Fight and Flight

John didn’t think they’d have time for him to explain. Dragging Matilda to her feet, he gave a silent prayer to Gaia and attempted to leave the barrier. Much as he’d feared´, however, an error sound echoed in his head and a pop-up appeared indicating the presence of enemies. “I’ll explain properly later, I promise, but right now there’s more of those things around here somewhere, and we need to escape. Can you walk okay?” he asked, worried she might be more hurt than she’d let on.

To his relief, Matilda straightened up and nodded, clearly taking his word for it about the presence of further hostiles. “I can run if we need to. Which way?” she asked, before rolling a shoulder experimentally and wincing. “Might not be a lot of use if we need to fight through any more of those things though. Think I banged my shoulder pretty bad when that one jumped me.”

John paused, trying to remember the route he’d followed to get to where they were. “This way,” he said at last, adding, “I don’t know if those things can follow us by our scent, but if so, going back the way we came might confuse them a little bit.” With that, the pair ducked into the underbrush and hurried back towards where they’d entered the Barrier - at least, as far as John’s memory of the route was concerned.

Periodically, John paused - on a creek bed, behind a tall oak, under the cover of thicker bushes - and tried again to leave the barrier, each time leading to the same error sound and all-too-familiar pop-up. Matilda didn’t ask why he paused; she couldn’t see what he was doing, but seemed to have faith that he was leading them to safety, a trust that John sincerely hoped wasn’t misplaced.

They’d almost made it back to the clearing where Matilda had first been attacked when the sound of snarls from behind them caused John to wince. For a moment, he debated hiding, but where could they hide in the thick undergrowth that wouldn’t lead to them being scented by their vulpine pursuers? Glancing at Matilda’s terrified expression, he put any thought of risking getting trapped behind him and hurried her onward. The clearing - that’d give him space to fight in, that was their best shot.

The pair burst from the treeline with two vulpinions hot on their heels. John hadn’t risked an Observe; he guessed they’d be at least as strong as the one he’d fought back at the cave, possibly more-so, but it wouldn’t do any good to know either way, and in any case he wanted to save his mana for more guiding bolts.

The good news was that they’d not got the whole pack coming down on them. As they’d fled, he’d quizzed Matilda as much as they were both able to spare breath for, trying to find out exactly what had happened. From her he’d learned that there were at least a half-dozen of the dense-furred monsters. As far as she’d been able to tell, they looked more or less equal in size and strength, except for one slightly larger one with grey ears she’d taken to be their leader.

None of that mattered a whole bunch as he whirled and jabbed the nearest of the two in the gut as it emerged from the treeline. Jumping backwards to dodge a swing from the second, John really wished that just once he could get a fight on ground that wasn’t uneven; the risk of falling or twisting his ankle was ever-present in these grassy skirmishes.

Claws and snapping teeth filled John’s vision as he darted to one side, trying to keep his body between the vulpinions and Matilda. His mana was dipping dangerously low, he knew - he had maybe two more guiding bolts tops after keeping his blessing going and the spells he’d cast earlier. Should he spread them between the targets, or aim to hit one and hope two hits from the spell plus the better melee blows he could land would be enough to take it down?

In the end, the latter seemed the more sensible choice. Ducking under a long, claw-tipped arm, John fired off a bolt from almost point-blank range before bringing the tip of his staff up rapidly between the beast’s legs. A pained yelp and the creature crumbled to the floor. Another bolt to the chest as it fell and a swift downward blow of his staff to the neck, and sparkles erupted around John and his remaining combatant.

The other vulpinion snarled at him, dropping into a crouch seemingly to avoid falling prey to the same combination of blows that had killed its pack-mate. In response, John jabbed forward with his staff, hoping to catch it on the muzzle.

One clawed hand seemed to come from nowhere, catching the staff before it could connect and twisting it to one side. John’s grip was torn away, and he watched in horror as his weapon spun out of reach, the vulpinion letting out a laughing chirp before lunging forward. Diving back, John’s foot slipped on the grass and he stumbled and fell. No sooner had he hit the floor than the beast was on him, teeth sinking into his shoulder and claws rending at his jacket.

The pain was excruciating; spots danced in front of John’s eyes as his health plummeted - and then Matilda was there. One heavy-duty hiking boot caught the vulpinion in the side of the head, his date screaming for the beast to leave him alone as she repeatedly kicked out.

With a wrench that felt like it had torn a chunk out of his shoulder, the monster disengaged, rolling away from those continual blows. Staggering to his feet, John clenched his teeth against the pain; Matilda had only caused the creature to get off him, not to leave them entirely. Even now it circled, warily darting in as if to make another attempt at attacking only to back off before either of the humans could move to strike it.

“It’s waiting for the rest of the pack,” John realised, a wave of nausea from the pain of his rapidly closing wounds washing over him. Glancing around, he spotted his staff - it was close… could he reach it? An attempt earned him a set of claw marks on his thigh and more health lost. They needed to get out of here, now. He was sat on just over half health after being savaged by one of the beasts; if the rest of the vulpinions turned up, they were dead.

Time to take a risk. John darted forward, diving into a tumbling roll past the creature. He didn’t have time to get a proper grip on his weapon and get back upright, but he didn’t need to in order to make it work for him. First, he needed to get hold of it again… His fingers brushed the staff as he fell past, and before his roll carried him forward, he stored it, letting the walking stick slide neatly into his Inventory. As the momentum carried him on, he twisted, ending his movement by dropping onto his back.

As the impact with the grass threatened to knock his breath away, John gritted his teeth and pulled the staff back out just as the creature sprang forward. The wood slammed into the beast’s gut as it fell towards John, and he heaved with all the strength he had left, turning its own momentum against it. Orange fur flew past his head, claws scraping his cheek before the vulpinion smashed into the nearest tree with a heavy thud that echoed across the clearing.

John scrambled upright, blood dripping down his face; he couldn’t rest yet, the beast was dazed, not dead. Two hard downward jabs to its chin and a vicious sounding crack as its head twisted back were enough, though, and his foe fell limply to the floor. Turning, John staggered back over to Matilda as the beast turned to dust behind him. Wrapping her in his arms, he prayed once more and activated Barrier Transfer.

A moment later, the pair winced in the suddenly bright sunlight of the clearing. The dark oil-slick sky was gone, as were most of the trees - they were well and truly back in the real world. A quick glance at his Quests and John’s shoulders sagged with relief. The objective to rescue Matilda had been ticked off - although interestingly, despite the fact that they were listed as optional, he still had the opportunity to either explain or shroud the Abyss from her; the Quest hadn’t cleared from his log.

While he was checking on that, Matilda had retrieved her rucksack from where she’d left it. “John?” she asked softly as she crossed back to him. “Are we… are we safe? And you… you looked like you were hurt, really badly. We should get you to a doctor or…” The brunette’s eyes were wide, and she was staring at the blood soaking his shirt and coating his face, the adrenaline of their fight clearly fading into a state of shock.

Setting his own concerns and curiosity about the Quest aside, John did his best to look confident and tried to take control of the situation. “Yea. Those things can’t follow us now. We’re safe. And I’m not as hurt as I look, I’ll be fine in a minute or two. I… I should explain everything, shouldn’t I? Though, we probably shouldn’t talk about it here; let’s get somewhere we won’t be disturbed first.”

Matilda nodded shakily as she pulled her rucksack fully onto her back, clearly only partially soothed by his words. “Yes. Yes, you do owe me an explanation, John. Let’s go back to my place. I really need the safety of home right about now, not to mention a shower, and I was planning on us heading back there after we were done foraging anyway. It’s not that far of a walk from the bus stop where you met me earlier. Let’s go.”