swamp monsters

The sound wasn't new but it had been increasing in frequency enough that it had the leader concerned. The machine gun clacking, prehistoric growls that froze her marrow... It wasn't like the crocodiles that sometimes wandered into the estuary, it was something else.

With the weather warming, birds were coming back to the wetlands, the cacophony of quacking ducks and geese, the trumpeting of swans, they didn't seem shaken by the noises like she was. Picking her path carefully, an ear turned to a rustling to her right. When she stopped, it did too, but she couldn't see anything obvious. She began to walk again and the rustling increased, it was then she caught a pebbled, banded flank, long flicking tongue scenting the air... and then it pivoted and disappeared from sight. The next thing she heard was the sound of shattering eggshells.

"speech"