A Headstrong Youth
Part 4
The other smiled, raising a hand with his forefinger’s nail pressed against his thumb. “It wasn’t smart of you to come.”
His finger flicked forward and the sudden deep groaning sound between Joren’s feet was only warning enough for him to look down as a large root came whipping up against his chest and face, propelling him into the cavern where he crashed, his head coming down with a painful crack that melted his consciousness into partial darkness.
The pain at the back of his skull was what he first felt before he even realized he was awake, and then, warmth. With a stifled groan, he opened his eyes to darkness as he lifted one gloved hand to his head. A quick taste confirmed the presence of blood.
Attempting to roll into a sitting position, he was nearly overcome by dizziness nausea induced by dizziness and the ambient stench of rot. He shut his eyes to his swimming vision and stopped breathing for a moment until he was able to open them again and discover that the odd cavern that had surprised him had closed up on him like a giant trap. The opening was now blocked by long teeth-like points of stone that let in only the faintest zigzag of already poor daylight. Barely enough to distinguish the outline of his outstretched hand.
Through the gaps in the stone, the young knight spotted the man, if such a word could be used to describe him. Sitting on a large protruding root, the latter tore meat off a tiny slender bone with his teeth, his teeth and lips stained with red. As his dizziness slowly settled, Joren crept towards the entrance where he peered more closely between the pieces of stone caging him in. The other’s gaze lifted to his and he rose his red-stained hand, the back of which he used to wipe his mouth crudely and largely ineffectively.
“I told you that you were better outside,” the other told the trapped youth, grinning savagely.
“Let me out,” was Joren’s flat reply.