Chapter Text
(Kai’s POV)
Running. That seems to be the only thing I’ve been doing for the past few days. Oh, and hiding. Lots of hiding. But mostly running.
A frustrated howl sounds behind me, and I pick up the pace, making sure to keep a tight hold on the makeshift bag hanging at my side. How was I supposed to know that fruit patch belonged to a hideous, four-legged creature with slimy tentacles all over its face? Now this thing is intent on chasing me to the ends of the world, even though we’re miles away from the fruit patch by now.
I shove my way through some gnarly brambles, wincing as some thorns lash at my face, but I keep running. My foot gets caught on some vines hidden on the forest floor, and I stumble a bit before yanking my foot free and continuing.
My lungs are on the verge of exploding. My legs have reached that strange point where they want to collapse into jelly but also can’t stop because they’ve been running for so long. If I don’t go into cardiac arrest due to the speed of my heart pumping, it’ll be a miracle.
Finally, I breach the edge of the woods and collapse into a heap by some rocks, wheezing and coughing as my lungs try to salvage what little strength they have left. I don’t hear any snarling or growling, but that could just be because I can’t hear anything through the pounding in my ears. My legs tingle uncontrollably, and oh First Master, just kill me now.
I lay face down in the dirt, warring between the desire to fall asleep for the next ten days and the need to stay alert for any sign of danger. My entire body throbs as my bodily functions slowly return to some form of normal, and I breathe a deep sigh of relief. The thing must have given up the chase.
After a while, I shakily rise on my hands and knees, still wary of any critters waiting to have me for a snack. I pat the bag at my hip and thank the First Master the fruit is still there. It’d kinda suck if I went through all that for nothing. My stomach grumbles in agreement.
“Not yet,” I mutter as I rise to my feet, praying my wobbly legs have enough strength to get me someplace safer. “Let’s get outta here, then we can talk food.”
My body tenses as a crack fills the silence, and I whip out my sword, pointing it towards the forest. I squint into the shadowy woods, trying to make out any potential creatures stalking me, but can’t see anything. Tightening my grip on my sword, my muscles coil like compressed springs, ready to move at a moment’s notice.
I definitely didn’t jump nearly a foot in the air as a snap reaches my ears. My brow furrows when I realize the sounds aren’t coming from the forest but from behind me. Turning towards the pile of rocks I’d been resting by, I finally notice the rather large crystal sitting in the center, cracks decorating its surface.
The crystal cracks again, and I take several halting steps backward, my body dancing the line of fight or flight. As I try to figure out whether to risk plunging back into the woods, some bits break off the crystal, and my heart nearly stops when I spy something moving inside. Swallowing, I steel my nerves and prepare to defend myself from whatever creature comes out looking for lunch.
The crystal bursts in an explosion of shards, and a form not much bigger than me is left sitting in the nest of rocks. The creature sits up, blinking at the scenery with wide, curious eyes as it adjusts to the dim light.
I slowly lower my sword as I watch the little monster take in its first view, my chest softening when it opens its mouth in a big yawn. It’s as ugly as Cole’s attempt at lasagna and yet somehow cute at the same time with its large eyes and toothless mouth. The baby monster starts squeaking out little grunts, probably calling for its mother, and I begin slowly backing away from the nest, not wishing to get on Mama Monster’s bad side.
I’ve only taken a dozen steps when the monsterling gives a violent sneeze and tumbles out of the nest, landing pretty roughly on the surrounding rocks. I freeze, hoping it doesn’t see me and think I’m its first meal. Instead, the monster shifts a little and lets out a series of whines, bordering on a baby’s cry.
Before I’m even aware of what I’m doing, I’ve sheathed my sword and started creeping closer to the little guy (girl?).
“Hey. Hey, don’t cry. Don’t cry. You’re okay.”
The baby stops and stares at me, and I pause, working a friendly smile onto my face. Monsters understand what a smile means, right?
“That’s it. You’re okay,” I murmur. “You gotta be more careful, little guy.”
It watches me with curious eyes, and a part of me hopes it isn’t doing that whole duckling thing where it thinks I’m its mother. The monster clumsily pads a little closer, tilting its head at me. It sniffs and whines softly as it tries to paw at me, and I step back on instinct. The newborn utters a small, frustrated grunt and crawls after me.
I back away several more steps. “I’m not your mámá, buddy. Trust me, I’m nowhere near ready for parenthood just yet.”
It snuffles some more before plopping its bottom on the ground and sticking one of its hands in its mouth with a whine.
I smile as memories of when Nya was too little to talk enter my mind, and I pull my bag around to my front. “So you’re hungry, are you?” I reach in the bag and grab one of the fruits. Seems baby monster-sized. Carefully, I roll the fruit toward the baby.
The monster watches the fruit intently as it rolls to a stop by its feet, rumbling a puzzled grunt. It picks up the food and shoves it in its mouth without hesitation. As it eats, it growls softly, which I interpret to mean that it’s happy.
My chest grows warm with the knowledge that this place isn’t completely dark and deadly. Life can grow here. Even if Little Monster isn’t going to be winning any Cutest Baby contests.
A distant grumble snags my attention, sounding like a deeper version of the monsterling’s squeaky growls. Sounds like Mama’s coming home soon, which I do not want to be here for.
I give Baby Monster a little smile. “I have to go now. You stay and be good til your mámá comes, okay?”
The monster simply blinks at me, completely ignorant to what I’m saying. But it stretches its mouth into an imitation of my grin and gives me a soft grunt in reply.
Slowly retreating back into the forest, a soft warmth settles in my chest. A hope that I can survive this harsh place and make it home again. All thanks to a little monster.
END