Hidden in the tree line, Aluk, and Matto crouched, watching as the hairless ones built their red-breath. The breath licked high into the sky, casting flickering shadows on the trees. One of the hairless ones stood and stretched, letting out a loud belch.

“I’m gonna take a piss,” he said, stumbling toward the forest’s edge.

The men wrinkled their noses as an awful stench wafted toward them. It was rank and overpowering, like garbage left out in the sun for days, layered with a heavy musk that clung to the back of their throats. 

“Geez, what is that smell?” one of them mumbled, turning his head away.

Aluk’s massive body tensed. He glanced at Matto, who raised a hand in warning. The elder’s unspoken message was clear: hold back. Watch, but do not act.

But Aluk’s mind surged with defiance. He sent an image of the hairless ones laughing, their red-breath consuming the sacred ground, the machine scarring the earth. Enough.

As the hairless one staggered toward the trees, Aluk shifted silently from his vantage point, slipping through the thick underbrush. His movements were precise, his hulking frame ghostlike in the moonlight as he circled closer. The rustle of the leaves, the crack of twigs—sounds that would have betrayed a human—blended seamlessly with the forest’s natural rhythm.

The hairless one stopped a few feet from the tree line, fumbling with his belt. Aluk waited, crouched just beyond the brush, his eyes locked on his target.

Before Matto could stop him, Aluk lunged forward.

The hairless one barely had time to gasp before Aluk’s hand clamped over his face, silencing him. In one swift motion, Aluk dragged the hairless one into the thickets. There was a muffled cry, then silence.

Back at the red-breath, the second hairless one looked up, frowning. “Derek?” he called, squinting into the darkness. “Quit screwing around, man.”

He heard something—a faint rustling from the direction Derek had gone. Then, the snapping of branches. A silhouette moved at the edge of the firelight, massive and looming, too large to be anything human.

A wave of panic washed over him, accompanied by a deep, unsettling fear. He stumbled back toward the clearing, nearly tripping over his own feet. His eyes darted around, trying to pierce the blackness. “Derek?” he called again, his voice trembling now.

When no response came, he turned and sprinted toward his four-wheeler parked near the fire. His hands fumbled as he started the machine, the engine roaring to life. The noise echoed through the forest, jarring and unnatural.

“Not sticking around for this crap,” he mumbled, his voice shaking as he gripped the handlebars and gunned the throttle. The four-wheeler lurched forward, kicking up dirt and leaves as it sped down the narrow trail towards the clearing’s edge.

The trail was dark, lit only by the pale beams of the machine’s headlight. The hairless one’s pulse quickened, the trees seeming to converge, their shadows alive with an unseen, unsettling presence. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting to see something chasing him.

As he glanced back at the trail, his eyes widened in disbelief.

Standing in the middle of the path was a towering figure, its hair gleaming faintly in the four-wheeler’s headlights. The creature’s glowing amber eyes locked on him, and its massive form blocked the trail entirely.
“Jesus Christ!” the hairless one screamed, shifting his weight as he jerked the handlebars in a frantic attempt to avoid the creature.

The four-wheeler skidded out of control, its tires losing traction on the dirt. The hairless one’s panic made him overcompensate, and the machine careened off the trail. It slammed headfirst into a tree with a sickening crunch, the force throwing the hairless one forward.

His body hit the tree with brutal force, a sharp thud reverberating in the woods. He crumpled to the ground at its base, groaning in pain. Blood poured from a deep gash on his forehead as he tried to crawl away, but his body betrayed him, too stunned to respond.

Aluk and Matto emerged silently from the darkness.

The brothers towered over the injured hairless one and the machine that had defiled their sacred forest. Aluk’s lips curled back in a snarl as he sent an image to Matto: the machine broken, destroyed, its noise silenced forever.

Matto stepped forward first, his massive hands gripping the four-wheeler. With a guttural roar, he lifted the machine as though it weighed nothing and slammed it into the ground. Metal crumpled and shattered under the force.

The hairless one whimpered, struggling to drag himself away. His effort was futile.

Aluk advanced, his amber eyes cold. His massive hand reached down, cutting off the hairless one’s final, strangled scream.