George collected fire wood, attempted to light a fire and build a camp and tended to his wounds. Every now and then he would hear the sound of the trees or russling of someone, something behind him. He lived in a struggle to survive laced with paranoidace and topped with extream pain. This is one adventure that he wanted to end. Then he heard the famillier sound of bushes being moved aside and twigs snapping.
"Hello?" George said in a loud but shaky voice.
"Any body the...." George shouted as he was cut off by a giant scorpion. The scorpion had armour as thick as leather, pincers as sharp as knives, eyes that never moved put seemed to look into your soul. Then there was the sting a string of brwn beads lead to a red pointed one. The sting had green and purple acid frothng and dropping to the ground like honey from a jar. The scorpion was exceadlingly heavy crushing his ribs then it beat George arcoss the face with its left pincer, as it retreated it pincer it reavlied a cut along the boys neck all the way to his forehead with blood clots unable to form. Suddenly the scorpion raised its tail and flicked some acidic gloop at Georges ear. The pain was excrutiating, his ear bubbled and face blead. Then the trees wispered
"Let him goooo..." Then the giant scorpion started to leave when George threw a stone at the monster. The monster stoped and without looking back wipped George across the face with the acid encrsted whip like tail. George fell back, clutching his face and writhing on the floor in his camp, in the clearing.....
To be continued...