Frog #2: The Hawk
Frog had found a new nemesis. An expert hunter that stalked the swamp, suddenly snatching prey from above. Its prey was mostly fish, so Frog did not worry at first. Then he noticed that it sometimes grabbed other creatures, newts mostly, then toads or frogs as well. Though, it seemed to prefer fish.
The large, winged beast, which Frog learned was called a Hawk, when it swooped down one day to snatch his mate from right beside him. The odd blue boxes had been appearing more frequently of late. Ever since he had received one specific box, he guessed.
[You have achieved the title: Awakened Beast]
[Through gradual effort, or a freak magic accident, you have become sentient. With intelligence rivaling humanoid children, you can outthink your instincts, make your own decisions, and understand the consequences, whatever they may be.]
While he did not fully understand the mysterious words, he felt accomplished by their appearance. Though, he thought the tone was somehow off.
Some time after that blue box, another appeared:
[You have learned a new basic skill: Analyze]
He had been able to focus on creatures to find what they were. So far it was just a name. He was convinced he would receive more knowledge from it in the future. That is how he knew he was [Frog] just as his mate had been.
Prior to the loss of his mate, he had tried to ignore the Hawk, deciding it was not his concern. Now, he knew he had made a mistake. He should have been prepared, should have struck the foul plague from the sky sooner.
His use of [Master Swordsmanship] had improved. Yet, he doubted his chances of fully striking the Hawk down. It was quite large, and Frog had not faced such a large target yet.
So, he waited, and practiced. When it was nearby, he hid in the mud, coated in it while observing his foe. Studying its attacks so he could be fully prepared to counter-strike at the perfect time. He would not attack from the mud, that would be unlike the sword, the sword was direct, not sneaky like the [Spiders] he had killed previously.
While not hiding, he trained. Cattails littered the swamp, so he used them as target practice. First to ensure he could break through the stalks of one, then of many simultaneously. Then later the brown tops became target practice, swaying in the wind, they were difficult to strike precisely, especially from such distance he was at.
Eventually the day came. He was ready. He sat on a floating lily pad, at the center of his pond in the swamp. He waited.
The hawk did not come. Perhaps he had intimidated it? He will try again tomorrow.
Three days he waited, until finally it appeared. Frog had also baited out some of the fish around his lily pad, bringing them near the surface to ensure the Hawk struck near him.
The hawk dove towards him, aiming at the fish just before and to the left. Frog waited for the perfect moment. The point where the hawk had just captured the fish, its dive slowed by its unfurled wings, just before it beat them down to return to the sky.
His tongue lashed out, a faint glow trailing it. He struck true, just below its left wing, at its heart while also crippling the wing with the follow through. The bleeding fish fell from its talons as it tried to evade, too late of course. It was too focused on its mean to be wary of Frog.
He nearly doubted his success as it flapped unevenly, rising briefly into the sky before going limp and splashing into the swamp.
[You have killed: Hawk Familiar Level 3]
The new box gave confirmation. The extra information also confirmed what Frog had thought was missing from [Analyze]. He tasted the bloody drop of victory left on his tongue, it was bitter and metallic. He disliked it, so he lashed out to his side, flicking the blood from his blade.
----------------------------------------
Fox #2: Victory
The Vixen had taken time to recover. The play fighting with the wolf runt had taken a much greater toll on her than the wolf. She had been bruised and battered, small nicks and lost fur. Worst of all was a small tear in her ear. She had prized her ears, they were perfect. Now the right ear was twice pierced, the second hole was torn out completely. Result of the wolf’s teeth catching her as she tried to dodge.
Previously, she had considered the wolf a possible ally or friend, even. But what friend would do this to her? She discarded the idea of returning to its pack, it was too risky anyway.
She spent over a week resting and training. Reviewing the lessons learned from the runt. She trained by hunting larger prey, and using her strength to defeat the prey, rather than simply her speed as she would have previously.
At the tenth day, strange blue boxes appeared:
You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.
[You have achieved the title: Awakened Beast]
[Through gradual effort, or a freak magic accident, you have become sentient. With intelligence rivaling humanoid children, you can outthink your instincts, make your own decisions, and understand the consequences, whatever they may be.]
[You have learned the skill: Basic Brawling]
She had never been concerned with her own abilities, yet this truly showed that her training efforts were rewarded. This was a clear sign that she was ready to defeat the strange prey.
It took some time to find the prey again. She consulted with her fox pack, locating an area where rabbit hunting had been particularly difficult compared to how often they were seen. The Vixen found this easier than the last time she had done so. Her natural cunning showing improvement.
Finding the prey again seemed simple, but confirming it was not an ordinary rabbit was more challenging. She could simply hunt it as normal. She did so once, simply to fill her belly, but she was cautious not to overeat, as that would affect her fighting ability. Instead, she stalked her prey. Looking for signs of its ability to shift forms suddenly.
She found a trail that seemed suspicious. It smelled like a rabbit, but also a bird. It switched between the two as she trailed it, it made movements that were uncommon to both. Even switching to squirrel at a tree once. That took a while to track the trail from, it eventually came down at a different tree some distance away. She followed the trail for longer than most would.
----------------------------------------
Finally, the Vixen's tracking led her to a small cluster of bright green plants with a normal looking rabbit, munching on them.
Now, how to trick it into confronting her instead of fleeing. She stalked it for hours waiting for an opportunity. Eventually, the prey entered a partially enclosed area. A small clearing blocked on three sides.
She also needed to give it a chance to change into its predator form. She had observed that it would do so only when out of sight. The Vixen made a light yip then barking noise. A short call that foxes often used to call for one another. The prey startled to alertness at the noise, preparing to run. She repeated the call after a pause, closer to her prey this time. Slowly closing the trap, giving the prey time to panic.
When she walked into the clearing, she smiled and yipped in satisfaction. It has changed into a wolf, not the largest she had seen. Yet, if it was a true wolf, it would have no issue dispatching her.
Now for the true trap, the true use of her cunning. She would test its intelligence, see if it was worthy of its power. As she approached it growled, to ward her off. She was not discouraged; she used the same actions the wolf runt had used when she first met it. She was going to see if she could get it to play fight.
It seemed confused at first, still just growling and standing still. Barking at her to scare her off. She decided quickly that it was ignorant to the ways of the wolf pack. So, she was careful to take a gentle approach. The wolves were quite aggressive and brutal, even when play-fighting. She treated it like a young fox kit, by pushing it around a bit. Being careful to keep an excited, playful tone in her yips and barks.
Eventually it got the idea. The Vixen was surprised to find it slowly shrinking, fur shifting to red like hers. It played like a child, like a runt that thought it would lose at every turn. Not like the savage ferocity of a wolf, or the swift deadly cunning of a fox.
This was its true death sentence. If she hadn’t already decided its fate, this would be the deciding factor, it ran only on instinct. There was no intelligence in its eyes. It was prey and always would be.
Its baser instincts truly showed when it was nearly a full fox, a male fox. Clearly intent on something only a mindless male fox would be. Had it been intelligent, had it not been prey, she might have entertained the idea, her pack would be powerful with such an ability in their blood. If it even passed in that way. It still smelled of prey, even through the musk of wolf and fox, this close its true scent was clear.
She was ruthless in its execution. She had waited long enough, clamping down on its throat when she had the upper hand. She used the strength focused mindset of the wolves to crush its esophagus and tear out its jugular. The hot blood filled her maw, sweet and tasting like simple prey. Not giving it a chance to react, she clamped on to the back of its neck. It froze in shock, she felt it shudder within her grasp, shifting form slightly, but unsure of how to escape. Its true instincts took over as it reverted to a simple rabbit. She thrashed it against the ground, pummeling it and snapping its neck.
She did not relent, she knew how the world worked, how prey might feint. She continued to tear at it until. It regained some composure, or more likely, its instinct took over. Its form writhed and thrashed at her. Becoming a mass of claws and teeth. It tore at her, and she held firm. The wolf’s training telling her not to let go, not to retreat as she might once have.
One maw broke her leg, a beak snapped off half her tail. Claws shredded her fur. It was weakening and she did not relent, feeling its blood spilling in her mouth. Finally:
[You have defeated: XXXX-touched Hare Abomination Level 5]
She feasted on it, reveling in the fresh meal. The victory after weeks of effort. A bitter victory with her wounds. The meal was unpleasant and disturbing for being an aberrant mass of body parts, its form had not reverted after death.
[You have gained the skill: Lesser Form Changing of the XX?X-touched]
[You can instantly change your form to any you can imagine. Practice with this skill improves accuracy and detail. At higher skill level: forms are indistinguishable and fully functional. This skill's origin is unknown.]
She was startled by the blue box. She had not expected this. She laughed at it; at the boon she had earned. That she had stolen from the weak prey.
As she looked at her ruined form, she flexed this new skill. Slowly sealing her wounds. It was rough, unrefined. As she made progress restoring herself, she learned its tricks, improved slightly. The hare must have had the power for a long time to use it so seamlessly. She restored her broken bones, her missing tail, and damaged fur.
A trip to a nearby pond let her see her handiwork. Make corrections and restore her glorious form. She had been pristine among foxes, unrivaled in beauty, and she would be once again.
She left a single hole in one ear, to remind herself of her training with the wolf, so she would remember to use her cunning, prepare for dangerous situations, and not rely on instinct.
Her tail was the final piece restored, the most difficult, it had been her pride and joy, with its silky soft and luxurious red fur. So she made sure to replicate it perfectly.
Once completely satisfied, she felt she deserved another reward. A mark of her success. Seeing her tail alongside its reflection in the water she smiled. “Why not?” She asked the world, “Why shouldn’t I have a second tail?”
----------------------------------------