Blackfeather Woods stage 3: bargaining

His display was matched by her own. A flash of familiar teeth that grew in his minds eye to the size and shape of a bear. Around him the shadows grew and swarmed, and in an instant he stood in the darkness of a winding cave - and before him was @Shardik. He knew it wasn't real. He knew it. But those teeth! That glare! Coupled with the half-remembered fear that his brain had fixated upon, his time being chased underground was overlaid by the half-memory of Towhee's teeth at his throat.

Apropos to this, the old man backed up and cowered low. The strong scent of urine and its warmth flooded the dirt beneath him. His one eye was wide enough for the white to show, and his pupil dominated. Was he high or was this a flashback to his earlier abuses? It didn't matter.

He didn't want to die.

Pl-please no, no nono, n-not again -- he verbally scrambled. More pleas fell from his lips, flattening, rolling, soiling himself. A flash of a yellow belly, tongue flicking snake-like and reaching for her chin. 'm so sorry.

What had he done? He didn't know, not really, not now; but he would do anything to make it stop.