EIGHT: THE NAGAFELES
“Stay calm,” Blott murmured, unsure whether he was addressing the beasts or himself.
There were seven of them. Snarling, one swiped at him with a paw as large as a bear’s. He ducked under it, but knew he wouldn’t be able to do anything if it truly wanted to kill him. If it was anything like the big cat he had seen in his nightmares, it was as heavy as a horse and could crush his head between its jaws like a soft peach.
The leader was easily the biggest. It was the one that had tried to take Blott’s head off his shoulders. The others watched, standing in the high boughs of trees or crouching in the mud. Their eyes shone eerily in the black mist now circling him.
“There we go. Just stay calm.” Blott’s voice was comically sing-song as he edged away.
A cracked twig to
