He sat on a broken tree as dusk was falling.

The swamp before him had grown even more lively in the last three years, countless species intermingling in the sea of spring colours.

His long tongue absentmindedly snatched up another long black centipede from the rotting wood as he simply sat and relaxed. These little buggers were everywhere.

The dreaming colours of winter had grown more orderly and more him with every passing cycle and he was feeling as if he was slowly approaching an important point.

"Should already be there", the Beast complained. "Patience", the man replied. After all, even when his instincts told him he was taking longer than usual, those lights were clearly important and whatever he was doing in his dreams should be done to satisfaction and not one bit less.

As the sun was slowly sinking below the trees, he got up and walked towards his swamp. For even now he wanted little to do with the many beasts that filled the night. No, he saw no reason to endanger himself for no gain.

And he still remembered his last greater outing clearly. The thrill but also the anger and the fear. And as he slowly sank into the swamp to swim across it's surface he remembered the miserable days of his slow return to his swamp through the bedrock beneath. Swimming through it was no easy matter. And when he surfaced at last, he had somehow expected a spear to find his neck within moments. But they had been gone and he had not smelled them since.

And it was better this way.

He made his way to his favorite rock with fluid grace and climbed upon it as the last of the sun vanished below the horizon.

Around him were the most colourful flowers of the whole swamp. They shimmered in the light of the emerging stars and some even had tiny little fruits of dubious colours.

For a while he just sat there and lost himself in the smells of the forest. One of the farther western smells which he only sometimes caught on the wind was a lot closer now. A new kind of beast to him, small and agile probably. One of the greater smells to the south had recently changed. It was stale now. One of the greater beasts of the forest had likely died. Another smell, sharp and hot had taken it's place.

He wondered if they would ever show themselves close to his swamp. And then the noises started. Beasts small and great alike awoke and went out to hunt and fight like every night. And he gazed into the heavens to see the fliers dance beneath the stars. He could follow a few now, at least with his eyes. And so he sat, enraptured and stared at the dancing figures, his wings twitching with desire.

"One day", the man reassured the beast.

Finally, a crashing sound interrupted his stargazing. A tree close to his swamp had fallen and loud breathing was getting closer. Then a scream echoed through the forest.

"A child!", the man exclaimed. The beast was confused by his intensity, nervous, for the it was night, but hesitant. The man was determined.

He jumped and glid a legs length over the flowers. Getting closer and ever closer to the crashes growing louder in his ears. Then he lay eyes on a huge boar ramming a tree and another scream rang out.

"Too slow!", the man exclaimed and they folded their wings and dove. Now that they knew where they were going, they raced along just under the surface of the swamp. Thousands and thousands of flowers rushing by above them in mere moments.

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And then they felt the swamp end and jumped. Their feet found solid ground and they jumped again. Another loud crash almost covering a fearful whimper. The boar was looking away from him. The tree was falling. With one more great leap, he jumped onto the back of the boar and from there up to the tree. The child saw him coming and let go of the branch he was clinging to. Another loud crash resounded as the boar below had crashed another tree in order to find out what had attacked it from behind.

And then he was there. He grabbed the struggling kid, careful not to extend his sixth digits and dove through the falling branches. When he crashed to the ground on the other side, he rolled a good bit before turning and jumping once more. Then he tried to spread his wings but they hurt, so he adjusted his grip on the kid and ran to the swamp on three legs.

And jumped inside just in time, as the big boar rushed by the place he had just been right after. He swam for a few tail lengths to be safe and then turned around onto his back to cross eyes with the great boar on the shore. It tested the swamp with a hoof, then retreated a few steps. The kid was shivering and coughing as the boar stomped and snorted. In return he hissed. And both the kid and the boar stilled. For a moment, the forest all around his swamp stilled. And the boar turned and left.

Quick and quiet it went. After a moment, the kid started shivering again and so he swiftly returned to his favorite rock and sat the kid down upon it.

He swam over to another nearby rock and sat down upon it.

"Hurt", the beast noted. And he felt his wings and back as well as his head. The scales there had only been scratched lightly, but he could feel the impacts of branches and ground still. And good that he had taken them.

He looked at the kid. In difference to his almost pristine appereance, the kids clothes were muddy and ripped. It was still busy scraping mud from it's face and hairs while studiously ignoring him. If a swim through the swamp did that to it, then a swim through the ground would likely have resulted in a swift and bloody end.

The man shivered, while the beast remained impassive. "Not really tasty", it remarked. "Not food", the man replied.

Taking a closer look at the kid revealed something he had somehow blatantly up to this point. It's skin was green. The man was once more confused. The beast was confused at his confusion in turn. "Skin is weird colour", the man explained. "It green, we green", the beast replied.

And for a moment the man was confused. And then he remembered shame. For truly, what did the colour of skin matter to him. Why would he care, who remembered so many good people, no matter how they looked. Why would he care, the beast added, who was part of a species that called all colours their own.

He snorted at his own folly and the kid shuddered. It seemed he had reminded it that he was there. It soon started shivering again. A little ball of mud and fear on a big rock under the stars.

For a long moment he looked at it, then he jumped to another rock nearby, this one a lot flatter and broader than most others and laid down upon it. He spread his wings beneath him, let all his limbs fall to the side and gazed up at the stars, tongue lolling out of his mouth.

it took a while for the little one to bring up the courage to look at him and he made no conscious sign that he was paying attention to it as he just laid there in the most goofy way he could imagine, pointedly pretending to ignore it.

After what seemed like a long while, it's breathing normalised and he took a glimpse to see it gazing at the stars with him.

Above, the celestial bodies and beneath them the beasts of the skies continued their dances. And he almost wondered how much the little one was able to see of it.

And so, in silence, they stayed until dawn arrived. When the noises of the night subsided and the sun peeked above the trees, the small one had fallen asleep upon it's rock.

Softly, he scooped it up and laid it down upon a relatively solid portion of the swamp. Then e dove beneath and lifted it upon his back. His wings were still too hurt to fly, but not enough he could not hold the child between them.

And so he carried it to the western shore. Taking up it's scent trail from there was a bit of a challenge, but soon he was following it's trail of the previous day, back to where it had come from. Everything was peaceful this time around, but this did not stop the beast from being nervous as he swiftly snuck through the forest.

It took him from dawn to almost noon to follow it's path far enough that he could smell many of it's kind nearby. This was a lighter part of the forest. Neither were the trees as dense here as they were near the swamp, nor was the air as full of life.

And her was a village of these people. Their green skin good for camouflage amidst the trees beneath which they had built their houses. He laid down the child not too far from the village of it's people and quickly retreated. After all, neither man nor beast wanted to be hunted by them as well.

Interesting but light smells of all kinds filled his nostrils as he traced his own scent back to his swamp.

Soon he beheld his home of many years now and the man was satisfied. For he had done something good.

"Hungry", countered the beast and so he returned to his peaceful days of eating and wondering at the heavens.