Its fur was matted and rough, while also having the strange sensation of being both hot and cold as he carried the beast while the old man walked alongside him, directing him on how to hold the body to ensure the least amount of spilt blood. His tone was cold and clearly distracted as he led them a fair distance away.
"Throw it there, on that rock. The Alpha of the area will come by later for it. Now let's go," he said plainly, ignoring the look Chris gave him. "Since it wasn't dragged, it means we won't need to worry about burying a long blood trail under sand this time. Always hated that when I had to drag bodies; glad I have a strong lad now to do it for me. Good practice for when you take my place." He tried to joke, but Chris was still a bit shaken, a word the old man said sticking in his mind. "The alpha?" he questioned with hints of fear bleeding through.
The question itself made the old man roll his eyes. "Rules of nature, lad—the big, bad creature claims a place, and everything in it knows not to mess with it since it's powerful. Even the mad wolves and crazy mutts give tribute to it from time to time so they can stay here. We're no different. It won't bother us, though. We just paid our rent," he continued, his tone a mix of mocking and self-deprecating, but Chris was too worried to care, still shaken from what had happened.
"You created a real mess, lad; now we need to clean it, starting with protecting your new 'kid.'" He said while jabbing him with his walking stick, causing him to look at the old man questioningly. "My kid?" he asked with clear confusion as they reached the village, making their way to the hut where the world tree was planted.
"You brought that thing into the world; it's smart enough to talk and can clearly feel, so it's your kid now and your responsibility." He said with clear amusement before his face hardened once more.
"You said cacti were spiky desert plants? How much do they spread?" he continued, clearly not bothering to talk more about the world tree and clearly not willing to talk further on the matter.
"I don't really know; the few I saw had a decent enough spread, I think?" Chris admitted, unsure.
"Then let's rather focus on a cloud tree first, then some spike bushes, as I know those best and can help with those. One will provide the water and the other spreads quite well. The cacti will be the last we test. The spikes from the bushes should be enough to deter most things, but we might need something extra should their hunger overwhelm them." The old man said in thought.
"Some strangle vines perhaps? Those should work if we can get them to creep across the hut, and prove to work quite well if we get them long and thick enough," the old man continued.
"I don't know what those are, though," Chris replied softly, only to earn a huff and blank stare. "The name should already be enough to understand; they're vines that creep across anything and constrict their prey. They're green, with small leaves layering their form, sometimes having flowers grow on them to hide thorns, but they rely mostly on strangling and crushing prey. Magic makes them move erratically, and sometimes they get called snake vines because of it. But if you can grow and control them? Well, they will be a fantastic defense."
"I'll try?" Chris said, still unsure but a bit less scared now. The prospect of more defenses, something far more active, was exactly what he needed to calm his nerves, only for the old man to snort and glare at him. "No, you won't try, lad; you will do!"
What followed were various attempts to grow the assortment of new plants, happily noting that the seeds didn't go bad or the soil get wasted when they failed.
It took a while before they eventually managed to create a cloud tree. The old man having long since grown frustrated at having to try and explain what it was to him. It ended up as something resembling an extremely tall palm tree in the middle of the village, and the old man couldn't help but comment on how it looked both shaggy, sad, and saggy. Chris told him his words hurt its feelings, only for him to wave dismissively and collect some of the water that began to rain from the sobbing tree.
"At least it knows how to do what it should. Help me bring the pot out," the old man said after tasting the water and nodding after finding it both cool, clean, and refreshing. His pragmatism from years of living out here wouldn't allow water to go to waste, even if the tree was a potential unlimited source.
What soon followed were the spike bushes that spread a short distance from the world tree's hut almost greedily before growing slightly larger, letting loose seeds that grew only slightly slower as they bristled in what he knew was joy from the excited hive mind voices he heard. The pair of seeds seemingly had formed a collective that blended into one another while forming thick brambles. Even the old man commented that they were bigger and nicer than others he had seen, which had them stand slightly straighter in what Chris knew was pride. He didn't say it out loud, but they just looked like spiky tumbleweeds to him.
A few had even moved themselves to the pair of cacti he had grown at the small hut's entrance not long after them and had begun to weave up them. The cacti proved the easiest and fastest to grow as he had a clear image in mind. He wasn't sure what to feel when he heard them quietly complimenting each other's spikes and comparing them; it was extremely weird, but he figured it was a spiky plant thing.
The strangling vine was where he ran into his first real problem. It wasn't a matter of growing them; he easily imagined it as an overly aggressive vine with thorns hidden in flowers that crept across buildings and stones like a weed. He tried to think of them as the vines and snakes he saw in movies.
The problem he encountered was that it was hungry. The old man failed to tell him about the natural thirst for blood that was only increased by the image he used to grow it. They were constantly asking him if they could consume the old man and were only calmed by the promise of fresher prey to come.
As if the gods heard his words and wanted to play a cruel joke, he heard the howl of a mad wolf cut through the air that chilled his blood. Their heads snapped to the distance where they easily noticed a pack of four running towards him. The old man screamed for him to get inside, but he was frozen in fear. The cloud tree called in his head, urging him to run, to get to safety, while the cacti and thorn bushes bristled, trying to reach and defend him.
The strangle vines flew past him, cutting the air with a sharp hiss just as one of the wolves set upon him, its mouth close enough for him to smell its rancid breath before it was ripped to the side and then towards the building, dragged through the spike bushes that ripped clumps of fur from it as they actively raised their bristles.
More vines soon followed, a similar fate befalling the other mad wolves. Their howls of pain rang out as they were dragged through the thorns towards the building. Those howls of pain soon turned into whimpers of agony as the sounds of bones breaking and a horrible series of wet crunches soon rang out, followed by an unsettling silence. The strangle vines thanked him repeatedly for the meal and promised to protect him and his sprout as long as he brought more food. Their tones oddly sensual and euphoric.
The last thing he remembered hearing was the spike bushes bristling as they shook themselves clean and the old man calling out to him as his body met the ground, his vision going dark and the voices of the plants becoming a distant echo.