The three Velociprey attacked as one.
The leader was fastest, a blur of blue and black. It launched itself into a pouncing leap, the sickle-like claws on its hind feet scything toward Logan's head.
Logan, coiled and ready, twisted aside. The deadly claws whistled past his ear. In the same motion, his tail snapped forward like a steel cable, catching the Velociprey mid-air with a heavy thwack. The creature crashed to the ground, but rolled with the impact, scrambling back to its feet with a furious hiss.
The other two were already flanking him. The left one darted in, beak gaping wide, aiming to cripple a foreleg. The right one feinted low, targeting his exposed belly.
Trapped between them, Logan's mind remained cold and clear. His right forepaw lashed out to meet the left Velociprey's bite—claws screeching against teeth. Simultaneously, his whipping tail, already in motion, changed trajectory. The spike at its tip drove straight for the throat of the right-hand attacker.
That Velociprey jerked its head back, but not fast enough. The spike grazed its cheek, opening a shallow furrow. A bead of Logan's neurotoxin seeped into the wound.
The creature shrieked, a sound of pain and rage, and attacked with renewed, reckless fury.
The leader charged again, a black streak aimed at Logan's hind legs—an attempt to hamstring him.
The left Velociprey, seeing Logan occupied, lunged once more for his shoulder.
For a split second, Logan was besieged on three fronts.
He triggered his electrocytes.
A visible surge of energy rippled across his scales, a network of crawling blue-white light. The air filled with a sharp, ozone crackle.
The Velociprey on his left clamped down on his shoulder—and immediately convulsed as the high-voltage current shot through its teeth into its skull. Its bite slackened; it recoiled with a yelp of shock and pain.
The one with the poisoned cheek, already enraged, charged into the electrified field around Logan's flank. Its body seized up, muscles locking. It staggered, a low groan of agony escaping its throat, its advance broken.
In that instant of paralysis, Logan struck. He surged forward, ignoring the teeth in his shoulder. His forelimbs wrapped around the stunned Velociprey's neck in a vice-like grip. His jaws found its trachea and clamped down. His powerful hind legs pistoned into its chest.
Crunch-scrape-tear.
The sound was horrific. White scales flew. Hide and muscle shredded under the assault. His canines, driven deep, tore outward, ripping a gaping hole in its throat.
The Velociprey's frantic clawing grew weak, feeble. It sagged, then collapsed in a heap.
The leader, seeing its opening, sank its needle-like teeth into Logan's injured hind leg. It ground its jaws, trying to tear muscle, enduring the searing pain of the residual current.
Logan's tail, a living weapon, whipped over his own back in a savage 'U' arc. It hammered the spike repeatedly into the leader's face and head.
Stab-stab-stab!
Forced to release its grip or be blinded, the leader jerked back. But it was too late. Thin lines of blood welled on its snout and around its eyes. More critically, the trace venom on Logan's spike, injected directly into the vascular-rich facial tissue, began its insidious work.
The Velociprey's nostrils swelled shut. Its vision swam, doubling. Neural tremors made its head shake uncontrollably. Its combat effectiveness was shattered.
Logan turned his blood-flecked snout toward the last remaining, uninjured Velociprey. He bared his crimson-stained teeth in a silent snarl. He was limping badly now, but the aura of ferocity around him had only intensified.
Velociprey were opportunists, not berserkers. Without an alpha to command them, their courage was brittle. The sole healthy creature looked from its dying, poisoned leader to the eviscerated corpse of its packmate, then to the wounded but terrifyingly effective predator before it.
Fear won.
With a sharp, startled cry, it turned and fled, scrambling up a rock face and vanishing into the night. The poisoned leader, disoriented and terrified, stumbled after it in a pathetic, wobbling run.
Only then did Logan allow himself to slump. Adrenaline faded, and pain roared to life. He was a tapestry of shallow cuts and torn scales, his hind leg a throbbing mess of puncture wounds.
Exhaustion and injury screamed for him to lie down. He refused.
He limped to the dead Velociprey and tore into its belly, gulping down nutrient-rich organs and fatty meat. In less than five minutes, his enhanced stomach was full to bursting. A system notification flickered at the edge of his vision, ignored for now.
He coiled his tail around the whimpering Zinogre whelp, hauled it from the shadows, and fled the blood-soaked overhang.
The scent would draw more than just Velociprey.
Limping through the dark for half an hour, he found a massive, ancient spruce. High above, a thick limb had been sheared away, leaving a deep, blackened hollow where it had joined the trunk.
Using his claws, he painstakingly scaled the rough bark. At the hollow, he shoved the whelp inside first, then dragged himself in after.
The cavity extended several meters into the tree. The interior walls were charred and slick with old resin—perhaps a lightning strike, perhaps a stray fireball from a passing wyvern.
At the back, on a bed of dry, rotten wood, Logan finally collapsed. He began the slow, deliberate process of licking his wounds clean. Saliva provided minimal antiseptic properties and, more importantly, helped mask the scent of blood.
Only when he was somewhat cleaned up did he allow himself to focus inward, pulling up the translucent blue screen of his system.
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