Ankyra Sound i keep on dancing through the quicksand

Once more, Sobeille was quick to reassure Treepie. Slowly, the yearling’s shoulders began to relax, her fur smoothing. She needn’t fear colossal crabs scuttling into the den and snatching up the puppies—or the adults, for that matter—in their giant claws. She shuddered at the inevitable mental image.

She ought to get back out there, then, and find food for Sobeille. But Tiuttuk was reluctant to head out into the foggy woods again, for more than one reason. Her yellow eyes trailed over her friend’s face, then past her again. She could barely make out the puppies bundled up inside.

Sobeille’s musing recaptured her attention and Pie queried, Loa?

Once more, she saw it in her mind: an absurdly large crab—or maybe it was more like a spider—inspired by Quail’s description. There was a face of some sort nestled among those many bristled legs, though it didn’t quite take shape or form in her mind’s eye. All she could make out were the dead eyes staring at her as the numerous legs twitched. One stretched outward, a rawhide band with three feathers dangling from a grotesque pincer.