CHAPTER 2:
The beast, upon its final stamp into the ground, leaps up to its humanoid stature and rears its boned hand to swing at the man. In a preemptive strike; he swings his sword at the beast's abdomen, granting him distance as it digs its paws into the earth and skids to a stop, just enough that the tip of the sword slashes into its side. Yet, it was not distant enough to avoid his own injury with the creature's unnerving wingspan. Upon his backswing, the beast reaches its fleshless hand and claws to his side. He hears the chainmail rings plinking open and his tabard ripping as the foremost fingers of the monster tear into his flesh just below his ribs. Barely avoiding a broken bone; he hurls his sword around his front and arcs it down to the creature, catching in between the fingers on its hand that still was covered in flesh.
The blade slices clean through and separates the joint of the wrist, lodging halfway into the forearm. Accompanied by a shrill yelp, the beast leaps backwards, away from the man and his now bloodied blade. It squats down and inspects its own hand, now with a clean gash through it, and the blood dripping from the severe wound. The man also steps back several paces, providing an extra cushion of distance away from the beast, wary of its remarkable speed. The monster looks upon its wound, then back up at the man, baring its fangs with a snarl.
The man, given his slight reprieve, touches his gloved hand to his own wound, examining the blood that clung to his fingers with a sticky strand of crimson. "Is a blessed blade so surprising to ye?", he inquires, mostly to himself, aware that the feral cretin couldn't comprehend the sudden wounds it likely has never suffered until yet. "Unfamiliar-" he says, bringing his sword back into guard with the pommel at his waist and tip pointing towards the beast. "-with a man of God?"
They stayed apart. He didn't move, carefully watching the beast. Waiting for it to make a move, yet: there it crouched. Simply looking upon him with almost a curiosity. The knight stares back. Thinking of what this thing might yet do. Was it sizing him up again? Looking for escape? It doesn't even lap at its wounds. It kneels: rigid, and ominous. The rays of moonlight jump through the trees and give the creature a silhouette outlined by a creamy blue glow, with its eyes reflecting the light of the lantern that lies tossed onto the ground as they bore into the man.
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He sighs, and slightly relaxes his shoulders. Realizing it was little more than a feral creature. An abomination unnatural to the world, yes, but it didn't turn into a monster of its own accord, it was made by someone or something that had malice and violence in mind, seeking to unleash the beast upon the innocent; likely finding their own demise in that hubris of playing God. The creature was only different from any other wild animal in its form alone. He decides to speak unto it, yet the words were more-so for himself to hear. "Unnatural cretin: I fear you do not understand your monster-hood, and for that: I pity thee..."
The creature looks upon him for a moment more, then its ears flit up, and it looks to the sky. It sinks its head back against its shoulders and emits a deep, melancholic howl into the still air. Despite the situation, the knight couldn't help but take note of the majesty of its cry into the night. He snaps out of his admirable stupor and curses against the beast when he hears distant replies to the monster's now apparent call for aid.
"Damn you!" he yells at the beast, hoping it might snap a distraction out of it to cease the howling. Yet, to no avail. The beast continues its longing cry into the air while the man espies his lantern laying still upon the ground at his feet. He scrambles down to grab the leather strap of the lantern, voicing his thoughts: "The beast is too far to reach in time. Mine lantern must suffice."
As he stands upright again, he rears his arm back, lantern dangling by its strap, while uttering a desperate prayer: "Lord, guide my hand upon this wretch." He hurls it forth as if it were a sling and stone; sending the lantern flying through the air and directed at the beast of which still continued its alarm; taking no note of the incoming flame.
