——— POV : 3rd person ———
A persistent thought bothered Bod. It caused the frown wrinkles on his forehead to be even more pronounced than usual.
Something was wrong. Actually a lot of things were wrong, and the root of it all was elusive, like a shadow that had weaved it's way through his recent experiences. It was infuriating.
"Snap!" Another twig broke. There had been several before caused by the younger rangers on lookout duty, but this time it came from a small bush below him.
Bod looked down and saw something else that he immediately added to his list of things that were really wrong. It was so odd that he just watched it happen in front of him.
A bunnyrat, cheeks stuffed, poked its head out from the bush where the twig broke. With a disturbingly intelligent expression and shifty eyes, the rodent checked for enemies before it scampered off dragging what looked like a standard issue ranger dagger.
Nope!
Although he knew he probably should do something, he paused just enough for it to get away, at this point there had been too many weird experiences. He didn't want to write another report about the oddities he witnessed and get dragged in for more questioning or called on to lead another task force.
'I didn't see anything weird. The creatures are all completely normal.' The old ranger reassured himself, 'They are absolutely not watching us every second of the day, or robbing us while we sleep. What? Cant find your dagger? It probably fell out of your belt while we were walking. Right. Yeah. Everything is just normal.'
Bod once again reaffirmed his decision to retire. He was not coming back to these woods after completing this mission.
"Pssst! Everybody up, we've got company on the way!" Another of the rangers who had been patrolling a bit further off hissed quietly before giving the sleeping rangers a kick.
Dropping down silently behind the ranger, Bod grabbed his shoulder suddenly and turned him around. Ignoring the youngster's look of panic he immediately started questioning him.
"What's going on? What did you see? Enemies? Probably... how many? What type?"
"Give the lad a break!" Sebastian cut in, pulling the slightly crazed Bod away much to the younger ranger's relief. "You've scared him half to death!" Turning to the lookout, he paused to give him a chance to speak, "well?"
"Ahh... right! Saw some gobs in the distance making a racket while hunting. They'll be here in not too long."
"Good lad! Why didn't you say so sooner!" Bod rushed to make sure the others were informed before stringing his bow and checking his blades. These weapons had been with him through many sticky situations and he trusted them more than his current team.
Flourishing his dual short swords around with expert skill, he ended his routine by testing their sharpness and sheathing them again. Each one was meticulously maintained, and could cleave through a stack of papers with ease. He knew this, as that was his standard procedure for dealing with reports before he had shifted to a desk job.
"Captain!" A sleepy voice said nervously, "our bow strings... they've been ruined. It looks like something chewed on them while we slept."
The four young rangers who had slept like logs through both rain and critters crawling over them stood in shame as the veteran before them looked at them with what could only be disappointment.
Bod sighed... deciding that it was easier to just solve the problem rather than ponder its implications he brought out a couple of his spare bowstrings and prepared the bows himself.
"That's all I brought with me, so the other 2 will have to make do with being prepared to rush up close at the signal. Now get to your positions, our targets will be here soon and you won't have any more time to care about anything else!"
*******
7 fat, juicy bunnyrats had been caught so far. Their plump bodies safely stored in sacks carried by the runts.
Bluefang was enjoying the chance to yell commands and boss his underlings around. The extra food would go a long way towards keeping his gobs in tip top condition. How great would it be to find where these walking dumplings originated from!
Momentarily distracted by his delusions, the hunting party, which had worked itself into an excited frenzy by now, charged forward through the bushes yelling and slashing.
This tactic had worked great so far. Startling the fat rodents hiding nearby and causing them to abandon their hiding places in favor of running again.
This time however, what greeted them was to pointy ends of a volley of arrows. 3 gobs went down with shrieks of pain and surprise. Runts dropped their sacks and dove for the bushes while the warriors looked around for the hidden assailants.
The change from gleeful excitement to rage and fear was so sudden that Bluefang only had time duck behind a tree before chaos ensued.
Another volley of arrows shot out from behind the trees ahead claiming a couple warriors who had yet to figure out what was going on.
"Behind those trees!" Bluefang was the chief for a reason, he had experienced several brushes with danger and lived to tell the tale. Identifying the enemy and figuring out your chances were key to reaching adulthood.
Arrows, ambush, hidden enemies, silent attackers. Bluefang did not like the clues he had available, and he did not want to be facing the particular entities those clues pointed towards.
Any gob who had made a name for himself knew there was one group nearby which must absolutely not be provoked. Those silent hooded stalkers with their bows that could snipe a gob leader while they were surrounded by their grunts.
If one was a lucky son of a gob, you'd only run into a group of their runts. Those could be escaped from fairly easily, and if not... well you only had to make sure none went home to fetch the real nasty ones.
Something in the goblin chief's gut told him that he was not a lucky son of a gob. If he was lucky, why had he faced demonic mushrooms, a humiliating retreat, the disdain of his peers, the destruction of his home, and finally running into the dreaded stalkers.