The footsteps grew louder, heavier, as more towering goblins joined the ones already trudging forward. They advanced with brutal confidence, their guttural bellows echoing against the twisted trees. Thirteen in total.
Thirteen goblins, cornering Steve and Fiona from every angle, voices rumbling in harsh, primitive tongues.
The lead goblin—the one that had devoured their comrade whole minutes ago— stood proudly, still just a few meters away from the rock where Steve and Fiona hid. It's jaws still stain with the fresh crimson thickness of the magic guard's blood.
'Please don't notice us. Please don't notice us. Please don't notice us.'
Steve's thoughts spiraled, looping on that single prayer. Only thirteen, but far too many. He couldn't control that many at a go. Not in any useful way. If they were spotted, without a shadow of doubt, they'd die.
