Towards the forest.

I considered the pros and cons of both directions, reaching my decision in mere moments. “I’m in what appears to be a fantasy world. My number one goal should be getting stronger. Finding something to use as a club then clobbering some bunnies for easy EXP shouldn’t be too hard, hopefully.” My mind made up, I begin my trek away from the hill and towards the woods.

It takes me the best part of an hour to reach the point grassland gives way to forest. Stepping into the relative coolness under the canopy is a relief. The sun had long since reached its apex, making the open road unbearably hot. Another 10 minutes hiking down the road and I was surrounded on all sides by trees. The road's surface looked well-travelled, deep grooves suggesting that wagons passed through the area. Not that I had seen another soul, I had yet to see another traveller or even any forest critters, the occasional cry of an unseen animal the only clue the forest was inhabited at all.

Another half an hour later and I was coming to the realisation that the forest critters I was hunting probably kept away from the road. I briefly considered turning back and heading in the other direction towards the hill, but decided against it. I had come this far already. What was the worst that could happen? A small spring in my step, I step off the road and, finding a reasonably sized branch on the forest floor to use as a weapon, headed deeper into the woods.

Sometime later, I was scraped, dirty, and on the verge of giving up. Animal cries occasionally broke the quiet of the forest, but I had yet to actually see anything other than shrubs and trees. My frustration mounting, I push through yet another shrub determined to tear my blouse to tatters and a small clearing comes into view. A pond sits in the centre of the clearing, and taking a drink from the pond is a small, fuzzy critter. The creature’s back is to me, and so far, it hadn’t noticed my sudden appearance despite the noise I had been making.

The creature was the size and dimensions of a racoon, the same chubby little body and fluffy tail. Rather than the usual colouration however, the creature was a deep midnight purple. I grin, finally, a creature for me to best! Slowly and quietly, I edge out of the bush and towards the creature. Entering bashing range, I wind up for a big swing. With all my strength, I bring my makeshift club down towards the beastie. A moment before impact the beast simply disappears, accompanied by a loud zip, and appears on the other side of the pond, where it promptly starts hustling into the undergrowth.

“fucker can teleport!” I growl in frustration. Recovering from my failed swing, I rush after the creature. The magic racoon leads me on a merry chase. Every time I close within striking distance, it would zip away out of reach. Despite this, it was clear the beast was slowly tiring. I got closer and closer to nailing the thing with my club every time before it would zip away again.

I am panting hard. My once white blouse is shredded and dirty, clinging to my body from the sweat I have worked up during the chase. To my savage delight, the beast finally makes an error, losing purchase and slipping off a small, moss free boulder and landing in a tangled heap just beyond it. A cry of impending victory, I catch up to the creature, raising my club high over my head as I prepare to deliver the killing strike.

Movement in the corner of my eye distracts me and I pause, shocked, as what I thought was a boulder shifts, then slowly stands. Not a boulder at all, but a creature. I back up, magic racoon forgotten, creating some space between the creature and I. the beast rises to its full height, then turns in my direction.

At its full height, the beast easily reaches my chest, five ft at a rough guess. It is quadrupedal, its weight supported on four legs. The way the beast stands reminds me of a gorilla, its front legs much thicker and more muscular than its rear. That was where the similarities ended. Its hide, a grey so dark it was practically black, is hairless and gave the impression of scales, giving the beast a vaguely reptilian appearance. This notion only grows as I focus on its head, which is vaguely triangular, with a wide mouth filled with sharp teeth.

Forward-facing eyes focus on me. I freeze, my heart pounding, terrified beyond anything I have ever experienced before. I'm a prey animal, frozen on the spot by the gaze of a predator. I raise my club in a two handed white knuckled grip, convinced of my impending **** but determined to go down swinging. Our eyes meet, and with some surprise, I see a depth of intelligence in the creature’s gaze that I hadn’t been expecting.

“No Need Fight.”

My eyes widen in shock, and I gasp as the foreign thought enters my mind. The voice is deep, gravelly, and distinctly male. Every fibre of my being screams that to fight this beast could only lead to my ****. Had it tried to communicate, or had I imagined it in my panic? I had two choices I could make. I could trust that the beast had tried to talk and attempt to open a dialogue, Or I could run, attempt to flee into the woods and lose the beast between the trees.