[ s ] In the Beginning (Fierce Warrior)
Posted: Wed Sep 11, 2024 11:43 am
He didn't remember sleeping and he didn't remember waking, but he was here, scuttling around on the ground with short, stumpy legs and tiny claws that dug into the soil, leaving behind little gouges with each movement. He thought, at first, that he must have somehow shrunk, his normal body reduced to something less impressive (not that he had ever been that impressive before, but he could pretend) - but after a few more moments of nosing around at the dirt he realized that his entire form had shifted. It had elongated into something more sleek, with more sharp edges, a blunted snout, dulled frills on the back of his head. He caught his reflection in a shallow pond and almost recoiled, everything that much closer, too close.
He was used to it now, though, used to slipping through the marsh grass and the puddles of mud that clung to his little body, used to the way that there were some creatures and insects that were a great deal larger than him now, a mantis skittering past and towering so high that Fierce skidded to hide under a nearby shrub. He wasn't sure why he had hid, exactly; surely he could take on a mantis with little to no problem, their spindly legs and fragile wings only a weakness rather than a strength. But he had hid, instinctively, and waited until the creature had passed, pincers clicking absently.
Fierce moved under the shrub, then darted out and dove headfirst into the dirty swamp water. It took him a second to remember how to use his new limbs, and then his tail swayed back and forth, pushing himself forward faster than he had thought he'd be able to go. It was with a single minded purpose that he swam towards the small, unobtrusive little island that, if he had been in his normal form, would have been nothing more than a stepping ground to reach the other side of the puddle. But here, small as he was, it felt like a bit of land where he could rest, Fierce's stumpy legs and curled claws scrabbling for purchase on the uneven, mossy ground.
When he was finally ashore, he flicked his body and the water sluiced off in shimmering brown droplets that didn't look particularly appetizing to drink from, but he was thirsty, and the water was here, so he lapped it up anyway. Fierce glanced at his surroundings - the hunched over willows with their dragging branches and winding, reaching roots; the slender reeds poking up out of the water, swaying with each little rippled; the lilypads, heavy with dew and bright, slowly unfurling flowers hungry for the sun.
Here, he could see it all. Here, he could see the fine veins of petals and the little black ant beneath the broken bark and the delicate dusting of pollen across a patch of grass. Up close, as if he was a part of this world instead of merely a guest in it, breathing in the swampy, brackish air and tasting the heavy weediness of the water.
He was something different. He was something more.
He was used to it now, though, used to slipping through the marsh grass and the puddles of mud that clung to his little body, used to the way that there were some creatures and insects that were a great deal larger than him now, a mantis skittering past and towering so high that Fierce skidded to hide under a nearby shrub. He wasn't sure why he had hid, exactly; surely he could take on a mantis with little to no problem, their spindly legs and fragile wings only a weakness rather than a strength. But he had hid, instinctively, and waited until the creature had passed, pincers clicking absently.
Fierce moved under the shrub, then darted out and dove headfirst into the dirty swamp water. It took him a second to remember how to use his new limbs, and then his tail swayed back and forth, pushing himself forward faster than he had thought he'd be able to go. It was with a single minded purpose that he swam towards the small, unobtrusive little island that, if he had been in his normal form, would have been nothing more than a stepping ground to reach the other side of the puddle. But here, small as he was, it felt like a bit of land where he could rest, Fierce's stumpy legs and curled claws scrabbling for purchase on the uneven, mossy ground.
When he was finally ashore, he flicked his body and the water sluiced off in shimmering brown droplets that didn't look particularly appetizing to drink from, but he was thirsty, and the water was here, so he lapped it up anyway. Fierce glanced at his surroundings - the hunched over willows with their dragging branches and winding, reaching roots; the slender reeds poking up out of the water, swaying with each little rippled; the lilypads, heavy with dew and bright, slowly unfurling flowers hungry for the sun.
Here, he could see it all. Here, he could see the fine veins of petals and the little black ant beneath the broken bark and the delicate dusting of pollen across a patch of grass. Up close, as if he was a part of this world instead of merely a guest in it, breathing in the swampy, brackish air and tasting the heavy weediness of the water.
He was something different. He was something more.