Waking up exhausted is not something I would recommend. The exhaustion isn't a physical one, its an emotional one. The dreams I had were not nightmares, far from it. They were tainted recollections of my life as a human. Imperfect memories of feeling cared for, of feeling safe. The sorrow I feel is enough that I do not start moving until Instinct stirs. When they do I gather myself and take our bearings.

The first thing I notice is the carvings that were not there when I fell asleep. It startles me. Not enough to start blasting fire everywhere, but enough to get my heart racing. A feeling of pride comes from Instinct when their eyes take in the wall. I question Instinct, and their response is more put together than before. Less just straight emotions and more words, or the feeling of words.

"Yes, this is my work. I wanted to remember what has happened to us," they send.

The fact that Instinct has started thinking in words has caught me off guard. "When did you learn words?" I ask.

"I learned them last night while you were dreaming. Your memories of words is helping me describe things better."

"Oh, that's interesting. I'm glad words are helping out, I guess." I turn and fully take in their work on the wall. It looks good for a baby hydra. Good for a carving in the wall. I like it, actually. Especially the bit where the nonsensical prayer I honestly forgot about is. The "Heavenly Hydra" looks very majestic.

After we spend some time admiring Instinct's work, I turn over and ask, "So, what should we do today?"

"As much as I like our hidey hole, I think we should find a safer place to go," Instinct says. "I really don't like the look of anything down here. The bats are huge and could swallow us in a bite. The spiders set off all of my alarm bells. The ants seem like trouble as well. The beetles seem to be the least dangerous thing down here, since avoiding them seems easiest."

"Yeah. As much as eating the scraps of the bats seems like a viable strategy, I don't like our chances of staying unseen forever," I add.

Thinking back, there were a few big dark tunnels leading in various directions out of this cave. Whether they lead up to the surface or deeper down was hard to remember.

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"I think I should stick my head out and scout a path for us to take to get out of here." Instinct bobs a nod of confirmation. We head to the entrance of our temporary home.

A careful glance at the area around our hole shows that the bats are sleeping still. There are a few beetles nearby, but they don't seem to be moving towards us. The ants are semi-visible across the cavern, doing ant things. I can't see the spiders. The moose bones are still there, though there seems to a few beetles eating the bones. The three tunnels I can see are about evenly spaced. The one to my right is darker than the cave. It seems to be lacking any of the moss or mushrooms that let me see. The one to my left is where the spiders are. I am not venturing over there again. The last tunnel is across the way, and is lit by the moss stuff. Weirdly, no mushrooms over there that I can see from this distance.

Instinct seems to be watching with my eyes as well. They seem to track a path through the middle of the cave that seems to have the fewest spots that are just out in the open. Its littered with cracks and decayed bone fragments. It does seem to stray a little close to the ants, which is worrying, but it's either the ants or spiders, and we agree that spiders are much much worse.

After saying goodbye to our respective artworks we head out. Sneaking when you are a tiny hydra is relatively easy. Especially when everything is dark and there's good cracks to hide in. The first little jaunt across the cavern is uneventful. The bats stay asleep, the spiders are unseen, and the beetles are seeming to converge on the bones. It's very freaky that half the moose skeleton is gone already. I did get spooked once by a skull that looked very humanlike that we crossed. Since I don't really know my size all that well, I can't tell if it was a giant's skull or if I am much smaller than I thought. Maybe we're some kind of pygmy hydra, or the runt of the litter. Another skull soon after dissuades that idea, since it is smaller than the first and more about what I would expect.

We pause when we get to the next open stretch. Some of the bats have seemed to have woken up recently, so it's not really safe to cross. There is a beetle that looks like it might come across this spot soon, so we really need to move quick. Instinct seems to know how to slither better than I do, so I relinquish full control to them.

When the bats have settled down some and the beetle grows closer, Instinct darts out into the open space. It's about 20 slithers across. The nervousness I feel from myself and Instinct makes me glad we can't trip.

15 slithers.

10 slithers.

8.

5.

3.

We made it. Instinct dives under a particularly large bone, and we stay still. I'm looking to the left, Instinct to the right.

I have to say, two heads is great for keeping an eye our for things behind you. Thankfully, nothing seems to have reacted to us moving across the open area. The next leg of the journey is an easy one. Keep stealthy and away from the big ants wandering about.

We got this.