Hawk circled over the camp, making no caw, meaning he didn’t see anything. Louis padded almost silently into the camp, nose to the ground. He could smell human, -a man, reasonably young- but nothing otherworldly.
Louis followed the smell to the tent, where it mingled with the stench of blood. There were more splatters on the inside, but no body. Although whomever had slept there had left his socks in his boots standing just outside the mouth of his tent.
Louis continued sniffing around the fire, but the ash was cold and the blood stains were dry. Before long, he felt Hawk’s talons land upon his shoulder, prompting him to give up too. There was nothing here to find. He sat and a moment later his hind legs shot outwards, his body swelled up, his shoulders broadened almost costing Hawk his balance, until he was sat, an orc, legs splayed awkwardly with his hands on the ground.
‘A monster was here,’ he rumbled, ‘but I guess it’s gone now.’
Hawk nibbled his ear, before taking off once more. Louis watched him fly over the peak of the hills back to the plains side. It was getting late and Hawk was off on the evening hunt. So Louis sighed and set about his job of relighting the fire.
Once the fire was crackling away nicely, Louis sat back against the rock. He had no doubt it was a monster that had done away with the camp’s owner, and though the camp was assuredly abandoned now, he still couldn’t shake the feeling that it was close by. If that were so, howcome they hadn’t found it? Howcome his wolf nose hadn’t smelled it? Was he was imagining the whole thing?
As the sky reddened, Louis passed the time by admiring the view. The endless golden sands of the desert turned to a bright, burning orange beneath the sunset, while the red rock hills that marked its border stretched off before and behind like a great snake. As Louis cast his eyes across them, they were caught by something out of place. A boulder, not far off. While not unusual in and of itself on these rocky hills, it was not red, like its surroundings, but rather a dull grey, a difference made more pronounced by the red gloom of the sunset.
It did not interest Louis much, and so he tended to the fire and watched the sunset. Once the sun dipped beneath the horizon and the first stars appeared, Louis heard movement nearby. He looked towards the sky, thinking it was Hawk returning, but could not see him in the dusk. Frowning, he scanned the hills again, and it struck him that he could not see the grey boulder. Was it because the light had changed or… had it moved?
Before he had time to consider this, he was struck aside the head.
All the souls that had taken residence inside Louis’s head, usually content merely to spectate his misadventures, awoke. Having each died once already, they were keen to prevent a recurrence. As Louis was thrown by the impact, the wolf leapt, lending his agility to Louis’s legs, kicking off the rock and carrying his momentum into a forward roll. At the same time, the orc guided his muscular arm to grab blindly in the direction the blow had come from and, making contact with his attacker, close his fingers around its neck. All this happened within an instant. Louis landed on his feet and stood, surprised at his own agility and his assailant in his grip.
It snarled at him, froth hanging from its fangs. It was smaller than Louis was as an orc, and so its legs thrashed wildly in the air. It was an ugly creature, something like a lizard, but also a bat and perhaps a touch of a cat. Its frame was almost man-like, though somehow both emaciated and muscular at once. It had a long, forked tail between its legs and two, leathery wings flapping wildly upon its back. Its skin was coarse and mottled grey, like rock, and it scratched at Louis’s arms with clawed hands. Its sharp snout was almost beak-like, a row of horns sat between its large, flat ears and bright, yellow eyes flashed menacingly at Louis. A gargoyle. Turned to stone by the daylight. No wonder he hadn’t been able to smell it.
Without another thought, he lifted it high and dashed its brains against the rock. Except instead of hitting the rock, the gargoyle passed straight through, leaving it undisturbed. Louis could hear scratching and rumbling beneath his feet. The creature, so very almost stone itself, could move through the rock as if it were water.
Louis tried to follow the sound, keeping nimble on his feet as if he were standing on hot coals. Surprising as this development was, he felt the orc’s delight rise inside him. To fight was thrill enough, to fight bare-naked and unarmed was yet another exhilaration, but to fight an enemy like this was altogether another pleasure. However, the excitement gave way to embarrassment when a clawed hand thrust out of the rock and grabbed him by the ankle. Louis fell like a stone, hitting his head hard against the rock. His vision swam for a moment, and when he recovered he realised the gargoyle was on top of him, clawed hand against his throat.
Then the dragon stirred. Though he had been haughty and aloof throughout this petty brawl, he could not suffer the indignity of being bested by this lesser class of monster. And as its fire rumbled from deep within Louis, he let it loose. The gargoyle was stunned as its captive prey expanded beneath him. Louis did not limit the transformation this time. His growth was so sudden he felt the rock crack beneath him. With a screeching roar, he struck the gargoyle with a claw half its size.
The creature howled in pain as it was thrown into the air. It quickly beat its wings to rescue its fall. Louis beat his massive wings also, lifting his bulk from the ground. The gargoyle had seen enough. It took off into the desert.
Louis was about to follow when he remembered Hawk. He was not yet back from his hunt. The gargoyle was getting away, but if Louis pursued it he and Hawk might get separated.