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by Gen Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Fantasy · #904910
A giant groundsloth learns a valuable lesson...
Indistinct shadows streaked along the forest path. Darkness had descended only moments before. It had been greeted by a few barks and snarls. The lead shadow picked up the pace, surging forward as the others obediently followed.

A giant groundsloth had just crossed the path on his way back to his cave. He was a bit overdue in his return because he had found a new grove of especially tasty beech trees in the late afternoon. He immediately regretted his tardiness. After twenty years of living in the Forbidden Forest of Despair, he should have known better than to be caught out in the dark.

He was just a few yards from the path, tiny ears twitching slightly. He could hear them coming clearly now. Low panting growls with an occasional muffled yelp interspersed between them.

In a sudden fit of alarm, he turned towards the path. He braced himself and pushed on his forefeet once, twice, and on the third time with a mighty whoosh of expelled air, he pushed himself erect to his towering full height of eighteen feet! The giant sloth thrust out his mighty tail and balanced himself perfectly. A huge, hairy foreleg wrapped around a tree to further stabilize his great three ton bulk, and the other he let swing at his side, nervously clicking his sixteen inch claws together.

The sloth made a valiant attempt to compose himself as the sounds grew closer. After all, he was a giant ground sloth! If it was born of the forest and not of magic, he could easily deal with it, whatever it may be.

The slow-witted creature slowly turned his bearlike head in the direction of the commotion. The wind had shifted and was definitely in his favor. He prided himself on the abilities of his ears and nose seeing as his eyes were next to useless, especially at this height! What could be the source of those sounds he was hearing? A quivering nose sniffed the night wind.

Almost at once, his massive body was racked by great shudders. He let out a simpering, pathetic, mewling sound that would have been humorous under any other circumstances for a creature of his size.

It was a pack on the hunt! Wolves! And not just simple, everyday wolves, but Direwolves. They were bigger, and meaner, and stronger than common graywolves. What was he to do? They were coming right for him. He would make sure. That was what he would do first. He would make sure of his delicate nose. He lowered his head and snout and sniffed again.

A sudden burst of spasms shot through his entire frame. The right foreleg that had been swinging at his side leapt up to join his other one encircled around the tree. His large dark brown eyes rolled into the back of his sockets. The sloth's bladder emptied against the bark of the tree. He hadn't intended on marking this territory, but these creatures would certainly take it as such. And they would take it as a personal affront. By his Great Grand Godmother's long-furred tail, there were two Warwolves with the Pack! Almost twice the size and disposition of the Direwolves, they could easily mount a fullgrown troll upon their backs!

Despair seized the sloth totally and completely. At long last he had learned how his forest had earned its name. What else was left to him now, except despair? He clung to the tree and waited for his inevitable fate. This pack wasn't on a hunt. They were off to war! They were going to kill for the simple sake of killing. And they would kill everything that crossed their path until they reached the object of their mad fury. He had heard of this only once in all of his years. Little Chimu the long-tailed tree monkey had told him of it. How the sloth wished he was with the little simian now!

A long, drawn-out howl pierced the night, and the sloth nearly went into convulsions. A minute ticked by, and then another. The forest was deathly quiet. He peered around the tree, but saw nothing. He sniffed the breeze and the scent of the wolves was very faint. It was only a lingering scent. The wolves had passed him by!

With a great bellowing roar of joy, he dropped to all fours and sped off crashing through trees and plowing through dense thickets. He was heading back to his cave and safety at full speed.

He inadvertently woke up Little Chimu, the long-tailed tree monkey, in his tumultuous passing. Little Chimu laughed and threw big greasy walnuts at him from the safety of his treetop where all intelligent monkeys should be at this time of night.





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