I waited for nightfall, watching the shadows of the ants standing vigilant watch at the cave's entrance. The ants, it seemed, had a rotating guard, based on the movement that I could see. Because I was facing the cave's entrance (and only source of light), it wasn't until the shadows began to grow long and then disappeared entirely that my eyes truly adjusted to the darkness.

I wasn't sure if darkness gave me any advantages, but I knew that night was when rabbits came out to play, and any attempt to leave the cave with the ants still present was risky. If I was going to take the chance, I wanted to maximize the payoff for success, and the chance to hunt rabbits seemed like a good one, considering that rabbits were by far the most appealing prey that I had encountered so far. Not only was their flesh subjectively the most delicious, but they were rich with calories. I could kill a rabbit with a single claw strike if I managed to ambush, an appealing option considering how low I was running on stamina. And, of course, rabbits didn't fight back. The ratio of payoff to risk made stalking bunnies among the most profitable past-times I could engage in.

I moved toward the entrance so slowly that the ants seemed completely oblivious to my movement. I hadn't been intending for it to be a sneak attack, exactly, but the web clinging to my belly and appendages slowed my movement enough that "slow" was the only way out of the cave, and once I realized that slow movement would leave the ants undisturbed, I maintained that pace, even after pulling myself free from the last of the cobwebs. I could make out the shape of four ants silhouetted against the moonlight that beamed through the cave's entrance, and I struck at two of them, spearing both with the same double-claw approach I had perfected that day.

Fire ant defeated! Earned 3% experience toward next level. Fire ant defeated! Earned 3% experience toward next level.

The other two ants immediately skittered away, and I followed them out of the cave, following along more slowly as I needed to flatten myself and crawl with my belly scraping along the ground to clear the low entrance. By the time I emerged, the ants were gone. That was a good thing: I had waited for this moment in hopes of evading the scores of ants that had set upon me earlier in the day. I wasn't sure how long it would be until the two escaping ants rallied their friends to the cause of pursuing me, but I intended to make the most of this reprieve. First order of business: food in my belly. I was starting to grow dangerously hungry.

I headed toward the place I had previously encountered rabbits — perhaps it was time to start thinking of that as my "hunting grounds" — and found a small tuft of grass that seemed like an opportune place to lie in wait. I scanned the territory, looking for any sign of movement, and within a minute, spotted two rabbits, the nearest of which was perhaps 30 feet away. That was well outside my striking distance, even with an aggressive lunge, so I waited for it to get closer. I concentrated on its movements, as if being more attentive could somehow compel the rabbit to move in my direction, but the rabbit seemed completely unperturbed by my stare. That was, of course, a good thing — I wanted that rabbit to be oblivious to my presence up until the moment that I struck it dead — but it was a reminder of just how much of being an ambush predator involved lying in wait. It certainly wasn't the ideal method of hunting for someone who had lots of pent-up nervous energy, and at the moment, I had an absolute abundance of it. I had already spent most of the day waiting inside a cave.

For a moment, the rabbit seemed like it was about to start hopping in my direction, but then it stopped. Did it see me? For a moment, I had the impression that it was looking straight at me, but that wasn't exactly right: rabbits, being prey animals with a need for wide-reaching peripheral vision, had eyes on the sides of their head, which meant that if it was facing me directly, I might very well be within its blind spot. Then, it swiveled its head, and for a moment it seemed as though it was staring directly at me with one eye. I tensed up, making myself completely motionless, but the rabbit apparently didn't like what it saw, because it began hopping away in the opposite direction.

Was it actually making a retreat? Had it actually seen me, or was its movement completely random? As I debated whether to stay in place or find a new waiting spot, I felt a pincer-like grip on my tail, and I spun around to see dozens of fire ants.

I swiveled around, smacking my tail against the ground to knock the ant loose, and began fleeing. My moment of flailing had sent the one ant flying, and the ants behind it seemed to pause at the sight, which bought me precious moments to start running before they started gaining on me. Somehow, while playing ambush predator, I had been the one to get ambushed. As I ran, I remembered having a similar experience with hyenas the last time I had gone out to hunt rabbits after dark.

The ants were too numerous to fight, and this was about the worst time to fight them, as I was running low on health and stamina, and even apart from what my stat meters told me, I was growing tired. It was later than I was used to being awake, and I was tired. My alertness was clearly not at its best. Even the simple act of moving across the desert ground, carrying my weight without tripping, required effort. Still, once the ants started gaining on me, I found it in me to use the last point of SP to sprint away, staying just far ahead enough that I managed to make it back to the cave without another bite on my tail. I hoped that, once nestled safely in the cave again, I would at least find temporary reprieve, and an opportunity to sleep.

SP: 0/14

I entered the cave, arriving slightly before the horde of ants, and in the precious seconds before they descended upon me, I quickly devoured the two ants that I had killed on my way out of the cave, then as I waded through the cobwebs with some effort, I gobbled up the two ants that had gotten caught in the webs trying to pursue me. It was hardly a filling meal, but it would at least keep me from starving to death.

I situated myself in the mess of webs, facing the cave entrance so that I could see the ants as they came in and respond if they tried anything unexpected, but they didn't even bother following me past the cave entrance. I could still see the shadows of the movement outside, but they made no effort to enter my new home. That seemed as good a reason as any to finally lay my head down. There was nothing left for me to do but shut my eyes, and wait for tomorrow.

——

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

I was awakened by a pinch on my nose, feeling the sting of a bite right on the sensitive part near my nostril. I exhaled through my nostril, trying to blow whatever it was away, but even in my groggy state, I knew what was responsible. The fire ants wouldn't leave me alone. I opened my eyes, but the ant I had felt on my face was still there, and this time I blinked just in time to feel it attack my eyelid — a fraction of a second earlier, and it could have attacked my eye directly. I shook my head, but my movement was constrained by the sticky web — I had laid my head down on the floor of the cave, and the webs made every movement slow and difficult. Feeling yet another bite, this time on my ear, I began rolling, hoping the ant would let go, or at least get caught up in the web. A second later, the biting sensation ended.

HP: 8/27

I did my best to lift my head from the cobwebs. I struggled in helpless desperation — here I was, in the one place where I had thought I was safe from the fire ants, and somehow they had managed to pursue me. The webs that were supposed to protect me were now preventing me from even lifting my own head to see what was going on. I struggled and heaved and pushed myself off the floor with all my might until I could finally see what was going on. A foot away from me, I could see the ant that had attacked my face struggling, until it finally stopped moving.

One ant. I was now sitting at [8 HP], because of one measly fire ant. This was the second time in a row that the ants had interrupted my slumber. Would I ever have a chance to rest and recover my HP, my SP, and perhaps most importantly, my wits?

With my head finally free of the cobwebs, I could see what lay in front of me. The cave was still carpeted with cobwebs. But between me and the cave entrance, there was something on top of the webbing. It took a moment for me to realize what it was and why it looked so strange. There were slabs of rock, laid across the mess of cobwebs. While I was sleeping, the ants had somehow built a bridge, a path that allowed them to cross the sea of cobwebs without being ensnared, a bridge long enough that an ant — perhaps sent on a suicide mission — had managed to reach me and attack me.

I waited with grim anticipation, ready for the next ant to attempt to cross the rock bridge. I lifted one of my foreclaws, tearing it free from the cobwebs, and swinging with it, ready to strike any ant that stepped onto the stone in front of me. But no ant came.

I waited for several seconds. A minute. Several minutes. But no ant came.

Then, I saw movement near the cave entrance, illuminated in what little moonlight there was. Evidently, the ants were here. But, for whatever reason, they weren't striking.

Why had they bothered to create a bridge if they weren't going to pursue me? I absently bent my head down, snatching the sacrificial ant from where it lay and swallowing it, bumping my satiety up to 8%. Dangerously low. Luckily, my metabolism slowed when I was sleeping. I wouldn't starve to death during the night. And now more than ever, I desperately needed sleep. If my HP and SP had been low before, now I was completely tapped. If the ants were just going to abandon their bridge, I had no intention of leaving it standing.

I took each of the stepping stones that they had placed on top of the webbing, and flung it deep into the cave, far out of their reach. When I was done, I noticed that the stones formed a nice pile that seemed like a more comfortable perch than a bed of sticky webs, so I climbed onto the rock pile I had created, closed my eyes, and for the second time that night, allowed myself to drift off to sleep.

—-

I was awakened by a bite on my eyelid. A feeling of rage overwhelmed any sense of drowsiness I might have felt, and I swung my head. That apparently did nothing to get rid of the ant that was clinging to my face, so I placed my head in the cobwebs and rolled into the bed of cobwebs, ensuring that any ants that had been clinging to my body were now ensnared in the web.

Having freed myself, I took stock of the situation. Yet again, the ants had formed a rock bridge to reach me. And yet again, a single ant had ventured out on its own to attack me. The idea seemed ridiculous. I doubted very much that a single ant had built this bridge: for them to bring so many rocks here so quickly, it must have been a group effort, so why did only one ant attack me?

I found the ant that had been the latest to embark on a solo dragon slaying mission, and gobbled it up, bumping my satiety up to 6%. Disappointing that there was only one ant. I would have liked a larger meal.

I froze. I was now closer to starving than I had been the last time I was attacked. Maybe this was the plan. Send in ants to attack, one at a time while I slept, spending as few lives as possible with each sacrificial strike, and ensuring that I couldn't ever get a square meal out of their remains. But why pursue me? Why not wait outside for me to emerge the following morning? As soon as I asked myself that question, the answer hit me: if I got a full night's sleep, I would wake up with renewed health and stamina. But so far, I had yet to get anything close to a full night's sleep. Despite the briefest of respites, I had awoken with 0 SP. I knew from experience that less sleep resulted in less health and stamina recovery. Tonight, I might recover no HP or SP, if the ants kept their assault up like this. And what did it cost them? Nothing more than the effort of moving a few rocks, and the life of a single ant.

This was a war of attrition, and I was on the losing side of it. I was at the end of my rope. Leaving the cave wasn't an option — I would be outnumbered there, and without SP to use breath attacks, I lacked my best defensive (and offensive) tools.. And now, lying and waiting inside of this cave wasn't an option: these ants would sacrifice their own lives in an effort to bite me to death in my sleep before they allowed me to get a full night's rest. What other option did I have?

I turned around. This cave went deeper, and I had the distinct feeling that it belonged to a predator. A predator who surely outclassed me in experience and threat level. But what else could I do? Until now, I hadn't ventured very far past the cave's entrance, fearing what might lie deeper within. But right now, whatever lay within the cave at least might be less threatening than what awaited me outside of it.

Planting a claw in the cobwebs, I took a step forward. It was difficult, slow movement, as the webs grew thicker the deeper into the cave I went. My only hope was that this might be a tunnel, and with enough effort, I might see the light at the other end of it.

Class: Baby Dragon Level: 6 Progress toward next level: 96% HP: 8/27 SP: 0/14 Satiety: 6% Claws: level 1 Scales: level 2 Mouth: level 7 Wings: level 0 (wingless), max reached for current class Traits: Carnivore, Kin sensitive, Carrion feeder Abilities: Sprinting, Noxious Breath, Poison Breath, Harden scales