The claw marks carved into the mushroom stalk seemed to pulse in the dim light, as if the wound itself were breathing. Apollo stared at the three parallel gouges, each deep enough to bury his hand to the wrist, and felt the whispers start again at the edges of his consciousness.
"We're hunting it," Thorin declared, his voice cutting through the heavy silence. The dwarf's glowing axe cast eerie blue shadows across his determined face as he ran a thumb along its edge. "Whatever made these marks, I'll make twice as many in its hide."
Renna shook her head, crouching to examine the footprint more closely. "That would be suicide. Look at the depth of these cuts, the creature's powerful enough to tear through these stalks like parchment." She traced the outline of the massive three-toed print. "And we don't know its habits, its territory. Hunting something you don't understand is the fastest way to become prey yourself."
