The ground trembles with a slow, deliberate rhythm. Distant thuds grow louder. Branches snap. A flock of pterosaurs erupts into the sky in panic.

From the mist, a colossal silhouette emerges One-Eye.

His massive form is riddled with scars, his left eye a milky void. His hide twitches with each step, muscles coiled like a living weapon. His white underbelly is stained red with old blood, some of it still fresh.

He pauses. The air goes still. One-Eye turns his head slightly, nostrils flaring as he catches a scent. Something living. Something weak.

He lowers his massive head, sniffing the earth. Then a sudden twitch of his eye. He turns. Fixates.

In a flash, he charges but not in a mindless sprint. Every movement is calculated, precise. He doesn’t roar. He doesn’t bellow. His silence is more terrifying than a scream.

He stops inches from his prey towering, unmoving, and watching. He leans in, his breath hot, heavy, and humid. A thin line of drool slips from his jaw, sizzling as it hits the ground.

Then, with cold, mechanical precision, he shifts his weight, opens his maw just slightly revealing jagged, misplaced teeth and grins.

A low, guttural growl vibrates deep in his chest. Not a warning. A promise!

And then silence. He’s gone. Vanished into the fog. But you know he’s still there… watching. Waiting. Hunting!