Dried, withered branches weren't going to kill the beast, but they might hurt it just enough to drive it off.
At least, that was what Fay hoped.
The real problem was breaking them off without injuring himself or putting his sister, Mira, in danger.
To manage that, he secured her tightly against the trunk of the tree before climbing higher, snapping off every dry, pointed branch he could find.
They wouldn't do much, but they might be enough to scratch or sting just enough to make the creature reconsider staying.
Once he had a decent bundle, he began his volley.
Fay knew one or two sticks wouldn't be enough to scare it away, especially if he missed.
The feral hound remained below, staring up at them with hungry eyes.
Fay started with the most useless branches, tossing them down to test the waters.
He watched its reactions closely.
The beast dodged the flimsy branches with ease, but that was expected.
Fay didn't stop.
He kept up a steady stream, watching for patterns, studying the creature's reflexes.
After twenty or so throws, he moved on to the sharper ones.
He had only eight of those…
Eight chances to make them count.
The first one he threw had a slight curve to it. It missed. But now he knew how to adjust.
The second was not the best hit, but still it came in a little closer. He followed it up with another weak throw to keep the beast from catching on to his real aim.
"Damn, you're smart," Fay muttered. "Too bad you're trying to eat us."
He picked up the fourth branch, long, thin, and sharp.
One of the best at his disposal.
If he could just hit the thing and make it run, he'd count that as a win.
His stomach still burned from hunger, and the acid gnawing at his insides since the night before, and the anger was starting to drive Fay into focusing on the task.
"Hiyaa!" he yelled, hoping the sound might distract the beast for a split second.
The stick flew.
The hound twisted to dodge, but not fast enough; one of its paws caught the makeshift spear.
Fay didn't let the opportunity slip.
As the beast recoiled, paw dragging along the ground, he hurled the next sharpened branch.
It struck while the creature was still off balance. The monster let out a piercing cry, loud enough to make Mira clamp her hands over her ears.
Though wounded, the hound still didn't seem to want to leave; it just kept looking up with rage in its eyes.
The next stick grazed its torso, drawing another pained growl.
"Damn it, you're lucky!" Fay shouted, frustrated. He had hoped those two hits would've been enough to bring it down. But they hadn't pierced deep, only stung.
He quickly checked the remaining four spears in his hand. Choosing the second-best, he wound back and hurled it with all the strength he had left.
It hit the back of the beast's leg… it didn't pierce, but slammed on in hard.
From eight meters up, the added momentum was enough to make it stumble.
Fay didn't hesitate.
He hurled another branch, aiming to finish the job, but it missed, only by inches, but by then the creature had already run off limping due to the injury on its paw.
Fay climbed down to check on his sister. Mira was close to tears.
"I know… you're hungry, right?" he said softly. "Here. I saved these just for you…"
He pulled out a pair of old, stale cookie bars from his backpack.
They were still sealed in their original wrappers… something he'd found in a half-collapsed store, likely untouched because of how hard it had been to reach.
He hadn't planned to use them yet.
But with the creature possibly still lurking nearby, escape wasn't an option.
They waited for hours.
Fay kept Mira distracted playing simple games, pointing at shapes in the distance or clouds, humming old tunes their mother used to sing.
Eventually, Mira nodded off, nestled against his legs. It was still dark out, possibly 4-5 in the morning by then.
As for Fay, he didn't dare sleep. He stayed alert, listening for any signs of the beast's return.
He planned to move as soon as the first rays of the sun shone.
Their shelter wasn't far, just over the apartment complex where he'd built a home for them.
If they could keep going for an hour, they'd be safe, and when he finally saw the bright light passing through the clouds, he began to move.
"Mira," he whispered, gently patting her soft cheek. "I think we're safe now. Let's get down."
She rubbed her eyes, blinking blearily at him.
"Okay…" she yawned, looking around cautiously.
"No dog yet," Fay muttered. "We should hurry, though. I don't know if it'll come back."
He helped her adjust on the branch, then carefully unfastened the belt he'd wrapped around her waist for safety.
"Can you climb down from here? Don't worry, I'll help."
She nodded bravely. Together, they began descending, step by careful step. Every few minutes, they paused to listen. The dense bushes and scattered buildings made perfect hiding spots for a predator.
"Seems clear," Fay said finally. "Stay on that thick branch. I'll go first."
He dropped down to the ground, a sturdy stick in hand, eyes scanning every shadow.
Three minutes passed, and yet there was no sound or movement.
He climbed back up, grabbed their small bag, and helped Mira down.
"Once we're on the ground, I'll carry you for the first stretch," he explained. "Then we'll walk fast the rest of the way, okay?"
"Okay," she whispered.
He crouched, letting her climb onto his back. Then, with a quiet breath and all the strength he could muster, Fay began to run.
After ten minutes of running, Fay allowed himself to believe they were safe.
They had put a good distance between themselves and the tree.
Ahead stretched a long, empty street, silent and eerie beneath the early morning light.
They moved on, carefully, for another twenty minutes.
Their nerves began to settle.
Their small shelter wasn't far now, just a short trek more, and they'd be home. Fay was already thinking of what to eat.
"What do you want today?" he asked gently. "No meat, I think… but we still have cereal. Remember the chocolate kind?"
There weren't many options in their stockpile, but he tried to make it sound like they had a list to choose from.
Four items left. Enough to pretend they still had control.
And that's when the chill struck him.
Goosebumps raced across his skin. A shadow stretched alongside his own, too large for it to be his or his sisters.
He turned.
The hound was back.
Just some meters behind them, limping but furious, its wounded paw dragging slightly. Its eyes met his with raw hatred. It snarled, baring teeth bloodied from earlier scrapes.
Fay didn't hesitate.
He scooped Mira up, clutching her tight against his chest, and ran.
Even wounded, the beast was fast. It took Fay four of his desperate steps to match just one of the creatures' pounding strides.
It was gaining, driven by rage and hunger.
He scanned the street and spotted a house.
Close but not close enough.
It was nearly fifty meters.
Its door shut.
From the window, maybe?
If he could reach it and get Mira through…
He pushed himself harder, lungs burning, legs threatening to give. His body was screaming at him to stop, but he couldn't not now…
The beast lunged.
Its teeth clamped onto his bag, yanking violently. Supplies spilled, bouncing across the asphalt. The pull threw Fay off balance. He fell hard, twisting midair to shield his sister before she hit the ground.
In her stead, he hit the ground, pain exploding up his arm, but Mira was safe.
She was crying now, clutching his coat. The beast spat out the torn bag, eyes gleaming with malicious-filled glare.
Fay pushed himself up slowly, breath ragged. His stick, his last weapon, was broken in half.
Just a jagged shard now, enough to be a small dagger.
He placed Mira behind him and stood his ground.
Two meters.
That was all that separated them.
The hound growled low, muscles coiled to spring.
"Come on then," Fay whispered, raising the splintered wood like a blade. "Let's see who kills who."