Always revert to predation.

-From Aphorisms: 6:1

The mawfrog croaked again, scanning the group. It closed its eyes. Throat swelling with muscle.

Splurk!

Its tongue shot out, grabbing a female hatchling with a wet sound and sucking her into a jaw that was a nightmare of teeth. All pointed backwards towards the throat.

She died with a squeal. The neonate saw her skull crumple, brains spurting into the amphibian’s mouth.

The others hissed, backing away, squeaking for help from the Provider. The mawfrog turned, and they fled to the underbrush.

Her stomach gurgled.

She looked out over the water, joining their squeaking. But the Provider wasn’t there. Where was he?

Feeding. Her Instinct hissed. Happy to have her stay in the tree. Away from danger. Something deep inside felt wrong about that though.

The mawfrog’s tongue shot out again, catching a male this time. He was swallowed whole. Frustration built in her. That sense of wrongness growing.

No, hide!

She shook her head, joints crackling back into place as she glared down at the beast. Her stomach rumbled again.

She was hungry.

That mawfrog was made of meat.

And it was not going to eat them all.

She squeaked. Then growled. Trying to find the sound she wanted. Squeaking again.

Then she found it.

She roared.

It was pitiful. Pathetic. But it was her battle cry. The first for any of them.

The others looked up, their confusion plain, and she roared again. Louder this time, glaring at the beast. She was hungry. They all were. And they all could get their own food right now!

Her Instinct caught on and shifted into her lungs, expanding them, forcing the sound from deep in her diaphragm. It thundered out of her as she found a vine, sliding down. Getting back to the ground and charging the beast.

Why were they waiting? Food was right in front of them.

She ran into the clearing.

Alone.

Pathetic roar lacking all menace. But not lacking conviction.

The mawfrog turned to face her. Its eyes closed.

Now! Her Instinct gnashed.

She zig zagged, dodging around the tongue, leaning into her speed. A strange joy filled her as she sprinted forward, even as dread at her stupidity grew.

She heard a collective hiss from the others. Could feel them watching her rush towards this mighty foe. Imagined their contempt.

Another roar. The biggest female there, her jaw massive and already muscular, rushed forward from the underbrush.

Another, and another. They all screeched defiance at the amphibian. The neonate roared in unison, relieved that they had joined her.

The mawfrog looked at the neonate, the stupid animal unaware of the danger it was in. Its eyes closed, and she leaped into the air as the tongue shot out under her, sticking to the dirt before retracting. She landed on the beast, biting into its rubbery hide viciously, wrenching back and forth and trying to tear into it. But it was too thick for her!

It croaked and shook, throwing her off. She started to scramble but it pinned her under a heavy warty forelimb. She yelped in pain. Scratching at it with tiny claws.

SNAP!

The big female’s jaws bit down onto the mawfrog’s leg, breaking the skin. Blood sprayed forth. Spattering onto the Neonate as the beast lifted its leg and tried to get away. She scrambled out from under it. She climbed up her broodmates back, stepping on her head to get even higher. Still Snarling.

The others swarmed the beast, slashing, biting, tearing. The beast kicked and tried to flee, leaping with powerful legs. She clung to its back as it shot forward almost five whole yards. Snarling and biting into the skin at the back of its neck.

Deathroll. Her Instinct demanded, and she spun. Using her whole body. Not letting go. The flesh tore free and more blood sprayed onto her face. She chewed and swallowed, biting again with her eyes closed against the blood.

The mawfrog squealed, starting to leap again, but the rest of the brood was already on it. Shredding, wrending, feeding while it still lived.

Thum! Thum!

She bit in again, tearing free another hunk.

Thum! Thum!

She registered the sound, but her ire was raging through her. She wiped her face and looked down. She could see bone.

Thum! Thum!

She snarled, and bit at it, tearing with her little claws. Its croak went high pitched and it rolled. Trying to rely on its bulk to squash her and the others so it could get away. She managed to leap off. The others managed to get out of the way.

Thum! Thum!

As a hoard they charged, snarling, snapping, growling. Little more than mouths with legs as they tore into the beast. The larger of them tore through the hide, making way for the smaller so they all could feed.

She found her way to its belly with the long clawed male. She pointed and he slashed, then she bit into the abdomen. Tearing.

Thum! Thum!

She didn’t have time for the sound now.

Others joined her, ripping, shredding, eating. The stomach of the mawfrog burst, and their nestmate splattered onto the ground, squeaking and alive. Joining the assault as the mawfrog keeled over.

The Provider burst through the underbrush, growling, and the pack squealed and fled from the sound. The neonate got knocked aside and fell, scrambling up. The last to leave.

Had they done wrong? Why was he angry?

She skidded to a halt behind a fern. The other hatchling that was there hissed and kicked her back out again.

The Provider was looking at the mawfrog though. Flipping it over with a massive claw.

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He sunk the claw into the beasts skull. Grunting.

He looked at her. Grunted again.

She didn’t waste her head start and rushed back to the beast. She didn’t have to wait for the others this time.

The whole hoard returned, and the squabbling over meat resumed. He had a still squirming snake in his other hand, already skinned, head removed. He tossed the squirming tube of muscle into his maw, chewing it thoroughly. Grunting in approval the whole time.

He spat that onto the ground as well, and they all swarmed it obligingly.

The neonate was finally full. Backing away to not be targeted by the others again. Licking the sweet blood off of her forelimbs before finding a space to tear into the chewed up snake as well. Happy to eat all she could. To gorge herself.

It was not to be, however. And not just for her.

The largest of the hatchlings all snapped and snarled at the smaller ones, which obviously included her.

The big jawed female gnashed at her, swinging a clenched fist and knocking the neonate down into the mud with a painful Thwack! She yelped, and scrambled back. Glaring. She had once again, gotten some food into her belly, but it wasn’t enough. She was still targeted because of her size.

She growled, but immediately backed away into the shadows as several of the larger hatchlings turned to look at her.

Think. Learn. Compete! Her Instinct insisted, shifting the position she perceived it into where the strange muscles were in her skin. On an impulse she flexed them.

Her scales, bright green and black in coloration, shifted into bluer hues, surprising her. She flexed her skin in a different way, and it shifted to red. Again, and she suddenly was darker, blending in with the foliage and shadows.

She explored this new ability. Guided by her Instinct, her hindbrain. It picked up how to replicate each transition without requiring a lot of thought. She practiced, focusing on getting the hue just right to best blend in, her whole body shifting to the most advantageous color.

How long she could hold the colors increased each time. She hissed in pleasure at her progress. It was as if the muscles in her skin were limbering up. The neonate knew that even with her Instinct, practice would be necessary for all things.

But she needed that food now.

Hissing quietly to herself, the neonate slid back into the shadows. Prowling around the side, moving towards the back of the meat.

Good! Learn! Adapt! Now eat!

She could feel someone watching her as she moved, glancing up. The Provider stared at her. A cicada buzzed in the background. He didn’t move, so she continued.

She got to the back of the mawfrog, shifting to be the same color as the sandy soil beneath her three toed feet.

Carefully, she got low, crawling forward on all fours.

The corpse shifted and shook as the others ate and fought over it.

When she got up next to it, she shifted to match its dark green color.

More! Her Instinct urged.

She strained harder, and parts of her shifted to match the brown speckles! Moving to perfectly mimic the beast. Her tongue flickered out, her mouth slowly opening. Drool dripped to the ground. She could smell the blood, she wanted to taste it again. She was next to the hole she had made killing it.

Feed!

She couldn’t hold back, and she ripped into the food, latching on and slashing with her claws as much as she yanked and pulled at the flesh. Ripping free gobbets so she could keep her head on a swivel. Her yellow eyes peeled for any that might want to try to pick on her.

Blood soaked her as she tore into the beast, slicing past the rubbery flesh to get to the gory pinkish meat with her claws before moving in to tear it free. She strained the muscles in her skin, her body turning pink, matching the muscle, adding red for blood, and a different brown to match the muddy ground.

One of her peers was getting closer. The big female with the jaws. She felt worry fill her, but need compelled her to keep eating, gorging, consuming as much as she could in barely chewed hunks.

Think!

What could she do? It didn’t seem like the big female could see her. But it wouldn’t be long before she would be able to smell her.

She spotted the male with the long claws circling around, slicing at the hind legs of the mawfrog.

Slowly, shifting her scales as she moved, she found a stone.

Good! Compete!

She waited for the big female to be looking away from her and then threw the rock. It bumped the back of the clawed male’s head. He spun with an angry hiss, seeing the big female and charging her.

She blinked and snarled back, rushing forward towards him.

The Neonate tore at the carcass with frantic zeal, trying to get in as much food as possible before any others showed up.

The pair sprung at each other, snarling as they squabbled. Their attacks drew blood in the form of a multitude of superficial cuts and bites. She shifted as she continued to stuff herself, her belly a little distended, focusing on the combat as she ate.

The pair were naturally suited for it, she could see. Jaws and claws flashed in the sun. They rolled in the dirt, snarling and whining in turn as they tried to determine dominance on their first day of survival.

After she had eaten as much as she possibly could, feeling a little nauseous, she scurried away from the carcass. She wanted to remain out of anyone’s focus. The neonate decided to stay close to the Provider. He wouldn’t protect her from the others, but maybe standing near him would signal she was done eating.

Good! Her Instinct hissed.

She dropped the camouflage, returning to her default greens, browns, and blacks. As she moved, she paused, noting that once again the Provider was evaluating her with his carmine gaze. She knew what it was now. He had seen her change to hide from the others.

She looked back at him.

He didn’t blink.

The Provider’s red eyes slid in their sockets to continue his inspection of her as she got closer to him. Different aspects of her Instinct warred with each other. She could have stood easily in his hand, and he would have no trouble at all crushing her as well.

He wouldn’t.

She knew that.

At the same time, she recognized a true predator, a monster of the swamp more than twenty times her size. As tall as the trees. Something that could kill and eat her like a snack without breaking a sweat. It was intimidating.

Instinctual knowledge won out though. The neonate eyed the Provider’s black scales, cocking her head before flexing. Her coloration shifted to match his, black as the Dark. She strained again, and matched the red coloration splashed across his throat. Something in those red eyes changed, the focus behind the look lessening before they slid to observe the horizon again.

He grunted.

Trepidation gone, and wanting to get a higher vantage point, she clambered up his massive arm. The rippling muscles and thick black scales made it easy to get up to his shoulder, providing places for her claws to get a grip. The food in her belly had already given her enough energy to make the climb.

Yes, height. Good. Her Instinct rumbled, content in her stomach now.

She sat, away from the others, who were starting to separate and curl up, ready to sleep. The meat had been almost completely devoured, not much left. Many of the smaller members looked hungry. Battered and bruised by their fellows. But not her. And that was what mattered.

Proved my worth. She let her tongue slide from her mouth, licking some of the blood from her snout.

Something in the air changed. A vibrant tapestry of scents.

Watch the others, learn their techniques. The little ones. Instinct pulled her yellow eyes down, flattening her body against the Protector’s shoulder.

As she watched she saw one rip and tear off several large chunks before running away from their pursuers, outrunning them. Another clambered up into the canopy with his food, climbing higher and higher until a branch broke under one of his pursuers, who had to grab a vine or fall to her death. A third was scooping into the hole the Provider had made, slurping up fatty brain tissue before some of the other larger hatchlings noticed and gave chase.

She took note of the fights as well. Watching with unblinking eyes. She would have to learn and learn quickly.

Survive. Or die.

She squeaked. Missing her egg.

After a while, things died down, and many of her peers took to sunning themselves. They squabbled over the best spots. She lucked out. They didn’t see that the Provider was an option, and a very good one at that. His black coloring radiated heat wonderfully. And so long as she maintained a similar coloring, so did she.

He had dozed off. His eyes still slightly open, but his long slow breaths were soothing. She gripped his scales with tiny claws. Feeling full and content. It wasn’t long before she was dozing on the back of the Provider. Saving her energy for the days to come. Her tongue flickered out.

The new cascade of scents was stronger.

It grew darker, and something cold splattered against her, making her jump, squeaking. The others were soon also squeaking. As a collective they all looked up, realizing that it was water falling from the sky.

Rain.

The others scrambled, hunting cover, squabbling over that as well. She didn’t rush. Observing. There was a section of the Provider sheltered from the rain under a tree. She moved there. Laying down on his bicep, which was still warm from the sun.

He grunted deeply again, his whole body vibrating under her.

The dark mass of his body kept her warm as the foliage kept her dry. The rumble of his grunting changed as the Provider opened his mouth. She didn’t understand the purpose right away. The neonate could tell there was more to this vocalization than just making complex sounds.

“Tok, hatchlings. My name is Tok, and you all will prove you are worthy of life, as was decreed of old, or you will die.”

It would not be long before she and the rest of the brood would understand it as language. It would only take them a few days under his tutelage.

And so ended the very first day of her life, the trials to prove she was worthy of it only just beginning.