"Crap, crap, crap," she whispered, cursing herself. How could I be this careless?
The beast stepped over the broken bird, slowly stalking in her direction. Its claws dug into the mossy ground, and its heavy breath fogged the air.
Ruby gripped the knife at her belt, her other hand reaching for her smelly herb pouch. Please work… please work…
She tossed the pouch hard to the left—away from herself. It hit the ground with a rustle.
The creature stopped.
Its ears twitched.
It turned toward the sound and snarled again—but didn't chase. It sniffed once, then backed up slowly, seeming confused. The stink of the herbs was strong enough to mess with its senses.
Ruby didn't wait.
She turned and ran.
Her boots slammed against the dirt, branches scratched her arms, her breath came in short gasps—but she didn't stop. She could still hear the creature snorting, pacing behind, but it didn't follow.
Not yet.
