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The voice startled him greatly, a small yelp escaping his maw. He immediately bristled, snarling, backing away from the place from which the sound had emerged. His fiery eyes rested on the log, on whatever was within. A hulking shadow. . .

Tammak stood his ground, unwilling to turn and run and leave himself vulnerable. He would assess the threat before taking action. He acted more in fear than in anger; there was an undercurrent of terror, a constant rippling of skin that belied his youth.

A boy, on his own, frightened of nothing and of everything.