Chapter Text
Hunger gnaws at my insides as I follow the creature through an old pipe that smells like soot. I had eaten a couple batflies and hanging fruits that were present near the shelter, but it would only hold me over. I needed something substantial. I needed meat. My new companion seemed to be in a similar situation. It was wholly uninterested in berries and flies and it was moving with a purpose. The pipes are dim and quiet. I don’t mind it. Memories of the King Vulture linger in my mind. I’m glad to be out of the open air. I had yanked a outshoot of metal from a wall and am now clutching a fair spear in my front claw. The spear offered a sense of security like an old friend, but not as good.
I miss Ink. Life is fragile, but it still feels unfair that my beloved sibling-in-claws was stolen away in such an unflattering way. Ink had a good soul, and it hurts that they be dashed on the horn of a vulture.
I’m ripped from my musings by the hissing of a lizard. As we are entering a larger room, a blue lizard rudely falls practically on top of us. It snaps its tongue out at me, which I dodge with ease. I raise my spear to retaliate but my companion beats me to it, boldly rolling behind the lizard and stabbing it in the soft underbelly. Repeatedly. The lizard flashes and spasms in pain. Only when the body goes limp does the Hunter lower their spear. Without wasting a single moment, it buries its face into the corpse and begins greedily tearing off strips of flesh with unseen teeth. Talk about ‘fourth karmic desire’! This thing eats like something twice its size! Despite their ferocity, once they finish, I notice they only ate the easy meat, leaving most of the tough hide and wiry tissue untouched. Not that blue lizards have much of that, but I balk at the waste. I eat what I can and leave the rest. I don’t have a den to stash it. The Hunter watches me curiously.
—
We head up yet further into the sky. The hunter moves with a purpose and seems to be familiar with the precarious environment. They leap surefootedly from pole to pole, and I follow as carefully and quickly as I can manage. I could be imagining things, but it seems like they were waiting for me. We were staggeringly high up. All I could think about was how easy it would be for a vulture to kill us up here.
The Hunter wiggles into a pipe and I scramble after it. On the other side, the scene I am met with is the most bizarre thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.
A giant, glittering, betentacled monster floats lazily above the Hunter. They seem to be conversing…
—
I wake up to the sound of the shelter door opening.. How did I get back her? And for that matter, what was that strange beast? And-
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the Hunter, squeezing themself into the exit pipe. I follow. What happened? A pang of hunger shoots through me. I need to eat. I snatch up a batfly and eat it to stave off my aching stomach. The Hunter is already well on their way down from the shelter. I have to hurry If I am to catch up.
—
As we scurry through another pipe, no, the same pipe, a second time, my mind drifts back to the strange encounter. It reminds me of an intense mushroom induced fever dream more than anything else. Even though I don’t recall eating any mushrooms…
Wasn’t there a lizard around here?
My question is answered by a pained his from the ceiling. A blue lizard is barely finished climbing down the wall when the hunter dives behind it and stabs it violently. We strip the corpse together. The hunter gets the soft meat, I eat anything left. I spy a couple mushrooms growing out of a nearby junk heap. Were those there last time? My memory feels fuzzy. I pick the mushrooms. Maybe they’ll come in handy.
When we reach the open air again, the Hunter goes down instead of up. Still moving with urgency, but in a new direction.
—
The scaffolds are similar, but not identical to the ones above. The chief differences being that the ground is visible (but still staggeringly far away) and the volume of lizards laying about. The Hunter looses a rock, dislodging a pink reptile from a pole and sending it tumbling towards the ground. I shiver. I’m glad that lizard isn’t me. A couple other lizards meet a similar fate. I look to the hunter, who is balancing across a horizontal pole. But something isn’t quite right about the pole. My eyes widen. I pick up a rock and throw it at The Hunter. The Hunter dodges it by ducking below the pole and hanging there. They whirl to face me, but The Hunter, of course, was not my target. At the same time, the strange patch of ground the rock impacts erupts into a strobe of color and comes alive with an annoyed hiss, drawing The Hunter’s attention as the white lizard careens off to meet the distant ground. They understand. They climb up onto the pole again and give me a slight bow. I reciprocate as best I can.
—
The following trek is uneventful. Keeping a special eye out for those invisible predators, We finally reach the ground just as the rain begins to break. The Hunter throws a spear and kills a large bug that was hiding in the ceiling. As the rain intensifies, I help the Hunter Drag their quarry to a shelter nearby. Finally safe from the rain, The Hunter gorges themself on the bug corpse and promptly goes to sleep. I sniff the corpse, and try a bit. It’s mildly unpleasant, but no worse than a centipede. I stare at the Little Hunter as they sleep.
What an odd creature. I don’t know why, but they remind me of Ink if only in spirit.
Weariness tugs at the edges of my consciousness and I finally close my eyes and drift off into a dreamless sleep.