For a heartbeat, she could not move. The world narrowed to the sound of its roar.
That guttural, shaking thing that tore through the night like the earth itself had come alive to scream. The beast hit the ground with a sound like thunder, mud and blood and air splitting apart beneath its weight. Its form blurred as it came at her, a horror motion of muscle and claws and shadow.
It was too fast, far too fast for any human to catch up that for one frozen instant, she swore she saw her reflection in its eyes — not herself, not really, just a prey.
Every instinct screamed move, and somehow, her body did before her mind could catch up.
She threw herself sideways, legs slipping on the slick ground. The beast's claw struck where she had been, missing only by inches. The earth cracked, soil exploding upward, a shard of splintered wood slicing her arm as she hit the ground hard.
