The flames crackled high into the night sky.
Laughter echoed around the once-human camp as dozens of beasts chewed on roasted meat, guzzled fruit wine, and beat their claws on makeshift drums.
Garuum sat in the center of it all, one leg crossed over the other, a massive grin across his face as he ripped a chunk of cooked spirit deer from the bone with his teeth.
"This is the taste of victory," he growled out between bites.
Around him, the captains cheered.
He looked around proudly.
This was his victory.
This was his moment.
He had taken one of the humans' key resource sites without losing a single soldier.
All the younger beasts looked at him with admiration, copying his relaxed posture and drinking with wild smiles.
They truly believed they had won.
But that feeling didn't last.
It started small.
One beast near the edge of the firepit dropped his mug and blinked slowly.
"Hey… does the ground feel weird?" he asked, rubbing his temples.
