"What is that?"
The shepherd glanced up at the howling sound coming from the south upon being asked by his young son, swinging his staff to drive the flock of sheep.
As evening approached, with nightfall an hour away, the father, child, and two faithful, elderly sheepdogs were herding the bleating sheep back to the village when, from the white birch forest in the south, emerged a strange form.
It was no beast; the thing had no parts resembling limbs but rather appeared as a massive green beetle with a wonderfully rounded contour, shrouded in the crimson of the setting sun, belching smoke, and speeding forward with a bizarre noise.
The shepherd instinctively grabbed the hunting knife at his waist, thinking it some unseen danger, and assumed a defensive stance. Then, he relaxed his entire body.
"That is..."
