Chapter 6: Fallen Prey

The forest had grown unnervingly quiet. It had been days since the pack had last ventured out to hunt, and the silence that had settled in its place was stifling. The Great Jagras could feel the weight of it pressing in, its usual senses now heightened, its instincts on edge. The wind carried no familiar sounds—the skittering of small creatures through the underbrush, the soft calls of birds overhead—all of it was gone. The usual rustling, the sounds that marked the life of the forest, had fallen away.The pack moved cautiously through the dense foliage, each step deliberate, as though the very act of walking would provoke something unseen. The absence of the small creatures was unnerving, like the forest itself had grown afraid. A Mernos passed by the Great Jagras, moving sluggishly, its eyes heavy, too slow to escape its usual instinct. Normally, the creature would have darted away at the slightest motion, but instead, it only glanced at the pack, unbothered, before continuing on its path with deliberate ease.It was wrong. Something was off.The Great Jagras paused, its head low, nostrils flaring as it drew in the unfamiliar scent that had begun to saturate the air—damp, earthy, and foreign. The pack's leader could feel a subtle shift in the atmosphere, a tension that had no clear source. The usual thrumming energy of the forest seemed to have been dampened, suffocated by an invisible weight.With a low growl, the Great Jagras motioned to the pack, signaling them to stop. The other Jagras' eyes flicked nervously between each other, their muscles taut. They could feel it too—the unsettling absence of the forest's usual life. The Great Jagras' fur bristled slightly, its massive frame rippling as it surveyed the surroundings. There was no sign of their prey, no telltale sounds of movement in the underbrush, no birds flying overhead.Then came the sound. The faintest crackling from the dense thicket to the right. It was a soft sound, but it carried an unnatural quality, like the whisper of something too deliberate. The pack stilled, their bodies frozen, every fiber of their being alert. The Great Jagras turned its head, its eyes narrowed, and its ears flicked back as it attempted to decipher the source of the disturbance.Another rustle. This time, louder, more pronounced. It was too much like a trap being set—a small, careful movement, as though something was waiting just beyond their reach. The Great Jagras could feel the weight of its pack's gaze, the shared unease reflected in their bodies. It was instinctive to be cautious, but this... this felt different.And then came the sound. A growl. A deep, rumbling growl that echoed through the trees—but it was wrong. The pitch was off. Too sharp, too precise. The pattern was strange, unsettling, as if someone had studied the Jagras' language and twisted it. The Great Jagras' tail flicked nervously, its body coiling in preparation for something unknown.The growl came again, and this time, the Great Jagras was certain: it wasn't one of them. The voice had been mimicked, but it wasn't right—it was too clean, too controlled. It was a trap.The pack's restlessness surged. They shuffled uneasily, their ears pinned back, their eyes darting from shadow to shadow. The Great Jagras hissed under its breath, a low, warning snarl to silence them. It was too early to show weakness.Then came the fluttering. Small shapes moved above, not the usual brief flutters of birds taking flight or small mammals scrambling through the branches, but a heavy rustling—unnatural, drawn-out. The Great Jagras' eyes snapped upwards just as the first small creature—a Mernos—dropped from the canopy, landing in a heap on the forest floor. It was disoriented, its limbs jerking unnaturally as it struggled to regain its footing, its fur matted and stiff, as if it had been frozen mid-motion.More followed. A flurry of bodies—smaller creatures, their movements frantic, erratic. These were not the creatures they were accustomed to hunting. The animals had lost their fear, had lost their usual skittishness, and now, instead of scattering, they fell, one by one, from the trees above, each landing with a thud on the forest floor.The Great Jagras and its pack recoiled, stepping back with sudden caution, their bodies stiffening as the falling creatures began to swarm around them, their frantic movements adding to the growing sense of confusion and unease. The once-scarce prey had turned into a maddened, disjointed swarm, and as each small creature landed, they became more frantic, more erratic, as if possessed by an unnatural force.The pack's instincts kicked in, but the confusion of the sudden assault threw them off balance. The Great Jagras let out a deep, guttural growl, its body tense as it swung its tail violently, clearing the space around it. But the creatures kept falling. Another Mernos, a Felyne, and then more, one after the other—like an endless downpour of bodies. The Great Jagras could feel its own tension rise as the pack stumbled and scrambled, trying to clear the creatures from their path.With a sudden, harsh roar, the Great Jagras issued the command for retreat, its body turning sharply. The pack, thrown into chaos, hesitated for only a heartbeat before following their leader, moving away from the flood of creatures falling from above. The infected Jagras' trap had been sprung, and they were retreating into the unknown.The Great Jagras turned back to face the advancing danger. The first infected Jagras, its body distorted and covered in writhing tendrils, emerged from the shadows of the trees. Its eyes locked onto the Great Jagras, a predatory gleam flashing in its gaze.The battle was just beginning.