“Why aren’t you running?”
The little girl held mute ground.
“How old are you?”
Her fingers showed six.
“You need to run.”
She didn’t move.
Yanux stood on his hind legs, brandished open hands with sparkling silver claws, forced his wild wooded hair outwards, and roared. The child’s right foot faltered one step back. He fell to all fours and rolled his eyes; by now most of the village was safely indoors.
A soft hand touched his callused forehead between the two twisted horns. The monster sighed, turned for home.
She’d be thirteen soon enough, and then he’d eat her.
Author’s Note: Without rules a monster couldn’t hope to be sustainable, less he destroys all his would be victims in a single night.