Thor

The evening sun hung low on the horizon, painting the field the color of old blood. The southern meadow was one of the few places where the grass still grew without the radioactive yellowness. Thor had been grazing here for three hours now. He heard the stalks crunch under his hooves, smelled the sweet scent of strawberries, and… someone else's fear .

He froze. He lowered his horned head and sniffed the air. The scent was human. A female. Young.

An old haystack, forgotten the previous fall, stood thirty paces away. Thor slowly turned his head. One set of human ears caught a whisper, the other, pointed like a bull's, registered a thin, intermittent sound. She tried to breathe more quietly, but her heart was pounding so loudly he could hear it through the air.

“Come out,” His voice rolled across the meadow like distant thunder.