\|/ Turn 46, dark
I've made my sand bed, and, as expected, Mik doesn't understand. Too bad!
There's more rustling around the tent, but it's probably not actually dangerous.
This early light I woke up first. I wasn't sick and I wasn't feeling hungry, so the wood must've actually been edible. I have no idea how a sensible species sees a tree and thinks that its bark looks tasty, but I guess I found it. Another Scale first; eat a tree.
After my usual stretch I looked over to see whether Mik was awake.
Fortunately, it wasn't. Mik was dead asleep, slumped against a wall of the tent. Its right hand was on its hatchet, and there was a sharpened spike in its lap. It managed to make a few more spikes that were placed next to it before it fell asleep. Though at that moment, it was snoring with its mouth agape.
I just had to sketch Mik in that position, for material to make fun of it later. It looked hilarious, but I was glad Mik was actually sleeping.
I went over to it and moved the hatchet out of its hand and the spike off to the side. I didn't want Mik to impale itself if it jolted awake or something. I took its journal from the ground, opened the last blank page and wrote "Maya lake". Just to make sure, I also wrote "big water" next to it. I wasn't sure if I had written "lake" to Mik before.
I left my journal, took my spear and started walking towards the entrance of the tent.
I saw something in the corner of my eye that made me jump back in panic.
The little being was on its back near the entrance, still breathing in its weird way. I had completely forgotten about it when I woke up.
"Oh, right." I whispered to myself.
What to do with you? I wondered, crouching over the thing.
I was going to go get food, and it really didn't seem caloric, but putting it back at the lake would be a waste. I thought about naming it, but that would make me depressed if we ever did have to eat it out of desperation. At the same time, keeping it flipped in the tent felt too cruel.
Despite myself, I thought of a name for it. The thought just came across my mind, and it was too good to throw away.
"Squirmy." I whispered, tickling it. The little legs moved around.
Oh I am going to hate myself for naming it, aren't I?
I was already feeling grief for keeping Squirmy on its shell for so long.
I'm an idiot.
I looked around for a way for Squirmy to be flipped upright safely. I didn't want it climbing onto Mik or burning itself on the embers.
I started digging a hole with my claws. The feeling was dreadful, with dirt getting between my claws and scales. I had to stop after a few moments; I couldn't do it. Vera wouldn't have a problem with something like that, but I wasn't Vera.
I improvised by using my tailtip. It was flat enough to be used as a very improvised shovel. I didn't make that big of a hole, but it was enough so Squirmy couldn't climb out.
I put Squirmy in the hole, with its legs facing the ground. It immediately started walking around, but it didn't manage to climb the sides.
What do you even eat?
Squirmy had the holes facing the ground, but I couldn't be sure if it needed leaves or something. I took a bit of sand into my hands and put it into the hole next to Squirmy. It went onto the sand and walked around, somewhat buried.
So, a filter feeder probably.
At least that would work with my idea of making myself a sand bed. I'd just have to bring extra for Squirmy. I checked the bowls of water Mik had used, and, sure enough, there were a few drops of water in one. I poured it onto Squirmy, hoping that would be enough for it. Squirmy didn't seem to mind it.
I snapped out of my distraction with Squirmy. Mik and I also had to eat, and I didn't have the entire turn to get another egg.
I grabbed my spear again and went outside.
When I got out of the tent, I froze.
Through light fog, I could see that there were more tracks, but now instead of the tracks being behind the bush, they were just outside and around the tent.
"Oh Suns…" I gasped.
I crouched and looked around to see if any hunters were there. I couldn't taste anything unusual in the air, and it was quiet aside from the singing. The grass and bushes were damp as I sneaked around, though I didn't remember hearing rain last dark. I likely tuned it out, and the rain hid the sounds of the hunters. There wasn't any new blood on the spikes and the tent wasn't damaged.
After making sure that there wasn't anything there, I made my way towards the lake. Paranoid searching wouldn't help us if we were starving.
As I walked along the path, I saw that it had started growing blocked again. I had to dodge new fungal vines and push bushes that had grown towards the path again.
I was focused on thinking about the hunters, however. They were closer now, literally surrounding the tent in the night, but they hadn't attacked.
Are they even hunters?
I couldn't guarantee that they were the ones to have killed the second swimmer. The swimmer was already injured because of me, with its wing getting a horrible infection. I loathed remembering the feeling of it hitting its wing on my back thorns.
I'm not her. I reminded myself.
…
I continued thinking about what the hunters were doing.
Maybe they're scavengers?
Predatory animals would have left carcasses around, but aside from the swimmer; there was nothing. It felt more likely that the 'hunters' were just sleeping near our tent and scavenging elsewhere.
Satisfied with that answer for now, I buried the thoughts about the swimmer and continued towards the lake.
I got to Shilka. I passed through after the usual "Hi" to the bush.
As I got closer to the lake, I made extra sure to notice when I was near the water edge.
There was fog enveloping the lake and surrounding area. Not as heavy as when I took an egg the first time, but better than nothing. I went to the left side of the lake, making sure not to make too much noise.
When I got to the screechers' nesting area, I dropped down on all fours and started crawling. Mud and grass got stuck on my thorns and tail, making me feel utterly disgusting. I put the spear on my back, between two thorns, so I could use all of my hands.
I almost screamed when I took the first step. My left arm immediately exploded with pain when weight was put on it, but I managed to hold myself back. I had to put more weight on the right side of my body, which made balancing awkward and forced my tail to work overtime to keep myself from tipping over.
I crawled around the now familiar layout. One of the nests I passed by had a hatched egg. The thought of a tiny screecher felt adorable, but the thought of me taking away such life by eating the eggs was louder. I forced myself to focus on crawling instead of thinking.
I went more leftward this time, trying to find new nests. I passed by two screechers sleeping in a nest. One had its head draped over the other and was making frilling noises. Honestly, I felt jealous; I missed contact with other Scale.
Then, I found a less-than-ideal situation. There was a screecher in a nest, laying over some eggs. One of the large eggs was behind it instead of under it.
I looked around, hoping to see something better, but all the other nests were either empty or had screechers in them. This was the only one I could see with an egg sticking out.
Damn it all.
I slowly put my spear down in the mud. Then, I took a deep breath and crawled towards the nest.
After a few moments, I got next to it. It was breathing deeply, with its four eyes closed. I breathed as lightly as I possibly could.
I slowly sat down and started pulling the egg out.
Then, I brushed the screechers cloak with my arm.
But the large being kept sleeping.
After a few more moments, I managed to get the egg out. I internally thanked the Suns and turned back to my spear.
But I quickly realized I couldn't crawl while holding the egg. The egg was too heavy to hold with my left arm, and my left arm couldn't support my weight if my right was holding it. I internally cursed for doing such a stupid thing to myself.
I lay on my back, my thorns sinking into the mud, and started pushing myself through it. I used my legs and right arm to push myself, while my left arm held onto the egg that was balanced on my stomach.
Every moment of doing it was despicable. I felt my thorns get clogged with mud. It felt suffocating, even though I didn't breathe through them. Despite not having them anymore, I felt my lower back thorns get clogged in the mud as well.
Then, something approached me. I didn't notice until it was too late.
A hatchling screecher came up to my right arm. I stopped moving and held my breath.
It was very young, about half of my height. The four eyes watched me intensely. If it made any panicked vocalization, I would be torn apart in moments.
The hatchling got closer and started hitting my arm with its chitinous snout. It held its four wings open to keep balance, though it swayed with every hit. It kept making a little clacking noise when its snout hit my scales.
I looked above myself and saw my spear. It was within reach.
I started reaching for the spear with my left arm, bringing it above the pain threshold.
The pain was extreme, and I had to breathe out through gritted teeth. I tried making as little noise as possible, but the screecher took a few steps back.
I managed to grab it after a few moments in pure agony. I quickly brought the spear down to my side.
The hatchling stared at me through the entire process. It hadn't made any noise except for a few frills.
I slowly turned the spear towards the screecher.
Then, the screecher hatchling shook off once and jumped on me, in front of the egg.
The little screecher looked around and tapped me as it walked over my chest. It was incredibly light, and it still had the taste of a hatchling.
I have to.
I have to.
I have to.
I kept trying to convince myself to do it. If this thing made so much as a sound, I would be dead. I heard the insane me laughing, the noise echoing in my skull as the world narrowed to the screecher. My left arm shook as I brought the spear up.
But I couldn't. I physically couldn't bring myself to do it. I put my arm and spear down.
The hatchling, oblivious, gently tapped the egg with its chitinous snout. Then, it walked up to my face and tapped my snout. It looked like it was tasting the air without actually doing it.
It backed off and nested on my stomach, contently closing its eyes.
I couldn't comprehend what was happening.
After a few moments of disbelief, I gently titled my body to the left, trying to nudge it off. It protested, changing its position so it could stay on top of me.
Please, for the love of everything warm, leave!
I managed to get it off, the little screecher fluttering off of my chest. It cooed once and ran off to another sleeping screecher with a silly gait.
I took a few deep, desperate breaths; I had to get out of there before it came back.
I slowly got up and started walking away, taking the same path I took to get there. Mud caked my scales at that point. I crouched the rest of the way, holding my spear with my left hand and helping my right hand hold the heavy egg.
After a few spans, I managed to get out of the screecher nest.
"Holy Suns." I gasped out, falling to my knees. I almost killed a damn hatchling.
But I survived, and the insane me hadn't taken over.
I ran off towards Shlika a few moments later. I didn't hear the screechers on the way there, meaning the parent didn't notice the missing egg.
"Shlika, I need to hide something." I hissed to the bush. It opened up the usual path, and I left the egg off to the side and went back towards the lake. I had to clean off the mud before I could do anything.
The fog was clearing at that point; It wasn't quite midlight, but it was approaching that time. Mik still hadn't come to the lake.
I got to the shore on the right side of the lake and lay down in the warm sand. I rolled around in it, getting all the mud off. It wasn't my usual treatment, lacking the oils I would use, but it felt so good.
I filled my pockets up with more sand and made my way back to Shlika.
"Just let me get to the tent, please." Shlika opened as usual. I was utterly exhausted and overstimulated.
As I made my way back to the tent I couldn't stop thinking about the hatchling.
I was so close to killing it. It felt like I had no other choice.
But if I killed it, I would have internally died. I passed many boundaries I thought I would never cross in my life, back when it was normal, but this would've been too far gone.
"We both lived…" I had to keep telling myself on the way back.
At about midlight, I got back to the tent. I didn't see or taste anything out of the ordinary.
When I went inside to leave the egg, I saw that Mik was still snoring.
"When did you fall asleep?" I whispered to it in disbelief, leaving the egg and my spear by the entrance. Afterwards, I checked up on Squirmy.
Squirmy was happy in its little habitat. Well, I couldn't gauge whether it was happy, but it was moving around. I took the old sand out with my hands and poured some new sand in. Then, I poured the rest of the sand onto my bed.
It wasn't anything impressive yet, but there was a nice layer of sand I could rest on. I was genuinely excited to see it grow. It was becoming the highlight of my crash, since I didn't have a sand bed on the ship.
Afterwards, I went outside. I took my spear and put it down next to my usual lightbathing rock, flattening myself on it.
I looked at the tracks around the tent.
They would've attacked us by now. I convinced myself, slowly falling asleep.
I felt a tap on my tailtip. I woke up to see Mik standing in front of me, smiling.
"Finally woke up?" I asked sarcastically. It was past midlight at that point.
Mik showed me its open journal.
It wrote "Food", tapped it a few times and smiled at me. I smiled back. At least Mik acknowledged hard work.
Mik then flipped the page to show a drawing. It was Squirmy in its hole. It was surprisingly accurate, seeing Squirmy is quite simple to draw from top down.
It laughed lightly as it tapped the drawing.
I couldn't help but laugh a bit as well. In hindsight, the habitat is quite silly.
Mik put its journal next to me and sat down in the shade next to its rock. It took the sling off and moved its left arm around without help from its right. Funnily enough, it was looking at me the entire time, waiting for praise. I smiled at it, still sleepy on my rock.
It put the sling back on a few moments later and wrote "Big water lake?" in its journal.
I smiled at it, getting up and stretching.
We both went towards the tent, but Mik stopped abruptly. It stared at the many tracks, tasting of fear.
I wrote "Not monster" on the ground.
Mik wrote "Is?" on the ground.
I scribbled it out and wrote "Not monster, no eat Maya" on the ground. Mik stared at it for a few moments and calmed down slightly. We went to the tent.
This time, I left my spear in the tent. I needed both of my arms for my plan. Mik was always carrying its hatchet, so I wasn't too worried about defending ourselves.
I draped my cloak over my right arm and handed Mik the clean bowls. Mik looked slightly confused at me taking my cloak but didn't protest. It left its journal next to its cloak, and we made our way out of the tent.
We took the usual path towards the lake. Mik remember to crouch when we got to Shlika this time, so it all passed quickly. Fortunately, Mik was much less paranoid than when it hadn't slept, so it was actually pleasant to be around. I noticed it moving its left arm a few times during the trip, exercising the thin muscles.
When we got to the lake, Mik filled the bowls up as usual. It left them there, and we both went to the right side of the lake.
It was early late light when we got to the shore. I left my cloak to the side and immediately dove into the sand. Mik didn't harass trees this time, instead joining me.
But of course, it didn't appreciate the sand. No, it wanted to go into the death-water.
Mik left its hatchet next to me and took off its shirt. I wasn't sure whether to look away or at it, not wanting to insult it.
I saw what underneath Mik's shirt for the first time. It was definitely… something.
Mik had more growths on its body, or at least the front side of it. It was far thinner than its head, but more than its arm and legs. Then, on its chest there were two… discs? Small pinkish disks, symmetrically placed on its chest. No science fiction could've prepared me for that.
Mik then went towards the water. I wanted to try and stop it, but reasoned that Mik knew whether it would survive or not.
It entered the water normally. Its bare flesh was somehow waterproof, despite the holes on the sides of its head. My best guess was that those were its auditory organs, but who knew. Mik casually proved that being waterproof was possible without scales.
Oh would a Gatorid lose their minds if they saw this.
Mik didn't go too deep into the water, mostly just walking around in the shallow part, occasionally dipping its head under. It held the middle of not-snout when it did that. That part didn't seem waterproof, at least.
I relaxed a bit, trying not to stare at Mik too much. Were it not rude and if I had my journal, I would've been frantically writing what Mik was doing. I just buried myself in the sand and glanced at it every now and again. Mik truly enjoyed the water, which was quite interesting. I wondered how fast it could swim, since it lacked a tail and its fingers weren't webbed.
Maybe it knows how to hunt pisca…
As the red dwarf started setting, Mik got out of the water and dried off next to me. Its flesh dried quickly, but the growths seemed to retain more moisture. It annoyed me with the fact that it was making the perfect sand wet, but I didn't feel like telling it to move away. Its air taste was less potent after being in the water, at least.
After some time, Mik put its shirt back on and tapped my tailtip. It was time to go back to the tent.
However, Mik wasn't ready for my plan.
I took my cloak and put it in the sand, sweeping as much sand on top of it as I could. Mik stared at me in confusion.
Then, I took the corners and held them up.
It was quite heavy, and leaking sand in places, but I managed to carry it. I was mostly using my right arm, with my left offering little help. I started the trip back to the tent, with Mik staring at me from its position.
Mik caught up a few moments later, flailing its arm in front of me and the improvised bag. I couldn't really explain what I was doing, so I just ignored it, smiling at it a few times. Mik looked exasperated from my lack of explanation.
Mik took the water bowls along the way and we walked down the path.
We got to the tent just as the last of the light was setting. I went first, going over to my little heap of sand. Mik put the bowls next to the campfire and started working on it.
I dumped the sand onto the heap. It was quite a sizeable amount, and I was extremely happy. I spread it out and threw myself onto the sand bed, throwing my cloak to the side.
Now this is life.
When Mik saw what I had done, it started chuckling. Mik then fell into a full-blown laugh. I ignored it, reveling in pure comfort, burying my snout into the sand. Poor Mik didn't know what it was missing out on.
The first thing I'm teaching its species if I ever meet it, is the beauty of a sand bed.
After it started the fire, Mik tapped my tail. I unburied myself to see what it wanted.
Mik tapped the egg I brought.
Oh, right.
I still wasn't feeling very hungry. The wood really was extremely caloric.
I got up and went over to Mik, holding the egg so it could crack the top. We both peered inside when it did.
It was the usual colors, though this time it had red veins going from the central yolk. Mik looked worried while it was looking at the egg.
At least it's not grown yet…
Mik helped me place it next to the fire, though it wasn't quite happy.
I went back to my beautiful sand bed, and Mik went over and played with Squirmy while we waited for the water to boil and the egg to cook.
We've been eating the egg for a bit now, splitting it again. Mik drank from the bowls, and I took one that wasn't leaking. Squirmy is, well, squirming in the hole. There's shuffling outside of the tent again, but I've been relaxed, and Mik saw what I meant when I told it that its not dangerous.
Mik's been teaching me some more gestures. It seems to use its neck instead of a tail for body language. It managed to show me that looking up and down means yes, while looking left and right means no, which is utterly absurd. How am I supposed to be looking around without constantly conveying "Yes no no yes yes"?!
It took a while for Mik to explain. I'll write the process:
Before the egg was done, Mik tapped my tailtip to get my attention. I sat up, and it sat down on the sand bed next to me.
Mik wrote "yes" and "no" in its journal. It first tapped yes, looking up and down.
I didn't understand at all.
Isn't smiling affirmation?
It tapped the "yes" and smiled, moving its head up and down again. Mik