With the pests repelled, the group was once again freed to traverse the Hanging Jungle. Slowly but surely, they seemed to be approaching a milestone in their journey, with the surrounding environment changing to reflect this. 

The first change was not so obvious. Rather, it was something the dog noticed as he realized he could see things further ahead, and the fact that the path slowly grew more accommodating of his large frame. The cables around them were thinning. 

The second change was the appearance of a different kind of webbing, rapidly taking the place of the wires he had become accustomed to as they progressed. Unlike the almost metallic strands the group had used up until that point, there was something unmistakably alive about this new terrain, in a manner that reminded him of a tree’s roots. There was a sudden certainty in his mind that they would not find any spiders here. This shift in terrain marked the territory of a different kind of predator.

Even as their guide moved forward, seemingly unconcerned by the change, Fenn’s pace slowed momentarily, taking the time to test their new handhold’s strength. He quickly gained confidence as the webbing effortlessly held his weight. The occasional platforms entrapped by the roots, likely the remnants of stalactites eroded by time or the growth of the vines around them, were a welcome respite from the previous complete lack of solid footing.

Soon enough, however, they came within sight of a new obstacle.

Fenn pulled himself up to one to a platform large enough for him to stand with, following after the Imp. As she stood, facing forwards towards their destination, the dog took the chance to shake off some of the muck that still covered him from the fight against the spiders. Little came off. The guts and goop had long since dried, leaving him caked in foul smelling mud. He ignored the self-satisfied smirk his charge tried and failed to hide as she stood besides him, instead choosing to focus on the obstacle before them.

It seemed to be little more than a humongous rock on first inspection, but some of its features struck doubt in Fenn’s mind. Its shape was odd in and of itself. Spherical, unlike the trapped platforms they had climbed so far, and rather than being entangled within the vines, the odd webbing seemed to be flowing out of openings within it. There was a certain sense to it, he decided. If the vines were to be roots, this odd rock formation could be the tree.

The dog grunted. “It seems we must go around.” 

“Or through,” Lily added. “Although that might take a lot of time.” She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, inspecting the thing from afar. “Something is off about it.” 

As if on cue, the Watcher’s laughter rang out from nearby. Something that escaped Fenn’s attention must have caught the specter’s own, for his words carried a knowing tone to them as he addressed his escorts. And then, no sooner had it finished speaking, the thing within the rock shell awoke.

Clarity drew a single bark of laughter from the hound’s throat as the giant eye fixed on them. Just this once he would share in the Watcher’s twisted humor. 

He had been wrong on two accounts. Not a tree and its roots, but a heart and its vessels, nor the territory of a new predator, but a new beast in and of itself. If that was true, they seemed to have wandered deep into a monster’s innards without a care in the world. Idly, he began to wonder how this monster fed, and if there were other, smaller creatures such as this hidden among the platforms they had climbed on their way there. He quickly stopped himself. He did not know, as was ever the problem. Speculation was not something he had time to indulge in.

What was more surprising, perhaps, was that his train of thought had not been interrupted this time.

“Still here, Imp?” he asked through bared fangs. “To where did your eagerness vanish?”

She looked up at him sideways, still keeping an eye on the, well, eye. “I am not suicidal enough to simply go up against something I have only seen a fraction of. I know nothing of this beast aside from its one eye. Better be watchful this time, and observe before we advance.”

Alas, his charge was not completely devoid of sense. A true shame.

Keeping eyes and ears on the vines around them, with a newfound appreciation of the danger they might be in, he glanced at the armor off the corner of his eye. “Well, guide? What have you led us to?”