6. Drasuk

6

Drasuk

I brush away the layer of damp leaves, revealing a small metallic box embedded in the soft earth. My claws, still dripping with the genali's gore, click against the smooth surface.

It's a clip of ammunition, likely of braceaaer origin.

Before I can figure out a way to store it, a fresh scent hits me, sharp and alluring, cutting through the metallic tang of blood and the cloying stench of genali slime.

Sure enough, it is the scent of my enemy, the genali, but laced with something else, something tantalizing.

My instincts roar to life, urging me toward the source.

This isn't just another slime. This is something different.

It causes a shifting interest at the junction between my lower gut and pelvis and I take a few steps toward the scent before I am even conscious of the motion.

How could something so discomfort-inducing also smell so good ?

I glance around for the clip of ammunition I dropped, but decide it isn't worth sifting through the puddled corpses or displaced flora.

Ignoring the throbbing pain in my muscles, I push forward, drawn by the irresistible aroma.

North, it beckons. The dense foliage brushes against my tough hide, the humid air heavy in my lungs.

The lush grass-covered ground gives way to rocky terrain, the undergrowth thinning out, but still green and lustrous.

With each step, the scent grows stronger, filling my senses with an unknown yearning.

My mind screams at me to stop, to be cautious.

This could be another trap, but danger seems to be a fleeting concept when the smell clinging to my palate like an embrace simply refuses to go away. I pull it deep into my lungs, then ignore my mind's attempts to be reasonable and cautious.

I pad toward the wafting scent.

What else do these insects have in store for me?