The animal came with a smooth rush, whipping around the fire.
He leaped, clearing the fire, to gain the other side of it.
The animal checked itself, spun around to face him.
It put its muzzle to the ground and arched its back. It lashed its tail. It rumbled.
He was frightened now, cold with a fright that could not be laughed off.
It might be an animal.
It must be an animal.
No gag at all, but an animal.
He paced back toward the fire. He danced on his toes, ready to run, to dodge, to fight if he had to fight. But against this thing that faced him across the fire, he knew, there was no fighting chance. And yet, if it came to fighting, he could do no less than fight.
The animal charged.