The loud shriek of tortured souls ripped him into wakefulness. The dream was a common one for the Old Hunter, but as his eyes shot open, this time it continued. The place he slept pitched and groaned, lurching from side to side.
Where…?
He was in the wheeled thing.
His refuge for the darktime lurched upward. The Old Hunter scrambled from the back compartment into the main area. Huge metal talons of an unknown creature had ripped through the roof, lifting it into the air. His heart pounded, trying to come out of his chest. He had not lived this long by being a fool. Any beast with claws that size was something to run from. One side angled down, but a clear barrier covered the opening, so he kicked at it frantically. It burst outward under his assault, and he looked out at the ground far below. The wheeled thing swung in the early morning light from the arm of the great metal beast. He would have to jump, and find somewhere to hide until darkness fell. He squeezed his muscular bulk out the opening and scrambled to the top, steeling himself. Then, before he could jump, the great beast released the wheeled thing. He clung to it reflexively; the fall seemed to go on forever and then ended in a crash of metal, ripping him off the wheeled thing. When it came to rest, he was pinned between it and the side of a metal box. A huge plate of metal started to creep downward.
It will crush wheeled thing.
Battered and bleeding, he pushed and struggled, and a bit at a time, it inched away from him. At last, he could move and had just started out of the box when the plate caught the end of the wheeled thing. The sound of tortured souls erupted once more. At the last second, he slipped over the side and dragged himself away. He expected the arm of the great beast to sweep down and pin him to the ground with its giant claw, but it seemed he went unseen.
He scuttled as quickly as he could, seeking refuge, finally worming his way into the bottom of a stack of rusted metal wheeled things. He concealed himself and checked his wounds. Nothing appeared to be broken, but cuts covered him and several were deep. The bruises would cause soreness for days, but the cuts would close soon enough. By nightfall, he should be able to travel. The pulse of the call still thrummed through him.
He would find this prey.