Sylvanas's Point of View
When I lifted my gaze to the sky, a chill ran through me from head to toe.
Among the clouds—barely visible at first—I made out shadows moving in an unsettling synchronization. They were not ordinary birds. Their size, their shape, and the way they moved betrayed a threat I knew all too well.
My fear was confirmed in the very next instant.
"Anzu…" I whispered, my throat dry.
In this forest, we were not the only hunters.
The anzu were aerial predators that rarely descended without a clear reason. If they were here, it meant only one thing: their nest had to be nearby, and we had made the mistake of entering their hunting territory.
I tried to warn my companions immediately, but fate was faster than my words.
Before I could even open my mouth, the anzu launched their attack.
Like living shadows, they dove toward the gronk. Their enormous wings did not whistle as they cut through the air—they roared, announcing death. The gronk, caught off guard by the assault from above, bellowed in fury and began thrashing, slamming its hooves against the ground.
"Look up! The sky!" I shouted at the top of my lungs.
Too late.
One of the anzu suddenly veered away from its target and changed course toward us. It was like a signal. Within seconds, five more emerged from the clouds, forming a deadly ring.
Chaos erupted.
The gronk took advantage of the confusion. With a brutal movement, it struck one of the hunters who had frozen in place, staring at the sky. The impact was devastating. I heard the dull crack of bones breaking before the hunter collapsed to the ground, screaming in pain.
Without thinking, I ran toward him.
But I wasn't fast enough.
An anzu descended like a lightning bolt. Its talons closed around the hunter's body with terrifying precision. In an instant, it lifted him off the ground, surging upward into the sky.
"No!" I screamed, firing an arrow on pure instinct.
The hunter writhed and screamed, trying to break free, but it was useless. The anzu's talons were designed never to release a living prey. His cries were swallowed by the roar of the wind as he was dragged higher and higher.
We fired arrows desperately, one after another, but they barely came close. The anzu were flying too high.
As we struggled to react, the gronk seized the opportunity. Wounded but free, it fled into the forest, disappearing among the trees with steps that made the ground tremble.
The hunt was over.
The battle was brief, cruel, and one-sided. The anzu were not looking for a fight; once their prey was secured, the others regrouped around the one carrying it. They formed an aerial escort and, without sparing us a final glance, withdrew toward their nest.
The silence they left behind was heavier than the noise of the battle itself.
We had failed.
We couldn't save the hunter. Our weapons were useless against enemies that ruled the sky. We lost our prey… and one of our own.
That day was not a good day.
We tried to hunt other animals to make up for the loss, but all we managed to catch were small game. Not enough. We wouldn't meet our daily quota back at the settlement.
Some would go hungry that night.
With our spirits crushed, we began the return journey. No one spoke. Each step felt heavier than the last, weighed down by guilt, frustration, and fear.
That encounter left us with a clear and cruel lesson.
If we didn't want to end up as prey, we had to grow stronger.
It wasn't an option.
It was a necessity.
Description of the Anzu
Anzu are giant birds that hunt in packs. Each individual measures, on average, six meters from wingtip to wingtip. When they fly, their wings do not whistle—they roar, as if the sky itself were protesting their presence.
When they land, the ground vibrates beneath the impact of their legs, which are capable of crushing a bear's skull with a single squeeze. Their talons have an extremely pronounced and razor-sharp terminal curve, designed to seize and hold prey with no chance of escape. Their legs are covered in thick scales that extend to the base of the talons, providing natural protection.
They possess a monstrous grip, strong enough to lift and carry large prey while in flight. Their beaks, hard and sharp, can split wooden shields or shatter bones with a single, dry strike.
They are relentless and cruel hunters. They enjoy torturing their prey in their nests before killing it.
They are carnivores.
Description of the Gronk
The gronk is a nightmare made of muscle and fury.
Its body is a solid mass of pure power. Beneath thick, weathered skin—like old leather—its muscles shift like steel cables with every step. When it runs, the ground thunders beneath its weight.
It is capable of smashing through stone walls or tree trunks without slowing down, using its central horn to impale any obstacle in its path. The number of horns varies by sex: males have three, while females have two.
Its eyes are small and sunken, often gleaming with a crimson hue, reflecting constant territorial rage and a basic—but deadly—intelligence.
They are herbivores.