An old west tale... in space.

3.2

She saw one, right by the fire, on her side of it, big and black and brutal looking.

Now how to get it? How to get it when those ugly, ugly eyes weren’t looking right at her?

Before she could even start on her plan, Rha-Nak-Tay stood, its’ carapace snapping loudly as its cricket legs brushed against it. She followed its’ four baleful eyes with her own.

“Yes?” She asked it. “Have I done something wr---“

She caught herself. Of course she hadn’t .

‘Don’t be moron, don’t let on that you know something.’

It took the coat off it’s back, it’s useless wings, their use lost somewhere along the species’ evolutionary track, stretched out, snapping in the same horrid way its carapace did.

The Sy-el leaned back, every one of its multiple limbs stretching outward as it let out an incredibly loud piercing screech.

That was enough for her, she lunged for the black rock.

The creature was faster. Before she managed a few steps, she felt her arm pulled upward, a sharp stabbing pain went through it and up into her shoulder as the creature bent it up and away from the rock.

“No,” it said in her ear before she found herself flipping over in the air.

She landed on her face, saw those stars everyone told you they saw and tasted salty blood in her mouth.

When she recovered the use of her arms and legs, she used to them to turn herself over.

Escape, her desperate mind told her, escape!!! Get up, get up, get away, get away!!!

Then she heard two more of them.

End part 3.2