Greenscales are also the most likely to ‘compete’ with their Provider. If caught in some trick, use discretion on any consequences. Such traits should be nurtured, if the execution is well done. If not, cull them.

-From Neonatum Provisae: 3:19-22

The neonate smelled it first, an enticing savory sweet aroma.

What is that? She shivered.

Drool dribbled from her chin, and as she tasted the air, her tongue flickering with spread tips, she found herself moving towards it. Whatever it was, it was enticing.

It was a new smell, but familiar. Like the whiptail bulbs, but not.

The neonate followed the smell, fighting back her distraction the whole while. She only suffered in ignorance for a little while though. She could feel her Instinct searching for the phrasing, feeling it strain in her back, like it was pulling something up out of thick clinging mud.

Cooking… meat… It sped up as it finally exposed the information. Can preserve. Smoke. Surplus. Hoard!

Another reason to get fire. She felt foolish for never considering that, for being ignorant of that possibility.

Take! Consume! Her Instinct snarled, then it whimpered almost immediately, realizing it was the Provider’s resources, the pair of impulses clashing against each other. Hide! Run! Consume! Yes! No… Food! Live! Run… Take!

The neonate hissed and tuned it out, needing to focus on her current task.

Then she heard it, the sound something akin to magic that pushed all her worries and thoughts about how to trick the Provider into teaching her the secret of fire.

Sizzling. Popping. A gentle crackle. Like the long slow contented exhale you gave when you stretched out on a hot rock, basking in the sun. More understanding pushed through the quagmire of her hindbrain.

Sizzling fat! Hot grease! Dripping unctuous morsels! Her Instinct moaned in anticipation from her stomach.

The neonate slunk through the trees, trailing drool as she went. She placed her hand axe into her mouth to let her use both hands. Unfortunately the tasty blood long since lapped up. The smells and sounds made her regret its absence.

She pulled up a fresh patch of the scentmoss, scrubbing herself thoroughly with it. Last thing she needed was for the wind to change and him to smell her.

She doubted any physical harm would come to her if he knew she was there, far from it.

But he isn’t going to let me put his fire out if he does. It would be considered him interfering if he did.

Won’t. Too honorable.

Part of her hoped that he would be away from his fire. That she could just dash in and dash out. But it was not meant to be. She could see him there, tending the fire as the meat cooked. Looking down on him from her vantage in the trees. It wasn’t a surprise, but it was frustrating all the same.

His colossal bulk looked a bit comical underneath the, for him, low roof of the hut for a moment as he sat up to feed the fire. She supposed that, with him being more than twenty-five feet tall, there were few places that he would look like he was the proper size in.

Learn. Her Instinct whispered.

There should be plenty to, even before learning how to make fire.

She looked to the roof of the pole building, seeing it was thatched with great bunches of the long leafy stems of whiptail reeds. They were tied together with cordage in bundles, then lashed down to the roof proper.

Her eyes shifted to the fire, wanting to learn as much as she could. And that’s when she saw the cooking stone, and even more saliva dripped from her mouth.

Her sharp predatory eyes locked onto the bubbling brown meat. The stone it cooked on shiny with grease, propped over the gleaming coals with smaller stones.

Hot rich fat. Delicious. She licked her chops and moved closer, keeping a weary eye on the Provider. Searching for any hint of him becoming alert to her presence while she also observed all she could.

The wood was stacked under the roof to keep it dry. And the open walls let the smoke dissipate easily in the wind, with the fire being far enough from the edge of the shelter so that the rain wouldn’t blow onto it.

Tok turned his head and inspected the food with a solitary red eye, blinking slowly once. He pointed the tip of his snout at it, sniffing, letting his bright blue tongue slide from between stygian scaled lips. It waved for a moment in the smoke and steam that rose from the fire before sliding back in from whence it came.

Lightning flashed far away. There was a dull rumble of thunder. The Provider contemplated.

Deftly, using just his claws and with the utmost care, hit flipped the meat over.

SSSSSSSSSSSSSS!

The neonate jerked in her hiding place, the sound of the fresh side hitting the hot stone loud and almost reptilian. It sounded like a beast was attacking the camp.

Her movement rustled the foliage, and she cursed at herself as she blended in as best she could, straining her skin to make it perfect.

Disappear!

Tok looked up, eyes fully open. Searching. The usual lazy demeanor replaced with a deadly focus that made her want to cut her losses and run.

Wonderful, now he knows something is here.

But not what. Patience. Take care.

Trying to ignore her pounding bounding heart, she held still, her own eyes almost completely closed. The neonate shifted as the wind gusted, using the movement of the ferns to get deeper in amongst them. She didn’t dare to move more than that as he scanned the tree line where she was hidden.

His tongue slid out, bright blue, but she had made sure to face the wind as she had approached, and with the fresh moss her scent was masked anyway.

The wind gusted, and she glanced at the meat and quickly looked away as it sent her Instinct into a frenzy. She shoved it back to the back of her mind again, fighting back the urge to just run in with no plan.

This is going to be difficult enough to figure out as it is, I can’t distract myself as well!

The Provider looked back down, and she felt the weight of that searching gaze lift from her shoulders. Some of the fat leaked off of the flat stone into the fire and flared into flame, making her jerk in surprise again, though this time she managed not to disturb the underbrush.

Thunder rumbled, the cold rain bouncing off of her scales as she slowly crouched, circling around. Looking for a better angle to approach.

How to put out that fire…

Her Instinct grunted, also contemplating.

I’ll never put out the fire down here. But maybe… She looked up at the roof. Being above it all had helped when it had been Ropemaker’s secrets she had stolen. Maybe it would be the same here?

Need to at least make a hole in that roof to put the fire out. But how would she do that and have it not be obvious that she was the culprit?

Won’t let you stay otherwise. Her Instinct hissed.

Tok turned his head again, looking closely at the meat, flipping it one last time. The final side of the triangular piece of meat hissed and sizzled, almost as if in protest to getting its turn cooking last.

She didn’t need Instincts garbled instructions to know to move now. Taking her time, the neonate started by moving away from the camp first. Circling. Looking for a stealthy way up as she shifted left. It seemed like the best option, the underbrush got much closer to his camp from that direction. Plus, Tok was facing away, leaning on one side, head propped in his hand, elbow in a rut by the fire.

He'll not see me.

As she took her time, stepping over a dead branch and through some green grass, she found she had time to ruminate. And with the smell and sound of food right in front of her, that made for only one topic she wanted to ruminate on.

This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source.

Would it be alright to steal from the Provider?

No! Death! Live! Her Instinct was quick to reply.

But, if I could, a direct confrontation, a direct competition, with the other broodmates would be best?

Yes! Compete! Survive!

But that would have gotten me killed at this point because of… She struggled to admit the truth. Because of my smaller size and lesser physical abilities.

No! Live! Adapt!

Exactly, to live, to adapt, I need to do anything that I can to succeed at this trial.

If she took from the Provider, stole from him, he wasn’t interfering, she was proving that she could survive. Even if I had to be the tiniest bit competitive with him.

Her Instinct grew quiet, thoughtful in its own strange impulsive way.

Adapt… her Instinct hissed, still irked that she had manipulated its impulsive drives so easily. Live. It was almost a rebuttal from her hindbrain.

That was fair. She didn’t plan or want to take anything physical from Tok. Just force him to show her the process. It just seemed like a good thing to suss out before she was in the middle of all of it. It wasn’t too far of a logical leap to justify putting his fire out.

Right?

Adapt, compete. The response was firmer this time.

The clearing was full of stumps, the only remains of trees left.

He cleared them to have better visibility. She wasn’t sure if she liked the tradeoff of that though. It made it quite obvious where you were, though it would let you see anyone trying to get close.

With that monster about, I feel like I would want to do the opposite of this. Hide, instead of take away the ability to hide.

Distraction.

The neonate slid a little in the mud, almost falling into a silt filled puddle. She clamped her jaws shut to keep herself from squeaking.

Last thing I need is to make a noise, squeak or splash. It was only when she had regained her footing, circumventing the muddy depressions that she saw what they were.

Footprints.

The Provider’s massive footsteps.

Looking at the footsteps, the holes in the soil now filled. A mark of where he had been before. Traveling to gather resources.

Not just that. New. Rain.

True… it must be he is searching to find that monster still. The one that had killed the other hatchlings out of turn. The one hunting them all. She remembered the death of the hatchling. The waste of it. The brutality. She had to force herself not to freeze up in that moment.

Something tickled in the back of her mind.

The grave… I whispered into her mind, giving her a nudge in the right direction. I couldn’t help grinning. She had impressed me after all.

She thought it was her Instinct, not realizing that I had spoken actual words yet.

She glared, and almost hissed at herself.

Idiot, now I need to go back. Couldn’t think to remember that lesson sooner?

Her Instinct didn’t respond.

Tok said heroes were given a burial. Stripped of flesh, but not of possessions.

There are resources under that skull! From outside the island. Maybe from outside the swamp!

She would have to return after this. Food, tools, and other needful things deemed important by someone who had already passed their trial might be buried in that dirt.

Treasure… Her Instinct hissed, dripping with avarice. Mine!

She pondered the word treasure, admiring its symmetry in her mind. The greed in her forebrain matching that of her Instinct. Mine. But first, fire. She couldn’t risk missing that lesson, no matter what was at the grave.

She got back to the edge of the camp just in time to see Tok’s massive jaws take in the still steaming flank of meat in one bite. The gleaming ivory of his teeth glinted in another flash of lightning. Her mouth was watering uncontrollably again, forcing her to wipe it and look away as the thunder boomed off in the distance to the south.

The neonate stepped over a twig, using a stone to get up out of the mud and avoid a patch of brush as well. A thought occurred to her, something that could be a good distraction from the scents and smells.

If I am supposed to survive-

Yes! Live! Her Instinct almost cut the thought off.

Then that would mean that any attack against me justified any action I take to defend herself.

Yes.

She hopped to a fallen log, scampering silently along it before leaping down onto another stone. Including lethal force.

Live, idiot.

Against anything?

Thrive!

Or anyone..?

Yes! Her Instinct didn’t hesitate.

But what about what Tok said?

Her Instinct snorted from inside her arms, giving the impression of them being crossed. A thing has given up being brood. Cull.

It made sense. If she was attacked by the monster, whoever it was, she was perfectly justified in killing it. But there was still some part of her that didn’t like that idea.

Killing to live is life. Lies otherwise. Such thoughts kill self.

That doesn’t mean I shouldn’t be thoughtful about it when I can afford it.

No thinking. Kill. Hunt. Dominate.

In the case of this monster that is true.

She no longer had time to debate herself, she had gotten close enough that she needed all of her attention once more. She inspected the camp. Tok had laid back down, his eyes half lidded. His large bright blue tongue slid out lazily, the twin forks spreading wide and tasting the air.

Now that she was closer to the shelter, which was perpendicular to her approach, she got a better view of it. Blinking away the occasional raindrop.

Green wood. Green thatch. He made this recently.

Monsoon season. Her Instinct chimed in. It is early.

Early?

One whole cycle.

A whole moon cycle. Almost two score days. She felt concern build inside her.

Ignore, focus on the now. Her Instinct chided, and the neonate mentally shook herself.

Under the reed thatched roof there was also a strange structure made of… she wasn’t sure.

They looked to be made of wood, but she had never seen trees grow in such square shapes. Bent into curves, but not round like a branch or limb. And held together somehow in a way she couldn’t see. Almost making a pair of triangular shapes, pointed towards the sky, leaning into each other. There was no bark to speak of, and the material was striped in interesting ways.

It looked like Tok had punched multiple holes in each of the objects with his claws.

And what she could see inside the pair looked to be stained black. Mentally she nudged her Instinct and she could feel it grumble as it shifted focus.

Boats. Travel on water with them. It hissed to her, almost a snarl of impatience.

She felt tired from the strain, and felt her Instinct give up the conundrum before she even asked about the holes.

Cold. Focus. Thoughts.

The plan needed to be executed as soon as possible, she was starting to forget some of it. She needed to put the fire out, but she didn’t want to directly compete with the Provider.

He’d just kill me.

Yes.

None of them could stand against the Provider. Also, the time spent recovering near him had…

The quiet. The warmth. The calmness.

She wasn’t sure. She didn’t have a word for it. Regardless, the goal was to attack the fire, so she would focus on that.

Water, her Instinct provided helpfully, flames need to breathe.

She looked at the thatched roof. Expose it to the elements!

Her Instinct grunted.

How do I keep him from just taking back the reeds before the fire goes out? Her eyes landed on the fire again.

Burn it. Burn the thatch!

Yes! Lime yellow glee flowed from her Instinct.

Get the fuel wet too, teach me how to find dry tinder. This was a good plan!

Silently she slunk forward, having to wade into a deep puddle to get where she needed to be. The chill of it made her body ache again for the sun. For warmth and lazy days chewing the herb that she had never truly known, never truly earned.

Tok shifted positions, sitting up and scooting over, reaching for something.

It was only when she was halfway towards one of the poles that the actual scale of the structure just started to impose itself on her.

Shit. She had overlooked a key step of her plan. She stopped behind a once smashed bush, the cold water about her knees and falling from the sky urging her on. But the question remained.

How am I going to light the thatch on fire without being seen?

She started to turn around, but noticed Tok’s new position.

He’ll see me if I try to get away. And I can’t just stand here, either he’ll spot me or I’ll become too chilled to move and die.

She’d have to think on the fly. She was about too thirds of the way to the shelter, and she let her tongue slide out as she tried to think.

She felt her eyes widen. She could smell herself. All the water she was wading through must have washed the moss application away.

Her Instinct summed up the situation poetically.

Fuck…