As I earn more experience, whispering to the leaves becomes easier.

It means I spend less energy. Gain more from my food.

That is good.

Already my siblings have begun to outgrow me.

Not profusely. But the whisper makes it hard to miss.

I will have to work to close that gap.

Liquify, and my meal becomes goop on its own.

Liquify. Liquify. Liquify.

The pool becomes slightly bigger. And deeper.

I dig in.

In my dreams, I’m in an ocean.

The waves crash harshly against the white beach. I smell salt and sunscreen in the air. My feet squish wet sand and I raise a hand to cover my eyes from the sun. There is a tree growing on the edge of the water. I walk closer and the distance narrows impossibly fast. I stand at its feet and hear the leaves trying to whisper something. I try to touch the trunk and…

Someone tugs at my sleeve. I look down and see fistfuls of shells glittering with mesmerizing colors. I take one and hold it closer to my face. There is something strange about its shape. With a shrug, I let it fall to the ground. It flies back and forth in the air before posing slowly on a passing ant. I watch as it goes to its hill a few meters away. When I peek through the top hole I see…

Rain patters against my head. I take shelter in a nearby cabin. While I wait water begins to seep through the ground. Soon the room is flooded and I’m drowning. I see a bright light on the surface. When I swim out of the deep I find a boat. After I climb it, I start to check the horizon and see an island in the distance. I reach the white beach and I...

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My insides have started to adapt to the strange meals.

I can eat more and it seems I’m getting more nutrients from it.

It’s not enough to compensate for the last few days. But in the long term I should be fine.

The whisper sounds eager. Insistent.

Having survived this far by its grace, I listen.

It guides me through branches thicker than I’m used to. Further away from my siblings than I’ve ever been.

It is when I near one of the leaves that I realize.

We have been paddling in the kiddy pool.

The plants here feel different. Bigger.

I try to take a bite and I don’t manage to make even a dent.

Tougher too.

The whisper chatters loudly and the idea slowly starts to take shape in my head.

Liquify, I whisper with a growing sense of expectation.

The leaf melts into a thick syrupy puddle.

I devour it.

Victory.

Whispering to these leaves is harder, but the result is worthwhile.

They’re nutritious. Richer.

My growth returns to normal and, though I don’t have my siblings close by to compare to anymore, I assume that it soon surpasses theirs.

Days pass. Dark then bright.

My skin starts to feel tight.

I consider what might be useful now.

A proboscis. To simplify feeding.

Light changes to my digestive system. To specialize in liquid.

Taste buds and an immune system boost. Now that I can’t rely on my siblings, I need other ways to make sure my food is safe.

Anything else will have to wait.

I sleep and listen to the whisper.

Follow its directions.

Find the adequate words to shape my body.

In the distance, my siblings eat.

And I slumber.