Hunt and be hunted ( II )
"Huh, this is going nowhere," Ossa thought internally as he lay on his back, covered in the blood of giant wasps.
" How are there so many " He turned his gaze to the countless wasps that littered the grassy ground. He looked up, countless more flying above him, smaller and darker than the rest.
He had been engaged with them for hours now, a one-sided battle, chipping down their numbers or so he thought.
The giant hive, the nest of the wasps, wasn't only tall but went further underground, housing thousands of wasps. The more he took down, the more came out. He had taken down about three hundred, the new batch above him slightly different from the rest.
Caught off guard, one of them slammed into him, finding himself in his current predicament.
"Mors, these look different, what are they?" He inquired, his gaze on the wasps flying haphazardly above him, seemingly unaware that the motionless skeleton was responsible for the deaths of their comrades.