[Ithaeliel]

Ender gripped Calentoliel's shoulder tightly, although her own hand was shaking. "It's futile," she whispered, and even her strong nerve could not conceal her fear. "We can do nothing but keep it at bay until the daylight. Night is its hunting time. It will tire... eventually," she finished. Calentoliel looked back at Ender doubtfully, although the ranger knew she was right. But another piece of reason soon wound its way into her train of thought. It will tire, but we will tire quicker. You are not far from your doom. A chill feeling ran down her spine as she released Calentoliel.

Ender shifted her eyes to watch the beast. In her mind, it was Death, a shrouded black spirit, and she saw another form-- one more human-- behind it. As she squinted to see, horror gripped her heart. It was little Nessa. Death's hand gripped her by the shoulder, and she was pale and fearful. "Help me, Ender!" she cried, although it was heard by no other. Then she watched in utter terror as Nessa vanished from her sight. She looked back at the beast and drew her sword. She muttered under her breath, "Do not try to tempt me, savage beast. I know your ways. I have my wits about me."
She was surprised to hear a hissing voice reply: Yea, young ranger; thou hast thy wits about thee. But thou knowst not my ways. 'Tis not I you should hunt.

As Ender tried to make sense of his words, she saw that the others seemed to be listening as well. Had it spoken to them?

Before Ender could say any more, the beast seemed to vanish into thin air.

[ September 12, 2002: Message edited by: Ithaeliel ]