Honeyed Pasture [BWP P2] you're part of a machine

Though a mere shell of its former self as of late, Honeyed Pasture had remained a relatively bountiful hunting ground in spite of the calamity befalling the Wilds. Herds of various species still grazed its grasses, and the resident coyotes could be heard yipping and howling to stake their claim.

Until now.

The earth creaked and rumbled like an ancient machine brought back to life. The worn plates below the surface grated against one another, sending wave upon crashing wave through the ground. Many lost their footing and fell with a meaty thud. Doing anything but holding one's ground was impossible until the thrashing ceased. After an agonizing fifteen seconds of this, there was naught but silence.

Then, finally able to act on their panic, the elk herd began to flee from the meadow in a frenzy, followed by the bison. The cacophony of hooves was like thunder, though it couldn't even compete with the deafening grinding of the earth it followed. Any creature unfortunate enough to be caught underfoot would be crushed to a pulp. The coyotes watched on, hoping for some unfortunate soul to meet such a fate. It would be the last substantial meal they'd scavenge from this place for a long time to come.

by Sparx