To whom the rusty bell roars

I burst out of the hollow cedar stump and charged straight toward the shadows beneath the terrace stairs. Dangling from a low splintered beam hung a small, rusted metal cowbell tied with weathered cord, silent and waiting. I didn't slow my stride. Dropping my stance low, I drove my left spiked mace-arm straight into its rusted iron flank! Clang-tonk! A sharp, echoing metallic ring vibrated clean through my arm joints, scattering dust from the overhead steps. I planted both feet firmly into the dry dirt, letting out a rattling, guttural roar as the bell swung wildly back and forth. #Tyrant

1 Nauk