Barely daring to breathe, Fenn withdrew his hand back into slimy safety.

The first instinct that came to mind was running — to flee whatever it was that lumbered its way toward him, to escape the wretched confines of his cocoon. But no, that wasn’t viable. When he tried to move his legs as he had before, he only got a tingle of numbness and the faintest twitching sensation. He was stuck where he lay for now. Letting out a deep breath, the boy pondered whether or not the cocoon was an acceptable hiding place. Judging by the growing intensity of the unknown creature’s gait, it was not. When a sneeze welled up in his chest — from the dust he’d stirred with his hand — he stifled it. Briefly.

-choo!

His hazy vision caught a sweep of black fur and a flash of burning red just outside. The crimson tang of iron-tainted blood cut through the souring seepage of the threads bound around him, striking fear into his small, sluggishly-restarting heart.

An open muzzle, huffing hot air and dripping pinkish drool, asserted itself into the gap in his cocoon.

Fenn balked from the yellowed teeth that swam before him. A little frightened part of him reminded himself of the frozen thing he could do. There was an ethereal tickling in his hand. Instinctively, he pressed his palm to the nose of the intruding predator. White ice spread from his touch, abrupt and sharp, hissing cold fog against the tepid air.

Howling rocked the room as Fenn jerked his hand back. The owner of the muzzle yanked itself out of the cocoon’s hole, smacking Fenn upside the head in its haste. Yelping, the creature retreated back into the dimness. The boy’s heart pounded as he heard it gallop off. Soon, its thudding clitter-clatter echoed off into nothingness; the boy didn’t particularly celebrate ots departure, however. It was a little hard to react at all, actually. His head rung with hollow confusion. He panted, feeling strains of frost run up his arms and cheeks, only to fizzle out into a thin dew. This… contextless confrontation... had left him exhausted. Merely peering out of the cocoon had left him short of breath and weak. And accidentally expressing this strange magic of his — kicking it back into wakefulness — had been even harder on him. Resigned, the boy lay quietly and let rest take him again.