It was evening and it had just been a couple days since the first signs of spring.

  The forest was becoming more and more active by the day with the animals coming back from hibernation and the birds loudly rejoicing with another winter survived.

  The boarlings were sitting in their camp and Torin was reflecting on and explaining their last fight to the other three.

  Sure, they were getting stronger just naturally by hunting, but focused learning made sure to iron out the last few nooks and crannies they had.

  Torin, also, in this time, came up with a battle formation he labeled ‘Three Fangs’ and that was the point of their discussion right now.

  As the name suggests, the party was split into three combat roles. Two in front and one behind to fix the prey from escaping.

  A boulder. Which stands in front and takes up the enemies’ attention, not letting them pass or push forward - Torin and Raskar.

  A cobra. Which stands behind and strikes the enemy without having to worry about defense - Dashura.

  A fly. Which buzzes around the enemy, distracting it, making sure it doesn’t run away, and making the job easier for its boulders - Brakk

  It was flexible enough to adapt to most circumstances while also providing relatively simple roles so that they could effectively work off of each other.

  Just as they were rounding up the discussion, they felt a slight tremor of the earth. The group grew quiet, their ears standing up, paranoid from continued life-and-death battles.

  Over the next few minutes it grew stronger and stronger, they could now hear hundreds, if not thousands, of rhythmic beats against the ground.

  Slightly panicked, the group stood up, readied their weapons and tensed their bodies for the expected, soon-to-be encounter. Like a taut string, the tension grew and grew until they spotted the cause of the commotion.

  “RUN!!”

  Torin shouted the moment he witnessed it. It was an endless swarm full of all the beasts you could ever imagine. Foxes, wolves, lynxes, deers, does and so on…

  “Why the hell is that happening!?" Brakk yelled out while trying to keep pace with Torin.

  “Shut up and run!” Raskar responded, this being a rare occasion his composure was broken, dread and adrenaline overtaking his senses.

  Ragged panting could be heard as they kept pushing onwards, the beat of death right behind them getting closer and closer by the minute.

  Breaking through the last few trees a visage of the abyss emerged. Breathtaking sight notwithstanding, they kept running down the rocky downhill. The wave right on their heels.

  10 meters.

  8 meters

  5.

  3

  Hopping over a small boulder, instead of another step, what met their hooves was air.

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  *THUD*

  “BACK!” Torin yelled out, pushing off the ground straight backwards. In his mind the slight ledge providing at least a chance of survival.

  As luck may have it, their lower limbs met air once again.

  After spending a moment in the air. Just enough to think he led a good life, cold water submerged them.

  *Plump*

  A sound disturbed the quiet cave systems.

  Needles of pain could be felt from the dark and icy liquid.

  Panic. Confusion. Fear. All these could be used to describe their current state, but hopeless was not one of them.

  Their bodies went into overdrive. Using every possible microscopic bit of energy to push their bodies to survival.

  Then… blankness.

  ***Some time later***

  They woke up on a mossy with patches of stone protruding, shore?

  Looking around, Torin could see the body of water they most likely fell into. Their spears half floating half sinking on the water's dark surface.

  Feeling a hand on his shoulder, he flinched before realizing it was his companion.

  “The other two are still out.” Raskar whispered quietly.

  Taking in more of the surroundings now that he got his bearings. He could see tiny springs snaking over oval outcroppings of stone. Luminescent moss blanketing most of the available space.

  Besides the one they fell in from, another three entrances were gaping their pitch-black maws, all leading abysswards.

  Over the next few minutes Torin somewhat clumsily retrieved their weapons. Then proceeded to gently wake Brakk and Dashura.

  Everybody was exhausted, cold, and tired. But resting now would only worsen the problem they had, hunger. There was no food or prey to speak of; drinkable water was in abundance at least.

  “Ahhhggr” Brakk let out a groan, about to complain before noticing the tense atmosphere of his three teammates.

  “Are we going to die?” Dashura took this chance to voice out her worries.

  “Maybe, definitely if we continue lazing around.” Torin calmly answered, the idea of comforting someone not even occurring to him.

  “We will head to the rightmost crevice as it has a slightly upward angle. Also don’t eat the moss here, nine out of ten times there’s a reason an organism makes itself be seen, and it might be your last meal if you do.”

  They proceeded to fall into their usual ‘Three Fangs’ formation, slowly and cautiously moving forwards.

  Minutes turned into hours. Everything looked awfully similar to each other, and it was hard to make out how far they traveled.

  The boarlings barely kept their eyes open, eyelids drooping from the monotonous sight. Sometimes an accidental slip or stumble sending small pebbles scattering down.

  Just as Torin was about to call the march to a stop, they finally spotted something different.

  It was some sort of bug about a handspan in length and half that in width. It had a light blue carapace with two big azure eyes pictured on top of it.

  It was eating someone's or something’s dung, not even paying any attention to its surroundings. Carefully rounding the bend, the team gained an open view of the cavern and spotted another one of the beetles.

  Drool already pooling in their mouths, they jumped on the opportunity to finally eat. Even Torin didn’t hold back.

  *Creeek*

  Their spears glided over the dung eyes' tough surface. The poor thing trying to run away before Brak mounted it and pierced his keratin-covered hands into the gaps between.

  *Krgk*

  He tore the bug's head off before holding it up and slurping up its brain.

  “Hey, leave some for me!” Dashura chirped while grabbing the body of the bug right out of Brakk’s hands.

  The other dung eye just stood, most likely shell-shocked by seeing what most likely was his mate being eaten alive.

  Nevertheless, it didn’t stand there for long, as it soon joined his friend, feeding Torin and Raskar in the meantime.

  Hoping to find more of these dung-eye creatures they went further in, but just a few minutes later, they encountered something completely unexpected…