Something caught his eye. He blinked, trying to figure out what he was seeing. It looked wet, so dark in the night that it might’ve been spilled ink. During the daytime, he’d been fooled by mirages that promised water only to curse the cloudless skies when he discovered his eyes had played tricks on his mind.

This, however, wasn’t that.

Still, he tempered his expectations as he accessed a deep reserve of energy to drag himself as upright as he could manage, only getting so far as to reach crawling position. Then, like a young child that hadn’t yet mastered the art of walking, he made for the dark patch on hands and knees.

When he reached it, he extended a trembling hand toward it, slowly, tremulously, until his fingers grazed its black surface. It moved, liquid ripples radiating outwards from the point of impact. “Oh gods,” he murmured, voice a croak. He dipped his lips to the water, lapping at it like a cat at its milk bowl. The water was overly warm, and yet tasted so sweet, as sweet as honey to his thirst-starved tongue.

He drank and drank and drank, until his stomach felt as full as a stuffed sack, bulging outwards. He groaned, feeling ill, and then turned to the side and vomited at least half of what he’d drunk back out. He felt better after that, and also deeply tired, so he sank back onto his side and promptly fell asleep.

He awoke to a guttural growl.

Eyes gleamed in the darkness, a trio of shining orbs all trained on where he lay on the ground beside the ink-black pool. The growl continued, low and menacing, the type of warning offered by a snarling wolf moments before it pounced on its prey.

Though this nightmarish creature was clearly no wolf.

His mind raced, ticking over the scant options available to him. In the gloom, he could make out a hulking shadow, but no other details about the threat he now faced. Scrambling to his feet and running felt like folly. Even if he made it to the next canyon, there were few places to hide. He could try to clamber up one of the cliff faces that flanked him on either side, hoping against hope that whatever strange, three-eyed creature this was couldn’t follow. But what if it could?

That left only one other option:

Fight.

Rather than shoving hastily to his feet, he made no quick movements as he eased himself slowly upright, feeling unsteady after all the water he’d guzzled and the long sleep that had followed. As he stood, the volume of the beast’s growl intensified, the continuous sound intermittently punctuated by ferocious barks.