Kveta cowered underneath the branch as the beast stalked overhead. It was as alike a dragon as she had ever seen, like those in the books at the library in Ristor, scaly and fork tongued. Though it walked with a limp, its body was the size of carriage, and its teeth jutted out as long as swords. She clutched her rifle tight to herself, shaking.
And then, a snap near to her. A flash of steel and the beast roared, staggering as it turned to face the new aggressor. Kveta caught only glimpses of the huntress, her armor black and red, her sword nearly as tall as she was. The huntress flashed the blade as though to dazzle the beast and then held it up at shoulder’s height.
Howling, the beast charged, swinging its forelimbs, alternating with each step.
The huntress stood her ground until she leapt up. Kveta could see little else than a spray of the beast’s sour green blood, coloring the air as the huntress landed on the neck. Though the beast’s head had been cleaved in two, from nose to skull, the huntress planted her sword just under the base of the beast’s skull, and twisted her blade.
