You hear them first. The claws skittering — then the snarls fighting to be first to your throat.

Most call them Skarnlings. Lean muscle, broken teeth and eyes like old wounds.

One sniff in the dark and they’re on you— in a tangle of snapping jaws and shredding claws.

They love blood. The sick puppies lick up every last drop. Yours. Theirs. The warmer the better. Can’t get enough. 😋

By the time you swing your sword, you’re already bleeding from five places you didn’t feel happen.

Pack size? Four.. six or more maybe. By the time you realize what’s happening, it’s usually too late with any more than a couple skarnlings. Anywho, travel well and don’t trust the quiet. 👋