That same afternoon, a sentry on the tower spotted some mist.
Others near the cliff could spot the same strange sight. to them it looked as if some beast carried a torch whose smoke would be white and thin, lingering in a lengthy trail among the canopy.
It was approaching a fawn tribe.
The kobels could not tell if it was a threat or some mystic phenomenon that would eventually fade. The sentry decided it was worth playing the horn for it. Soon the whole tribe was rushing for weapons, captives retreating from the lower plateaus and warriors assembling.
Their chief finally showed up.
"What is it? Where is the threat?"
"Far away in the woods." A young kobel explained.
They led him to the cliff where Tunu already stood, watching that white trail afar.
"You are alarmed at smoke?! I have better things to do!"
"Wait, Kreil." The scaled kobel tempered. "I can feel it. This is dangerous. We need Lutuk to take a look at it."
"Etelet can handle that. We are busy."
And the chief left, waving off any more concern.
He crossed Etelet's path. The young kobel, followed by two black fawns that carried his baggage, had rushed here so fast that he was panting.
He took a look as well and just shrugged.
But behind him the fawns started to bleat. They somehow knew what it was. For lack of words they gestured for the apprentice who nodded all along.
"It's a monster. Its breath kills and it can fly. We should avoid it at all cost. Well, we should. You could probably kill it, Tunu."
The champion was tense.
"How come Lutuk is not here? Omens are meant to warn us of such threats!"
"You have to forgive him, he is... busy. He and the chief spend all their time with that elder, Mala."
"There is no time for that! I'll go find him myself!"
And so he did, followed as usual by as many warriors as there were admirers, all through a camp where fighters still were looking for spears and knives.
The shaman's hut nested on the other side of the plateau. With the captives' work it had grown a bit and still looked humble, if not abandoned.
But smoke through the roof of branches betrayed the kobel's presence. Inside the smell was that of roots, of vinegar and maceration.
The two old kobels were sit on the eldest's side. She herself lay on a mat, a blanket covering her weakened body. Arms so frail as to cause pity, an emaciated face with a muzzle on which the fur had peeled off and eyes almost faded.
Her raspy breath clutched the hearts.
"How is she doing?" Tunu asked while crouching near them.
"She'll be fine!"
The shaman's tone was low as well, careful not to disturb her. He wanted to sound assured and only betrayed a depth of fears.
"It's just an illness, she'll recover! She always has!"
"Yes." The chief whispered, his hands on hers. "She is strong."
He was holding back tears.
"Anything we can do for her?"
"Like you care! You're here for the winged deer! Has Etelet not told you? There is a new prey for you to feed on."
"You..."
Tunu was about to argue with him but realized the old shaman was not even looking at him. His eyes were fixed on Mala's face. And she herself, like a child, had closed her eyes to chase away the angry voices.
"You take care of her." Was all the champion found to say.
He got up and left, found himself outside. The moment the fresh hair slapped his face awake he realized he had not got a single answer.
But Etelet had waited for him.
"What do you want me to do, Tunu?"
"I need to prepare. In my state, I don't know if I can win. Etelet, I need to feed."
That made the apprentice fret.
"But nobody will fight you. And if we take too long, that hamlet..."
"Who cares about them?! They'll regrow, there is no end to their ilk. Get me captives. The wounded, the guilty, the weak, anything you can spare."
"Wait wait wait! You'll break the balance! Let me..."
The apprentice was panicking. He fell deep in thoughts, hand on his muzzle, trying to find an answer to a problem only he could see.
And Tunu was so glad to have him. The scaled kobel felt like a brute, too raw and stupid to see the damage he could cause. But Etelet was smart. Etelet thought for two. So he was glad to have his friend solve everything.
"Sacrifices. We can... we can make it a ritual. We will take one from each tribe... no, that won't be enough, we'll take a couple from each and make it a sacred offering."
"How long will that take?"
"Give me until tomorrow at noon. It would be best if it happened at the temple."
He meant the wyvern's lair.
"Alright. We will track that monster and wait. I am counting on you, Etelet. Do us proud."
"I will."
How lucky was he to be able to count on such a good friend. Tunu watched him leave, accompanied by those fawns, then went back to put the tribe at ease.
He found Savae heading down the hill.
She had an iron spear in hands, more strapped to her back and two axes at her hips. All knew were she was headed and none wanted to stop her.
But the champion rushed to block her path.
"Out of my way!" She threatened him with her spear.
"If you go you'll die!"
"So what?! You call me weak? Coward." She spit. "I will kill that beast and feed."
"I feel the same! My heart longs for the hunt! Patience, Savae! We will fight, we will kill, we will devour!"
The warrior looked away, let him approach.
"And I'll grow stronger."
"You will! You will grow scales! You're already growing them!"
Her murderous eyes could not escape his anymore. They were practically smiling together, taken by the same visceral tension. Wide, genuine, feral smiles.
Out there in the woods that misty trail had reached the edges of the hamlet. Probably that the horns had warned them of som danger. Surely their own sentries had spotted the threat. Yet not a single clamor rose from there.
But slowly and silently the mist spread all over the houses until nothing was visible but the roofs and the tip of trees. All bathed in stillness.
Come dusk it had not faded.
If there was a monster, it was nesting there for the night, among the silent houses. And those who had gone to see what it was would not come back.
That night the kobel tribe refused to light a single fire for fear of attracting that mist to them. Only the tower would have some candles defy the dark. Hardly enough to do more than add to the starlights.
And in that darkness the lingering mist lit its part of the woods. There the green of leaves and the brown of bark persisted, bathing in that white warmth in which time itself seemed suspended. It only filled with flows of fireflies.
Few could sleep that night. They all felt that same thin breath pierce their pelts and caress them with the promise of a deadly fate.