Some horrors and fiends are nothing but mindless thralls, but others know enough to fear death in a werewolf's jaws. And even mindless Wyrm-slaves possess an instinctive fear of Gaia in all her purity and wrath. You twist around and roar into the monster's face. Your roar becomes a howl of Rage, and the creature stumbles against the dumpster. You shake mud from your eyes as your enemy flees. It sprints across the field into the woods, and though you pursue, its huge size means it quickly outpaces you. You force yourself to stop before you get lost and the shuttle leaves.
You snarl and bite back the instinct to chase down your frightened prey. It's too big and too fast. But now, at least, it fears you.
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