She pass down the corridor and, after a moment’s hesitation, steps through the empty doorframe. She has to suppress a giggle at the sight that meets her. A giant lazygait, as high as she’s tall and easily ten feet long, slowly rips moss off the walls with its tendrils and push it up its hollow snout. It doesn’t seem to care about her or the light she brings. She stands there for a while, just looking at the creature and she can’t help laughing. Ever since she first saw one, lazygaits has been the funniest animal to her. The way their papery skin doesn’t seem to fit them, the way they move their eight legs and that empty look on their faces. Like two bears trying to disguise themselves as one pig and failing miserably.
“I didn’t know lazygaits lived in the Burrow. I thought you liked open fields.” The lazygait continue to ignore her, only interested in the moss. “And I didn’t know you grew this big.” She picks up a chunk of moss big enough to fill both her hands but probably just a crumb to the hungry creature. It feels soft against her skin and drips gently. She sniffs it. It smells like wet dirt and freshly torn vegetation. She considers tasting it but decides against it. “Probably not as tasty for me.” She looks up at the lazygait. It looks back at her. It moves its tendrils in her direction and wave them softly in the air.
“You like some food?” She takes a step forward and holds out the piece of moss. It halts its step midair for a moment before it head toward her. Its tendrils play in the air, tasting it to get to know the stranger and the offering. She steps closer, slowly not to scare the gentle giant. Its cold breath touch her fingers as the tendrils lift the moss from her hands. A few tendrils linger as the others shove the moss crumb into the creature’s face.
“So now. You can let go. I’m no moss.” The tendrils wraps around her hand. The snout foulds outward to expose some kind of skull-like beak. It snaps in anticipation, pulling her in. She pulls away, leaving behind some skin. “I’m not food. Stay away!” It comes at her, stamping its feet and shaking its body. With each stomp its razor sharp claws sends shards of stone flying. Suddenly it’s no longer slow and mindless. It charge toward her.
She jump aside to avoid getting rammed. When she get to her feet the lazygait stand between her and the tunnel she came from. It stamps its feet again, preparing for another charge. She grabs her spear but compared to the lazygait it looks like a twig. She feels the wall behind her. Wait. She feels around. That’s not stone. Her hand grabs the handle of the door and tugs at it. The door opens inward. She throws herself into the next room and shuts the door behind her. There’s a click as the door locks itself. A moment later there’s a loud bang and the door, actually a pair of double doors, shakes as the lazygait rams them. It pounds the doors but aside from the dent from the initial ramming they hold.