Porcupine Ridge i was listening through the wall when you met your monsters

who wants to get beat up by a busted up guinea pig on steroids??

daylight washed the ridge, earth's honeyed milk pouring over mountaintops and cutting its light across the promontory –- reminiscent of the pale cerecloth of an empress long since passed from this world into the next.

the youth of the day found leif making his mindless, strutting way across the shale, wet nose set to work, snuffing against the rock corrugations underfoot. he had been tracking a peculiar scent for acres, and although he could not put an identity to the suspect, he was bested by curiosity –- as he often was -- and continued haunting the footsteps of whatever critter so captivated his interest.

tongue lolled and raggedy tail dropped between his legs, leif plucked along the ridge-nape, occasionally pausing in his travels to lift his nose to the sky and sample the air for any relic of a clue as to where his quarry could be hiding -- a process for which he was rarely rewarded.

jogging down the wooded slope of the east, the lad was starting to get bored, and just as he was making his exit through the brush, the smell from earlier that now only indistinctly murmured to his senses, suddenly stormed his nostrils with a potency that was equal parts disorienting and exciting. leif jerked his head to attention and strained his ears to listen as the shrubbery ahead trembled.

a massive creature with an ordnance of quills strapped to its back appeared from behind the undergrowth, toddling in a manner that clearly announced to all it encountered, "see this headgar? i gave my mama an episiotomy, wanna see how many ways i can fuck your shit up?"

oddleif reeled backwards on his haunches, ears flying back and his tail clamping against the undersides of his belly. WHOA. what the FLIP is THAT. dropping his head between his shoulders and sniffing apprehensively, leif flit his tongue over his jowls, nervously pacing and panting, slimtorn ears pivoting as he inwardly browsed his "prey or gtfo" vernacular for any trivia about this monstrosity. it looked unstable -- like it was taking a smoke break from an AA meeting after assaulting another member with a chair.

porcupinezilla looked entirely too unconcerned for oddleif to be comfortable with the situation, and the radius between them felt meager. but still.... the varmint looked sort of appetizing. and to be outfitted with all those harpoons, it was obvious to leif that it had to be conserving something that someone else wanted. probably something muy, muy delicioso. and he definitely wanted whatever it was.

circling it shyly, his eyes sharply focused on it's anatomy for signs of any weaknesses that might lend him favor in a confrontation. unfortunately, every last body-part, save for its undersides, carried with it the threat of impalement. leif did not think his head would look particularly handsome on a skewer, so he exercised caution in his movements to ensure that none of his appendages sustained damage from a discharged quill.

the rodent chattered –- snickered, even –- and bristled his mohawk as the brazen wolf loped about him. it's body followed oddleif's gestures, feet shuffling, bay head bowing. did i mention the quills?

becoming increasingly frustrated by the lack of progress, a whining bark erupted from the wolf's throat. he dipped into a play-bow and snapped at the air between them, before scuttle-butting into the bushes and returning again to repeat the performance, each time attempting to grasp at whatever vulnerable flesh was visible to him -- racing off again on hot wheels into the trees.

in leif's charming wee noggin, he was making significant inroads by tiring this creature out. realistically, he wasn't. even more realistically, all of his successes were paid into prolonging the inevitability of so much woeface.