It began as a simple training exercise for myself and my trusted pet Amber, a plains tusk cat who is coming into her own as an able bodied companion in the most heated of battles. Upon returning home to Oracle Base, I was curious at the tracks I had found in the rocky sand.
Amber immediately became restless and irritated. I have been around animals enough to know when something isn't right.
And that's when the hot winds of Lok shifted and brought to my nose the familiar and choking stench of Gurks. They had made a makeshift rally point just beyond the base; no less then 30 of them on a quick count. And they were primed for a war party.
With no time to even call for backup, Amber and I dove into battle, feeling that surprise would be our only tactic.
They sent wave after wave, and the body count was piling up. At one point, they overwhelmed me, and only Amber kept them from finishing me off for good. Their whelps were particularly fierce, leaping onto my cats back and rending at her with their flat but sharp nails. My new E-11 was tested.
I lost count after the initial few, but there may have been close to 100 that rallied around their makeshift nest that afternoon. They had no intention on finishing what they started. As I've suspected before, Gurks are smarter then they appear.
I wonder now. Am I still the hunter or have I become the hunted?
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