I was curious why the Sawtooth could be tracked by looking for carrion birds. But once we had reached our destination, it didn't take long for me to figure out why.

  The eviscerated corpses of smaller monsters hang from the upper branches of the trees in the area. Most of them are smaller bird monsters, but I can make out a few jackalopes and even a red-horned wolf. Each one has pieces missing from it. Arms, legs, even heads. Some are even completely torn in half with their innards hanging from the branches.

  The pine trees are far more abundant in this area than the Emperor trees. And they seem to be the perfect place to hang the bodies, as their branches are covered in sharp spines.

  The smell is quite pungent. Blood and rotting flesh. It'd likely be overwhelming if not for the fact that Thorpe had packed plague masks for our trip. Which isn't just for this moment specifically, as Thorpe did say we might run into monsters that use poison skills.

  The mask will keep most of the smell out thanks to the strongly scented herbs packed into the mask's beak-like nose. The mask is black leather with a metal tip on the end, only covering the mouth and nose. But Thorpe does have goggles as well if we need them.

  As we neared the carnage, we had stored our packs underground a distance away. Now we are taking cover behind some of the trees. The trunks of the brutal pines are stained red from the corpses impaled on them.

  Suddenly, I feel something touch my shoulder, and I flinch to the side, reaching for my sword just to halt when I see Thorpe kneeling beside me. The old man gives me a calming gesture. "Sorry…should have just said somethin. You gonna be alright?"

  I furrow my brows at him briefly before I realize that my hands are shaking. Gripping them together in front of me. "No, no. It's fine…just didn't expect…well…this…" I assure, glancing at the macabre surroundings.

  The old man nods, a serious look in his eyes. "Pretty harrowing, isn't it?" He says rhetorically. "You'll be happy to know the other people I've hunted these things with emptied their stomachs by this point."

  A shiver runs down my spine. "Don't count me out of that just yet. My stomach is somersaulting." I admit with a nervous chuckle. "The sawtooth did all of this? Why…"

  Mr. Thorpe returnshis attention to me. "Don't just ask me…use your head…access the situation."

  I frown pretty harshly, which must be apparent in my eyes because the old bastard chuckles.

  I groan and turn my attention back to the carnage. Trying my best not to let my already hard-to-swallow breakfast come back up. Scanning for details that might give me an idea as to why this rampant slaughter exists.

  What am I even supposed to be looking for?

  All I see is just dismembered monsters and scattered innards. Everything is hung up at different angles and in varied states of ripped apart. Smaller monsters seem to be in the lower branches, while larger ones are oddly up higher and…

  The small monsters on the lowest branches are all birds with very pearlescent blue and green feathers. All of them pinned by their bellies with their wings broken and hanging down. Arranged in careful patterns around the trees before it jumps up to the mid branches, where other monsters are.

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  It's certainly still gruesome, but taking a longer look, I can start to see the decision-making. The corpses aren't random. There is a rhythm to it. Color of feathers and fur. What parts are cut off. Even the innards seem to be arranged like…accents…decoration.

  My eyes widen as it finally clicks. Turning my attention to Thorpe again.

  I can't see the smile on his face thanks to the mask, but his eyes definitely appear like he's pleased. "Did ya figure it out?"

  I nod slowly. "It's a mating ritual…isn't it?"

  The old man gives a thumbs-up. "Correct." He confirms before resting his shoulder against the trunk of the tree next to us. "Sawtooths are solitary creatures. Very territorial as well. They spend most of their lives alone until they need to mate."

  He gestures with his thumb to the gory display. "Once the male is ready and has picked up the scent of a female nearby, he'll start the process. Hunting other monsters purely for their aesthetic to use for his display. Cutting them up and arranging them into this 'masterpiece' here." The old man chuckles.

  I grimace a little. "So…romantic…"

  The old man laughs. "To the female, it definitely is. The male puts himself into a ton of danger setting this up. The male won't eat until the arrangement is finished. Starving himself. And the smell will attract larger predators and the scavengers will attract…well…us." Aiming a thumb back at himself.

  I nod along to the explanation. "And that's why you said it shouldn't be a problem for me. Because this one has been starving itself…"

  Thorpe wavers his hand at me. "Eh, a little bit. I didn't actually know how far along this one's arrangement was. But looking at it now, he's definitely been doing this for a hot minute." He then points a finger at me. "But! If he's this far along…what do you think might happen?"

  I sigh, already knowing what he's getting at. "The female might show up…"

  "Bingo…and the females are a little bit bigger usually and fully fed at this point. But she'll be carrying an egg inside of her, which should slow her down a bit if she shows up."

  SNAP

  In a split second, both of us are down on the ground, tucking behind the base of the large pine. The sound of thumping footsteps, more twigs snapping, and foliage being thrashed through.

  I lean my head up to peek over the massive half-buried root I am prone behind.

  Stepping out of the trees and into its ritual area is a flightless bird about 8 feet tall. A thick bulbous body with small wings. Its feathers are mostly red with white fringes. Long bare legs with sickly yellow scales and large feet with 3 massive talons at the ends of its 3 large toes. Its neck is somewhat long but is quite thick as well, mostly balding except for tuffs of white feathers. The neck ends at a vulture-like head, but its beak is large and shiny black. The inner edges of the beak are serrated like teeth. A young jackelope is currently hanging limply from its jaws.

  Thorpe, who has been peeking out from behind the tree as well, lies down next to me and whispers. "Looks like it hasn't eaten in about a week. It's practically limping." He notes. "Here's the plan. Real simple. It's going to start butchering that jackalope soon. I am going to rush for it and take its attention. I need you to loop around and flank it."

  My brows furrow. "Not from behind?"

  Thorpe shakes his head. “Its eyes are on the sides of its head. When it's focused on me, it'll also be watching behind itself. You want to flank it, go for the base of the neck where the folds are." He details seriously as he picks up his spear from the ground.

  I give a nod, making sure my scabbard on my back is secure. Both of us peek back out.

  The Sawtooth has set down the jackelope onto a flat topped bolder that already seems heavily stained with gore. The sawtooth nudges the corpse around a bit before raising its head to look up into the trees. Likely deciding where to string up its next decoration.

  Once it seems satisfied, it lets out a surprisingly beautiful cooing sound. Lowering its head back down to snap its beak closed over the jackelope's back leg.

  Its lower jaw begins pulling back and pushing forward, grinding the leg between its beak. It takes a few seconds before the leg catches in its serrated beak, and it starts to be sawed through by the tight reciprocating motion.

  It is horrifying to watch. The sound of meat tearing and bones being sawed through. But also oddly fascinating with how its jaw moves like that.

  But I shake myself out of my fascination and turn to match gaze with Old Guard. Him giving a nod as he starts to stand.

  I shift up to a crouch and start creeping off around the trees to the left of the Sawtoothes ritual site.

  Picking up speed as I see Old Guard rushing in towards the creature.

  Reaching back behind to grab the hilt of my sword over my shoulder.