Within The Fog [Spooky Encounter!]

Cujo grimaced as mud stuck to his dark blue feathers, the swamp was his least favorite place to be. It was a cold and foggy night, the swamp water soaking his feathers as he trudged on. He’d gotten lost during one of his nightly hunts, having taken a wrong turn. Now, he roamed the swamp, in hopes of perhaps finding something of interest to at least make his rather unpleasant exploration worth it. He would’ve liked to be home hours ago, safe and warm within the bioluminescent caves that he and his partner called home—but no, he was stuck out here, and he didn’t even know where ‘here’ was. He sighed as he pulled himself from the muddy waters, climbing up onto a patch of land within the middle of the swamp.

Cujo shook the water from his feathered coat, hoping to rid some of the mud along with it. He could hear crickets and frogs, but the fog was thick and limited his sight, he’d have no clue if something was even out there. I’ll just have to wait out the night, Cujo thought to himself, squeezing himself under the space of a fallen tree and curling up tightly. Just as Cujo had begun to settle, he heard a faint but steady splashing sound, like someone was stomping around in the swamp water. He lifted his head, looking around but being unable to find the source of the sound. He quickly pushed himself to his feet, crawling out from the space beneath the fallen tree and scanning the nearby area. He was on high alert, whoever was making that noise could either be food or a threat. Just what was out there?

Cujo tried to listen closely and pinpoint the location of the sound, but it proved to be a difficult task with the frequent chirping of crickets and croaking of frogs. This isn’t working, he thought to himself, shaking his head with a frustrated huff. He had a vague idea of what he could do, but it was a stupid idea. Unfortunately, stupid ideas were all he had right about now. He hesitated, letting himself sit in silence for a few good minutes before he steeled his nerves and reassured himself it probably wasn’t that bad.

“Hello? Is someone out there?” Cujo called out warily, flicking his tail along the ground as he looked into the fog once more. Nothing responded, the splashing footsteps stopped. Even the chatter of crickets and frogs had gone quiet, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. His frustration grew in the absence of a response, forcing another huff from his nostrils. Raising his voice, Cujo lifted his head up high as he spoke again. “I know you’re out there!”

No response. However, the splashing had returned, growing closer and closer until Cujo could make out a figure in the dense fog. Something on four legs, could it be a wolf? Or maybe it was a deer? Cujo shook his head and stood tall, squinting to try and get a better grasp of whatever was approaching.

“No need to be yelling, you’ll scare all the fish away.” A hoarse voice spoke from within the fog, the splashing nearing closer until it revealed an Anteosaurus that was a sickly green color. For a moment, Cujo almost thought the Anteo had open wounds, but upon further inspection they just seemed to be his markings. The green Anteosaurus had an array of red and white markings along his sides and face that mimicked the image of wounds and bone. He seemed old, if his myriad of scars were anything to go by, and to be honest, Cujo thought he was a bit intimidating.

Cujo bristled, taken aback by the Anteosaurus’ appearance. He considered himself on the larger side of the average Cryolophosaurus, but even so, he’d never been face to face with an Anteosaurus. He hadn’t realized they were so big. For once, Cujo was speechless, unsure how to approach the conversation with the seemingly disgruntled Anteo. Was he intruding on its territory or something? He noted the bone-like spikes protruding from the Anteosaurus’ spine and tail, briefly wondering if they might’ve been real bone.

“Are you going to keep gawkin’ or are you going to speak?” The Anteosaurus growled, stepping onto the island Cujo had claimed for himself and forcing him to move off the shoreline. He huffed as he climbed out of the muddy water, letting it fall off his skin and drip from his chin as he looked at Cujo with a judgmental stare. He almost seemed like he was sizing Cujo up before he shook his head and spoke to Cujo again. “My name is Rot. This swamp here is my home, and you are very unwelcome.”

“Unwelcome?” Cujo hissed defensively in response, the feathered crest along his neck seeming to raise. This Anteosaurus, Rot, was trying to kick him out of the swamp? Cujo would not tolerate it. Despite his best efforts to relax, Cujo was not known for being the most levelheaded. Cujo nearly bared his teeth as he puffed up his feathers, seeking to look bigger than he truly was as he replied to the Anteosaurus. “And what if I refuse to leave?”

“Then I have no choice but to use force.” Rot grumbled to Cujo, already baring his teeth on display. Rot refused to waste more time on convincing the Cryolophosaurus to leave, he had no mercy for young arrogant fools. He charged forward, barreling right at Cujo who barely had enough time to jump away, snapping his jaws at the Cryo. He gave Cujo not a moment to reconsider, chasing after the Cryo with the fierceness of a bear.

Cujo whipped around to try and bite at the Anteosaurus, though having to be careful to avoid the claws of the four-legged creature. It was a messy exchange, Cujo barely managed to grab hold of Rot’s hind leg as his teeth sunk into Cujo’s tail. Cujo tugged with all his strength to knock Rot off balance, yanking his tail free from the Anteo’s teeth and leaving him with a mouthful of feathers. Gathering his thoughts, Cujo was coming to the realization that this was much more trouble than it was worth. But… that didn’t mean he was ready to surrender and run away just yet. Cujo charged toward Rot, slamming right into him and making the Anteo stumble backward. Cujo sank his teeth into the back of Rot’s neck, his claws scraping at skin and tearing into it.

Rot responded in kind, a loud snarl leaving his mouth as he swiped at Cujo’s feathered body, eventually grabbing hold of his arm and biting down as hard as his jaw would allow him. Cujo yelped in surprise, releasing his teeth from their point in Rot’s skin and flailing to escape Rot’s grip. Rot only held on, even shaking his head to tear at the Cryo’s feathers and skin.

As Cujo finally managed to escape Rot’s grasp, he turned tail and ran, nearly slipping on the muddy surface of the island as he made his way into the muddy swamp waters. The fight wasn’t worth the hassle, he’d just go hungry and be wounded. Cujo shook himself off, deciding to leave the swamp and return home to lick his wounds.

A lesson well learned for the young Cryolophosaurus.