Ancient

“Did you hear that?” Tidas grabbed his sword, which was lying next to him. Uriah heard it too. He stood motionless, listening. The horses, which were tied to a tree not far from the fire, started jostling about nervously. The forest fell eerily silent. All they heard was the rippling of the creek and the barely audible distant rumble of a waterfall. Tidas sat up and looked around. He looked at Uriah who was standing over the fire with his back turned to him. Crack. It was clearly the sound of a stick snapping in the dark forest. And it was close. Now the horses grew really nervous. They pulled against their ropes and stomped angrily with a mad look in their eyes. Uriah walked over to his pack and picked up his sword. Tidas stood up. “Sshh, Fire, it’s ok girl.” All he could think of was his recent encounter with the Offspring giants. Uriah figured the sound was a wild beast of some kind … perhaps a wolf or a raptor. Please, let it be a wolf. Crack. Swish. That sound came from the opposite side of the camp than the sound before. They looked but saw nothing other than the dark, misty forest. The only light was their little campfire that lit up an area no larger than fifteen steps wide. The horses were frightened out of their minds, neighing chaotically. That is when they heard the dreaded sound: the sound that launches real fear into the heart of even the strongest, bravest man. The guttural, clicking hiss they heard was a rare and deadly noise. Few men have lived after hearing it.