>>6434084Gathering as much of yourself as you can, you turn the other way, kick dirt into the face of your challenger, and jump across the river to the unknown.
A gutteral roar pierces your ears as you cross the rolling river beneath you. You almost trip when your feet meet the ground on the other side and turn to meet the four-legged creature.
>2It roars again, pacing left and right before approaching the river bank. A paw is dipped into the running water, as if pondering a pursuit. After two or three more touches, it retracts its wet paw and grunts. With a sudden shake of its head, it turns toward the bush and picks out berries with its teeth, seemingly content with its share.
You rest your hands on your knees and notice your sigh of relief, grateful for whatever force above all that decided to let you have your meager meal. With progressively quickening steps, you turn away and enter the treeline, hoping that the black beast forgets about you. When you are far enough for the waters of the river to be barely a whisper, you look into the hand holding your claim. The gleaming, juicy, red berries move around with your palm as it shakes. Before you know it, they all fall victim to your jaws, chewing cravingly as you savor the refreshing taste. All that remained after you swallowed was the red stain around the mouth, which you casually wiped away with a soft sheet of bark from the floor.
No more than a few minutes of walking north pass by before your stomach growls yet again. A frown develops as you suddenly ponder the life you live. You are alone, and have been for ten cycles. Berries, small fish, and insects are the only meals you have ever eaten, as you never got to learn how to hunt like mother did. Only the big-eyed night birds keep you company, as all the other peaceful animals run away from you and all the hunting animals attack you. Maybe its because your eyes are big and round, like theirs. Sometimes, you wish you knew how to fly, so you could follow them as they soared in the dark.
But you cannot fly, only hop with your wings. Your mother flew beautifully, and she was beautiful. So, since your attempts at flying are ugly, does that make <span class="mu-i">you</span> ugly? Now that you think about it, no one else looks like you. The only ones you've seen walk on two legs like you are the strangers with two arms you see on occasion. However, they have small eyes and have bodies. They would probably be scared of you, too. Mother told you to hide from them whenever you see them, anyway. Hiding is all you have ever done--because there's no one to give you a reason to stop.
Your vision becomes blurry and your eyes get wet as your walking slows and you begin to wail. Step after step, the water keeps running from your face. After what felt like ages, you could not bring yourself to stand anymore. Walking stops, your knees bend and you fall to the ground.
