Haze's face hardened into a determined grimace. The system had been clear: he needed twelve scorpion stingers, and these juvenile creatures, though small, possessed the very appendages he required.
A ruthless calculation played across his features as he sized up the nest, his eyes calculating and cold.
If he could dispatch these juveniles now, their stingers could be harvested, bringing him one step closer to his goal.
The thought of completing his mission quickly, of gaining the advantage of a map and finding his way out of this treacherous cave, steeled Haze's resolve.
Haze knew that the juvenile scorpions could not have survived this long in the cavern without some form of protection or supervision.
As he hacked and slashed at the small creatures, severing their stingers and inflicting grievous wounds, he grew more and more aware of the potential presence of something larger, more dangerous.
