The air was cool and damp, smelling of pine needles and wet earth. My brothers, Grak, Snag, and the quick-footed Runt, moved silently behind me, their faces smeared with the old markings – crude streaks of dried mud and charcoal around their eyes and across their cheeks, meant to make them fiercer, hide their fear from the forest spirits. It was the old way, a habit, nothing more. But I knew the real power now. The scent hit me first, a rich, earthy tang carried on the morning breeze. Boar. My nose, sharper than any goblin’s should be, knew it. Weeks ago, I’d have needed to track for hours, sniffing the ground, hoping for a fresh sign. Now, the scent was a beacon, clear as a shouted warning. The Protector on my shoulder, my sleek, dark Stone-Hide I called 'Shadow-Friend,' twitched faintly, a subtle vibration that hummed through my bones. It was there, giving me this new sense, this impossible sharpness.

  My brothers behind me also carried their own Protectors, either a shoulder-perched Moss-Shell or a cluster of stick-tight eggs, worn like new war paint on their forearms. We moved fast. My legs didn't burn, didn't ache. This was the 'long-run' feeling, another gift from The Protectors. My heart pounded with the thrill of the hunt, not the drag of exhaustion.

  "Here," I grunted to Grak, pointing to a thicket where the boar had rooted. He nodded, his eyes wide with that same awe I felt. He felt it too, the sudden surge of strength, the sharp senses that made him a better hunter than he'd ever been. We moved in, silent as falling leaves.

  The boar burst from the thicket, a shaggy, enraged beast, its tusks yellowed with age. It snorted, eyeing us, ready to charge. We were small, but we were ready. My spear flew true, guided by an impossible precision, a sudden clarity in my mind that made the target stand out. Another struck its flank, and then Runt and Snag were in, agile as squirrels, nipping at its legs, drawing its fury. Shadow-Friend pulsed on my shoulder, a surge of fierce focus, making the world narrow to just the boar, its movements, its weaknesses.

  It was a hard fight, the boar furious, but we were relentless, empowered by the unseen hand of The Protectors. It fell, finally, with a ragged squeal, its black hide steaming in the cool air. We cheered, a guttural chorus of triumph, our spears planted around its fallen form. Food. So much food. The feast for the tribe was already planned in my head.

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  That's when the earth trembled.

  Not a little tremor, like a squirrel burrowing. A heavy, thudding vibration that shook the ground beneath our feet. The forest went silent, even the insects pausing their hum. A shadow fell over us, immense and chilling. I turned, my breath catching in my throat.

  It was a Dire Bear. Larger than any goblin, taller than two, its shaggy fur matted with forest debris, its claws like digging spades. It sniffed the air, its gaze fixing on the scent of fresh blood, on our kill. Its growl rumbled through the clearing, vibrating my very bones. Fear, raw and absolute, seized my gut, replacing the triumph of the hunt. This was no boar. This was a monster.

  Shadow-Friend pulsed wildly on my shoulder, a vibration that grew from a hum to an insistent thrum. And then, a thought, clear as a shout in my mind, but not my own. THROW. RUN.

  My hand, without thinking, snatched Shadow-Friend from my shoulder. The Protector was light, but solid, its little legs scrabbling against my palm. I barely hesitated. The bear was closing fast, its massive head swinging. "THROW!" I shrieked to Grak and the others, my voice cracking, even as I wound up and hurled Shadow-Friend with all my might.

  My comrades, seeing my frantic action, seeing the charging bear, felt the same sudden, powerful impulse. Their own shouldered Protectors flew through the air, dark projectiles against the bear's monstrous bulk. Shadow-Friend hit the bear's shoulder with a sickening thud. Instead of falling, it curled into a tight, dark ball, then snapped open with terrifying speed. Its mandibles, tiny but sharp, clamped onto the bear's matted fur, digging in. Another Stone-Hide hit its flank, latching on, then another onto its leg. The giant beast roared, a sound of pure pain and rage, swiping frantically with a massive paw at the irritating, biting things now clinging to its hide.

  "RUN!" I screamed again, already sprinting, my limbs pumping, an impossible burst of endurance still burning through me, even without Shadow-Friend on my shoulder. The eggs strapped to my forearm buzzed, a low vibration, keeping the power flowing. We didn't look back. The sounds of the bear's furious roars, mixed with the strange clicking and scraping of the Protectors biting and burrowing, echoed behind us, growing fainter as we fled.

  We ran until our lungs burned, until our legs threatened to give out, driven by the lingering fear and the impossible gift of The Protectors. We didn't stop until the sounds of the struggle were lost entirely to the forest. I leaned against a tree, gasping, but my legs didn't fail. The eggs on my arm still thrummed with a subtle power. The Protectors had not just given me strength; they had given commands. They had sacrificed themselves, become living projectiles, to save us. My awe, already vast, deepened further, tinged now with a complex mix of confusion and absolute, unwavering trust. What were these things? And how much more could they do?