A snake slithered into a clearing and glanced around, looking for prey while tasting the air. It worried not for predators as colorful stripes along its body warned about the potent venom in their fangs. Nothing but the most vicious of animals or dumbest would dare attack it and those that did would regret it. There was a scab halfway down its body from a battle a week or so ago where it fought with such an animal. It had just recently finished digesting that animal and was close to healing from the wound dealt to it completely.
As there was nothing of interest in the area, it continued on, traveling in an S-shape. Its body twisted back and forth as powerful muscles expanded and contracted, pushing it forward at a surprising speed for something with no legs. A day went by without it finding any food, everything in the area recognized what it was and gave it a wide girth and the snake itself traveled in full view, showing itself off rather than trying to hide. As it traveled more and more, its skin began to sag and flake, with pieces breaking off here and there.
Molting, it was shedding its own skin in its entirety to reveal a new set of scales underneath. It was constantly growing while its scales weren't so flexible, creating the need to grow a new set underneath and cast off the old from time to time. Many snakes would choose to do this in a hiding spot, but this one simply found a rock jutting out of the ground and rubbed up against it, breaking apart the old scales and giving it more room to wiggle out. Even then it still took hours of scraping and moving to get it all off. Some pieces never came off and the snake went along its way as the final few pieces would fall off on their own.
The place where the scab had been disappeared with the latest molt. With every molt since that fight, the snake healed from the wound and the scars from that time would be cast off with the old skin. Now the snake was in tip-top shape, fully healthy and without a blemish to its name. All it needed now was some food to sate its appetite and allow it to live on a few more weeks until the next meal was necessary.
Temperatures plummeted on the forest floor as the sun started to set. The snake's movements began to slow down with the drop and its focus switched from food to finding shelter, preferably somewhere warm. A perfect location was nearby. The snake could taste in the air a bunch of warm bodies to intermingle with. Even though they were of a different species, nothing would dare oppose the snake if it so chose to nest alongside them for warmth.
A cave had risen from the ground with a tree growing on top of it. Long roots hung in the air as if the tree had been ripped out of the ground. These roots still dug into the ground below and the tree lived on despite this inconvenience. From there, the snake could see a group of creatures huddling up and generating plenty of warmth. Those creatures were cold blooded like the snake and couldn't regulate their own temperatures, but in such numbers so close together, they still managed to generate plenty of warmth. Before it could reach that pile of warm bodies, a cold, scaly hand pressed down on its head.
Its body coiled around the arm of the creature that dared to attack it, squeezing down viciously and trying to strangle all of the life from it. When that failed, it tried to dislocate its jaw to pierce the hand on its head with one of its fangs. The hand foresaw this and lifted up before forming a fist and smashing down as soon as the snake put its jaw back and tried to retreat. Its head was flattened while its fangs jutted out from the sides uselessly. Despite the death of the snake's head, the rest of the body flopped around, trying to accomplish something post-mortem.
A claw circled around its body just below the neck before cutting downwards. With a quick tug, the snake was skinned, revealing red flesh. A second tug on the head removed it and brought along all of its organs including a conspicious venom sack, leaving behind one long strip of bone and edible flesh. This was tossed into a mouth which crushed the bones and tore into the meat. Several times the meat was pulled out before being put back in at a different angle until it was chewed up enough to be swallowed. Drool flowed freely from this mouth. The Lizard Kin who owned this mouth wiped away some of the drool before walking out to greet another lizard kin who had just arrived.
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(Switch to First Person POV)
After testing the weapon out a few more times, creating more holes in the ground, trees, and even rock, I returned to the home of my fellow Scaled Ones. One of them that I considered to be my friend, Forjaw, came out to greet me. The way I distinguished them from the other Scaled was that their low jaw jut a bit more forward than usual, making their voice deeper. They also had occasional issues eating as their teeth didn't always line up properly.
"Strangescale, did you bring anything back to eat? I taste the scent of Softfleshes on you," said Forjaw as their tongue flickered out and tasted the blood of my enemies off my scales. I quickly shoved them away out of disgust.
Strangescale was my name. At first, it alluded to a scale that grew in funny as I was a hatchling. Such a name should have been changed as soon as I molted and lost the scale, but I had no other features to distinguish myself from the others and my supposedly odd behavior made the name stick. While I am strange in the sense of being different from the others, but I had the belief that I was simply being practical while the others were the strange and rigid ones.
"Forjaw, they are to be called Green Scaleless, not Softfleshes. We must keep our naming conventions consistent or we'll risk language issues when our kin grow in numbers. First it'll just be a few hatchlings copying your names, then a whole section of our tribe, and then full on conflicts as our understanding of each other wanes," I said to them, attempting to correct their faulty nickname for the scaleless.
"I"m sorry but it's so much easier to remember things with my mouth than my eyes. Besides, aren't you being a bit too dramatic. Our tribe is all Hatch-Borns, not those inferior Ground-Borns that get into squabbles with their own kin. Now about the prey you hunted down, any meat left?" asked Forjaw.
"No meat. I only ate the good parts and left the rest behind. Green Scaleless don't suit my palate. All I brought back is good news. Smalltail was killed by an ambush of Green Scaleless but I have avenged them and destroyed one of their nests that sprouted in our territory. I also have new and better weapons now, including this," I said as I passed over one of the shine rock daggers to Forjaw.
"A good weapon. I always prefered these sorts of things over slings. Could never get the rocks to throw out in the right direction. But isn't this a weapon of the other Softfleshes?" asked Forjaw as they tilted the blade back and forth.
"You can't call them both the same term. That's even worse than using Softfleshes. They're Non-Green Scaleless and unfortunately they may come to the forest to fight due to some Ground-Born Greens attacking one of their wooden beasts. If we spot any we should shrink our territory a bit and go hungry for a few days in the hopes they'll run off to kill the Furred Ones or Green Scaleless. And one more thing, I managed to get my hands on this," I said while pulling out the shine rock weapon and firing a shot at a nearby tree.
Forjaw went over to the tree and inspected the hole before saying, "That weapon is nice, but not as good as food. Let's go hunting together tomorrow. You always have better luck than me. All I could eat today was some stupid Colorful Legless Tenderflesh."
"The Colorful Legless are the ones that'll kill you if you get bitten. Careful with those as while there's herbs that can treat it, it still hurts a lot and we don't have much of those. You know what, even though the sole reason I get more prey is due to you not using your sling, I'm fine with hunting with you tomorrow. I wish to demonstrate to all of our kin the amazingness of this new weapon and the practicality of the Non-Green Scaleless clothes, starting with you I guess," I said while walking into the den and digging around my stuff for my spare set of clothes and sewing kit.
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"Doubt any of us will take to it as much as you, but I'll pretend as long as my stomach is full. Also, can't we just call them Tall Softfleshes instead of Non-Green Scaleless. Much easier to remember," said Forjaw as they laid down near the others who had already turned in. Night was coming and they intended to sleep soon.
"Actually a decent idea. Tall Scaleless shall be their name from now on, pass that on to the others when you wake up. I'll need to stay up a bit late to fix a broken sling. Also let them know Smalltail died as well. It's sorta assumed they're dead if they don't come back, but some solid confirmation is always nice to crush ill-gotten hope," I said as I glanced at the broken sling's pouch with a needle in my mouth. It was going to be a long night.
Forjaw never responded to me, probably already asleep by that time or too tired to respond. I could always push off fixing the sling with the excuse that I had a spare or the new weapon, but the new weapon wasn't reliable, wasn't fully tested while I wasn't used to the second sling. I tossed the second sling that had belonged to Smalltail to a corner of the den with other slings and various clubs and bone daggers sat. It was a 'general' area where lizard kin could leave and take things from freely. My experience of having to get used to a new sling was something most of my kin dealt with on a daily basis.
Only I had the know how to realize if I always used the same one, I could increase my accuracy and spend less time aiming. On the other hand, a lot of my kin could get used to unfamiliar slings quite fast, if not as good as me with my personal one. So there were upsides and downsides to my strategy. The clear winner was me still as I could repair my personal one if overused like this and I always ate well and sometimes even brought back extra food for the rest. Yet they stubbornly stuck to their own ways. They were like Ground-borns to the superior Hatch-born like myself. Perhaps kin like me would be the norm after a few generations.
Before the light in the sky completely disappeared and the cold would prevent me from moving properly, I finished sewing my sling back to good condition and checked over my clothes. Then I snuggled up against my kin to settle down for the cold darkness, eliciting a few hisses of annoyance from those still not asleep. Although Forjaw was my friend, I kept far from them due to their bad sleeping habits.
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In the morning, I awoke to find myself laying on the nest floor all alone, having slept in far longer than my kin. At the very first light peeking into the cave that we called home, they would travel outside and get started with their day. Meanwhile, I would not wake until the sun was properly up a bit, making it easier to soak in the warmth. Dragging myself outside, that was exactly what I did, let the light wash over me and get my blood flowing.
Strangely enough, there were only the young hatchlings by the den, all of our adults weren't around. Usually some would stay behind to teach the youth or protect the den. I went over to one of these hatchlings to see if they knew anything about what happened while I was still asleep. Their name was threetoe due to one of their feet having two claws merged together from birth. Apparently they may separate and become separate toes if they were cut apart, but that would risk losing both and becoming Twotoe.
"Threetoe, where have the rest gone?" I asked.
"Off to wage war on the Furred Ones as they hunted in our territory or something like that," said Threetoe as they suddenly lunged at the ground to grab a fat Loud Black to eat.
"Why didn't they wake me up for something so important? Nevermind, point me in the direction where they went so I can catch up," I said as I went back inside the den to grab my sling and shine rock weapon. If there was a war, then I was obligated to participate to help the tribe. It would also act as a great testing ground for my new weapon.
"Dunno, but they said something about water ending. Their talks got boring so I went back to hunting," said Threetoe as they moved a boulder to the side and began combing the area for small prey.
"Water ending? Like a waterfall or a pond? No wait, the underground river right next to the Furred Ones territory of course. Thank you Threetoe, I'll make sure to bring back a bit of meat for you later," I said as I ran off into the forest.
There was quite a bit of distance to cover, but by the time I arrived, my kin had not left for war yet. At that time, they were still soaking in the sun and readying themselves for combat. Most were chatting with each other while a few stopped by the river to get a drink or collect some rocks to use for their slings. I made sure to grab a few rocks myself in case something went wrong with the shine rock weapon.
The underground river itself was an oddity. From the distant mountains, this river traveled down all this way, only to be swallowed into a hole in the soil. Not piling up into a lake or pond, just one second it's above ground and the next it's flowing downward at an angle. If one dug a hole further down, they would find the river still flowing freely in the same general direction. Even without digging, the greenery was much thicker above the river, making its path quite obvious, flowing towards some rolling plains far away where the Tall Scaleless Ones' territory was.
One of my kin named Sixlaw, after the fact that they had six instead of five claws on both of their hands, came up to me and said, "Strangescale, what brings you here? You weren't invited to this war."
Sixlaw saw themselves as the chief of our kinsmen and felt like I was a threat to their authority, leading to them being hostile to me. To be honest, they pretty much were the chief in all but name, which is why no one bothered to wake me for the war. Something I actually appreciated since I got a full rest and didn't miss anything.
"War is something to be fought by all kin of age. It's not something that requires an invitation and you need my skill. I even have a new weapon modeled after something the Tall Scaleless use, even better than a sling. We could wipe the Furred Ones out with such a weapon," I said excitedly while showing off the shine rock weapon.
"We're not here to wipe them out. Just to punish them for hunting in our territory. As we always do in war, we will attack a few of their hunters, take one of the prey in their territory, return to our territory, then fend off whatever response they bring to us. I've heard about your little trip to destroy a nest of Ground-Born Green Softfleshes from Forjaw and I can't say I'm too impressed. Then again, I owe you a favor since Smalltail was one of the kin who followed my orders and those Softfleshes can be troublesome when they spread. Get in line and we shall fight side by side as kin should," said Sixlaw.
Out of everything they said, the fact that they used the same terms as Forjaw pissed me off far more than them not inviting me to the war. My goal of joining the war party was successful and soon the whole group moved off towards the Furred Ones territory. I took up the rear, watching our backs and making sure no one was left behind. Surely, I wasn't slowed down from the rocks in my pockets. Definitely not.
The difference between our territory and their territory was quite obvious. While still inside the same forest, different species lived there and there was more space between them. Not only that but their roots were smaller. Yet, barely any bushes grew in the spots not taken. There were enough trees to block my aim but no cover to get behind completely. Not that a large group of Lizardkin could hide from anything.
Scratches stood out distinctively on many of the trees we passed. This was the Furred Ones way of marking their territory. Complete savages. We lizardkin would use a combination of rubbing our scents on the trees and then felling some around the outer border to make the message clear even to other species. These scratches were just mindless destruction and continued on all the way to the center of their territory.
Eventually we bumped into three Furred Ones. They had the same body shape as us and could stand on two feet but these mangy beasts would walk on all fours most of the time. Their entire body was covered in thick hair and they possessed long mouths with four long teeth. Upon seeing us, they stood up and barked at us, raising up wooden spears and trying to scare us away. My fellow kin responded in kind, spinning up their slings but not throwing any rocks while letting out high pitched hisses. Neither side wanted to start the fight despite it being inevitable. I wondered why they didn't take this chance to flee considering how outnumbered they were.
I took no part in this display, standing off to the side with the string of the shine rock weapon pulled back, ready to kill any of these Furred Ones after this farce finished. I'm not sure if it was due to it going on for long enough or due to the fact the Furred Ones realized they weren't getting any backup from their other kin, but they finally began to back off while still barking and raising their spears. My kin walked forward to close this distance until the Furred Ones were fleeing on all fours and they ran after them, still spinning their slings and occasionally throwing out rocks.
Missing the chance to fire upon them, I followed behind the crowd and had to ditch a few rocks to be able to keep up. All of them were sprinting and throwing rocks wherever. It was horribly inefficient and they ran out of rocks so quickly that they would pick up and throw random things they found on the ground along the way. One of the fleeing Furred Ones got hit in the back of the leg. My kin did not bother with them at all, simply trampling over it. Stopping for a second, I finished off the struggling and half dead enemy with my new weapon, piercing a hole clear through its head, letting me see the ground below for a brief moment, replaced by flowing blood.
After I caught back up, the last two of the enemies had been finished off as well. Apparently, that strategy worked due to the numbers of my kin somehow. A short break was called by Sixlaw as they stripped the fur from the enemies and prepped some of the parts for consumption. Unfortunately, I had to backtrack to get the one I killed and drag it over so it could be consumed as well, as per tradition. We each had to eat a different part of the three fallen Furred Ones. Since I dragged one of the bodies over, I managed to get the tasty liver from the one while having to eat rubbery and tasteless tendon from the other two.
We had accomplished the first part of the war. Next we had to hunt down some sort of prey without being killed ourselves by the Furred Ones patrolling about. Then we could leave and perhaps they would be so scared that they wouldn't even attack us back. Unlikely, but it always helped to have some hope. I was tempted to just run off and kill so many of the Furred Ones on my own that they wouldn't be able to get back at us at all.
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Author’s note: A bit of dialogue for this chapter. If there’s any unclear terms, let me know and I’ll edit in a term list like the previous chapter, but I’m a bit too tired to reread the chapter rn and make one.