Ralph and the Pixie

The moonless night was so dark that, lest someone wander off and become lost, a large bonfire fuelled by piled scrub was set in the center of the encampment. For those used to being within the comfortable safety of their homes, it was an uncanny feeling, being in an open space, and utterly blind.

In the dead of night, Pran returned to the tent to awaken Ralph, so that he could begin his turn at the watch. Putting a finger to his lips, Pran led him out to the perimeter, and pointed out into the darkness. Glittering coldly, tiny pairs of yellow flecks were about the camp, a fair distance away. Ralph did not need to ask what the flecks were; they were distinctly and unmistakeably the eyes of some night creatures illuminated by the firelight.

‘We do not know what they are,’ whispered Pran, ‘but they have been there for some hours now. So far they have kept their distance. I will get my bedding and sleep here, I think. I suggest that you keep your sword ready at hand.’

One by one, as the first light of dawn approached, the pairs of eyes vanished with the night. When it became light enough, Birin sent a few scouts out to investigate. The news when they returned was unsettling.