Asprun and the Wuyehanam

I heard the bone-chilling, otherworldly howl. The beast was quickly gaining on me, so I tried to run faster. But fatigue was setting in. Fatigue from running. Fatigue from the weight of the furs keeping out the cold…barely. Fatigue from fighting the deep snow. Still, I ran. Another howl. Closer this time. Don't look back.   I looked around the desolate landscape for a place to hide. A hole, a cave, a rock. Anything. Ahead…to the left. An outcropping of rock. I shifted directions. Go past it. Circle back to it. Maybe the beast could be confused.   The howl was much louder this time. It was closing in. And…was that an answering howl? By the gods, no! But the rock was near. I ran past, slowed, retraced my steps, and leapt, as far as my tiring legs would allow. It had to be enough.   The landing was cushioned by the expanse of snow around me, swallowing me. By a miracle I had landed just where I had hoped. I made myself small, burrowing deeper into the snow. Another howl. It was almost upon me. And then, for certain this time, and closer, an answer to the howl.   While the beast was nearly silent on the snow, I could hear a snort, and breathing. It must be here! But I held my own breath and reamained silent. More snorting. It was trying to suss me out. Did the leap work?   Another howl. The companion! But it was closer than it should be. Maybe? Another snort, and a reply to the companion.   I couldn't see it. No, I felt it. Felt the darkening around me, the massive presence, and heard the woosh of air as the maybe-not-companion flew over the outcropping and me. A thud followed by snarls and growls. The two were fighting! Maybe they'll kill each other! A thought I shouldn't have thought, cursing its possibility.   The growls and snarls intensified, with two distinct voices. I couldn't help but to poke my head up from the snow to look upon the fight. They were locked in combat. Two massive beasts, each as large as a bear, but with long legs, an oddly long neck, and a head filled with teeth like daggers and spikes. Covered in thick white fur. I couldn't distinguish between the one that hunted me and its attacker. A massive claw knocked a head away, only for the knocked jaw to open wide and clamp upon the offending leg. A different howl than before. One of pain. Sickly green blood began soaking the white fur of the bitten, staining the snow.   The injured monster stared directly at me, menace in its eyes, snarled, then turned and gingerly loped away in the direction we had come from. The victor turned toward me. Out of the kettle, into the flames! It took one…two…three steps. Sniffed. Snorted. Growled. A warning? It, too, looked directly at me, staring at me with red eyes that could almost burn through flesh. Then, suddenly, it bounded away in a different direction, granting me my life.   — The Journals of Asprun, Book 21, pages 79–83
See: Snow Hunters, Asprun


Cover image: Scotland Cliffs by Frank Winkler

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