Failure is a better tool than success, even if it is more dangerous.
-From Aphorisms: 1:5
Time passed, and she spent a few days gathering resources to keep stocked.
When the neonate scouted out how many of the hatchlings still getting food from Tok remained, she found that more than half of them were just gone. She sliced off some choice cuts of tikabo in the process.
She looked at the remaining hatchlings as Tok got closer, still hidden from them in shadow. All were thin, vertebrae and ribs visible, and it drove her to take another slice.
One last push. See how they like it. They hadn’t figured out how to survive, had given up trying. They could feel her pain until they died. She had overcome such things.
Maybe it could end soon? Maybe she could be judged a person and live in the deepest parts of the Belly of the World, where it was warm.
Or go to the smoothskin lands, they are weak. Easy meat. And they had interesting things she could take from their clawless hands.
The little predator snared three more rous, and skewered a mawfrog with her blade as well. She cut out the mawfrog’s purple slime glands, storing them under her shelter away from where she slept, not wanting to smell them.
She hung the skins, dried the meat, roasted and ate the marrow, and continued to work on trying to make herself a bow. She wanted something ranged.
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No. Foolish daughter. You must master hand to hand to be ready for what is coming.
Shit, He’s back, and with Her. She tossed Her head, Her smooth green locks sloshing over one shoulder.
Maruc I don’t have all day. What is your plan then?
I watched Sallinnia inspect the Kiddo, moving closer like the rising tide. Maruc stood a little straighter, unable to see anyone as anything accept a conquest.
Oh, that one. I prefer the other. But she is the one you want to test?
Of course, if you would be so kind.
I’ll see what I can manage. She looked at me and smiled her sharky smile. What WE can manage. Maruc glared at me, and I tried to look as… un-rivalish as possible. This was going to be complicated.
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The little warrior experimented with pillarwood, still not managing to identify the kind of wood Bowmaker had used. It seemed to be going well, she had shaped it quickly enough with the ax and the knife, mimicking the form of the original but on a smaller scale. Even making the string and coating it with the mawfrog slime.
It looked good.
Just need to give it a test pull and see. The neonate started to pull on the sinew string.
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Enough of this farce. Maruc pushed forward and reached out.
Shucks. I wanted her to have that bow. He was right though. Sorry Kiddo.
I’ll leave you two boys to have at it, I have work to do.
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The bow cracked, then snapped, nearly hitting her in the face. Cursing and throwing the broken pieces into her ever-hungry fire, and saved the string.
Need to try something else. She didn’t want to just carve down the other bow, she liked having it as a template. Plus, she didn’t know if that would compromise it or not.
She also gathered more wood, more fibers, and more dried meat, with no end of the rain in sight.
Her little escapade laying the trap for Trapmaker had rekindled her yearning for the herb, and so she needed the distractions. She did shed though, which improved her mood.
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North child. North by northwest. Let me see you in action. Sallinnia whispered.
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I have gone south more times than not now. Maybe I should take the other northern exit? She was pretty sure that it should end up near her first shelter, the log.
I could harvest that, deny the others that resource.
Compete.
She headed down, praying once more before heading in that direction.
There was nothing particularly unique about that path apart from there being quite a few stairs leading down into the water.
The exit was another puzzle door, just with a different mechanism, one with sliding tiles. Making a pattern. That alone gave her a bit of a leg up insofar as solving it, and soon the tiles sunk into the proper place, the design that of a stylized wave.
When it shut behind her, she saw that the door also had a different pattern to get back in. This one was a stylized lightning bolt. When the door shut once more, the pattern reset to the same scrambled position as before, so she memorized the sequence. She’d have to do it quickly if she was ever caught and needed a quick escape.
Whoever made the temple must have stored a lot of food in there. Why else would the ways back be hidden or locked? Sure the shiny earthbone was pretty, but the real valuable things were resources, right?
Idiot.
It only took her a moment recognize she was not too far from the main path, and so it wasn’t too long before she was back at the log. Or rather, where it had been.
It was gone. Torn to pieces all the way to the dirt. She snapped her jaw before she thought about it.
Damn it! Damn them! Damn everything! She wanted to snarl, to bite someone. To kill and smash! She was sick of being too late, sick of sneaking around. Part of her knew if she stopped she would die, but by the Pantheon just once she would like a plan to go well.
Trapmaker, idiot.
She hissed. True, very true.
Fire. Shelter. Temple. Bowmaker. Snares. Her hindbrain continued.
She sighed and let go of her sudden rage.
Slash and Design. Same time.
Enough.
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You’d think she’d think to ask the question “Why did they suddenly become interested in grubs now?”. Oh well, I like that she calmed herself down. Don’t give up Kiddo. Oops, almost interrupted something.
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Rustling, crashing, snarling.
Combat that she hadn’t perceived until she calmed down.
She turned towards it, tongue flickering out.
It was close.
And coming closer!
As fast as she could the little hunter climbed the nearest tree, going as high as she dared before going still and blending in.
And not a moment too soon!
Like a raging red and black bolder a pair of snarling snapping Greenscales burst through the underbrush. The pair locked in a deadly struggle with one another.
Biter and Slash!
Both had grown colossal, Slash even bigger than the last time the neonate had seen him, and Biter rivalling him easily in size. Both were blanketed in scars.
Biter’s jaw had distended even more, long and broad, her neck coiling with powerful muscle. Each snap cracked like lightning, painfully loud.
Slash’s claws were even longer, longer than the black blade now. They gleamed as Lightning shot just overhead, bursting in the raging river behind them with another boom. Black and red patterns rippled towards them as he displayed his black and red.
He had a large gulper in his claws, and Biter was trying to contest his kill. And the neonate couldn’t look away, her Instinct silent.
The way they both fought was mesmerizing!
He underestimated me. No way I could have gotten away from him if he fought like this.
Blood leaked from a multitude of fresh wounds on each, neither slowing and neither willing to give up the gulper.
Slash kicked out with toe claws as deadly as the ones on his hands if not as long. His head jerked down and back, ripping into the fish and tearing out a chunk of flesh as he did so, swallowing it whole. Denying a piece mid fight.
Biter ducked low, shoving up on her opponent’s leg to push him off balance. She clearly needed to knock Slash down, get the fish between them, to get her jaws within range and not get sliced to ribbons.
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The neonate climbed through the trees, watching the fight, maneuvering to get the best vantage, trying to keep them both in sight.
Learn! Learn or die!
Slash snarled and lowered his tail, using it to stay upright, lashing out with the other foot. He scored a thin cut along Biter’s rippling arm. She spun, avoiding worse, and her jaw snapped, white teeth flashing for an instant.
Crunch!
The gulper’s spine was bitten in two!
But that freed Slash’s hands.
Letting the two halves drop, he jabbed and wheeled with his claws. A spiral of glinting death. His natural blades hunting his rival’s blood.
Biter ducked and blocked the attacks with forearms and her own punches and kicks. Accepting minor injuries to protect herself from severe ones.
Remember that. Her Instinct hissed as she silently swung from a vine to a closer branch, watching, waiting, scheming.
She snapped at Slash often, always getting him to pull back. He clearly knew that while she might lose an eye if he followed through, he would lose part of a limb at best.
SNAP! SNAP!
The little hunter couldn’t get over just how loud the big female’s jaws were. Like banging two rocks together.
She moved to a lower branch, needing to be closer. Needing to see.
Biter never managed to land a hit with her jaw, but watching from above, the neonate didn’t think that was the main way she was using it. She forced Slash to move in ways he clearly didn’t want, maneuvering him in ways that were advantageous to her. It let her open up a gash just over the male’s eye with her much shorter claws.
Footwork. Positioning. Learn! Her Instinct… knew these moves. She filed them away for her own practice.
In retaliation Slash scored another cut along Biter’s thigh. His claws whisked through the underbrush as easily as sharpened earthbone. Ferns and grass floating to the ground in his wake.
Sharper than last time. Some of the ferns stayed upright on their stalks before slowly floating down.
They were, together, a cascade of deadly violence.
And to the neonate’s horror, there was a part of her in the deepest recesses of her psyche, that wanted that for herself. To fight. To struggle. To…
Compete. It was a slow satisfied hiss from her Instinct.
The neonate watched as the pair moved even faster, trying and failing to learn like she had all those days ago.
They’d kill me. By accident. She couldn’t possibly challenge them. She wasn’t that fast… was she?
Thrive! She moved closer still. Moving down one layer of the canopy.
The fight continued.
Wait! She looked back.
The fish lay forgotten in the tempest of their mutual hate, in a ring of sliced undergrowth and deep three toed footprints.
Compete! Her Instinct crowed.
Understanding and purpose surged inside her.
Make the fight pointless for both!
Yes! Take! Mine!
I can do that!
The neonate slid down the far side of her tree, sneaking out from behind it. She grabbed both halves of the gulper, uncoiling her rope quickly. Glancing up to check on the two apexes.
Slash howled in pain. He staggered back, raking Biter’s face. She closed her eyes, her jaws clamped down firmly on his one forearm. Her jaw tightened and Slash howled again.
She’s going to rip it free! The little thief had the rope tied tight to the gulper’s tail.
Death roll! Her Instinct was screaming for it to happen. She pulled the rope up through the severed portion to come out the mouth of the fish.
Slash kicked out and then it was Biter’s turn to snarl in pain, letting go of his arm. She held her side, blood flowing freely from the now deep wound. She tied it in a loop and slung it over her shoulder. Backing away.
The apexes glared at each other. Both bleeding heavily.
The neonate held her breath, slipping into a bush. She had to get up into the tree.
Rain poured down all around them.
Lightning flashed. Thunder clapped. The pair panted in the rain. Almost there.
Then…
Slash took a step back, his coloring going paler, losing saturation. It wasn’t in fear or submission, but it was an acknowledgement of defeat. He kept backing away, not taking his eyes off of Biter.
Move! Quickly now!
She got to the tree, but the fish was too heavy to carry up into the canopy. Hide it! She dropped it and gathered the cut ferns and shrubs from Slash’s strikes. She would have scrubbed it with moss but she didn’t have time to climb up and back down again.
Come on, come on! She was glad that the skin was covered in a sort of mucus, it made sticking the vegetation on quite easy.
The neonate watched as Biter’s skin flared darker shades of red and she bellowed into the night. Her cry somehow louder than her snapping jaws.
The neonate was running through the underbrush with the fish.
Slowly, careful of her still bleeding wound, Biter limped around towards where the fish had been. She didn’t take her glaring eyes off of her opponent.
Faster! The neonate strained. She glanced back, panting, struggling with the weight, eyes wide because of the stress. This wasn’t good, Biter would just follow her tracks! Her Instinct gnashed, frustrated, but the neonate’s eyes widened.
Let her!
Slash didn’t take his eyes off Biter for long. It was just a moment. A glance. But Biter noticed the flash of his black and red around his eyes. She whirled around on her bad leg, roaring in outrage to see her prize stolen and the culprit still running.
Shit!
Biter charged forward, limping as fast as she could, and the neonate ran for the main path, hoping to have her tracks lost in the confusion of prints there. Slash had turned away, not helping either of them.
This was stupid this was stupid! What was she doing?! She just had to outpace the injured apex.
A stone zipped by her skull, crashing into a cypress trunk with enough force to gouge a hole in it. The next one smacked into the fish, bursting through and smacking into her back painfully.
Drop the fish! Her Instinct decreed. Hurt or not, if Biter hit her head the neonate would die.
But she had it, it was hers now. She would not be bullied again!
Crack! A stone hit a small bolder on the side of the path and shattered into buzzing shards that sprayed in every direction. One cut her shoulder.
Damn!
She dropped the fish and ran full speed into the deep undergrowth, climbing quickly, searching for safety. Miserable that she had needed to give up the prize. And my rope! That made it a net loss.
Nest! Find it! The snarl of her Instinct almost made her jump off of the branch as she watched Biter collect the gulper. Find better way to steal.
Scrubbing her body thoroughly with the scentmoss, already thinking. She thought of an idea. It wasn’t the worst, but she ran it through in her mind to let her Instinct contemplate it as well.
It grunted.
Quick as she could, running along branches and leaping through vines, she got back to the log entrance, inspecting all of the trees around it.
That one! An ancient cypress, with big tall knobby knees all around the base, projecting up like strange termite hills almost.
Need moss. She searched the area, and found the perfect strip, almost six feet wide and more than that long. Carefully so as not to tear it, she pealed it away, and dumped it on the far side of the old Cypress.
That should work nicely.
Survive.
She headed back to where Biter had been, hoping it would be easy to find her again. The apex was leaving a blood trail, and in spite of the rain it was easy enough to follow her tracks as well.
Once she found the other female again, the little predator silently trailed behind in the treetops, yellow eyes fixed on the big gulper that would be her prize.
Biter’s nest was to the west, separated from the main island by another flooded section that the trees made easy to cross. It was a conical thing, covered in layers and layers of branches and leaves to keep the weather out.
The neonate was surprised to see the other female wasn’t resting. She had treated her wounds with the herb, the green stained grinding stones visible in her hut. But instead of laying down, she was…
Why is she lifting stones and putting them back down?
Over and over, again and again. She only stopped to tend her fire, rotating the fish that was cooking. After some time she started practicing her swipes, bites, and steps. It was familiar to the little thief.
Repeating.
She was! Going through each move of the fight, thoughtful colors shimmering across her face. Biter’s jaw snapped again and was louder than the thunder.
The next part would be dangerous, but she had to take risks sometime. At least, a calculated one.
She slipped down to the ground, sneaking closer, hidden, blending, relying on Biter being distracted by her training. She drew the matte black blade.
She couldn’t hunt her rival. But she could do something else.
Quickly she slipped under Biter’s shelter, spearing one of the coals with the tip of her blade and flicking it at the apex.
She yowled as the skin on her tail sizzled and hissed, spinning to see the neonate cutting a hole in the roof so that the rain poured down onto the fire.
“Runt!” Biter barked, gnashing her jaws, charging forward, picking up a stone and hurling it at the neonate.
She ducked under it as it burst a hole in the back of the shelter and ran.
Time for that risk.
She flashed smug orange at one of the top apexes on the island, then locked in her own black and red. The simplified one that she had used with Slash.
Lightning flashed, splitting the sky.
Biter’s roar drowned out the thunder as she hobbled after the neonate, hurling another stone.
She sprinted away, picking up stones herself and throwing them as she did, still flashing smug orange from time to time. Weaving through the trees and around bushes, slowing down occasionally to let Biter catch up. Heading generally north, away from the Log Entrance.
Make her feel like she can get me!
Come on! Come on! She had to get far enough away. Lead the big female on a grand chase. She waited again. Where was Biter? Shit, did she give up?
Something was watching her. Ambush!
Dodge!
She neonate rolled!
Snap!
Even with a bad leg the leap that Biter made was impressive! Jaws snapping shut right next to the neonate’s shoulder even though she had rolled out of the way.
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I like that one.
I started to worry for the Kiddo.
No, not that one. A fine specimen, but not quite right. I like the little one more, even if she wouldn’t have been my choice. A long fingernail tapped full coral red lips.
I didn’t let my relief show. “Glad to know we aren’t ditching my pick.” I said dryly, knowing that if I didn’t seem a little petulant to those two they would take note of it. It tricked Maruc at least. Sallinnia eyed me though.
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The little warrior kicked Biter in the shin and the brute took it without even noticing it seemed. It was like kicking a stone! Her toes throbbed, and Biter grabbed the neonate’s ankle with a snarl.
“Weakling!”
Shit!
Biter threw her, but she managed to grab a low hanging vine and swing around a tree and land on her feet. Out of sight but not for long by the sound of things.
This was her chance! She blended and shot up into the canopy. Not looking at Biter, just rushing, sprinting, going as fast as she could though the trees in pure silence. Back to Biter’s shelter. Back to the fish.
It was there, wet, hanging over the smoldering fire. The rope was still though it. She grabbed it and sprinted away. Straight
Quickly! The sound of the other hatchling was getting louder. She could tell it was Biter because of the limp in the step.
She snatched up her prizes and drug them away, splashing through puddles. She kept low, heading towards the Log Entrance once more.
She heard Biter’s roar of rage, the snapping crashing of the undergrowth.
Getting closer!
She was glad she had planned for this. The neonate lifted the meat off of the ground, hopping up onto a log and running along it before leaping onto a stone behind her and to the left. She sprung to a root from there, and ran up it to slip behind the tree it belonged to. The one where she had left the blanket of moss.
Quick!
A giddy thrill filling her as she draped herself in the wide strip of moss, pretending to just be part of the tree.
Survive! Her Instinct snarled, not liking the situation.
She held still, listening, hearing the hitching footfalls reach the main path, waiting under the blanket of moss she had. She watched as the apex challenger walked by. Still growling in anger.
None of them know I took all the best pieces of meat. Me. The runt.
NOT A RUNT!
She almost dropped the fish. Rage boiled from her Instinct, no something more. Wrath.
She felt her eyes narrow. She’d show them. All of them.
Her sense of accomplishment sullied by her own internal slip, she slunk back to the Log Entrance. She had missed her chance to get the fish, but she had learned a lot, and had still gotten a free dinner at the expense of the other Greenscales.
The foul mood shifted to the back of her mind as she returned to the shelter. She let the feeling of glee wash over her instead. She didn’t eat the smoked meat this time, instead having some of the freshly roasted tail. It helped more of her satisfaction return. She was, in her own way, outsmarting the lot of them.
And I think I know what I need to do now.
She was done waiting. She was going to do her best to crank up the pressure on the others. All of them. She knew now that she could get away from the two biggest threats on the island.
Tomorrow. She decided, snuggling into her nest, thick and warm with some of the dried furs.
Tomorrow. Her Instinct agreed.
She slept well with a full belly that night. She would need all the rest she could get.