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Traces in Mud

Munching on a few Flowers which had smelt especially tasty, he eyed the bug in front of him.

It was a caterpillar covered in little hairs and currently eating another such flower.

And while one part of him thought that it looked quite appetizing, the other balked at the bright red colour of the insect. It half remembered other brightly colored animals and what they did to people who tried to eat them.

But he was not like the strange beige and brown creatures in the memories the other side argued, while the caterpillar slowly crawled and chewed on the tasty flower.

That left the first side stumped and while it tried to remember something, his tongue grabbed the caterpillar and pulled it into his mouth and it was gone.

Distress filled the first side, but the Hunger that just did not abate no matter how much he ate quickly had him swallow the lovely flower too.

On and on he went, snacking on whatever his nose led him to.

And while one side worried and observed, the other relished in its growing Triumph as the caterpillars poison failed to act.

Plants, bugs and mushrooms of all kinds. Nothing was safe from his hungry little jaws until evening fell and the air changed.

Strange and strong smells and loud noises started filling the forest and strange shadows filled spaces where they shouldn't be.

And for once, both sides were in agreement. So he dove into the mud below. Down and down he went into the cold wet dark.

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And it felt glorious. It almost felt like home.

It took him no time at all to find the remains of his egg at the bottom of the swamp and he went to chewing on them to sate his craving.

Only to find them the most delicious thing he had eaten in his short life. And so he devoured it whole.

Only after the rush had worn off, did one side of him wonder.

He had just eaten a whole egg and lots of mud at the bottom of a swamp. And yet he did not seem to need to go up to take in air as some creatures in his memories did. Nor did he need to stop to digest. The hunger was always there, waiting, although a lot less pressing than he remembered it could be.

And knowing that he could not yet resurface, he went about exploring himself instead.

He had four legs ending in clawed feet, although the feet themselves were strange. They had three claws pointing to the front. Strong and thick, of which the middle claw seemed the longest and sharpest. Two claws set back a bit further, which had a wide range of movement, allowing him to use his feet to grab things if he wanted. And at last, even further up the leg, was another short claw ending in a blunt tip. Although this one just stayed close to his legs and felt somehow underdeveloped.

His scales felt quite smooth in the mud, although that may be misleading and his little wing stumps were a bit itchy, now that he focussed on them. The shape of his head was hard to determine down here, but the two little buds which would presumably become horns one day stood out quite clearly.

And lastly his tail. It was as long as the rest of his body combined and had little bony growths at it's end. The part of him that remembered being another creature was quite amazed by it. The other felt only the now familiar smugness.

After a while of just thinking and being in the mud, he carefully made his way to the surface. Many creatures hunted in dusk and dawn after all, maybe it was more peaceful once night fell. But as his head slowly lifted from the mud, he realized how wrong he had been. The cries and screams were louder now and closer. And blood lay heavy in the air. And as he looked up, he could barely see silhouettes flying and clashing and falling in the moonless night above. No, he agreed. It was better to live in the day for a mere hatchling as himself.

One day he would fly, he promised himself as he dove into the familiar darkness. And one day he would wander the night without fear and see all it's wonders.

But for now, he waited. Snd slowly sank into a strange state not quite like sleep.