It burned.
Shakti hadn't expected the egg to burn like this. The pain seeping in from the bite earlier paled in comparison to how the egg felt as it traveled down its throat. Yet it was worth it to the trog– at last the wyvern was paying attention to Shakti.
The winged beast started to smash its wings against the tree and continued its pursuit of the egg even though it was now inside of Shakti. Wood snapped as the tree roots finally gave way to the pressure of the beast. Within seconds Shakti could sense the fear growing again within the human.
Chunks of earth dropped from the roots, one of them hitting Cuthbert directly over his head and knocking him to the ground. Shakti was hoping that was enough to kill him yet Shakti could feel an urge to protect him from the debri.
'What a pathetic thing this human is. Did it really want to return the egg without asserting its dominance over the beast? Is it that weak?' This man was the type of trog Shakti would kill for being useless to it's horde, yet here it was finding ways to make sure he didn't die but at the same time hoping that he would do just that.
"Run"
It was the only thing Shakti could think of that would fulfill both its urge to protect and get rid of the human at the same time before the wyvern broke through the roots. Cuthbert scrambled backward, desperate to put distance between himself and the wyvern. The beast twisted and forced itself forward, its massive body still too large to fit. Shakti stood in place with eager anticipation all the while sensing the fear emanating behind it.
The roots behind them were uncovered enough to squeeze out onto the other side. Cuthbert was the reason Shakti noticed it in the first place through their bond and Shakti wasn't going to wait for Cuthbert to decide what to do with that information.
When the wyvern struggled to force its wing past an overhanging root, Shakti saw its opportunity to satiate its desire to fight. With the satchel still in its claws, it ran up to the wyvern again and ducked underneath the wyvern as soon as it lunged to bite. Shakti again fell prey to the grip of the wyverns' powerful jaws which managed to grab hold of the pile of mud caked onto the back of the trog. Although the fangs punctured the mud it didn't manage to reach its skin. The wyvern lifted the trog and struggled to close its jaws onto flesh. The muddy layer held strong and Shakti wasn't going to wait to see for how long. The trog quickly tossed the pouch over the wyverns neck and looped it into itself. Shakti tightened it as much as it could before the wyvern began to whip its neck to remove the wedged trog from its jaws. Each thrash sent the satchel sliding further down the wyvern's neck.
Shakti felt the beast's fangs loosen from its back. It clung to the satchel, refusing to let go. The wyverns attempts to dislodge Shakti launched the trog with tremendous force to its right but it also pulled its own neck with the makeshift noose around its neck. The satchel slid down the wyverns smooth neck all the way down to the base. Shakti used the momentum to stabilize itself by lodging the spear head on the back of the wyvern.
The wyvern screeched in agony as Shakti worked its way up the long neck each, stab like a footprint left behind. The head of the great beast collapsed, under the weight of the trog climbing further up. Shakti leaped off before the wyvern hit the floor.
The wyvern lay there choking on its own blood. Glaring up at the trog it continued to push forward with its massive body, determined to reach its egg. Its neck just dragged on the floor leaving pools of blood as it seeped out of the multiple gashes lining its neck. At no point did the beast take its eyes off the trog.
Shakti watched in amusement, its arrogance visible through its toothy grin. The beast was by far the largest thing it's ever fought yet it never doubted the outcome of the fight. Shakti walked up towards the disabled beast and noticed the subtle change in demeanor. The wyvern's breathing grew frantic. For the first time, it shrank back as the trog stepped closer
Shakti's grin grew at the thought of the beast finally acknowledging its strength. Learning it must be feared.
Unfortunately it was a bit too late for the wyvern to learn this. With a quick swing of its arm, Shakti plunged the spear head straight through the great beast's skull. The wyvern's body convulsed once. Its talons twitched, scraping weakly at the dirt. Its wings flared slightly, then sagged. Even as its life drained away, its eyes stayed locked onto Shakti—unblinking, unwavering, filled with something too deep to be just rage in those pools of red. And then, finally, it was still.
This was what Shakti was accustomed to, being feared. Being feared by its followers, trogs, humans, it even fancied being feared by the flock of harpies it constantly hunted. This was the world Shakti knew, not one in which it must bend to the emotions of some inferior entity.
It all but felt the joy of its victory melt at the reminder of Cuthbert. Shakti turned to look at where it left the dead weight to find he wasn't there anymore. It could sense the fear emanating from him as he ran away from this whole ordeal. Shakti begrudgingly walked past the dead wyvern and into the sunlight, towards Cuthbert.
'That coward. Is he always frightened?' Shakti felt no urgency to find him but couldn't stop itself from being pulled towards him. All Shakti could do was humor the idea of walking the other direction or killing him as soon as it found him but it knew that was as far as those thoughts would go. Shakti could still make out the heat signature of Cuthbert from where it was.
A searing heat began to claw through its throat, spreading through its chest like molten fire. It felt its heart pounding harder, faster—too fast. Shakti chalked it up to indigestion from its most recent meal and set out to find its master.
As Shakti walked further out the ground became muddy and Shakti found its legs halfway submerged in water fairly quickly. Stubbornly Shakti continued its route. Above them, the sky was empty—almost too empty. No birds, no sound. Just an eerie stillness.
Something the trog didn't notice as it basked in its post-battle glory.
'Shakti best! No creature– no land could best Shak–' A wyvern quietly swoops down and submerges Shakti in the muddy water.