Always trade pain for victory. Such a sacrifice is often what is needed to bring death to our foes.

-From Canticles: 1:6-7

The neonate almost snarled in frustration as the rain picked up.

Need to mask my scent! How?

To her right she could see Tok freeze in her peripheral vision. Her tongue flickered out as her mind raced.

Hurry! Adapt!

A rich earthy scent was all around her.

The mud!

She submerged into the water just as the Provider started to turn in her direction, holding her breath and closing her eyes.

She waited. Counting the seconds. Not daring to move for a little bit in case she visibly disturbed the water. She had already matched the color of the mud with her scales.

After a few moments of nothing happening, she moved forward, still under the water, walking along the bottom and scooping up mud to coat herself. Her toeclaws hooked on something hard and she paused, feeling the shape.

Square… more ruins… She had been worried it had been a turtle that might give her away by either fleeing or biting her.

Slowly, she half swam half slunk her way to the edge, finding a broken branch and sliding out on the far side of it from the Provider. Eyes cracked open the tiniest amount. He was looking almost in her direction, crimson eyes scanning and blue tongue flickering.

She sniffed the air, only smelling mud.

Should be good enough.

Careful.

She waited there, getting colder by the second, and eventually he turned back to the fire, feeding it more wood.

The neonate slithered through the mud, dragging herself forward like a Tikabo, keeping an eye on the Provider. The scent of the mud overwhelming now.

It was a unique smell, not at all like the vegetal earthiness of the moss, nor was it like the sharp wet smell of the whiptails. This was a deeper smell that she liked. An older smell. One she couldn’t name. Mixed with the rain, it was the smell of... of…

Genesis. Her Instinct scintillated.

The neonate kept crawling until she could see that she was out of Tok’s peripheral vision before slowly standing and moving more quickly to his shelter.

Lightning flickered and lanced overhead, like it was fighting the clouds. Bright jagged lines like the scars on Biter and Slash.

Thunder rumbled in the midst of another flash of lightning and then another. The storm was picking up.

If I can get to the roof, I’ll be above him. My smell won’t reach his nostrils even if the rain washes off this mud.

Her Instinct grunted.

More lightning, more thunder. It culminated in a continuous rolling rumble that she used to sprint forward, fighting to get to cover at last. Heading for one of the stacks of firewood to hide behind before planning her next move.

Her back slammed into the stack of wood, and she sighed in relief as she crouched low behind it. It was good to be out of the chilling rain. She bared her teeth silently as the cacophony ended.

Come on, what now? Think! Now she was behind cover and her scent masked again, she needed to figure out how to get the fire up to the thatch.

Learn! Adapt!

What could she use? What did she have?

Hand axe. Two snares left. The rope.

Rope! Her Instinct shrieked in her mind, almost ruining everything as the surprise nearly made her jump out of her skin prematurely.

She unslung the coiled rope from around her shoulders, looking at it.

It’s soaking wet.

Then she remembered how the grease had flared up in the coals.

Good, learn.

How am I going to get to that grease? And how will I get the flame up there?

Her Instinct hissed thoughtfully from behind her eyes, focusing on what she could see. She looked at the thatch. She was glad to see that the underside looked much dryer than what was outside of the shelter.

She glanced at the big male to make sure he was still in a state of recline, glad to see he was. Tok’s one large hand lifted to scratch his abdomen for just a moment before it came back down. His cavernous lungs loud as he breathed deeply. Her Instinct focused on that for a moment.

Slow. Measured. Calm.

Good, still unaware. She jerked back behind the firewood, returning to her frantic scheming. She needed that grease. That with a wet rope should make it smolder, right? Then climb up and light the thatch?

All while he is sat right there while I do it, watching me the whole time. She gnashed silently. She had a crick in her neck as well, and though she wanted to she didn’t dare shake her head to crack it. She needed to think of another way.

An idea started to form in her mind.

What if I don’t light it until I am on the-

Thum-Thum!

Fear filled her throat, nearly choking her as she felt him move, the ground shaking with his movement. Rage at the fear followed close behind, not fully cooled since the struggle with the python.

Strangely, the mixture of the two made her thoughts clearer than they would have been.

He won’t notice. Stay still. Good plan. Execute.

His huge hand floated over her where she hid, and she found the idea of staying still very difficult.

No! Think! Tending the fire.

She swallowed, but he simply plucked a few logs from the top of the stack, and when she checked to make sure, the Blackscale was placing them in his fire. Pinching the logs between his big claws and placing them just so, the coals rustling and tinkling dryly as they shifted.

His bright blue tongue slid out again. She felt the fear inside herself swell like an infected wound, but she didn’t let it control her. His head turned, first one way, then the other. Slowly, but thoroughly. She saw his eyes narrow, looking at the underbrush she had come from.

Does he know I am here?

She could feel her own bounding heartrate, almost like the organ was darting about like an angered swarm of bees inside her chest.

He stood.

The collision of his foot with the ground sent tremors through her body. She remained perfectly still, eyes almost completely shut as he rose to a crouch, too tall to stand up fully under his shelter.

Tok shuffled out from under the cover and into the rain, tongue sliding out and back in more rapidly now. His vibrant red eyes almost glowed in the dark of the storm. They did glow as lightning flashed again.

Move! Now! Her Instinct snarled.

This was her chance! She crept forward, staying on the mud and dragging her tail to hide her footprints, moving closer to the fire, rope in hand. Watching him move out into the storm and keeping an eye on places to dive behind if he turned.

He paused, as if sencing her eyes on him and she didn’t hesitate, springing behind a wooden cylinder labeled ‘dwarf lard’ in the truetongue.

Barrel. Her Instinct hissed.

The neonate undid the knot at the end of the rope, putting in a fresh one farther up and unwiding the fibers with her claws. It frayed just how she hoped it would, making a large sort of tassel.

Perfect for sopping up the fat.

Thum-thum.

She heard the Provider’s steps moving away and she ducked back out again.

She squeezed the loose fibers, twisting them, and brownish water dribbled out. She wanted them damp, not soaking.

She was up close to the fire now, the heat wonderful and dry. The neonate fanned the tassel near the coals, not close enough to catch, just wanting them to dry a little more. Then she sopped up the fat on the cookstone, her new tool working like a charm for the job, sizzling only for a moment.

The rich and toothsome smell of the fat drove her Instinct wild. So many calories.

She ignored it, not even knowing what it meant by that. Shifting away from the light and warmth, she scampered away from the fire. Moving into the shadows under the roof.

Now rushed even more, she eyed the strange structure made from boats. Stepping over something huge and wrapped in hides and such, slipping past other barrels, and crates. The boats would be the easiest way on top of the pole structure and not be noticed. Glancing over her shoulder she could see that Tok was still inspecting the tree line.

She heard him growl thoughtfully, pushing asside the ferns.

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There can’t be any traces left. It was raining too hard for that, right?

Hurry. Her Instinct demanded, not convinced.

Making sure to hold onto the grease coated rope, she squelched her way to the far side of the structure, on the far side of the firewood. Using her tail to wipe away the traces of her footsteps again. She scurried behind the two boats, leaning out from behind them with just one yellow eye to check where the Provider was.

He was heading back!

Shit!

She looked again, and was glad she did. His hand was held up, his pupils contracted to tight slits, the light of the fire too bright for him after looking in the darkness of the rainy night.

He won’t be able to see me well for a few moments if I am in the shadows!

Adapt! Thrive!

Coiling the rope back around herself she dug her claws into the wood of the boats, climbing. Thunder rumbled loudly and she shivered as the world became several shades darker around her. Night was coming, but the storm was getting even worse, the clouds thickening. She it to the top.

There was a large gap at the top that she could see and smell through. Curious she bent down and stuck her head into the space, her tongue flickering out rapidly. It was dark inside, and it stunk like smoke. And meat.

Feed! Now! Consume!

Her Instinct would not be denied now. Besides, by the time the theft was discovered she should already be long gone with the knowledge of making fire. She snatched blindly, probing, searching, reaching.

In a matter of moments she was waist deep into the top of the contrivance of watercraft repurposed, and had snagged a tough thin piece of something. It smelled like meat. She puled it out, feeling the soot on her body.

It certainty was meat, but what kind she couldn't tell. Not that it mattered, meat was meat. It had been skinned, and was a beautiful dark reddish brown. The color of a well-earned contentment. It looked to have been sprinkled with something.

Leaves perhaps?

Eat! Now!

Spitting the hand axe into her hand, she replaced it with the thin smoked meat. It was tough, and she had to tear it free, chewing as quickly and quietly as she could. Her eyes went wide, and she forgot the cold of the rain for a moment.

Gods…

It was glorious. The flavor was complex and intricate while not hiding the simple savor of the protein itself. She took another piece, tearing into it, gnawing the tough material in ecstasy.

More!

She reached for a third piece then stopped. What was she doing?!

No! The mission.

Her Instinct snarled from the recesses of her psyche, but it ultimately agreed as she licked her fingers. She put the hand axe back into her maw, peaking at what the Provider was doing.

Tok sat, casually adding another piece of wood to the fire. Something had changed though. She looked closer. He was sitting up, his head slowly swiveling. His tongue slid out to taste the air more often now. Even his eyes were open slightly wider.

Scanning for movement.

Something alerted him. She wished she knew what. She should get to the roof.

Clambering onto the peak of the boat, she judged for just a moment, then leaped, trying to make it to the roof of the pole building. The boats shifted under her. Her jump was slightly short, and she grunted as she hit the thatch around her midriff.

The boats clattered slightly too, and she scrambled up quickly lest she be found out. She still had her fat-soaked rope, the grease solidified, solid, but soft and off-white in color in the cold.

She could feel Tok shifting beneath her. Her fear spiked, but it had changed, aligning with her plan, honing her senses instead of freezing her. She took her time to move down the length of the building, stepping slowly.

She heard him growl in the night. Could almost imagine his red eyes narrowing in suspicion. He had to have heard it move.

He might kill first and question second. The thought came unbidden, and it didn't improve her mood. The whiptail shoots flexed worryingly underfoot, and she took even more time in response.

Can’t fall through. It's over if that happens.

Thum-thu-thum thu-thum.

She felt Tok move, sudden and surprising, shuffling, and unless she missed her guess, he was heading towards the smoker. His low warning rumble proved her right.

So close… So very close…

The movement below stopped.

The neonate looked over her shoulder, and nearly squealed in fright as she saw the outline of a large head come out from under the roof.

She flattened herself, meaning to shift her scales to match the regular pattern of the reeds, straining with all of her being to make it perfect. Something slipped, and her skin hurt terribly like a sprain.

Overdid it.

Hide! Now!

She wriggled into the thatch, sliding under the top layer and immediately worrying about halving the ammount of reeds she was standing on. She could still see out, looking through a gap in the reeds. Her heart fluttering like a bird with a broken wing in her chest.

Lightning split the sky!

She winced.

Thunder shook the ground.

She nearly bolted as the handax reverberated slightly with the sound in her mouth.

But the neonate saw him there, his eyes squinted against the flash of light, his hiss of displeasure hidden in the roar of the heavens.

The world went dark and he didn’t move. She hoped against hope that the sky would stay dark. That she would be hidden for just a little bit longer. That this plan should work.

It has to.

In the pouring rain the neonate saw the silhouette turn back around, lightning flaring out and lighting up the back of Tok’s head for a moment before the thunder crashed. He moved out into the rain more fully, coming to his full height. He walked around the smoker, bending down behind it. Where she had climbed up. Eyes wide. Tongue flickering out.

Searching! He knows! Hurry! Her Instinct screamed.

She couldn’t wait, she had to act!

Bursting out from under the thatch she ran to the far side of the shelter.

Almost there!

She nearly fumbled the rope as she unwound it from her body, her fingers clumsy with the chill of the night and the rain. She held the coated end of the cordage in one hand, the slack in the other.

There was a loud crackle of dry reeds, and her foot sank through the thatch of the roof without any warning. She nearly squealed at the sudden drop, petrified that she was going to fall completely through.

Keep it together! Where is the Provider?! Her Instinct demanded, taking control.

She looked over her shoulder, and saw the Provider starting to turn. She felt like she would regurgitate the smoked meat. His eyes would be adjusted back to the dark again. The mud that still coated her was the wrong color to blend in, even if she had been laying flat.

I failed.

Survive!

She started to hiss, but found she couldn’t. There was something in her mouth. Hope surged within her.

Sacrifice!

She spat the hand axe into her free hand and hurled it as hard as she could into the brushes.

Her Instinct shrieked as it left her claws, the shaped stone humming slightly as it spun end over end into the night.

Surviving!

The half stone crashed through the underbrush beautifully, and from the sound it bounced once before continuing to tumble through the undergrowth.

It sounded like something running, like fleeing meat, like prey.

For a moment, Tok didn’t move, and she was worried that she had failed again.

Thum! Thum! Thum! Thum!

He turned and headed towards the treeline. Not taking a second look, she struggled to pull her leg out from the pole building without making more noise.

Faster! Come on!

She pulled, not worrying too much about the noise with the storm around her. She looked over towards the Provider, saw him lumbering out of his camp, searching the ground. Reaching for something.

The neonate turned back and rushed to the far side of the shelter, pulling away the thatch and laying on her belly. She had to make sure that it would look like an accident.

She hunched over the hole she had made and fed the wet rope through it, fat soaked tassel going down first.

The rain ran down her body, over her hands, and along the rope.

Her Instinct stirred, but she pushed back its concern as she fed the rope down as fast as she could. Ignoring the stream of water running along it.

It’ll land on the cookstone anyway. She would still have the fire.

It did.

With a horrific hiss and spattering spray of steam the water boiled instantly, sending specks of liquified fat high into the air.

They splatter everywhere, sizzling, even on her as high up as she was, burning her scales painfully.

Run! Her Instinct screeched.

She could see them, little amber droplets, and she could see them sailing back down towards the burning coals.

“Fuck.” She whispered.

Whumph!

The world went blazing yellow-crimson as the fat ignited. Her Instinct take hold of not just her mind, but it seemed like it clutched at time itself, with an imperious unyielding directive.

Live!

In slow motion the flame raced up towards her. Deadly fire. Searching to consume all.

She tore backwards, shoving with her hind legs as hard as she could to get away. The blade of her adrenaline cut both ways as it was like moving through thick mud. Aware of the danger and constrianed to the realities of how quickly she could move.

The neonate watched in horror as the pillar of flame blazed upwards towards the roof. She felt the heat flare closer and closer to her hand.

Just… a… bit… more…

Her body was clear of the hole.

Time suddenly reverted back to its regular pace as the blinding pillar of angry red flame shot up and out of the hole with a roar. She could hear the crackle of the thatch igniting, feel the growing heat beneath her.

Run! Now!

She tore along the thatch, ripping up pieces as she ran. Smelling the choking smoke. Fighting to live so she could learn from this blunder. She didn’t try anything fancy, running to the corner where she knew that there was a pole.

On fire.

I need to get to the ground.

Will hurt.

She leaped over the side and slid down it, hands running over glowing embers occasionally as she went.

She hissed as the heat seared her for an instant, fighting the pain and forcing herself to keep a grip until she could safely drop. She landed in the mud, gasping at the agony of her blistered hands. Staggering up she found a puddle and shoved her hands into it, cooling the blisters that made the pattern of her scales strange and unnatural looking.

She jumped as a terrible growl sounded from the forest, and scrabbled away. She spent as much time on all fours as she spent upright as she slipped and staggered in the slick mud.

The neonate got behind a large flat boulder that Tok had sunned himself on in better weather, desperate to get away, to show she was running away now. That she was done. She peaked around it, placing her throbbing hands against the cool stone.

Tok trampled forward, looking like he was going to try to put out the flames, but they had already engulfed the whole roof of the pole structure.

Enough of the underside had been dry that it had just spread out of control. The rain hissed as it dumped down onto the hot cookstone, the glow of the cookfire absent and replaced with a column of steam.

“Well played, little one.” His voice was deep, frustrated, with a hint of a growl in it. Or was that distant thunder?

She didn’t move, hiding behind the boulder and gasping. She couldn’t escape if he wanted to catch her, but she had backed off.

Surely he won’t seek reprisals?

All that theory. All the thinking. The planning and scheming within her own mind seemed so foolish at this point. She moved back behind the stone as he looked in her direction.

The next few moments would show if she had been right or not. Her jaw clenched.

I won’t die.

She wasn’t done fighting yet.