Peace is acquired through strife, and ever open eyes.

-From Aphorisms: 1:27

By nightfall, the neonate had a sizable pile of fibers to twist into cordage with quite a lot of bark to still separate into more. She placed the fibers all the way into the log, as far away from the damp and the rain as she could. The outer bark she laid down as more bedding under the scraps of cloth, which were soothing on her scales.

It made sleeping easier, not just in that her nest was softer, but also warmer form the insulation.

I shouldn't have shown off to Design. She realized while she was working, pealing another long thin strand the color of fresh bone away with her claws. Now he knows just how good I am at camouflage.

Her Instinct hissed thoughtfully in her mind.

I’ll lay low for a bit, process this material. There are grubs to eat, and snares to check. And while I do that I can look for a better nest, maybe mark other locations as decoys?

Her Instinct grunted. Agreed.

She picked up the idol to Haan-Kezk, resting it on her chest in the tight dark confines of her log. Using her knife she pricked her thumb, smearing it over the stylized brow of the snarling god.

“I will try to find more to offer when there is more to spare.” she said, not really sure of the ritual, she had been distracted by getting beaten and bitten at the time.

She plucked a grub from the wood, bursting it in her mouth before placing the little idol back in the notch she had carved.

It stared at her as she rolled over and went to sleep.

And that was her routine for the next moon cycle. Separating out the fibers into finer and finer strands, laying out the bark to pad out where she slept. She checked the snares, gathered herbs, and explored the area around her log, looking for the right place to build her new shelter, and any time she spent resting was spent making ever more cordage.

She snagged a mawfrog in a snare, dispatching it easily with her blade. The neonate used her knife to butcher it with care, climbing high up into a knobbly kneed cypress tree to eat the flesh with gusto.

She looked out over the island, listening to the rain as it rattled through the leaves. She watched the river, and something dark and huge moved under the muddy surface, its body darkening the muddy water as it passed. Big as Tok.

How does Fisher travel through that? She could see that even the massive crocodiles were shifting out of the way of the beast, whatever it was.

Carefully. Her Instinct hissed helpfully.

She shook her head, cracking her neck, and turned her attention back to the island. Many of the vines were in bloom up this high, flowers of all kinds open to the sky, enticing Apex butterflies, the only ones large enough to fly through the rain, to drink their nectar, as well as several hornet-birds.

She liked hornet birds.

Tiny, something like an inch long, the long beaked avians were incredibly aggressive, attacking much larger foes and driving them off. She could empathize with that.

The butterflies though, they were much much larger, almost two feet across. Bigger than the river emperor dragonflies. They were ponderously slow, huge wings flapping sluggishly as they moved through the air.

They were vibrant orange with shocking glossy black and bursts of teal the same color as the glowing shapes and runes her bag made, which signaled them as poisonous. She would have snatched at the slow moving insects otherwise.

The vines flowers were all kinds of shades. Purple with yellow, pink with dark storm cloud blue stripes, even orange with green spots. And all kinds of shapes. But it was the smell that was the best. Gentle, sweet, calming. She could sit here forev-

Crackew!

She leaped to her feet, staring upriver.

Was that thunder? It was some ways away judging by how it echoed.

There hadn't been any lightning…

Danger. Avoid.

How do you avoid lightning?

By being careful. Her Instinct once again showed just how helpful it could be.

She hissed, not concerned. It had happened quite some ways away after all.

The neonate took another bite of the mawfrog's muscular hind leg, and settled back into her moment of relative calm, though she did shift to looking at possible locations to live instead. Heading down after she had cracked the bones and sucked out the marrow. Scrubbing herself with scentmoss.

There were some places that looked promising at first glance, but on further inspection were less than desirable.

One such place was a hollow in between two large cut stones. She wouldn’t have to even really do much in the way of construction.

But it was within sight of one of the main paths, and as she was scouting it out Tok walked by with a single gulper. She looked at how big it was in reference to Tok's shoulder, eyes narrowing.

It isn't just that I am getting bigger, that fish is smaller. It seemed she had been right about the challenge. Tok was also increasing the pressure on all of them.

As the sounds of others eating and snarling at each other began, she gave up the location as a poor choice zipping up into the canopy before she was spotted.

There was also an unused ruin, which had a roof over a nice flat section of rectangular stones. Solid, spacious, and most of all dry.

Here might work. She could pile up brush and mud, hide the light of the fire from all sides.

No. Flooded before. Her Instinct hissed. She blinked and checked again.

Sure enough, the squashed look of the foliage growing in between the cracks of the placed stones showed that the area had been under water earlier.

Rain’s been picking up too. Anything low like this would be a hazard at best. So she abandoned the location as a poor one.

It’s also out in the open anyway.

Exposed, yes.

She wanted something that would be hidden and hard to get to if found. She didn’t need anyone to have an easy time paying her back for what she planned to do. And most importantly, somewhere that would not get flooded.

And so it went, with each spot being wrong in a different way.

Several of the really good ones were already occupied, though fortunately for her she was constantly scrubbing herself with the moss as she searched, and tried to remain in the canopy. There were also several derelict locations, but from the smell and the lack of useful resources they had been long ago picked over and were well known by the others.

It was only at the end of the cycle that she found the perfect place.

South of the log, closer to the flooded sections of the island, there was an enormous thicket of thorns growing on a tall hill. She appreciated it being on higher ground, not in any danger of flooding. Vines and overgrown brush were tangled in with the thorns, propping them up in places. She could see from the outside that there was also a great old tree at the center.

That would be a good vantage point.

Thorns, good for deterring entry.

Yes, I like it.

Plenty of moss, hide scent.

She grunted.

The neonate circled the brambles slowly, keeping an eye out for any signs of the others, either nearby or going into the thorns. She didn’t discover anything that made her think that.

She bent low, looking into a possible way into the warren. A constricted tunnel through the thorns. Tight squeezes that she would have to squeeze to get through.

Too tight for anyone but me. Her Instinct observed from her hands as she measured the entrance with them.

Deciding that there was no time like the present, she entered the thicket.

It was tight, cramped, the thorns snagging her scales at every turn.

She started to pant.

Lightning flashed.

I don't like this.

She moved faster as thunder rumbled, sounding like a growl. She just needed to get through. In her haste she got caught more often, the sharp thorns drawing blood. The smell making her more on edge. She had to get out. No time to think about it. No mental space to either.

Just do it quickly.

Out! Get out!

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She saw a brighter patch ahead and burst through, panting and falling into the mud. Staring up at the sky as she tried to get her wind back. It was a welcome sight.

Definitely not perfect. She sat up to examine the clearing at the center.

There was quite a bit of debris, fallen branches, rocks and stones, many of which were strangely square in shape, like others that she had seen.

More ruins were built here. Long ago. It was obvious, the stones were shaped, and nature had climbed on top of them.

While part of her was curious to investigate as it always was, to search for remnants, she knew that she needed to focus on the now.

You don’t have the privilege to get lost in reminiscences that aren’t even yours. Her Instinct snarled.

The tree, large enough that the highest branches poked out above the thorny overgrowth.

Then I'll see what the view is right now.

She climbed it, and found she could see the whole island. Marveling at it.

Could plan from here. Keep tabs on my rivals. Already she knew more than she did coming in. She could see that there were multiple pillars of smoke. Campfires. And she could see just where on the island they were.

Yes, good.

She thought about what she could see. There are also probably hidden fires, smokeless ones. The Provider’s fire was that way.

She wasn’t sure how to get to manage that, she guessed it had something to do with the heat of the fire. She knew it was possible though, and that she would have to if she wanted to stay hidden.

Here then.

Thrive. Her Instinct agreed.

She looked at the way she had come in, her clawed hands feeling at the cuts and scrapes she had gotten in her panic to get through the thorns.

Need to organize before I head back to the log.

There was a pause. Agreed. Her Instinct also disliked the idea of crawling back out the way she came in.

Something sensed her fear. Something malevolent from outside.

The neonate took a few hours to clear a space for her new base, shifting rocks into their own pile off to the side. She sorted through the wood next, tossing the spongy stuff next to the stones, and making a stack of the less rotten pieces like she had seen the Provider do with his firewood. Once she had a roof over it, it should dry nicely.

She paced out a space for her own pole building, using a claw to scratch in the dirt to mark out the footprint. The rain would wash it away by the time she brought in the materials, but drawing it out helped her plan.

She wanted to build it close to the tree. It would provide additional shelter from the wind and rain, and she hoped it might dissipate the smoke from her fire.

Excitement. Her Instinct hissed.

Finally, she was catching up with her to do list, getting things done that were long in waiting.

I will catch up and surpass the others. She hissed her determination. Once she got here she could start a fire, and start to cook things.

Thrive!

Eventually though, she ran out of things to do, and could not delay it any longer. She had to go back through the warren. She stared, trying to build up her nerve, and it was like the opening was spreading wide. The maw of some great beast that was to eat her.

The rain had picked up and lightning split the sky again, and that malevolent thing pounced! Suddenly she was back in the past. but a twisted version. The thing using her trauma to attack her spirit. Not the final strike. A wounding blow.

Claws burst through the vines, snatching at her. Mad snarling filled her ears. She huddled down, panting, frantic. One-eye’s claws burst through the overgrowth, hunting for her lifesblood, her liver, her lungs… her heart.

She glared at that thorn-toothed maw.

I will not be prey.

Adapt!

She forced herself to squeeze back in.

It wasn’t the tight space, she slept in a tight space. It wasn’t the vines either, though they made her think of pythons. Lightning flashed again and thunder cracked overhead.

She winced. The shadows. Just like then.

It was all of it at once.

A collage of terrors.

The tight space with so many ways in, the vines all around her, tangling around her like pythons, the occasional scratch of the thorns like claws hunting for her death. The smell of her own blood as the acidic fear built up inside.

All interbred into hideous horrible mutts of debilitating visions and memories.

Fight!

She wasn’t sure she could.

Fight now!

She snarled, and drug herself farther forward.

It didn’t get any better, but she didn’t have the luxury to try to get over it now.

Focus on what I want. She thought about the canopy. The gentle scents, the calming sights. Good food. It was all she could do.

She would have to get used to this eventually though, to fight this back. She couldn’t afford to abandon this place, it was too perfect.

And so, she fought the silent battle, struggling to prove she wasn’t prey within her own mind to the most important person.

Herself.

Panting as she clambered out, the neonate took a moment to rest up against the trunk of a tree on the other side of the thorns. Her skin matched the bark perfectly, her body straining with the stress of it, her tail becoming a root, her arms and legs becoming a burl.

The only thing that anyone would be able to see were her eyes, which were wide. She wanted to close them, but she couldn’t.

She needed to find the threats, the things that would maim her, kill her, eat her! She didn’t want to die! She wouldn’t. Not if she found the threats. They refused to manifest.

Overcome. Try. Her Instinct was… gentle? The impression of a hand pressing against her shoulder. A soft squeeze.

She snarled at the insult of her own mind. No time to be weak!

After taking a few moments to collect herself, waiting for the tension to fade as the rain really started to dump down once more.

It was a long time before she made her way back to the log. She moved incredibly slowly, sticking to the shadows where her black bladed knife best blended in. she constantly scanned the treetops and back the way she had come for anything that might be following her. She didn’t see, smell, hear, or feel anything to hint that she was being followed.

Stay vigilant, nonetheless.

When she got to her den she scrambled in after making completely sure that she had wiped her tracks clean to her satisfaction.

She wasn’t glad that she was back, she knew she would have to go back through that horrible trail again soon.

I will fight this!

She worried she was lying to herself as she rolled into a ball, clutching her tail tight as the storm raged on outside. Cautiously letting herself drift into sleep.

Snakes coiled around her.

No, they were vines around her neck.

No, thorns tearing her apart.

No! Snakes, their fangs sinking deep, injecting burning poison. Her scales crackled and crisped as they fried in her rendering fat.

A single massive orange eye opened right in front of her, glaring down as the world trembled.

“I will consume you! Yes! That will shut the voices up! Eat your flesh off your bones, let your screams drown them out.” One-eye snarled, ranting lighting split the sky, tearing it for a moment.

The black blade was in her hand, but it was too heavy, too large. It was sized for Tok’s hand! It fell to the ground, pinning her, sinking into the mud. Suddenly wrapped in many pelts and bones of everything he had killed. Everything she would kill. The skulls stared at her with empty sockets.

She couldn’t move! She had to fight!

I tried to help, but I couldn’t push it away. I’ve been locked up for too long. So, I called for help, relinquishing some of the claim I had on her. Sorry Kiddo, I’m a bit restrained at the moment.

The orange eye above burst and One-eye roared, the flesh melting away. His skull joined the others, one socket scratched by her infant claw, the other shattered by the matte black blade.

It rushed towards her with a demoniac hiss!

She strained to lift the matte black metal, getting the point up off the ground at least, until it was barely as long as her claw, useless because of how small it was. Small like she was. She would have to be culled from the brood.

One-eye was coming closer! Skeletal jaws snapping!

“No! I will live!” she screamed, and ran. It wasn’t rain coating her scales. It was too thick, the smell…

I know that smell.

She looked at her hands. Blood and cranial fluid stained them, and gory hail crawling with maggots bounced off of her body as she fled her rivals skull. A perversion of a hero’s burial.

She was permanently stained red by the blood. The reek of the infection permanently sinking into her scales. She couldn’t hide, couldn’t stay away, couldn’t choose to disengage from the struggle!

She tried to wipe her hands off, wanting that back, needing that hope for the end of this. Where was her Instinct? It wasn’t speaking to her. Trying to clean herself only made the blood spread as it started to glow in the dark. It stank, she stank, her bloody footprints reeked from yards away, she could smell them. Traces of her violent act against one of her fellows cursing her with the same fate.

“The smoothskins were cursed to lose their Instinct for their sin against the first genera.” Tok’s voice said, echoing back from all those months ago.

“I had no choice!” she screamed at the sky as horrible purple lightning laced across it. “He had to be culled! Please…”

“If the brood is weak, then cataclysm will be the outcome. A terminus to the outflow of life.” Tok’s voice was a crescendo. “Not just the brood, but all of Szez’tek Vooznal’s children. All life. Scaled and unscaled, flora and fauna,”

They’ll catch me! Kill me! I am unworthy!

She just wanted to run, to get away, to rest in peace without fear of nightmares or death in the night.

That life is not earned yet. Awaken.

“Hello?” She called, spinning.

Was that her Instinct? It sounded… different? Deeper, more resonant, wonderful and terrible in its purpose.

“What is happening?” The maggots swelled and burst their skins, becoming vipers! Venom dripped yellow from their horrible fangs.

I said awaken, last daughter! You carry the bloodline!

Bloodline? What bloodline? The snakes were getting closer, coiling, getting ready to strike. She had to do something. Pythons coiled around her ankles and wrists, holding her there. No!

Enough of this! The voice rumbled like a rock slide.

The serpents became mist! Light blasted her into particles, every nerve sizzling like fat in a fire, pain gouting through her. Agony! Pure agony! Her very soul was burning.

“N-no! I will fight!” She snarled, voice tiny against the onslaught. “I won't die here!”

DO AS I SAY! AWAKEN!

Bang!

She cracked her head on the roof of her log as she jerked awake. She rubbed at it, trembling. The little wooden idol had fallen from its place, resting on her chest. It made the still tender scar itch a little with its presence.

Her Instinct! Where?

It stirred, filling the front of her mind. It was there. Relief helped to decant the fear from her.

Leaves. Her Instinct said without its usual demanding tone. The leaves will help block the dreams.

N-no. She didn’t want more leaves.

She couldn’t keep using them like this. The neonate looked at the wooden idol for a moment in the dark, running a claw over the designs carved into it. Then she placed it back into its notch and rolled over, trying and failing utterly to go back to sleep.

Not until she gave in and chewed on a pinch of the herb, purposely swallowing all of the juice.