While the sun continued to sink into the horizon, Crisis continued to hunt. She knew it wasn’t far. She had found the campfire by the river and saw that whoever it was had left into the jungle. “How convenient, she thought, he is heading right for home by the Big Tree. Means I won’t have to travel far.” Just then, she heard a sound in the trees to her right. She smiled to herself and licked her lips. “Gotcha” she said quietly. She got down low and crawled through the grass and trees. Silently, she crept up on him, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Soon, she found him in a clearing. His hood was still drawn over his face while he stood there, facing away from her, Bo staff in hand.
“What luck!” she thought. He had not moved since she came into the clearing. She could catch him easily. She continued to sneak up on him. Silent as a shadow, she slithered up behind him until she was right on top of him. Just as she was about to strike, he spoke. “Hello, lass, having a good evening?”
Crisis was absolutely stunned. “But how?” she exclaimed, “I was perfectly silent?” The stranger chuckled a bit and turned around. “Any Taur’Draug could hear you a mile away. Simply because you are silent to a human’s ears doesn’t mean you are to a Taur’Draug’s, or so the saying goes.” He laughed a bit and turned his back to her again. “I heard you eat humans. If that be so, I’d like to make a wager with you.” Now Crisis was really intrigued. Sure, her prey had tried to make deals with her, but never bets. Curiosity got the best of her. “Alright, what’s the wager?”
The stranger laughed again and ran to a tree. Without much effort, he climbed it quickly so he could be at her eye level and sat on the branch. “Here be my wager: ‘Tis a game of tag we are going to play. If you catch me once, you get to eat me. But if I tap your head three times with me ole’ staff here, then you’ll not be eating humans anymore, deal?” Crisis smiled. This would be too easy. “Deal” she said. The stranger nodded. “Then, on your mark, get set…GO!”
On the word “go” Crisis sprang into action. Her hand sped toward him and closed around him. But when she withdrew it, it was empty. He was gone. She looked around, listening for him. Under brush, up in the trees, no matter where she looked, she could not find him. After a minuet or two she felt a tap on the very top of her head. A strand of her hair fell before her left eye and suspended on it, was the stranger. “That’s one, girly. You really need to watch your-self. I swear I was standing up there forever!” Crisis reached for him again, but rather than grabbing him, she missed again and ended up slapping herself in the face. The stranger, landing on a nearby tree branch, began rolling with laughter. “That be two, lass”
Crisis looked down at her hand and saw that he had left the Bo staff behind, making her hit her own head with it. Although he was getting the best of her at the moment, Crisis smiled. She was still having fun. It had been a long time since prey had given her such a challenge. The stranger was still laughing. Now was the moment for Crisis to strike. She sped toward the branch and made another grab, branch and all. This time, she got him. “Ah Ha!” she exclaimed, “Its Tummy time for you. Thanks for the great game.” With that, she popped him into her mouth.
She was about to swallow when something strange happened. A sensation grew in her mouth which she had never had before. She rolled him around a bit, further trying to understand this sensation. It was then that her body naturally reacted. She spit him back out with a loud and forceful “YUCK!” The stranger landed in her hand and she looked at him with a look of confusion. “What are you? You don’t taste like a human, you don’t even LOOK human.”
And indeed he did not. For when she spit him out, his cloak came off, revealing his features. It was nothing Crisis had ever seen before. His body was human, or at least looked human. But it had a tail, like a Neko would, only bushier. And his head was similar to a kensha beast. Were a human to describe him, he looked like a werewolf. He was definitely not a native of Felarya. He sat up in her hand and looked up at her. His eyes disturbed her, as it would most beings. For his eyes were pure white. There was neither color nor pupil to them. Like two orbs of white marble, able to stare into your very soul. Sadness took shape into his face. “It would seem,” he said, “that we of the Taur’Draug are immortal even to being eaten.” He sighed deeply as his face bowed in frustration. His ears, being on the top of his head, laid flat against it. “It would appear I am doomed to continue to run.”
Crisis brought him closer to her face to examine this creature more closely. “What are you?” she asked. Again, he looked up into her eyes. Those eyes, she thought, they were creeping her out. “I suppose I could tell you my tale, but would be rude not to introduce me self first.” He stood, a bit of his old joy returning. He bowed, “I am called Guar,” pronouncing it “Goo are,” “last of the Taur’Draug.” Crisis’ head tilted to the side. “But what is a Taur’Draug? You keep calling yourself that, but what is it?” she asked. Guar smiled, “Simply, we are an immortal race sworn to protect humanoid kind. Though, in my home dimension, the humans turned on us. So we became dimension hoppers, traveling from one dimension to another. Usually, because of our looks, we were called werewolves and either banished or fled to other dimensions. After several hops, it has all come down to me. I am the last.”
Crisis was totally drawn in. Here, in her hand, stood a creature who had visited many dimensions, many worlds. She could hardly imagine the stories he could tell. She nodded in response. “I’m Crisis, a Naga.” Again, Guar bowed. “Tis a pleasure, Crisis. Though I know not what a Naga is.” Crisis looked confused at him. “Well, I am. See?” she waged her tail at him a bit, to show it off. Guar simply laughed. “No, lass, I can’t. Least not like you, anyway. I am technically blind. Tis the price for being a Taur’Draug. But what we lack in sight, we make up for in hearing and smell. I can tell what you look like from that.” She lifted him up to her shoulder and began making her way home. He perched himself comfortably and they began to converse on the way back to the Great Tree, him telling her stories of his adventures.
Meanwhile, in a dark alley in Negev City, a portal opened and out stepped five men. They were dressed in black trench coats and matching cowboy hats. They stepped into the street and the man in the middle took a deep breath. “He’s here, I can feel it.” He turned to the man on his left side for confirmation. Consulting a small, handheld device, he nodded. “Definite signs, sir. The werewolf is several miles to the north. It will take us several days to track him down.” The man in the middle nodded and turned to the rest. Pointing to two of them, he said “You and you go secure us some sort of map of the area and a place to set up a base camp. You,” pointing to the third not yet addressed, “are on Intel duty. I want to know what dimension we are, what lives here, who lives here, and all the important locations. I want you to become a native within the hour.” He turned to the one with the scanning device. “I want a bearing on where he is. I want to know how far from here, how many days it will take to track him down, and where he has set up camp. And I want it now. Not tomorrow, not after breakfast, NOW!”
Each man set about his set task. The man remaining looked up at the sky and smiled. “I got you now, you freak.”