Greenscales are the fastest to create the simple tools of survival, rope, blades, fire, etc. It is a quirk of their bloodline, as they are close to the Firebringer, Baha’an. Be prepared for that to happen as you act as Provider.

-From Neonatum Provisae: 3:16-18

Ropemaker’s hand got closer still, thick fingers and glinting claws walking the hand along. Palm brushing against the bark.

Don’t make me fight! She bared her teeth under the mask of moss.

Survive! Strike first! Kill!

Her legs coiled beneath her, her jaw tightened, the claws of her feet dug into the bark for a good grip. His hand moved closer, slapping now.

Wait, is he… feeling for something?

Ropemaker picked up something she hadn’t noticed by her feet.

The rain rattled against the reed roof.

There was another flash of lightning and she saw that it was a small rock of a peculiar shape. Thin. Like it was broken off from a larger stone. It glinted slightly in the night.

He turned back to face his catch. In the flash of the lightning she could see that his hue was only slightly more yellow.

Does he have a deficiency? Why not use his claw? The shock of not having to fight only increasing her distractability.

Watch. See. Her Instinct was still ready to spring and fight.

Using the small piece of split stone, he sliced off the forelegs of the large rodent. He then ran the sharp fragment along the inside of each. He did this methodically, slicing away the flesh and exposing the tendon. Not tearing, but almost just, running the flake along the animal. The flesh splitting away.

So much sharper than a claw! Could she make such a thing?

Yes.

He flipped it around with a bloody splat, shifting as he did with at grunt. Pealing the flesh like it was a rind of a particularly ripe fruit and taking out the back tendons too. He carved off a haunch, eating it messily.

It took her a moment to realize that the tendons were the forked ‘sticks’ she had seen hanging up with the pile of bark. Sure enough, he grabbed a thin piece of cordage and tied the pair next to the others.

To dry out… but why? Could they be provisions for later?

I should focus. Her Instinct’s frustration leaked into her forebrain.

Ropemaker tossed the bones of the giant rodent into the river as well. The sound of the splash was almost completely drowned out by the falling rain.

The marrow!

Wasted! Her Instinct snarled.

She almost wanted to kill him for that waste.

He then began coiling up what a fresh flash of lightning revealed to be the thin snares, going slowly for some reason that wasn’t readily apparent in the dark of the stormy night.

Checking for flaws… Instinct speculated quietly.

She focused on his thick hands, wondering if her Instinct was right. It was too dark to see though, she’d have to wait for another lightning flash.

The neonate’s body was starting to cramp up from staying in place for so long. Especially her shoulder, which pulsed with waves of pain. Her stomach screamed for food. Instinct tried to wiggle its own voice into her subconscious as she thought about that, but she again forced it away.

No distractions.

She didn’t need any of those this close to one of her competitors. It was just as she thought that that she heard something. Something strange. Something wrong.

What was that?

The male had heard it too, looking off towards the center of the island. Standing to get a better look. He stood and walked right in front of her, and she quickly shut her eyes to hide their reflection of light.

Muscles tense, now ready to spring away if needed. The silence seemed to her to indicate he had noticed something strange about the shadow she was hiding in. She pressed further into it, not daring to do anything else.

There it was again, the sound.

She opened one eye to the tiniest slit.

He had paused. In the dark she could see the silhouette of his head turn to look towards the noise as well.

Again, even louder this time.

What was it?

He definitely could hear it too. It wasn’t just her. He had turned away from her now, towards the sound.

Again.

It was… A voice?

No.

A scream!

Clearer and louder still now, it echoed under the sounds of the storm, high pitched, and familiar. One of them was being hurt… She felt fear flood into her body as she realized what it meant.

The monster had struck again.

Ropemaker rushed towards the noise. He ran along one of the thicker lines, toes curling to grip it with each step, thick tail helping him balance. He leaped from the line to the end of a branch, the whole thing swaying, ropes creaking. He grabbed one, fully in the rain, facing the center of the island. He had dropped the snares.

“What would make us scream like that?” He whispered in horse sibilant tones. “Even the runt wouldn’t sound like that.”

Kill!

No!

Ignoring the insult, she shivered in terror, knowing that the monster had killed again. Fear took hold of her, her mind cracking under the strain of all of this. She would be found, killed, shoved from the tree to be broken by the ground below.

Her flesh wasted, unnamed as she died.

She started to whimper. Missing the sun, the warmth, the quiet times with the Provider.

Then another voice, muffled at first, but then clearer, screamed at her.

Idiot! Take advantage of this! Now! The voice was filled with boiling wrath, indignant that she would even entertain the idea of giving up now. It had to be her Instinct.

And it was right.

She glanced up at the woven reeds, then back down to the dropped snares.

Acting quickly, trying and failing to ignore the shrieks of pain now echoing across the island, she reached forward and grabbed one of the snares. She only had moments to do this, she was sure.

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Ropemaker snarled, facing the sounds. Staring out towards the danger, not knowing he was dangerous to her.

The neonate used her claws to fray the fibers of one length. Taking a guess. Hoping she was right to think that Ropemaker had been checking for damage. Not too much, but hopefully enough to warrant a repair or the fabrication of a fresh piece of line.

She thought about using her teeth as well, but she didn’t want a chance to leave any new smells on it. Her claws and hands were bad enough as it was. Hopefully the wet and the moss would keep her from being discovered.

It was the work of mere moments. Her plan laid, she took advantage of his distraction and slunk out of her hiding place.

Her stiff joints rebelled against the sudden movement. She was tyrannical in her demand to move, to not be found, and she forced herself.

Once she was around the far side of the trunk, she climbed higher. She held herself flat against the tree before scrambling into the woven reeds of the roof of the nest.

She already knew that Ropemaker was less likely to think to look upwards from how he acted before, so it seemed like a better hiding place. And now that she was in amongst the layered and woven reeds she could stretch out, with a better view of what he did. Somehow warmer than below too.

More out of the wind, I suppose.

Deep in the dark, she became a shadow with her pattern. Settling in.

A titanic roar competed with the thunder for the title of loudest sound in the night, and luckily it was far away. She might have leaped out through the reeds if it was closer.

It clearly was the Provider’s war cry. A sound to challenge foes, and to warn or punish his charges.

Instinctively she curled tighter into her hiding spot. Ropemaker scrambled back under cover, also cowering from the sonic bludgeon that was Tok’s fury.

Holding her breath she waited, keeping herself hidden above the male hatchling. He shivered, his green ever so slightly paler. She secretly empathized with the need to calm down with him. Not minding her secret moment of quiet with her broodmate. She could wait. Close to someone else while a monster stalked the night.

It was a long time before Ropemaker collected himself enough to go back to his task, and it was in those quiet moments that she started to understand something that she had been too frantic to take in earlier. He couldn’t be the monster. It had just killed someone out there in the night.

That might not have been a murder. Instinct grumbled.

I know what I heard. I know that was a murder.

Believing that reassured her that she wouldn’t be eaten at least if caught.

The result would be the same.

True, but Ropemaker might be less inclined to continue pursuit if she got far enough away.

Fair enough.

Ropemaker picked up his dropped cordage, starting to coil it again. From her new vantage she could see that he was checking the condition of each with a thumb. Her excitement grew. The inspection slowed, and he felt at one for a bit longer than the others.

The one I frayed? It had to be.

Had she done too much? Would it give her away? He brought it to his face, inspecting it in the flashes of lightning, then he discarded it, tossing it out of his nest and moving to the pile of dried fibers.

Success!

Good! Learn!

She slunk above him, keeping a close eye on his actions as he grabbed a handful of the bark, sitting down on a branch and letting his feet dangle over the side of the tree. A rope resting against his chest as he actually leaned forward, swinging his legs absentmindedly as he worked.

She repositioned herself, taking her time, moving with deliberate caution. She couldn’t move quickly as it might disturb the dried reeds above her. Some shifted, and one started to fall.

No!

Her hand darted out and caught the debris so that it wouldn't fall on Ropemaker’s tail as he worked. She shifted her body to catch the occasional drip of rain as she slid the reed slowly back into place.

The stress was bad enough, but her shoulder burned with pain.

She thought wistfully of the bliss of the leaves.

Yes! Leaves! Get some now! So good that-

Quiet! She nearly snarled out loud she was so frustrated at her Instinct. She spotted a blessing in disguise, some ropes to lean on. She shifted further along the overhanging branch and rested her upper body on the rope. Slowly. Not even making a creak.

In position now, and having silenced her own thoughts, she tried her best to make out what Ropemaker was doing.

He had taken several fibers, aligning them so that they were parallel to each other. Twisting and twisting, winding and winding, and then it kinked, curling over in the opposite direction. Keeping each half separate, he twisted one at a time away from himself, then twisted that bundle around the other towards himself. Switching bundles each time.

That simple? How had she not figured that out on her own?

Fighting to survive.

True.

She settled in for a long wait for him to finish.

The rain continued to rattle on the reeds just above her, and in the warmth and the dry, she struggled to not dose off.

It felt like an age passed before Ropemaker finally bedded down, but when he did, she was like a shadow in the night. Slinking down to the main level of the nest, she stared at him to make sure he didn’t stir as she moved.

Walking on the netting was strange, but not overly difficult. She quickly got used to how she sank more than usual. She crept through, not wanting to stay long and needing to sleep. She yawned and nearly yelped as her foot went through a hole in the netting. The whole thing bounced.

Ropemaker’s breathing hitched.

She held still, holding her breath.

He grumbled, and rolled over, growling.

She readied herself to flee.

Fight!

No!

Idiot…

He started snoring again, drifting into deeper dreams.

She tried to ignore that he was now facing her and pulled her leg up out of the hole. It wouldn’t have been big enough for his foot to go through, emphasizing the difference in their sizes. Really wanting to leave, she contented herself with taking only a single strand of the fibers. Just for her personal comparison later, so that she might gather her own.

Take it all! Everything! Compete! Her Instinct ranted, yanking at her hands.

She bared her teeth in the night. This is enough.

She didn’t want to take too much, not yet. She didn’t need an enemy as strong as Ropemaker while she was recovering from a fresh injury. That, and she wanted to get the hell out of this deathtrap as soon as she could.

Climbing out into the rain, listening and glancing back often, making sure that he was still sleeping, she left, as silent as the moon trekking through the sky. She felt triumph as she made her escape, proud of her success.

The way back was long, and it was so tempting to just curl up in a dry spot not too far away and just make the rest of the trip in the morning. But she had no surety that Tok had killed the monster. Surely if he caught it then the murderer would be killed, but weather it had been caught was the real question. So finding a safe place to hide, out of the weather, where she could recover more from this fresh injury was paramount.

Somewhere hidden.

The river had overflowed the banks however, and the cold flow of water had covered the ground beneath. She still had a ways to go inland before she could find any dry place on the ground to sleep.

Idiot. Sleep in a tree. Learn! Adapt! Instinct shrieked in her mind, adding to a growing headache that she was struggling to fight off.

Part of her wanted to listen, to give in to sleep, but she shoved that part of herself aside. She would not just pick any tree. She had to be deliberate about where she chose.

The whole reason that Ropemaker could sleep in a tree like that was because he had probably been doing it for weeks now. It definitely helped him that his nest was prepped and ready to be used as a place of rest.

She didn’t have the time, energy, or resources to do anything similar. Not all in one night. What she could do was head inland though, towards higher ground, and possibly find something that would be dry and suitable for the moment.

Then I need to pick a bad place to sleep, so I won't have to fight over it. Her Instinct grumbled, and that made her pause.

A bad place to sleep… She paused. Somewhere that wouldn’t seem desirable to the others. Somewhere that would serve her purposes and her purposes alone.

Something that doesn’t look like a place to rest at all.

With that thought, she continued her trek, toes and ankles getting wet as the water continued to rise, even with her going uphill.

Eventually she made her way back to mostly solid ground, mud instead of standing water. It was not far from the original nesting site she thought.

Her stomach gurgled.

There should be a berry bush nearby.

She hoped that there were still some left to eat.

Lightning flashed above her, and it took some time for the rumbling thunder to catch up.

Only one way to find out.

The neonate hissed in dissatisfaction when she reached the berry patch. Fighting down the urge to rip the bushes out by the roots.

Not that I could in my state. She growled with dark orange frustration as her shoulder throbbed.

There had only been a handful of berries ripe enough to eat, and both her stomach and her Instinct screamed for more. She fought down her urge to throw a tantrum. There were plenty of green berries.

Not yet ripe, but they would be soon.

Not soon enough. Must feed now! Her Instinct snarled, clawing at her empty insides. And it was with those thoughts that she settled down for the night. Unsure of how she would solve her problems in the morning.