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The beast was smaller than Tess had imagined.
She cocked her head to the side as the quivering creature emerged fully out of the rocks. It revealed itself low to the ground, hunched on all fours with green and silver scales running along it's back and body. It's coat shone in the dying sun, and dirt muddied it's clawed feet as it stalked towards them.
However, none of these things were what made Tess' insides knot tightly beneath her ribs, suffocating her heart and insides as if it were being stuffed in a bag. What made Tess want to cower back was the gaping jaws that snapped in her direction. Razor sharp teeth lined the walls of pink that seamed the gaping pit of the animal's mouth. That horrible, high-pitched scream erupted from it's throat once more, and the noise sent shivers running down her spine. She gripped the seat she knelt behind firmly, knuckles turning white.
The spikes along the creature's back bristled, and the movement suddenly made Tess jerk forward, her hands finding the side of her head as a fresh memory decided to present itself. The images that burst through her skull brought unwanted emotions crawling along her bones.
Tess drowned in the memory, silently screaming for it to stop.
But it was too late.
Tess remembered how she'd seen one of those beasts before. It was a day, a night, and a life she had long since pushed away. She was eleven, a girl of fresh wounds, both in her head and upon her flesh, for the ache and pain of her chopped leg brought winces and spasms running across her body whenever she moved. The woman who had helped her take it off —a nurse from a long since abandoned hospital— had given her a serum to numb the pain while she worked, but it had quickly run out. They had worked in an abandoned alleyway, full of grime and must and the scent of death. It had been three days since the raid on Mos Eisley, and the Empire had left right after the firefight ended. Tess remembered watching their ships leaving the bay as she struggled down the sandy streets, mud coating her tongue as she would fall from her numb leg and have to pick herself back up again.
She found no logging that first night, and was forced to curl up on the street with the only the clothes on her back to keep her from death. Tess sometimes thought that it was that first frozen night which turned her so cold. It was the frost lining her nose and mouth in the morning, her tears frozen to her cheeks. That first night, she'd come to determine, the cold of the evening had frozen her heart.
