Archive of Our Own

The first thing It would feel before knowing what It even was had been constriction. Then pressure. As the alchemist, Its creator, Its god, pulled It down from the source of all energy. It would be rotated and turned. Pressure applied firmly in ways that made It squirm against the gripping force. Slippery and cool against Its form, or the part of Its form that could turn and spin freely in the grasp of the cocoon It didn't know It was in.

Before It was even born Its creator would hum and haw. A delighted and terrified chuckle crackling from above. It would be placed down. One side attacked by a constant weight. A constant draw to one place.

It was experiencing gravity for the first time.

It wouldn’t remember the fight to leave the cocoon. How the fluid became stale. How Its chest ached with the need to escape. The pressure spinning around It as It kicked and punched and stretched in the cocoon. Small tears forming in the walls but never breaking through. The slippery fluid was now ice cold, prickly sharp at the edges of what they knew. The pain was a new terrifying flavor. Memories bloomed into existence behind Its pinched closed eyes. Telling It where tearing was most successful, drawing It back to tender spots in the wall. Pulling It away from painful limb movements. Pain had varieties and during birth It experienced many. Sharp. Ache. Terror. Then It experienced the seizing of Its body. Contorting and twisting. Frantic in the grips of panic as the fluid rotted in Its lungs.

Then in the panic It grew another body part. Numb and without feeling. If everything in the cocoon was a part of It, controlled by It, then Its arm pierced through the walls and quickly went away. Its brain fired all cylinders, desperate for Its new numbed limb to return. Reaching out of the newly formed hole It would experience air. Raw and prickly. It would breach and stretch Its head and shoulders and right limb through the wall. The act would pull fluid from Its lungs. It would cough and gurgle. Lungs would pull air into Its body. Fluid would pop and drain from Its ears and with air there was sound.

There would be a delighted sound, high and undulating. It would experience air, sound, and an emotion opposite to pain: joy. Joy was the high chirping noise Its other limb made. It would find the noise repeated from Its own chest. Much quieter. Much weaker. It wondered how It made the noise the first time.

It would find itself wondering a lot of things.

It was not alone. 

It was not the limbs on the other side of the wall. It was one and That... was something else. Uncontrolled by It. Independent of It. From the moment It was born That was nearby. Tearing the cocoon open with stronger limbs, a stronger mouth, and a stronger will. It would never think to escape That, as That pulled It from pain and cold. As That lapped soft, wet, and wonderfully warm mouthparts over Its face. Peeling slime and crust out of Its nostrils, eyes, and ears. It was feeble and weak as That lapped over It until It would experience the final sense: Sight.

Eyes blinking into the world to see colors without names. Shapes without association. A world neutral and vast and unknown.

In the face of all things unknown It did not fear, for It was safe in the saliva bath of That. Safe was That. That was... Safe.

‘Safe,’ It would chirp, not even a fraction as loud as Safe could make.

Safe would stop. In a world where nothing stopped for even a moment It would do what had never been done until now. Wait. Anticipation building as Safe pressed on Its back over and over with the same hands that tore and held and pulled. 

‘Soft,’ Safe would chirp, ‘Soft, Soft, Soft.’ Safe would chirp and nuzzle against Its back.

‘Soft?’ It would chirp, repeating the noise the way Safe had.

‘Soft,’ Safe would chirp again.

Safe and Soft they would be, chirping back and forth. One loud and the other quiet. One Safe and the other Soft.

Safe knew things Soft did not. Safe made the cocoon into fluid, like the saliva in their mouth. Wet and warm and easy to go down their throats. Soft would watch with brand news eyes. Blinking and squinting. The hard bits in Safe’s mouth ground and squished the cocoon to liquid. Soft would feel in Soft’s mouth for the hard parts Safe had but there were none. Only squish and wet and warm. Soft would sniff Safe’s mouth and feel pain swell deep in their middle. Something deep inside rose up angrily. Fear. Annoyance.

Soft would lick the fluid from the cocoon off the floor. Annoyed it was not the same. Safe would hand Soft parts of the cocoon instead. 

‘Food,’ Safe would chirp, pushing the cocoon closer to Soft’s mouth.

Food was made in the mouthparts. By the hardbits. Soft did as Safe did; opening and closing the mouthparts as hard as possible with no liquid forming. As hard as Soft tried, Soft would fail to turn the cocoon into fluid. 

The pattern repeated.

Safe would chew the cocoon into fluid. Soft would lick the floor. Safe would hand Soft the cocoon and pull Soft away from the fluid. 

‘Food,’ Safe would chirp, shoving the bit of cocoon towards Soft’s mouth again.

The pattern repeated. The pattern repeated-

The pattern changed.

Safe stopped Soft. Made Soft wait. Made Soft look as Safe made the cocoon into fluid and then sat with an open mouth. Drawn by the smell now swirling in the air, Soft would lick the fluid out of Safe’s mouth. Finally the ache in Soft’s middle would go away. 

The pattern repeated. 

Safe would make the cocoon into food. Soft would watch. Safe would sit with their mouth open. Soft would lick the food out of Safe’s mouth.

The pattern repeated until the cocoon was gone.

‘Food,’ Safe would chirp, pulling Soft to the otherside of the whole wide world. ‘Food.’

On shaky limbs and a bulged out middle Soft would watch as Safe licked and lapped the end of a twisty vine. Droplets of fluid forming on the end of it. Sucked into Safe’s mouth and swallowed down.

Following along, Soft would crawl forward, neck craned up at the vine too far above. From there Soft would look to Safe and the two limbs on the ground. Body straight. Sitting but not. Sitting but tall.

Standing.

Soft would reach with one arm and fail. Not standing. Soft would reach with two arms and fall forward on their mouth.

Gravity.

Soft would sit and look from floor to vine to floor again. Safe would stand and look from vine to floor to Soft.

‘Food,’ Safe would click.

Soft felt fear. Looking to the floor, the limbs that were not arms. The limbs that were not strong and straight the way Safe's were. Soft moved these other limbs. Awkward and stiff. Unlike the ones closest to Soft’s head that did things like reach and pick up part of the cocoon. 

‘Here,’ Safe chirped, laying on the ground under the twisty vine.

Becoming the ground. Closer to the vine. Soft would crawl up onto Safe. Hard as the ground. The vine in reach Soft would hold on tight and suckle out the food. Clear. Tasteless.

Something quieted deep inside Soft’s mind.

The wonders of the world were endless. Safe crawled with Soft draped on their back. To every corner of the world. To the dark and smelly corner. To the clear food corner with the twisty high up vine. To the warm floor corner. To the wet floor side. To the scratchy dome.

‘Sleep,’ Safe chirped, in the dome. ‘Sleep. Hide.’

‘Hide?’ Soft chirped back. Hurting with everything they knew. Hungry to know even more. Curiosity sparking under their hands as they slid from Safe’s back on ground that gave under their weight. Shifted and moved and made noise when touched.

Safe pushed the ground up into the door. ‘Hide hide hide,’ Safe chirped and clicked. ‘Sleep. Hide-’

Safe pulled Soft through the rustling ground. To the deepest place. Soft squeaked and Safe chirped. Fear wrangled with trust. Hearts beating out of chests and in the blackness under soft bouncy ground Soft was under Safe. Surrounded by the smell of Safe. Filled with food from Safe’s mouth.

This was Hide.

Soft liked Hide.

Soft wondered what Sleep was.

Pain re-emerged. Twisting and squirming in the ground. Limbs pinched together. Middle hurting lower down between the stiff harder to use arms. A new limb, tiny and thin, fluttered and spasmed.

Soft let out little noises they only knew as distress. Safe still and not moving. Eyes closed. Half buried in the ground Soft had thrashed mostly out of.

‘Safe,’ Soft squeaked.

Safe moved. Mouth opening wide. Nostrils flaring open and closed. Safe clicked and Soft squeaked. Safe pulled Soft from the hide. The pain rose and rose. Safe stopped just before the smelly corner. Opposite the smell of food. Soft rolled on the ground while Safe clicked for their attention.

Soft would watch. Pain distant in the face of something new to see.

‘Out,’ Safe clicked, pointing at the corner. ‘Good.’

Out was smelly and wet. Out stayed where Safe left it. Safe pulled Soft to the smelly corner where more Out was. The smell. The recent memory given by Safe. A lurch. A new sensation. Scary as muscles moved on their own, on instructions coded into Soft's very being. The way lungs moved the chest. The way food pushed the belly.

Soft experienced Out. Dropping to the smelly corner with a wet smack. Taking pain away. Removing a desperate panic in Soft's limbs.

‘Good,’ Safe chirped.

‘Good,’ Soft chirped back, crawling away from the Out. Pulled to crisper air by Safe.

‘Warm,’ Safe chirped, pulling them away from smelly Outs. ‘Warm,’ Safe chirped, pulling Soft onto a raised section of ground.

Heat baked up into Soft’s skin, silencing another something in their head. Ground under their bellies hot and dry. Safe would stare at Soft and Soft would stare at Safe. Limbs reached out and touched each other. Between the eyes. On the splotches of bright on Safe’s face. Tails wagging slowly. Nostrils flaring as they huffed. Pushing prodding and poking each other for a reason neither of them understood.

Safe knew everything until Safe did not. Soft would squeak and chirp while Safe would push and press. They used their limbs to smack and hit and tap. To grab and pull and wrap around each other. When warm filled them with the need to move. To squirm about the entire world. Safe faster on two limbs than Soft on four. Quickly finding more fun in rolling on the ground as one.

Breaking apart only for clear food and wet floor side. To repeat a pattern of warm floor, rolling around, clear food, wet floor, then warm floor. Chirping, clicking, squeaking, breathing hard and scrambling away. 

For the first time Soft and Safe made a noise to mean something. Not Safe making a noise Soft would repeat, but together. A new thing. A new place. A new feeling.

‘Play.’

Made between headlocks and wrestling. As Soft found their lower limbs finally straightening out. Bending the way Safe's would until both were standing and playing.

“Ah, yes. I knew you would be a violent one.”

Safe and Soft had never dove into hide faster. Piling the rustling ground against the opening. Motions in sync. Hearts beating painfully. Unaware of any noises except their own fearful chirps.

“Oh... Perhaps not yet.”

Safe would push Soft under the ground. Play was over. Hide was now. Hide until the noise was long gone. Then hide some more until they forgot what they were hiding for.

Hunger for clear food pulled them out. Hand in shaking hand. Eyes swiveling the world for what they did not know. After drinking from the clear food vine Safe saw it. The pile of rustling ground on the warm ground. Excited chirps erupted out of both Soft and Safe. Unspoken desire to put all of it in the hide filled Soft and Safe to the brim. Trip after trip they took. Arms full. Walk awkward and clumsy. Rustling ground getting spread between the hide and the warm ground. Repeating until the hide was full of rustling ground. Stuffed until there was barely room for even them. Safe packed and shifted the rustling ground until there was a pocket just for them. 

The smelly corner was empty when Soft and Safe were drawn back over. Emptying themselves and scurrying away. The wet side was deep and had better smelling liquid. Soft slipped under the surface once and never again after the unidentifiable noise Safe made in response. Bad noises.

By the dry side there was a pile of sweet smelly mush. Quickly found to be food that Safe and Soft gobbled down until there was no more. Bellies big and round before Safe pulled Soft to the hide again. Chirping about sleep and the warmth of all the rustling ground packed into their hide.

Time passed. More concepts were grasped. Patterns formed in the way Safe and Soft navigated their needs and wants. Sleep, emptying, drinking, eating, warming, nesting, playing, soaking, and hiding. Actions they were compelled to complete only broken apart by the long immeasurable time dedicated to the first action: Sleep.

When the pattern broke Safe and Soft took notice. 

Eating went away.

No mush appeared in their world. No scary noise came from above. For the first time in a long time pain formed in Safe and Soft. Their play became rough. Fear turned sound into violence.

Soft hissed and charged at small visitors in their world. Once part of playing to follow and swat until they crawled through the walls out of reach were now looked at differently. Now the visitors that once crawled the wall drew clicking, hissing, and displayed teeth from Soft. Tail flicking and nails striking out. Peeling heads off little friendly visitors and opening up their once moving bodies. Insides becoming outsides.

Intruders that were not allowed to leave anymore.

A skittering visitor here. A flying visitor there. A wriggly flipping and circling long visitor another day. The energy needed to capture and eat draining Soft. Pulling limbs down. Safe would cry and whine. Soft would share the once moving food. No bigger than their hands. Licking visitor’s outsides (that were once insides) from each other's faces. Chewing vines all day. Licking moisture off the walls.

Clinging tight to each other with noisy squelching middles. Chirping. Begging. Crying for food from each other. Pattern dissolving into pain. Writhing in their hide unable to sleep. Only digging, shifting, ... searching.

Soft hissed and snapped at Safe. Not like play. Louder than play. The warning was ignored as Safe tried to pull Soft back to their hide. Their hide with no food. Their hide full of pain.

‘Not food!’ Safe chirped, yanking Soft's hand. ‘Not food! Bad! Pain! Hide!’

They had been at this too long. Soft hissed and clicked watching the new visitor lumber around their world. Feeling the vibration in the ground. Salivating at the smell sweating from the intruder.

The smell of food glistening on its back.

Soft gave into instinct. The ever present network of pulls and pushes inside their head. Where they mostly followed Safe before now; hunger took over. Pushing Safe away hard so that they became trapped on their hard rounded back and lunging at the visitor. Two times Soft's size, wriggling twitching masses adorning the sides of its body. Squishy stumpy hind legs pumped into movement.

Safe chirped and cried the way they did when trapped on their back. ‘Soft! Help! Soft!’

Soft bit and tore at the backside of the thing that smelled like food but moved too much. The intruder buckled and bent in unexpected ways. Curling around Soft, spinning them and pinching them with its scratchy mouthparts. The head now identified became a target. Soft’s claws tore into the intruder's throat. Their hands worked on muscle memory pushing the mouthparts up and away to latch down in the squishy rubbery food. Yanking and tugging. Hissing over the screech of the intruder's pain. The intruder’s thin needle hands scraping over Soft's back. The stinging sensation made Soft bite them hard until-

Wet. The color of Safe's face marks. Wet, warm, sweet, sticky, but sweet and maddeningly delicious. Snout and face saturated in the spilling sap of the intruder. Bubbling with air and gases. Needle arms twitching and freezing as Soft drank and drank and drank. Filling the desperately hollow place inside them. The place that gave way for the kill under Soft's claws.

Lifting their head from a haze of activity, Soft heard chirping. Fearful. Safe crying out in a panic for Soft. By the warm ground no longer on their back.

‘Food,’ Soft clicked in the back of their throat. ‘Food.’

‘Bad!’ Safe chirped back, face wet.

Soft reached into the throat of the intruder. Rewarded with a fistful of sticky strings and bulbs of mush. On two legs, covered head to toe in sweet stick, Soft brought the intruder’s outsides (once insides) to Safe.

‘Food,’ Soft chirped, thrusting the mass of ripped out food forward. Spraying Safe with dots to match their face marks. ‘Bad… Out. Food. Good.’

‘Bad Out?’ Safe chirped with wet eyes, looking from the intruder still on the ground to the food in Soft's hand.

Soft licked the sweet wet from their lips. Looking over at the not moving intruder. Then to Safe. Then to the food. Safe knew everything until Safe did not. Safe did not know the intruder was food the way Soft had known. Pulled to eat the food that moved by something in their head.

‘Soft. Play. Bad. Out,’ Soft clicked, head jerking to the intruder. ‘Soft. Safe. Food. Good.’

Safe took the food with shaking hands. Nostrils opening and closing as they stroked the squishy bulbs and stringy bits. Soft waited and watched as Safe licked at the food, then scrambled to shove the rest in their mouth. Gnashing and gnawing and sucking the sweet bright colored wet off their fingers.

‘Good,’ Soft chirped, encouraging Safe to come with them for more. ‘Good. Food.’

‘Good. Food,’ Safe would chirp, soft and weak. Only ever eating what Soft would push into their arms. ‘Good. Food. Soft.’

They ate forever. They fell asleep in the sweet wet with mouths still full. Waking only to eat more. Where Soft would pull and rip and find new pockets of smelly globs of mush and strings. Soft filled their own mouth with one hand and Safe's mouth with the other. 

Leaving only to empty in the smelly corner, and always together. Hand in sticky sweet hand.

The husk of the intruder dried and became too chewy. The hole they tore wide into its belly crusted and hard. Rotting and gross smelling of the corner where they empty themselves of outs. Together they pull the husk away. To the smelly corner where smelly things go away.

Safe and Soft were different. There was a hardness on Safe's back. Safe's body was covered in a hard surface. Safe would chirp and churr if Soft ran their claws over it. The edge was stiff and did not move. Soft had a squishy back. The edge would flip up and fold down. Soft would squeak and cry if Safe scratched it.

There were marks on Safe's head and no marks on Soft's. 

Safe had marks on their limbs; bright like the light above their heads. Soft had marks on their limbs; dark like the shadows in their hide.

Their bodies were different in curious ways. One sleep they scrutinized themselves as much as their world. Tugging each other's limbs, heads, shells, and tails. Squeaking and chirping indignantly at each other. Smacking each other away for some, pulling each other closer for others. Soft wanted to know everything there was about Safe. An act mirrored and repeated. 

Over and over.

To touch. To hold. To nuzzle. Prodding and pulling and squeezing. To lay in the rustling ground under Safe. To hold tight between hunger and intruders. To have something a pattern would never break. To slip into sleep in the center of the hide. Certain that the world was made completely in this place.

The longest amount of time that had ever been, came to pass again. They grew. Arms and legs were stronger. Teeth sharper. Their world was shrinking around them. Drinking from the water vine was now a sitting activity. The water pool was now too shallow to be in together.

There were losses. Their hide became too tight and one day went missing. Their nest became what was in the hide at one point now a scooped out bowl in the floor. A bowl dug together one feverish night with the urge to hide with no hide. Both pulled and manipulated by the directions in their heads.

There were gains, they were not alone in the world. Other worlds outside of theirs existed. Not reachable, but seeable if Stripes was to be believed. Another part of them lived in another world and they chirped their name: Sharp. Large and pointy. Teeth that hung outside their mouth. Sharp was always clicking to Stripes and Soft when they played. Clicking and chirping for them to stop playing so Stripes and Soft had a new game of making Sharp upset by doing play harder. Then the other large creature in the world next to Sharp would get involved with sounds that didn’t mean anything. 

It was fun to make Sharp so mad.

Sharp gave Stripes’ their name. Safe was a place and a plea. Stripes’ name came from the markings of color on their face behind and through their eyes. Ever since Stripes was given their new name they would stare at the water pool touching their face where the marks were. Sharp said they were red. Sharp learned that from the other large creature in the world next to theirs.

Sharp could understand that creature, that creature spent all day talking to Sharp unless Sharp was getting mad at Stripes and Soft for playing. Which was all the time. It was all Sharp ever did.

Their lives were better for having Sharp, as unknown as they were in another world. Soft could not see Sharp the way Stripes could, but Stripes would chirp and click and explain. Stripes was right about most things so Soft accepted what they said about the source of chirping, clicking, and growls from the other worlds.

And in another voice, different from the pushing and pulls in Soft’s head, they would silently without mouth movement continue to think of Stripes as Safe. Just only in their head where Stripes would not know.

Despite knowing everything there was to know, Soft was surprised to find some things could be new. When their body began to ache and shiver, even under Stripes protective weight. When the bedding of their nest became wet with poop because Soft could not get out of sleep. When moving became too much something new (and old) moved them.

It was a terrible day. Stripes hissing and clicking for Soft to be put back. Sharp hissing and clicking from their world far away. Then there was the big creature that spent all day making sounds at Sharp.

“What are you doing to that poor creature?”

“Curing him.” Soft was in the grip of a creature with five legs and no mouth. Soft sunk their teeth into flesh. “Ahrg! Stop that! I am helping you!”

“Serves you right for experimenting on these poor turtles.”

The creature stung Soft. In the thickest part of their legs. Soft squeaked and squeaked as their leg swelled up.

“There you ungrateful little thing.” A leg rubbed against the sting. Soft squeaked. Sharp was silent. Stripes hissed and clicked. The rubbing turned the sting into a deep bone crushing ache. “This injection should help him beat the viral infection.”

“He would not have a viral infection if he was taken better care of. All Blue and Purple do is fight all day. Let me have Blue in here with me.”

“If I am putting the Red Eared Slider anywhere it will be into my next batch of fertilizer.”

The grip of the creature tightened and Soft cried out. The world of blur and colors. Left leg completely numbed.

“That’s what I thought.”

The next thing Soft was aware of was Stripes. Clicking and hissing as they dragged Soft by both arms to the other side of the world. Away from the side they click and chirp to Sharp from. Distantly Soft could hear the thump of new bedding. Usually something Soft and Stripes would eagerly approach. The smell of dried soft leaves and moss erupting every urge in their heads to add to the nest. Instead Soft lay still on the cold ground. Stripes hissing and clicking long after the creature that took Soft and stung them was gone.

They stayed there the whole sleep.

There was no playing. No hissing. No clicking. No chirps.

No responding to Sharp in the other world.

Soft slept so Stripes slept. When Stripes was not sleeping they were guarding. Covering Soft with their hard protective body. When Soft would pull themselves from their nest to drink from the water vine and use the trash corner; Stripes followed. Eyes on the open side of their world.

‘Stay,’ Stripes would chirp whenever they were in the nest.

‘Stay,’ Soft would chirp back, unsure of the smaller voice in their head that warned they wouldn’t.

As it often was, that voice was right.

In the haze of sleep Soft woke up in the grasp of the creature once more. Awoken by Stripes squeaks of fear and the sounds that held no meaning.

“This shouldn’t be happening. The serum should have cured you.”

The creature bit Soft’s other leg. Biting and drawing in. Soft jerked their head and saw the belly of the creature fill with red.

“I’ll need to do testing.”

“Yes, keep holding him that way. I look forward to what happens when he is bigger than you.”

“Nonsense, they do not form memories this soon. Without this interference he will never form memories at all.”

Dropped from the jaws. Soft curled around the red spot on their leg. Hands coated with the wet red syrup that normally came out of food.

Soft was food. Food for this creature. The knowledge was ice trembling in their limbs. Eyes scanning the silver cold world and bright lit walls. Warping images of others like Soft on the wall. Fallen on their side and red on their legs too. Misery in all of them.

“Too weak to eat, best give you a meal before putting you away.”

Noise echoed off the walls. Soft and everyone living in the worlds on the metal walls flinched. A shadow loomed above. Soft tried to do as Stripes. Become the rock of no touching and no play. The creatures in the walls all flinched and cried out under the hand on the creature. Lifted. Sides of head squeezed until Soft felt their mouth pop open. Food slid into their mouth, then further. Panic flew into Soft’s heart. Scrambling to get away from the pressure and the hard food lodge halfway down their throat.

“This should give him a proper boost.”

Soft coughed as the hard food was removed. Mouth and throat aching. Noises hard to make and eyes blurry with water. The pressure in their stomach remained. Aching and firm.

“Nutrient paste. Don’t get used to it. You must work for your food Softshell.”

“Disgusting to speak to a child that way. The purple one is sick!”

“Silence wretched human. Your input is unnecessary and redundant.”

Despite the pain Soft scrambled away from the creature as soon as they were back to Stripes. Eager for the nest that Stripes squeaked and clicked about. Pushing Soft under the moss and leaves.

‘Where go?’

‘Bad,’ Soft would gurgle before sleep overtook them.

A bad world was where they went.

Day after day Soft was taken by The Hand. (As Sharp called it.)

The Hand was bad. The Hand took them to other worlds that were cold and scary. Full of smells and painful stings.

The Hand was powerful. A thick armor that could not be bitten. A friend that would push Stripes away while The Hand would pluck Soft up. More stings. More bites. Soft would squeak and squeak and squeak and The Hand would make nonsense noise back.

“Yes yes, me saving your life. How awful for you.”

“Yes, of course, please continue to fight every one of my attempts to fill your weak stomach with this very expensive nutrient paste.”

“I swear if you do not hold your head still- Seriously you are covered in three thousand notes worth of- why do I bother talking to you?”

The Hand always returned Soft to Stripes. Where Stripes would immediately lick and eat whatever was all over Soft's chest, neck, and face. Where Soft had managed to take out the hard tongue The Hand stuck down their throat.

Stripes was there to make it go away. To drag Soft to their nest and hide them away. Chirping and clicking about being ready to kill The Hand the next time. The same way Soft killed the food for Stripes.

While Soft and Stripes were good at identifying additions to their world. A sloped collection of sticks to climb. A larger water vine. A deeper water pool. They were not good at identifying the absence of something right away.

For Soft this happened when Stripes spent more and more time at the water vine. Less and less time tapping and nuzzling Soft. Less time chirping and clicking to Sharp. More time holding their middle and making warbling pained noise. 

Soft was never hungry.

Stripes was starving.

For some reason there was no food in their world that Soft needed to kill.

The Hand came again and again. Soft fought over and over. Never connecting The Hand and the hard stick down their throat with what was happening to Stripes.

“Are you feeding Blue?”

“The Red Eared Slider hides when I put food in the cage.”

“You need to kill it first.”

“He needs to learn to kill it.”

“You are a monster.”

“I am raising soldiers, not children.”

“Yet they are children.”

Stripes ate dirt. 

Something in Soft went crazy then. Fighting Stripes to not eat dirt. Wrestling away hard clumps before they could be swallowed. Sharp clicking about food. Stripes needed food. There was no food. For some reason Soft never thought about food.

Sometimes food came from the floor. Soft dug up their world for the small food that crawled and ran out from under rocks and around their water pool. Finding any food to give to Stripes. Even when Stripes couldn't follow, couldn't help, couldn't move. Even when Stripes stopped making noise and stopped opening their eyes, Soft pulled them to the water vine. Filling their own mouth with water to put into Stripes mouth.

Soft would drag Stripes to the trash corner and click at them to poop.

Soft would dig up places already checked for food. Stripes tucked away in their nest sleeping.

“I see we're feeling better.”

Food would drop from the sky. Unlike anything Soft had ever seen. Hard legs. Sharp hands. Long eyes on top of their body. Food walked side to side and away from Soft. 

Soft stole their beady shadow dark eyes and brought them to Stripes. Leaving new food to scramble and run around the world. Stumbling over their nest and running in the opposite direction of Soft's long warning hiss. Soft would take their large squishy dark as the shadows eyes and place them in Stripes' mouth.

‘Food,’ Soft chirped.

Stripes did nothing in return. Jaw twitching around food but not eating the food. 

Soft had to get different food. Finding new food trapped in the water pool Soft attacked. Finding food had hard shelled legs that fell off. Food splashed in the water. Soft dragged their detached leg back to Stripes. Something delicious, wet, and flaky inside the long cylindrical shelled leg.

‘Food,’ Soft chirped, removing old food and putting in new. Stringy like leaf stems but limp like a vine. The color of teeth.

Stripes remained still. Tongue pushing at food. Throat bobbing.

‘Not water,’ Soft clicked harshly. ‘Food!’

Stripes did not react. They continued to think they were at the water vine.

Soft hit Stripes’ hard back. ‘Food!’ they clicked. ‘Food! Food! Food!’

Food began climbing the side of the world. The noise set Soft into motion. Hissing and clicking at the food that Stripes refused to eat. Bad food. Wrong food. Stupid food.

Dead food.

Soft threw the bad food around the world. Mindlessly wandering the world for better food between checking on Stripes to see they still were trying to drink the food. Not chewing. Drinking.

Stripes could not chew.

Soft dragged more food to the nest. Motions controlled by the feelings deep inside their head. Hands moving to take away the food from Stripes mouth. 

Not hungry, not even close, Soft scooped and pulled new food from the hard cylindrical shell. Putting the clumps of stringy food in their mouth instead. Chewing and chewing until the food was liquid.

Soft pushed Stripes head forward the way they did at the water vine to give Stripes water. This time Soft pushed in the chewed food and Stripes swallowed just the way they had done with the water vine. Soft chirped and chirped with joy. Pulling more food from the cylinder to chew up for Stripes. Chewing and transferring just like the water vine with one added step.

The next morning Stripes would open their eyes and crawl on their own out of the nest.

Time stretched on again. Longer than any time before. Their world continued to get smaller. Their noises continued to web out to mean new things.

‘Stop talking to Sharp. Play with me,’ Soft chirped, yanking at the free edge of Stripes’ back. ‘Play fight. Play fight. Play fight.’

‘No. Play see,’ Stripes clicked, pointing out the bars of their cage. 

Soft frowned, head presses between the bars. Not understanding the game of see that Sharp and Stripes played. Outside the cage was looking through water. Cloudy. Warpy. Not fun like fight.

‘Stripe said play fight,’ Soft chirped, pushing a foot against the yellow mark on Stripes’ thigh. ‘Stripes said play fight, now Stripes play see.’

Stripes pushed Soft's foot away. ‘Play fight later.’

Soft sighed and walked away. Stupid game of See. Stupid Sharp always played games that Soft could not. Like playing see.

And others. Probably.

The Hand ended the game. Bedding was dropped and Stripes and Soft wasted no time sorting through their nest. Making piles of good leaves and good moss and then dragging bad smelly moss and leaves to the trash corner. Of course Stripes and Soft also made a pile of leaves that they couldn't agree on where to put. Choosing to fight and bicker over what went where until the pile ended up soiled with water and old bits of food making them both sour about it.

Little did they know it would be one of the last things they did together for a while.

The Hand was part of the pattern. Removing Soft from the world, taking them somewhere, making noises that meant nothing, then finally if Soft chirped and hissed enough they would find themselves back with Stripes. Any stings and bites from The Hand and the place The Hand took Soft were licked by Stripes. The way any bites and marks from killing food were licked by Stripes. Found often when Stripes and Soft licked each other after eating food.

When Stripes was taken by The Hand, Soft was left to gnaw on the bars of their world. No longer a world, but a place in a larger world they could not leave. 

A cage.

Soft hissed and clicked for Stripes to be returned as Stripes did not know how to chirp and hiss their way into being returned by The Hand. Despair welled up in Soft the more time spread without Stripes, causing them to throw parts of the freshly remade nest around. Kick pebbles and dirt into the water pool.

‘Stop that Soft!’ Sharp clicked.

Sharp was dumb and did not know what Soft did. When The Hand returned Soft bolted at it. Biting at its legs. Growling possessively for Stripes.

“Ouch!”

“Heh heh heh, I like Purple. Always landing a bite on you.”

“Silence human. When he is of age you will be the first thing he kills.”

“I think when he's of age you'll be the thing he kills.”

Soft chomped and yanked their head side to side. Their skull was grabbed and their jaw popped open. Another Hand squeezed their arms down and before Soft knew it they felt something squirt out of their tail.

“Seriously? Not you and the snapper!”

“Oh I'm going to pee myself! Great job! Super soldiers that can musk on their enemies!”

“Erg..”

Soft's breathing had rapidly increased. They released something else from between their legs. Something belonging in the trash corner of the cage with Stripes. The Hand made another noise and this time Soft was dropped, landing on firm ground with a slight give.

“I was just moving you and your emotional support defect to a new, larger cage. And you poop on me? You poop on the great Baron Draxum?”

“Stop, stop, my sides hurt, ha ha ha ha HA!”

The sound was loud. Unfamiliar and scared with this new place, Soft darted to the water. Feeling most secure there. Slipping under the surface and holding their breath. Moments later another creature broke the surface of the water, swimming towards soft. The scuffle was over the second the water cleared, it was Stripes. Their bright red marks barely visible through the cloudy water. They pulled Soft to the surface and to the land.

‘Soft, Soft, Soft!’ Stripes chirped with urgency. Pulling Soft to the corner of this new cage. ‘Found Sharp!’

Soft swiveled to look around the new cage. Wanting desperately to go back to the old one. This cage was bigger, so big that parts of it were fuzzy until Soft got closer.

As Stripes pulled Soft along they heard Sharp’s call.

‘Soft! Stripes! Come here!’ Sharp chirped.

Then, behind a pile of big climbable rocks was a corner of their cage. Only a section of it was like the front where they were removed and returned. Gaps in the wall where they could not fit through but they could stick their arms or snouts through. As Soft focused they jumped back realizing a big green snout was protruding into their world. Stripes let go of Soft's hand and ran right up to the mouth. Chirping and nuzzling against it. The mouth chirped and tried to get more of itself through the bars.

‘Stripes!’ Sharp chirped, closer than ever.

‘Sharp!’ Stripes chirped back, nuzzling harder.

This large creature was Sharp. The longer Stripes and Sharp nuzzled the calmer Soft felt. Growing curious themselves they edged closer to Sharp.

‘Soft...’ Sharp warbled, reaching a huge spiked arm through the gap. ‘Sharp no hurt. Sharp like Soft.’

Soft flared and unflared their nostrils. Their shell wrinkled with unease. Stripes kept nuzzling Sharp and finally Soft reached out to cautiously pat the spiked arm.

It took a few times for Soft to join Stripes at Sharp's corner for Sharp nuzzles and rubs. Eventually, just like their new larger cage, getting to touch and chirp to Sharp became part of their pattern. A part of the pattern that Soft came to enjoy so much that they started to work on making the gaps where Sharp reached through to them larger. An all consuming task as Soft chewed the walls and Stripes used the edge of their hard body to eat away at the barrier.

They only stopped to kill food, eat, drink, and sleep. From Sharp's side they bit the wall and pulled. Ripping away bits by bits. More of their arm fit. Then their entire head.

Then one day, frustrated and upset Soft would find themselves flat while standing and slip through the gap. Landing on the ground in Sharp's cage. Suddenly eye to eye with Sharp who before this point was big but not this big. Soft went as flat as they could on the ground.

‘Soft!’ Stripes clicked, reaching through the bars. ‘No leave Stripes. No leave Stripes!’

Sharp sniffed along Soft's back. Breath warm. Their hands found the edge of their body. With strength Soft had not experienced since The Hand, Soft was lifted and pushed back through the gap into Stripes’ waiting arms.

‘Stay with Stripes,’ Sharp chirped. ‘Stay with Stripes.’

‘Stay with Stripes,’ Stripes and Soft chirped back.

Both unaware that Sharp was that much bigger until just then. Big enough to make them food but instead treated them like... friend.

Curiosity.

It was another push and pull in their heads. One that made the hole to Sharp large enough for Stripes. 

Fear.

The anchor that time and time again drew them back through the hole to their side where Sharp would not fit.

Guilt.

The noises Sharp would make on the other side of the hole that they couldn't fit.

Food visited at regular intervals. Some of it ran, but Soft ran faster. Some of it swam, but Soft swam faster. Some of it bit, but Soft bit harder. Some of it sprayed bites from a distance. Bites like that of The Hand. Long and piercing into Soft's skin.

Pain lingered and grew. Soft bit the long stings in their skin but pulling hurt more. Stripes tried to pull them out but their hands made blood and pain. Sharp got one but then it was stuck to them and they refused to pull the rest.

Miserable and in pain, Sharp brought Soft to another hole. On the other side of their cage.

‘This help Soft,’ Sharp chirped, pushing Soft against the hole. Stripes lingering nearby. Hands covering their face.

Soft squeaked indignantly as they were pushed through. Landing not on the ground but-

“Good boy, Red.”

Panic.

Soft squirmed to right themselves. They were in The Hand. They opened their mouth to bite when another pressure collapsed on top of them. Now Soft could not move and the stings in their skin all hurt.

“It is okay Purple. I will remove your splinters then you will feel better.”

Soft squeaked for Stripes. Stripes did not squeak back. Stripes had fed Soft to this creature along with Sharp. Soft fought and fought. Squeaking and crying as the creature brought Soft close to their mouth and blew hot air between the hands.

“It's okay.”

More hot air. Causing Soft to pause. Both Hands were warm and soft. Their shell relaxed in the heat.

“There you are.”

Even when The Hand pushing Soft down lifted away Soft felt no reason to move. They were warm. The Hand was not squeezing and hurting them.

“Let's get these out of you Purple.”

The sound was different from The Hand that took Soft to be stung and bit. Quieter. Smoother. Then for some reason This Hand started eating the stings stuck all over Soft. Plucking them away and leaving in their wake a small mark of itchiness.

“There. All out. Want to see?”

Soft was rolled and turned by This Hand. Limbs all weak and wobbly. The heat from This Hand dragging Soft's eyes closed before they could quickly snap them open. Not safe to sleep here. Not so scary as to escape either.

“Splinter.”

Soft saw the long sting held out by another hand. What had been in Soft now was out. Soft followed the shape of the hand up to a body. Massive. Incomprehensibly large. Then the head. Large enough for Sharp, Soft, and Stripes to fit in at the same time.

“Splinter,” was the noise that came out of the huge mouth. A mouth that did not eat Soft. Did not bite Soft. Did not sting Soft.

“Splinter,” Soft tried to repeat the nonsense noise.

The huge creature jolted. Soft clung to the edges of their hand for balance.

“Uh, yes. Splinter.”

“Splinter,” Soft mimicked, reaching out towards the mouth that made the noise much better. “Splinter.”

“No, I am not Splinter I am... I am...”

“Splinter.”

“Here Purple. Back with Blue and Red. Stay out of trouble.”

In a rush of movement Soft was pushed back through the hole. Stripes and Sharp pulled them away, over to the light where they would be warm. Soft would keep trying to make the nonsense noise. Stripes and Sharp would join in.

They spent all day vocalizing that weird series of noises. “Splinter. Splinter. Splinter.”

The cage next to Sharp belonged to whatever that nonsense noise was.

With time they made the hole between Sharp's cage and Soft's and Stripes’ cage big enough for even Sharp to fit through. Though a few times they had to make the hole larger again. Then they set out to make the hole between Sharp's cage and Splinter's cage large enough for Sharp too. Though a few times they had to make that hole bigger for Sharp. Soft and Stripes made their nest next to the hole between their cage and Sharp's cage. Sharp did the same on their side. When the lights went down Soft and Stripes would crawl through to Sharp’s side. To enjoy the bigger nest and the pleasant weight over both of them.

On the colder nights after the lights went out they would sneak their way into Splinter's cage. Where Splinter's warm arms made a wonderful nest. They still made nonsense noises.

Then The Hand found out what they were doing. Leaving their cage.

What an awful day that had been. Trapped in clear bins for eternity. Forced to bite the unbreakable walls. Being able to see the blurry outline of Stripes in another clear cage but not able to reach. When they were put back, Soft raced Stripes to the hole to meet with Sharp only to find the hole sealed up.

And worse, the gaps that started it all were gone.

Soft and Stripes chirped at the wall for days after that. If Sharp chirped back they did not hear. The wall was too thick and their noises too weak. There was no more Sharp. No more Splinter.

Only Soft and Stripes. 

They did not forget but they did continue on. Soft killed the food that found itself dropped in their cage. Stripes licked their wounds. They ate together. Slept together. Licked each other when they bled. Made a new nest just for them. Made a trash corner by the weirdly thick lumpy wall. 

Maybe they forgot a bit.

‘What happening?’ Soft chirped, face pressed against the bars with Stripes.

They came to the bars drawn by noise. Stripes pushed Soft down and climbed on top of them. ‘Something new. Keep Soft safe.’

Soft pushed Stripes away then shoved their face back against the bars. Squinting out at the open space.

“What are these?”

Something black with wings and orange-red eyes came right up to their bars. Stripes and Soft jumped back. Soft hissed and stood on four legs. Teeth bared at the food not yet in their cage. Skinny and boney.

That was fine; Soft liked them chewy.

“These are my experiments and if you wish to be my Goyles you will feed all of them every day,” The Hand growled.

“Wait, why are there two in this one? There’s only one nameplate,” another food, rounder than the first made noise.

Good. Soft snarled and hissed. Stripes scurried to the back of the cage to their nest where they were safe.

“Ah, these are my future turtle warriors,” The Hand made noise again. “They are animalistic now but developing rapidly.”

The Hand stuck a leg through the bars and Soft rushed forward. Skull smacking into the bars as the leg was retracted last second. The whole wall of the cage rattled. Soft rubbed their head where it hurt.

“Yeesh,” Round Juicy Food made a noise.

“Indeed. Spiny Softshell Turtles are very fast on both land and in water and as you can see, extremely volatile.”

Soft bit the bars for hurting their head. Stupid bars. They would kill bars.

“So what about that other one?” Skinny Chewy Food flew up on the other side of the cage.

No matter. Soft started to climb, hissing hard the whole way.

“A defective experiment.” The Hand kept making noise that meant nothing. Talking to food for a longer time than they usually did. Any alarm Soft felt was undercut by the push in their head to kill and eat the flying fluttering globs of meat outside the cage. “I made the Softshell immediately after I noted the birth defect in the Red Eared Slider. With how violent they are I assumed the Spiny Softshell would have eaten it by now.”

“That's so sad.” Skinny Chewy Food made a crying noise.

Soft would tear their flesh off until it was the only noise that would be made. Food crying. It fueled Soft.

“I would not want to be stuck in a cage with that. It's climbing the door.” Round Juicy Food made noise. “I didn't know turtles could snarl.”

“I feed him only living creatures,” The Hand smacked the bars and Soft fell off. “He is the only one that actually kills for his food. The Alligator Snapping Turtle never even showed this much promise.”

The landing was painful and their back spasmed. They squeaked and hissed and righted themselves. In the nest Stripes started to click and come out but Soft quickly clicked back that they needed to stay away.

The cage opened and next to Soft a challenging food was dropped. Larger than Soft and with many legs. Needles on their back. A memory surfaced of pain and itchy spots. Fear yanked Soft back.

“This urchinpede will eat the Softshell if it is not killed in a timely manner.”

Soft clicked. Soft flared their nostrils. Another memory of the fleshy underbelly came to them. They lured the food to the water pool. Slipping under and watching eagerly as the food could not sink. Their needle back made them float.

With quick strikes from the bottom of the pool Soft darted up and took bite after bite. When the pool was more blood than water and the food stopped twitching on the surface, Soft pulled themselves out. Then they pulled out the food and rolled it on its side. Avoiding the needles on their back. Tearing the bites open wider and spilling out the delicious meat inside. Steaming warm and smelling so good. The nonsense noises outside their cage of little concern.

“Eesh.” The Skinny Chewy Food made noise.

‘Stripes!’ Soft chirped towards the nest. ‘Food!’

Stripes scurried over. Ignoring the food being handed to them in favor of putting their hands all over Soft's body. Searching for bleeding spots.

‘Soft safe, Soft safe,’ Stripes clicked.

‘Stripes eat!’ Soft clicked back, holding out food again.

Stripes sat as close to Soft as possible before taking the food and eating. 

“Aw he shares.” Round Juicy Food made a weird noise like a whine.

Soft growled and looked towards the source of the noise. They never had enough food. They always grew hungry and tired right before food was put in their cage. Hearing the noises of flying food outside the cage gave Soft an idea.

“Yes, it might be his pet or something. I only give them enough food for one. Eventually he’ll tire of feeding it.”

Soft licked their lips of blood and approached the bars. The flying food flew back just past the point where they became blurry. Soft let out a long puffed up hiss. Flattening themselves to appear large and more intimidating. 

“You are needlessly cruel. These creatures are not beasts, they have emotions. Blue and Purple play all day-”

Soft went cold hearing that noise. Familiar like the chirps and cries of Stripes.

“That sound barrier was a worthy investment. As for you Huginn and whatever your name is-”

“Muninn.”

“-Feed them, and skip the human. There are consequences for back talk.”

The Hand left. Soft felt the vibration in the floor. Noise snapped their attention back to the flying food now coming closer to the bars. Soft planned to leap on their backs and rip their wings off. 

The food elbowed each other. The way Soft and Stripes would push each other.

“What?” Round Juicy Food bobbed away from the Skinny Chewy Food.

“Give the hissy one another urchinpede.” The Skinny Chewy Food pointed at Soft.

“But Draxum said only feed the Softshell once.”

“Well, the Red Eared Slider is eating the first one so now we gotta give them a second one so the Softshell eats too. It makes sense if you think about it.” Skinny Chewy Food brought over a bucket.

Soft eyed that bucket.

“I am thinking about it. You're so right. You open the door. I'll throw it in.” Round Juicy Food started looking into the bucket.

“Maybe one day it will be our friend and we can feed it whoever we don't like.” Skinny Chewy Food made a noise.

“See this is why you're in charge of thinking ahead.”

“I know where I'll be in five years.”

“Yeah?” Round Juicy Food made a noise while turning to look at Skinny Chewy Food.

“Feeding our enemies to this guy.”

“You know where I'll be in five years?”

“Where?” 

“Right here, feeding this guy our enemies with you.”

“Aw, Mumu. Save it for the dog bed.”

The door opened but before Soft could attack the noisy flying food another food landed nearby. Only this time it landed on its needle covered back. Underside exposed. Before it could turn over Soft attacked. Ripping into its abdomen. When the food stopped moving Soft stopped pulling its inside out and began gnawing on intestines. Splitting open guts and slurping down what they found.

Stripes pulled the first food closer and they took turns eating the best parts first. Stripping all the meat from food and then licking each other clean.

From that day on as long as the flying food appeared on feeding day Soft and Stripes never went hungry.

One day while wrestling and lightly biting Stripes the world outside their cage kept getting brighter and brighter. The air got warmer and warmer. Stripes chirped something about heading to their hide when a blast of heat ripped everything apart.

They were flying through the air. Stripes ripped from Soft's arms. Noise roared and howled.

Soft landed hard on a rock. They scrambled to get away only to be plucked up by a creature.

“I have you Purple!”

Another thundering noise. A flash of pain. Soft went limp and the world turned black.

Soft woke up under Stripes. They gurgled out, pain in their limbs. Stripes chirped back, pushing on their back and limbs with worried little noises.

Another creature chirped too.

Soft fought their way out from under Stripes and scrambled to the new but familiar sound. Familiar scents filling their snout as the creature came into focus.

‘Sharp!’ Soft chirped happily, climbing up their bigger body to nuzzle their heads together.

Sharp stopped them before they could and Stripes pulled them back. Then Sharp pulled another creature from under the folds of the soft colorful leaves they were on. This creature cooed and chirped and what limbs they had disappeared. Sharp held in their hands a large rock with orange dots.

‘Spots!’ Sharp and Stripes chirped.

‘Spots,’ Soft chirped back, unsure of what Spots even was. Slowly deciding it wasn't food... For now.

“Ah. You're awake now?”

Soft jumped at the noise but Stripes and Sharp seemed to not hear it. Instead they were sniffing around the rock they called Spots that might have had limbs.

“Papa has some canned tuna fish.”

A delectable pungent smell filled the air. Soft's mouth watered and their shell wrinkled.

“Splinter,” Sharp made a nonsense noise. In return they received a morsel of the pungent smelling food from a hand.

A good hand.

Soft squinted up at the creature and connected it to the sound Sharp made. “Splinter,” Soft made the weird noise. Finding it easier to do than they had expected. Like they had done it before.

“Yes Purple I would not forget you.”

The hand gave Soft a big smelly chunk. Soft's mouth watered harder but they handed it to Stripes. They wanted it but they needed to give it to Stripes.

“I was going to feed Blue too.”

Soft received another piece of food. Stripes and Soft left Sharp and Sharp's weird rock that they called Spots in favor of eating in the corner.

“Now Red, I need to feed Orange until he can do it for himself.”

The rock was removed. Sharp seemed fine. Munching on their food while the rock was lifted away. Making other nonsense words at Splinter.

“Okay Papa, ” and, “Red want more food.”

It was only after eating and licking Stripes face clean of leftover food that Soft realized they were in a new cage. A soft cage with soft walls and a velvet floor. With weird things to climb. Weird things that looked like food until Soft tore off their heads and found bedding inside.

What a weird new cage they were in.

Time passed. The new cage had new rules. They pooped in a bowl. Their food came from Splinter. Splinter would remove them all at once to be in water and then scrub them with brushes and sponges. Soft felt better? Soft slept harder? Their new cage was so much better even if it was smaller.

They received specific noises by Splinter. “Red,” meant Splinter wanted Sharp. “Blue,” meant Splinter wanted Stripes. “Purple,” meant Splinter wanted Soft. 

The little rock they called Spots was called, “Orange,” by Splinter.

Sharp and Soft sometimes left to go into a water cage. It was Soft's favorite time. Playing tag with Sharp where there was room and Sharp was fast in the water unlike Stripes.

(Stripes was fast in the other cage and that was fun too.)

Spots was dumb. 

So very dumb and stupid. Spots could not eat food on their own. Spots could not swim. Spots had to be helped on the bowl to poop. Spots didn't know any sounds. Spots followed them around and didn't know anything except how to be dumb. Sharp carried Spots around because Spots was too dumb to walk as well as them.

Worst of all Spots sometimes went away leaving a rock in their place. Sometimes Spots would finally play correctly then disappear. Leaving a rock that didn't do anything. Soft and Stripes would try to bite the rock and fail. Eventually the rock would go away and Spots would appear. Very shocking every time it happened.

Sharp insisted the rock was always Spots, but Stripes and Soft knew better. Nothing could become a rock. Spots simply disappeared, it was the only thing that made sense.

Spots would even follow them into their new very soft nest that Sharp called a bed, then replace themselves with a rock. Very weird. Very strange.

And dumb.

Spots was the rock.

The whole time.

Soft stared at the floor for an entire day.

More time passed. Stripes made noises for Splinter just like Sharp. Certain noises got them certain things. Not that Soft ever made noises that would draw Splinter closer. If those noises could bring Splinter, then they might bring something else.

“Dad,” got them Splinter, but so did: “Splinter.”

“Food,” got them food. Berries. Tuna. Eggs.

“Up,” got them picked up and rubbed. Which Soft liked and still got if they clung to Stripes while Stripes made the noise...

“Ouch,” got them picked up and whatever hurt went away.

“Purple,” was their noise until one day while climbing on Sharp; Splinter made noises for them to come closer.

“Come here boys,” Splinter made gentle noises. Nonsense mostly, but pleasant and soothing. “None of us have had a choice in this life. Naming you feels wrong, but whether I like it or not, I have. Colors have worked but I gave them out of necessity.”

Splinter raised a clear bowl full of round eggs. Excitement rippled through all but Spots, because Spots was too dumb to know what an egg was unless they put it in Spots’ mouth for them.

“I have put down many names on these ping pong balls. What you bring me will be your new name. But for your purposes, this is fetch. Bring Papa back a ball for a berry.”

Eggs were yummy. A type of food. Soft was already on top of one of the bouncing hard smooth eggs the instant Splinter tipped the bowl into their cage.

Immediately Soft realized this was not food. It was a trinket. Splinter gave them trinkets to collect for food sometimes. They had a noise for it. Recognizing the game and watching Sharp walk over with their hard not-food egg, Soft searched for Stripes. Soft had to make sure Stripes had a trinket too so Stripes could have food.

Stripes ran up to Soft, but already had a not-food egg of their own. After a moment Stripes and Soft took each other's round white not-food eggs. Confused about if they were the same or slightly different. Both had some black pattern on them. Both wanted the other to have the better one.

“Thank you Red,” Splinter made noise, taking the trinket from Sharp and handing them a big red berry. “Your new name is Raphael. ”

Spots was doing the trinket game wrong. Hugging their not-food egg that was almost as big as them and trying to eat it. Soft couldn't believe how dumb Spots was for doing that.

“And what have we here Orange?” Splinter made a noise again. Peeling Spots off their trinket and replacing it with a red berry as big as them. “There, have that to eat instead. Michelangelo , hm? What a big name for such a little turtle.”

Soft and Stripes held their trinkets close. Stripes went ahead and Soft followed close behind.

“Hello Baby Blue,” Splinter made noises and Soft's anxiety increased tenfold in the space between the not-food egg leaving Stripes’ hands and a berry being given in return. “Ah, Leonardo . A fine choice. Though, I suppose your name was actually supposed to be whatever you gave Purple. Oh well, my fault for not clarifying the rules. Very clever..”

Stripes did not eat their berry, instead waiting for Soft.

Soft raised their round white trinket up for Splinter to take. Immediately a berry was given to them and Stripes and Soft were quick to try and give each other their berries. It was important they did this.

“And let’s see what name Leonardo picked out for you Purple.”

The berry was sweet and Soft cared not for the noises Splinter was making now that they had a berry to share with Stripes. 

“He picked out a good name for you, Donatello .”