Webber's POV

The sky was clear for the first time in days, thankfully enough. The constant rain was, in all honesty, driving us insane. The rain brought one good thing though- perfect opportunities to mess with WX as he was rendered practically useless by it unless he was struck by lightning, an occurrence that had happened only once that we knew of, that being when he and Wilson had gone out hunting.

We were all together now, trekking through the slightly less familiar forests outside of our typical pathways and places of interest. We lagged behind the other two, our whiskers twitching with concentration as we listened and scented for any change in the air. We were learning the ins and outs of this new world, no longer were any of us left completely victim to its twists and turns. A new, fresher breeze brought a new scent to our nose, and we paused, growling softly to tell the others to do the same. It was faintly similar to the smell of vultures or crows, but with a musky tang we couldn't recognize. Wilson saw our confused look and looked around. "What's wrong?"

"Dunno... we smell something we're not familiar with." A thought came to us. "Maybe it's the Moose? Should we follow it?"

"What do you two think?"

WX shrugged. "THAT IS OUR FINAL GOAL, IS IT NOT?"

"We're ready for a fight." We rolled our shoulders. This would be our first step to killing the giants. This is what we had been preparing for since the fateful encounter telling us what we had to do. "We've been ready for a fight." No more sitting and watching and waiting.

"Alright, lead the way then." Wilson nodded to us, and we obliged, taking the head and following the scent of the Goose. There was the sensation of tingling in the air that grew more intense as the scent grew stronger, like lightning arriving on the horizon.

The cover of the forest broke out into the frog-infested grassland, but almost the entire valley was haunted by the shadow of a larger being.

We could see her, standing on the crest of the hill. The sun was behind her at this point, making her form nothing but a mere silhouette. Wilson brought in a sharp gasp of air and WX took a step back. She was bigger than we could've imagined.

"Alright, here's the plan." Wilson seemed to snap out of his stupor and lowered his voice. "There's three of us and one of her. She has strength and size over us, but we have numbers and speed. We need to disorient her, make sure she can't hit any of us." He nodded at WX. "You're the heaviest hitter of any of us, and you can take the most hits. Think you can try to bring her down? If you focus enough on her legs she'll have to fall, and then we can get to her neck and head." The robot nodded, focusing on the titanic shape on the hill. "Webber, you're the fastest. Try to keep her attention away from WX, and try to hit and dodge as much as you can. WX might be able to tank her, but you're fast enough to kite her. Got it?"

"Sounds easy enough." We cracked our knuckles. Our blood was boiling like it hadn't for years- the readiness for battle that we had not felt since forcing ourself to act more civilized.

It felt... good. Addicting, almost. Our senses felt heightened, and we could almost smell the warm salt of the blood running through the massive creature's body. It took us a long moment to realize we were panting, and our face had been twisted into a snarl. It took us a moment even longer to realize that Wilson was giving us a concerned look, but we waved him off before he could say anything. He didn't need to know about this craving for battle, one of the few primitives things left from our other half. Wilson looked unconvinced, but he apparently chose not to protest. Instead, he merely motioned for WX and me to flank the monster. Slightly grateful, but refusing to admit it, we dropped onto a quadrupedal stance to approach it near-silently.

The Goose was milling around peacefully, hopping around in useless circles as if patrolling- or maybe, she's just too stupid to have any idea of what she's doing. Her bulk made the very earth shake, and we could see glimpses of reflected metal as WX was understandably tossed slightly out of his shelter, probably tripping from the vibrations. We, however, were unaffected, easily keeping steady even as the world shook around us.

Her head turned to the side.

She had seen something.

Her body turned as if she were looking at something behind her, and, as if we shared the same mind, we both slunk out of our cover. We could see the egg now, huge and gray with lightning sparking from it.

She honked in surprise as we reached her first, brandishing our weapon. We leaped and channeled all of our power into thrusting it into her leg. The smooth black skin split and her honk turned to rage. She kicked us away, the spear still embedded firmly in her skin, then raised her injured leg to stomp us into the ground.

WX got there first. His own spear held firmly in his grip, he was at our side in an instant, pressing the flat end of the spear into the ground with the sharp end sticking up. The inertia of her stomp was too great for her to stop in time, before impaling her own foot on the weapon. WX let out a grunt of satisfaction as she reared back. Both spears fell to the ground, and the blood flow from both had already been staunched.

She paused for a moment as if unsure as to which of her pesky targets to hit first. Her gaze landed on us, perhaps realizing that we were smaller and therefore had less defense against an attack. Satisfaction filled our chest as we figured that she probably suspected that we were just any child or easily smashable spider. The Moose let out what we assumed to be a battle cry, her wings flashing out as pure and primal rage twisted her beak into a snarl. She dipped her long neck down and bucked with her horns. For the most part, she missed, but the air from the force of the attack still swept us off of our feet. Her muscles rippled under the feathers of her body as she tried yet again to crush us into the ground.

We saved ourself this time, rolling out of the way of her attack while grabbing our weapon as we did so. WX had his weapon now, as well. He looked frustrated, but he attacked again nonetheless. His spear buried into the flesh just above her foot, deep enough that the sharpened end protruded from the opposite side of her leg. She didn't seem to notice, her gaze transfixed on us.

She reared back again, but this time her battle cry was caught off by someone else's.

"Go for the eyes!" Wilson shouted, his gray eyes alight with a fire we had never seen from the docile scientist before. In his grasp was not a spear, but instead, a weapon we were hardly familiar with- a glowing blue morning star. He heaved the weapon up, looking slightly strained, and swung at the same place that WX's spear was still embedded in. There was true anger in her honk now. We won't be able to do anything to her as long as we're only able to reach her legs. Luckily for them, we know what we're doing. Her attention temporarily focused on Wilson and WX, we disappeared into one of the many trees surrounding the Goose's nest. We scooted up the tree like a squirrel and stuck our head out of the newly growing leaves. The scent of springtime growth was almost enough to override the overpowering smell of bird meat, so powerful it was nearly dizzying.

Shaking our head vigorously, we reached the top of the tree and looked out. She had not seemed to notice our absence, too busy with focusing on Wilson and WX to care that we had disappeared. She wasn't very close, but it was close enough. Bunching our muscles, and taking a deep breath, we unsheathed our claws and lunged at her.

Her eyes caught ours in mid-air. A single, high-pitched noise erupted from her throat.

We were unable to dodge as she flicked her head to the side and knocked us out of the air, her horns hit our rib cage hard enough that we could almost swear that we heard something crack. For a split moment, we were almost certain that we were going to black out. It was terrifying, being flung through the air like a ragdoll.

Perhaps this was the reason we managed to stay conscious. Awareness spread through our limbs suddenly, and we managed to roll in mid-air to land neatly on all fours again. We were still intact.

But the failed attempt at a better fighting angle hadn't done anything to relax our mood. Letting out a snarl that rumbled deep in our chest and throat, we grabbed our weapon once more and rejoined the fight.

"Let me fight."

No. You won't be careful enough to avoid collateral damage.

"I've always been a better fighter than you."

I don't trust you. Stop distracting me. We shook our head furiously, trying to clear the webs from our thoughts. We were moving again before we even realized it, throwing up clots of dirt as our claws dug into the ground, with our spear being held in our mouth. We pushed past WX, who was viciously stabbing whatever he could reach of her, anger and determination burning in his eyeless gaze, and took a flying leap. Our claws pricked into the Moose's skin, allowing us to climb up her body almost as easily as we had climbed the tree.

She shook her whole body, probably trying to shake us off, but we clung to her feathers like a burr.

"Webber! Are you stupid?!" Wilson shouted from the ground. We, naturally, completely ignored him. We shifted our spear to our hand, clinging on with all other limbs, and stabbed the sharpened end into her neck. Warm blood bathed our claws, the smell of salt and sweetness overwhelming all other senses. It awakened a primal instinct in our mind, the pure feeling of power and approaching death sending us just inches away from falling into a pit of never-ending rage and bloodlust.

The beast gave a massive shudder, abruptly halting our descent into the blood-driven insanity. She contorted her neck almost unnaturally and threw us off with her beak. Too dazed by our outburst to do anything else, we hit the ground heavily on our side. All of the air in our lungs was lost, but we were pretty sure we weren't hurt that badly. The ground heaved again as the Moose collapsed, blood pumping from her neck wound.

We took a startled step back, blinking several times to clear it. Where did that feeling come from? And there was the Goose, still bleeding into the dirt... our claws shook slightly. Had we done that?

WX, however, didn't seem to be affected by it at all. The second the monster hit the ground, he was moving, his spear poised to strike. There was a sharp sense of guilt, almost enough to force us to call him off, but even if we were to do so, by the time we decided it, he was already sinking the sharp end into her long neck.

The sound erupting from the beast tore heartstrings as if she was truly in pure agony, but WX's grim expression stayed firm as he twisted the weapon, before yanking it out of the wound. Her body quivered as if trying to recover, but that didn't mean that it would help. There was too much blood- one of us, either WX or I, had punctured the artery that ran through her neck. She let out another soft honk, her eyes- were they always brown, or had we just never paid attention before?- drifting to the nest that she had fought so hard to protect. The egg had cracked at the top, but there was no way the moslings could survive without their mother for long.

We had won.

But it didn't feel like we did.

Had this enormous giant only been protecting its nest? Was there really no other reason for killing it, than for our own escape? What made our survival more important than this bird's?

Without a word, we inched closer to the Moose. Her breaths were short and shallow, but we knew there was no way she would get up again. This is wrong. She shouldn't be left to slowly die again. We raised our own weapon, our entire upper body shaking, and we thrust it into the spot right where her neck met her beak.

The beast sighed and disappeared into the ground. We didn't feel like puzzling over this fact, simply because there were other things on our mind. You're going soft, feeling pity for the things you're supposed to kill. What's next, crying over a rabbit? We got to one knee, closing our eyes and letting out a long sigh.

However, we were shaken back into the present world by the touch of a hand on our shoulder. We glanced up, meeting Wilson's worried gray gaze. "Are you okay? That was a pretty bad fall."

"HE HAS SURVIVED WORSE," WX mused, sounding to be the only of us that was not shaken. He simply bent down, touching one of the pools of blood and examining the red substance on his finger, before making his way closer to the egg. "HOW ARE WE TO GO ABOUT THIS?"

Wilson took a few steps forward as if planning to stand beside WX, but we stopped him, simply pointing at the widening cracks in the egg. "We're not done."

At first glance, the moslings looked kind of cute. The first one poked its head out of the very top, its entire body was covered in ruffled feathers, sticking out oddly like they had been rubbed furiously with a balloon. Their beaks were bluish in color, and their eyes were huge and innocent. The first one hopped out, making an odd caterwauling noise as if searching for its mother. It turned its head the other way to look at us from its other eye. In the corner of our eyes, we saw WX get once more into his battle stance, and Wilson's brow furrowed in concentration and worry. The mosling inched its way closer to us, still making that odd honking sound.

It must've taken a second to realize it, but it was finally beginning to realize that something was off- that something was missing.

And of course, it realized almost instantly that these strange intruders near its nest were the cause of this odd occurrence. It flung its wings out almost threateningly, its feathers bushing out until it appeared twice its size. The light of the now-setting sun caught on its yellow feathers, bathing them in a reddish color- like it's soaked in blood. Three more of its siblings tumbled out, and the egg shattered into pieces. Electricity fizzed in the air, so heavy that we could hear the static building in the world around us. Wilson's hair turned slightly more insane than usual, and we could feel our own fur bush out in response.

Then, without warning, without a cloud in the sky or a raindrop in the air, lightning cracked through the sky. WX turned his own gaze upwards, and we could see the faint glimmer of hunger glowing in his eyeless sockets, like a craving that needed satisfied. The wind whipped up around us, and all at once, as if on command, all four goslings lunged at us. Lightning struck again, hitting the ground just a couple feet away from us. We took a second to be glad that WX and Wilson would be too busy focusing on the fight to jest at our awkwardly standing fur. We were certain that we looked faintly similar to a deranged, lopsided catcoon. The first mosling landed on us- light and surprisingly soft to the touch despite the crackle of energy that fizzed between us, and its beak instantly clamped around our throat. We could feel the teeth lining the beak of the creature, hidden from sight, but harmful all the same.

Instincts kicked in the second we felt those teeth graze against the sensitive tendons in our throat, and we dropped into a roll. There were a muffled cracking noise and a squawk of protest. Snorting with satisfaction, our claws slid out and impaled the mosling's fragile body, earning a much louder screech of pain as they tore through its skin. Tearing the bird away from our throat we threw it to the ground. This time, the scent of blood and the feeling of ripping flesh startled us slightly, almost making us feel sick. We shook our head furiously, unable to drive the thoughts away, and pounced back onto the mosling we had thrown. Just as we were about to make a killing blow, something landed on our back. It wasn't heavy, but its talons were sharp enough to drive the breath from our lungs.

Lightning cracked again.

This time, however, it was accompanied by the mosling on our back being torn away with surprising strength. Still pinning our opponent into the ground, we looked up just in time to see the target of the lightning strike. WX wasted no time in stabbing the mosling from the head down, driving it straight into the ground beneath it, before raising his weapon and kicking it off. Whether or not it was dead yet, he raised one foot and stomped it into the ground with a sickening crack. The electricity that sparked in the air took a solid form on his frame, tiny bolts of lightning like static flashes jumped between his limbs as he raised his head once more, flipping his spear around and cracking the second mosling across the head.

Wilson didn't quite have his adversary under control. It was the biggest of the four, striking at him before dancing away in a mesmerizing pattern, like a ballad dancer getting all of its moves just right. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he swung out with his morning star, but the bird simply danced and dodged around the futile attacks to hit it. Growling deep in our throat, we wrapped our claws around the neck of the mosling, for just half a second feeling the fragility of the bones in its body, before snapping its neck with a quick flick of our wrist. We left this one to rot, barreling towards the beast that Wilson was fighting and hitting it from behind. Unlike the first we fought, this one was able to throw us off easily, but at least it threw off the careful and graceful movements it had been using to torment Wilson.

WX was at our side as well, reaching our aid in only two bounds, and ditching his spear in favor of brute strength. In almost perfect synchronization, Wilson swung his weapon in a wide arc, cracking the mosling in the side of the face; WX put all the power of his own strength plus the overcharge from the lightning strike behind a final blow, and our claws dug into creature's throat.

It didn't even have time to lash out. It was a quick, but certainly not bloodless, death.

We ripped our claws away, taking several stumbling steps back. We were panting again, shaking very slightly at the tips of our whiskers. Wilson and WX stepped away from the fallen mosling as well, the latter looking for all the world like he wanted to punch it again, just to be sure.

The sun had fallen by now, but the light of dusk was not totally gone just yet. Wilson walked numbly towards the destroyed nest, lifting up a sizable chunk of the egg that was about the size of our head. He turned back to us, seeming too out of breath to say anything, holding the eggshell out questioningly. His gaze swept over us, and he took an alarmed step back, fear flashing in his eyes before he shook it off.

He's afraid of us? How intriguing. I wonder why...

It wasn't until we turned away that we realized our claws were fully unsheathed, digging deeply into our own palm.