The Sword of Athrar

A Sharp Encounter

This wasn't the end.
In a silent moment of broken time, I vowed to myself:

-This. Is not. The end.-

The beast plummeted back down towards me, gaining speed as it fell.

Just at the last second, I pushed off the ground with my feet, rolling backwards, and landing crouched in the snow.

ARGH

The monster had only just missed me, but I was unsure of where it was now. It was somewhere in the ground beneath me.
That's all I knew.

I thrusted my hand into the snow, and closed my eyes, trying to feel the ground for vibrations.

My heart was going too fast, and I couldn't concentrate.

I took a deep breath, and let the cold air go, calmly.

I started to feel something.

More powerful.
Stronger.
More frequent.
Vibrations-

Once again, the beast exploded out of the snow in front of me, and once again I was thrown backwards. However this time, I was ready.

Although being thrown backwards through the air, I rolled as I landed, and ended in the same position as before: crouching, and steadying myself with my right hand in front of me - my left hand instinctively jumping to where I normally keep my knife, by my side. My instincts seemed to have forgotten it was now on my back, to make it easier to move in the snow.

I cursed myself for being so stupid; I couldn't make any more sudden movements.

This time, the beast didn't shoot up into the air, but instead stayed on the ground, rearing up onto what seemed like its back legs, giving off a shrill screech of aggression.

It landed back onto all of its legs, and scuttled slowly towards me. Its legs didn't seem to realise the densely packed snow that they were scuttling through - they cut through it as if it were air.

From this position, I could get a much better view of what I was facing...

A long, scorpion-like creature stood before me, only with thick, purple-black fur, no stinger, and a sickeningly humanoid head - completely mismatched with the rest of its body: pale and bald, with glowing violet eyes, inhumanly twitching every few seconds.
It must've been at least three times my size; its pincers the size of my forearm.

Getting closer to me, it slowed, and its head bent down so that its twisted face was inches away from mine.

Suspicious of what this creature was, or what it intended on doing with, or to me, I slowly moved my left hand to my back, gripping the hilt of my dagger tightly in my sweaty palm.

Its mouth opened, exposing sharpened, yellow teeth.

I held my blade ever tighter, ready to unsheathe.

"What... are... you here for...?" It growled.