P.L. Parker

P.L. Parker

Sunday, January 12, 2014

Weekend Wallop - WIN

The Breeder Prince - WIN

If I’m going to do something, I’d better do it fast! Maybe a small distraction, long enough for the two to escape…if they were smart enough to flee when the time came.
He slipped from his perch and dropped, belly-crawling through the spiny undergrowth. Intent on keeping track of the Deg’Nara soldiers’ positions, he failed to see one of the prickly plants growing rampant on this planet. As his hand came down, a poison-tipped barb imbedded in the muscles of his palm. Flaring waves of intense pain raced up his arm. Cursing his stupidity, he ripped the barb free. Not enough to kill me but more than enough to cause some major discomfort!
More jeering laughter as the Deg’Naras found another unlucky soul. Peering through the brush, he gritted his teeth, biting back a growl of rage as a soldier crushed the victim’s throat beneath his heavy boot. The stalkers drifted nearer, formed a circle around the gory spectacle and cheered the executioner to even greater lengths. Strutting and posing for the benefit of his audience, the thickset mongrel delivered more blows to the now lifeless form.
The gruesome entertainment sidetracked the Deg’Naras’ attention but it wouldn’t be long before they renewed the hunt. He reached back and retrieved a long tube from his pack, ignoring for the moment the agonizing throb of his injured hand. Carefully snapping off a number of barbs from the spiny bush, he fitted them into the tube and drew a deep breath. If he could make the bastards believe the projectiles were natural hazards of the planet, they might be tempted to leave. He picked a soldier standing on the far side of the circle and blew. The squat form jerked, howling in agony as a stubby hand slapped at his fat neck. 

He injected more barbs into the tube and blew. Another warrior screeched, spanking his shoulder where the barbs lodged. More barbs joined the first two barrages before he melted back into the brush, working his way along a dry wash. Howls of pain and sobbing curses rent the air. He kept his head down, inching through the scrub. If the two entities were smart, they’d be moving!


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