He watched with his one good eye, staying in the bushes as he always had. He knew that to come out of the bush was as bad as tall ones with points would see, and the sharp would come. Then death would follow; that was how things were for its kind. So it stayed in the bush, eating as little of the bush's roots and branches as it could without taking away its bush.
It looked around, eye wary and skittish, as it watched the woods around itself. It knew the trees weren't safe, as that was where the tall ones liked to dwell and move from. Where they would rain their sharps on it to kill it as they had so many others. It was always strange to be alone in the bush, as it knew this was the way of things: to live in the bush until you had eaten too much of it and then had to run to the other one, hoping that the tall ones did not see you. They often did, as it was proven from the fact it was the last of a large litter.
The strangeness of it was a part of itself. A part he knew came from an old time said that it was wrong. That trees were not danger but food and that he should be among many, not alone. He ignored these strange urges as they were untrue and only ways to death. So it went on surviving on the scraps it could get from the bush, wondering when the time would come for him to move to a new bush and if he would make this move or if it would be his last as it had been for his siblings.
The monster, a lone pavooth, continued chewing on the bare minimum of what his kind needed to survive. Though he was unaware, as he was used to feeling hunger, as trying to satisfy such hunger would mean eating a tree, which would get him killed. So he did not and survived on what the bush could safely provide without collapsing as a viable camouflage and leaving him to be killed as archery practice by passing elves.
Though it was something to say that a species had been forced to go against their instincts as a species so that they could survive that they couldn't even recognize them for what they were anymore. It was a tragedy that was made even sadder by the fact that none could see it. As pavooths could not see what happened to themselves, the tall ones would not put that level of thought to them.
The male pavooth went still as it spotted a passing patrol of tall ones jumping from tree to tree with great speed. The arrow still stuck in its bad eye shook a bit as it went completely still to not let itself be spotted, causing a jolt of pain, but the male pavooth ignored the surge of pain and stayed completely still, hoping the tall ones passed by without noticing him. They did, but it would be a long while yet before the male pavooth would move, fear keeping still long after its senses had told it the tall ones were gone.
The two elven men were jumping from tree to tree using their TREE WALK skill, which made them look more like they were walking than leaping from tree to tree. The two were completely unaware of the Pavooth they had gone over or the fear of the gods they had put into him just by passing him by. Though had either known, neither would have cared, as archery practice was not high on either of the elven man's to-do list.
"So, my good friend, is there any particular reason why you have me out with you on this fine morning?" The taller of the two pale elves said as his pink hair flowed in the breeze from him going from tree to tree. The other man with skin just as pale but with white hair said nothing for a long moment as the two silently moved from tree to tree. Eventually though, the other man sighed and began to speak.
"We are patrolling Panin." The smaller elf said to him, to which Panin simply stated at him as they continued to move among the trees. The sole stare eventually got the smaller elf to talk. "Fine, you are right; we're not just patrolling." The smaller elf said, to which the Panin just smirked at having his thoughts confirmed.
"So if we're not just patrolling for any threats to our great Hydrapanica woods. Then what are we doing?" Panin asked in a light tone before his smirk came back on his face. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that rival of yours, Hicle, winning that archery competition that everyone's talking about in town, would it?" Panin asked with a smug tone, to which the smaller elf merely looked away without replying as they continued across from tree to tree.
"Oh, Anga." Panin said with a small smile at his friend. "I understand, and it's not like our great forest is never not in need of more patrolling elves." Panin said figuring he would save his friend further embarrassment of talk of his rival's victory, and so they continued on in silence, ready for anything, or so they thought. As a sudden scroll of the gods appeared before both elves, it informed them of a great danger to their forest.
The two elven men stood on the trees of their home, looking at the warning and not sure what to make of it. As the Pavooth were no threat to them and had not been a threat to even the fallen logs since their grandfather's time almost a thousand years ago. Though it was a warning from those beings that guided the woods, and they would not dare to question the knowledge of such beings openly.
If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.
So both men drew their bows from their backs and got their arrows ready to be drawn. The two of them figured they merely had to hunt the germin Pavooth with more vigor than usual, which would be tedious but was their duty since the Pavooth would become a threat to their woods if left to their own devices, which is no doubt what the message meant.
What the two elves of Hydrapanica woods did not understand was that the Pavooth had been only an annoyance at their worst for centuries. So they simply thought that the message warned them that some new power would allow the Pavooth to be a threat in time. This was not the case, as they were all soon to learn to their detriment.
The male one-eyed Pavooth that the two males had passed by was feeling the old ways telling him things. Usually it would ignore it as he had always done, but this time the old ways had power, and the urge to answer its ever-present hunger was too strong, and he leapt out of the bush that had been his home for a time. He leapt at the nearest tree, his claws digging at it, cutting it down in two swipes, and his teeth chowing down on the tree in moments.
Panin and Anga heard the loud noise and saw, to their surprise, that a Pavooth was already appearing before them. It was chomping on a tree of their home rather fast for its kind. The tree was a younger one and was cone-shaped with pink and white leaves like the trees around these woods were supposed to be. Anga quickly pulled an arrow from his quiver and looked at it as Panin watched, letting his companion get what he saw as an easy kill.
The old one-eyed Pavooth ate a tree for the first time in its life and found it delicious, far better than any bush it had eaten from. Then, as it had always known would happen, the tall ones came, and their sharp thing flew, but the old way told it what to do, and unlike long ago when he had lost his eye, he instead caught the arrow.
The old ways told him it was a bite. A special bite called the ARROW BITE. Arrow is what the sharp things were called that were still in his ruined left eye. He took another bite, and it was gone; the arrow was no longer stuck in his left eye. He gave a happy growl and went on eating trees. Knowing that he was now doing what his kind was supposed to do—eating the trees to the roots, not hiding in bushes.
The elven man had been expecting to see an arrow pierce the single Pavooth before them, as they had seen happen to a literal thousand before. This did not happen; instead, it ate the arrow and went on to eating another tree. The elves looked at each other in shock, and so Panin knocked an arrow and fired with Angra. The Pavooth turned his head, but the air once caused the arrows the elves had fired to seemingly have disappeared. It then got back to eating the tree around them.
Angra and Panin then stepped it up, adding power to their shots. They did these by using skills that multiplied the number of arrows fired or how fast they flew. They even fired arrows with magic that caused them to burn or turn to acid. None of it worked, as each time, no matter what the fire or from what direction, as they leapt about the trees, the single Pavooth would simply open its jaws and snap them shut, and the arrows would disappear.
Though something even more disturbing happened as they attempted to bring the single Pavooth down. It grew with each tree it fell and devoured, growing bigger and bigger. This would not have shocked them if it was not the fact that it was well known that the largest any Pavooth has ever grown was the size of a wolf. The one they were fighting was the size of a small carriage and still growing.
The two elves were about to panic at how futile they were to fighting the Pavooth when they heard a whistling sound echoing through the woods. The elves looked to each other, shocked at the sound, and quickly abandoned the fight, fleeing towards their village. The two elves made quick time using their skill TREE WALK. Though what they found shocked both of them to the core.
As their village was under siege, though not by bandits, rival elves, or even the minions of dark sorcerers. No, it was the Pavooth that laid siege to their home. The Pavooth were trying to eat the very walls that made up the village borders while the village guard did everything they could to stop them to little effect. The two elves used their agility to make it past the swarming Pavooth, who were too focused on the wood to notice those made of meat and bone anyway.
Angra and Panin added their bows to the defense, hoping to find some skill that would eventually work. Though as they did, Angra made a horrible mistake: he looked one of the Pavooth in the eyes, one that had gotten so big his head came up to the village wall. He was terrified by what he saw, which was the hunger. There was no rage, no eagerness for bloodshed. These were beings that had come for one thing and cared for nothing else.
For the first time Since all of this began, Angra realized a horrible truth. The Pavooth were not vermin nor were they animals. They were monsters, and they would not stop until they got what they wanted or they were dead, and they didn't have any way to kill them. He looked around and saw on a few faces that others had realized the same thing he had. Angra tightened his grip on his bow and fired even more arrows, hoping that something would turn the tide.
This was only one village of many that would find themselves on the wrong side of the great bite. For those monsters of Upath who had long been forced to starve. The debt they were owed was now to be paid in the forest of the elves that had grown unchallenged for far too long.
