Chapter 211: Black Totem Shaman
Northern Road, The Rocky Hill Camp
Krud's POV
I couldn't tell which screams belonged to our clan-guards and which belonged to the dying sky-striders anymore. The sounds blurred together, a messy wall of noise that told me exactly how long this slaughter had been grinding on before I finally found the nerve to peek out from beneath the wagon axle again.
If the warriors fell, the chief would have my ears for losing the cargo—assuming I didn't end up in a beast's belly first.
The Kros'k filled the firelight like a monster dragged straight out of the tales elder Vaggi used to spit around the burn fire. It was low and broad, with thick, spiteful muscle of a cave-grubber but stretched out with the coiled, killing stride of a crag-cat.
It was easily the size of a fully laden iron-wagon, yet it moved like a strike of lightning.
