In the forests, one thing you never do is stand still. You could be standing right on a fyree nest and not even know it. They feel the weight pushing down on the soil and the leaves and they strike.
I saw it happen once to this thing, I don’t know what they’re called; picture a cross between a turtle and some sort of ibex. We were perched on an outcropping of rock where we had camped, watching it from about a hundred feet away. Up came the tentacles and half its flesh was torn away in a second’s time.
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