Ilocke

I’m thirsty.

There’s water just a few paces outside the den. I can smell; clear and clean. The light of the setting sun glimmers on its surface like stars.

I don’t want to drink it.

I don’t know why.

There’s nothing wrong with it. I’ve watched insects and birds flutter down for a drink. I never worried about their wellbeing.

I just… don’t want to drink it. I really, really don’t.

But the longer I lay here, the more thirsty I become.

It taunts me.

I have to go.

I have to do something.

I creep out of the den. I consider saying goodbye to my silent companion. I almost do.

I close my mouth again. It tastes like tears. I quickly clamber up the bank to the savannah as the sun disappears past the horizon.

Whatever I do, I don’t look at the water.

It feels like cowardice.

~~~

My paws carry me to a strange being of their own accord. He smells of rot and oil and dark, silent things. He calls my name. (It’s not my name.) He calls me friend.

I don’t know how to tell him that I have no idea who he is.

He speaks as if we’ve been working together towards some grand goal. I nod, unsure what else to do. He seems content to give instructions and leave me to follow through.

I wonder if he noticed the lie.

~~~

I run into a strange lion.

Not that I have much to compare him to, but even so he strikes me as odd. He roars about the end of times and the approach of doomsday. He spits at me in his fury. He calls me a heretic. I get the feeling that if I get any closer he will attack.

I choose to leave.

He looks at me with disgust and mistrust.

I can’t help but to worry that he sees through me.

(To what?)

~~~

This boar is wrong.

Tusks grow from every angle and soft spot of flesh. They curve inwards until they pierce too deep and make an end of life. I make a mental note to tell the strange black beast about it.

The boar smells like him.

I try not to think about how familiar it feels.

Insects swarm and bite me as I leave.

I wonder if they can feel it too.

~~~

I’m so lost in my own thoughts I don’t notice the lioness until I’m mere paces away. She calls out first, startling me. She laughs when I immediately snarl a warning. The fact that I jumped two feet in the air first probably makes it a bit less intimidating.

“Well aren’t you all big and scary?”

Ilocke looks like he accidentally bumped into a human’s electric fence. His fur stands on end, puffed up in surprise. His limbs are rigid and tense, a fierce snarl on his face and rumbling in his chest as he prepares to defend himself from the unknown threat.

The golden lioness looking at him stands relaxed and at ease. Her tail slowly swishes in amusement as her eyes twinkle with humor. She doesn’t seem to see anything worthy of her concern when she looks at the puffed up lion.

Ilocke slowly relaxes as he takes in the unknown ‘threat’. She rather appears the exact opposite of hostile. Her posture is unfamiliar but friendly, he being a stranger but seemingly harmless and entertaining. Ilocke shakes his mane to shake off the scare as heat creeps up his face. Thankfully, his dark fur hides the color. His embarrassed posture gives him away.

He stares at the lioness.

He is silent.

He continues to stare.

The lioness raises an eyebrow as an amused smile curls at her muzzle.

Perhaps, in another time, his silent and single-minded focus would have been off putting; after his spook the lioness doesn’t seem to find him intimidating.

“Well, I know I’m pretty, but you’re going to have to speak up if you want to do anything about it.”

Ilocke stares and says nothing.

The lioness tilts her head slightly, curiosity creeping in.

Ilocke remains silent.

He continues to stare.

He hasn’t blinked once.

The lioness chuckles.

“Hello? Are you still alive in ther-”

“You have to leave.”

The lioness had taken a step forward. Ilocke interrupted the moment she began to move.

The lioness seems unphased. If anything, her expression becomes challenging.

“Why?”

Ilocke hesitates. He repeats himself.

“You have to leave.”

After a moment more he finds something else to say.

“It is… not safe here.”

“Oh, whyever so?”

(Why isn’t she worried?)

Ilocke looks down as if searching for answers in the dirt. Frustration creeps into his expression as his tail twitches with agitation. There’s a feeling like static charge in the air, the creeping ionization of a distant thunderstorm.

“You just have to leave.”

The lioness walks up to Ilocke now. He snarls lowly in warning. The lioness is blatantly unconcerned as she steps right up to him.

“Well, now I have to stick around and find out. You can’t just be all ominous and vague like that without making me curious, and now I simply have to know.”

Her eyes and voice make a direct challenge.

“Unless you can give me a good reason not to?”

Ilocke stays silent. He just looks at her unhappily.

The lioness raises her tail in excitement. A grin breaks out across her features.

“That settles it then! Now, where is your pride? I need to get settled in, maybe ask around to see if I can get some clues as to what you're all foreboding about.”

Ilocke glowers.

The lioness is confident and unafraid, waiting for an answer. She breaks the silence first.

“Kara, by the way.”

Confusion mixes into Ilocke’s expression.

Kara’s whiskers twitch as she huffs in amusement.

“My name, my name is Kara.”

Ilocke gives the slightest of nods in understanding.

Kara waits expectantly.

“And you are…?”

Ilocke looks down again. Not bashful, not shy, but unknowing and looking for answers. Unseen to him, Kara looks surprised by the confusion her question has brought.

“…Ilocke?”

He says it like a question.

It’s not a question of deceit, not hoping she believes him; he isn’t sure of his answer.

Kara’s face clears of confusion and is back to confident and self-assured by the time he looks up.

She nods.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ilocke.”

He doesn’t say anything in response.

Kara seems to already be accustomed to this. She prompts him without drawing it out.

“And your pride is…?”

Ilocke’s brow furrows as he debates whether or not he wants to answer. He finally gestures to the way he had come with his head.

“Watering hole. That way.”

Kara takes the minimal direction in stride. She turns to saunter off.

“Well, I’ll see you back at home then.”

Ilocke is silent and watches her go. There’s concern on his face, worry.

And perhaps a touch of fear.

He turns and continues his explorations.

He doesn’t see how Kara casts a concerned look of her own back at him.

He was right, something is wrong.

She gets the feeling that he is just as vulnerable to it as he worries she is.

Her stomach twists.

It doesn’t feel right to abandon him to it.

Ilocke

I had noticed the bugs.

I didn’t know what to make of them at first. I had nothing to go off of, as far as I knew they were a fixture of life. I found them annoying, but pressed on, accepting their presence with minor irritation.

But the oil-beast commented on them and I am beginning to wonder if my initial assumptions were incorrect.

There is a small creature running about on my shoulders. It startled me, but it seems more preoccupied with chasing the swarming insects that I find bothersome, so I leave it be. Surely, even if these numbers are normal, so is the hunting of them?

It is a wonder to me how confident this small creature is.

The abundance must have dulled its fear.

I do not attack the small creature. Its presence bothers me less than the swarms. I let it go when it is finished.

I take a leaf out of its book and try to direct some other small animals towards the swarms.

If it’s abundance they seek then I have no qualms resolving my own irritations at the same time.

I am beginning to suspect it might even be the right thing to do.

~~~

The larger creatures are not so genial.

The small ones don’t seem to see a difference between myself and others of my size, but those closer to me in mass look closer in turn, and I think they can see the lie.

They spit and snarl and hiss.

I run.

I think they would kill me if I didn’t.

~~~

There’s the remains of a bird nailed to a tree.

It carries that same feeling that the oil-beast and terrible boar did.

I try not to think about it any deeper than that.

~~~

It was like a lightning flash how quickly the creature’s attitude changed.

One moment it was watching me with trepidation, cautious and willing to fight should I approach but not overly concerned, and then it caught my scent. It saw something in my face, in the curve of my shoulders, it heard something in my breath.

It went mad.

It lunged at me with a frothing fury that would have frightened me if I had the time to feel emotions beneath its onslaught. It didn’t back down no matter how I fought back. It didn’t slow no matter how I wounded it. It didn’t stop until I cracked its neck in two.

I look down at its remains, shaking from adrenaline, and feeling like a cub caught in an act.

I was right.

If I don’t run, these creatures will kill me. They won’t let me escape when beaten down. They won’t let me live to fight another day.

They know.

~~~

I find food here and there.

I’m hungry, and it quenches some small edge of the thirst.

It’s enough.

It has to be.

~~~

There’s dead fish on the water’s edge.

I don’t want to approach anyways.

I wonder if they died from whatever I’m afraid to see.

~~~

I can’t even raise my eyes as I pass by some hooved beast whose steps leave plants dying in its wake.

It’s the only one who lets me go.

~~~

The sun is beginning to rise.

I look up to take in the sky before it changes with the day.

The stars make me feel sad.

I’m missing something more than just my memories.

The stars make that void harder to ignore.

~~~

I bring some dead animals that I find back for Kara. I think she might be hungry. I figure it’s safer for her if she doesn’t have to wander elsewhere to find food.

I’m tired. I’m still thirsty. But I can ignore both of those things for now.

~~~

The rising sun chases away the cool edge of night. The morning dew which twinkled in the moonlight turns to a brilliant, fiery shine as the first red rays of sunlight appear above the horizon. Kara yawns with a mighty stretch as the light and approaching pawsteps rouse her from her slumber.

She blinks up with bleary eyes to see Ilocke approaching, several small carcasses held in his mouth. She thumps her tail good-naturedly.

“Well there you are, I was beginning to think you’d just shooed me off in some random direction.”

She stretches again. She gets up and pads over to the watering hole for a drink, commenting to her companion as she bends down.

“I haven’t seen anyone else around. Is it just us then?”

Ilocke is silent. Kara swipes her tongue over her muzzle to catch the remaining droplets of water and looks over at him. He’s staring. He seems to do that a lot. He’s still holding the carcasses.

Kara rephrases her question, prompting him again for an answer.

“You said this was where your pride lived but I haven’t seen anyone but you and I, is there anyone else who lives here?”

Ilocke stares before lowering his gaze and gently setting the carcasses on the ground. He stares off into the distance silently after straightening. Kara’s tail twitches in mild aggravation when it seems he won’t answer.

Then he does.

“…No.”

His voice is quiet and just as distant as his gaze.

He stands silently for a few moments more before looking back down at the carcasses. He nudges them in Kara’s direction with a paw and turns, padding back off the way he had come.

Kara bounds once after him, calling out in surprise.

“You’re leaving again? Aren’t you tired?”

No response.

Kara glances down at the carcasses.

“Thank you!”

Ilocke’s tail flicks in acknowledgment. He neither answers verbally nor slows as his figure disappears off into the savanna once more.

Kara frowns as she watches him go.

Well, that was a bit concerning.

Ilocke

I can't breathe.

I don't want it to notice me.

I hadn't gone far; I could still call out to Kara if I wanted. There was the smell of old, rotten things in the air; so like the oil-beast, but not. The oil-beast smelt of churned, black earth and writhing, wet worms.

This smelled like silence and a mouth full of ashes.

I crouched in the grass. Something told me I didn't want to be seen. Then I saw it. I haven't dared to blink since. Too close, it's too close.

Don't look at me.

Please, please don't look at me.

I'm not here. I'm nothing. I'm not even a shadow.

Don't look at me.

It continues walking. So slow, it's so slow.

I want to hurry it along.

But I dare not make a sound.

Everything its slow, ambling hooves touch turns grey and withers away to nothingness.

I don't want to contemplate what that feels like.

It walks on and on and on. Never stopping. Inevitable.

I run once it has faded from view. I'm careful to avoid its trail. I don't want to risk that its touch might linger still.

The horse is just as much of a lie as I am.

For Death is no living thing.

It's like leaving made no difference.

I'm facing the water just the same.

~~~

There're roars in the distance.

I choose not to question why.

~~~

I stumble back to the oil-beast. My limbs are numb and heavy. They keep me upright, but I can scarcely feel how, and can only trust that they will not fail me. My head feels far away from the rest of my body. I swear that if a too strong wind blows, I will simply float away in the same dizzying spiral I am already stuck in.

The oil-beast listens as I tell him of the things I saw.

I don't mention how familiar they felt.

He speaks to me gently. I cannot tell if he seeks to soothe me or simply thinks me too small for blunt words. I feel as if either would be deserved.

I can't truly listen to most of what he says. My head is still far away, and his words are distant, I hear things I know but I cannot understand them; I listen only to the cadence and tones of his voice, the low and warm sounds a tether I try to crawl back to Earth upon. He could be telling me a fairy tale for all I know.

Slowly my senses return. The oil-beast is still talking. He is discussing philosophy and what defines morality. He posits questions but they are only prompts for thought, be it mine, his own, or the winds, and he leaves me to my silence and stillness. His voice is my lifeline as I regain awareness of myself and the world around me. My paws knead the ground as stiff muscles and tendons try to relax.

As my breathing now comes easy instead of strangled his words fade into comfortable quiet. We are silent, but it is companionable. He gently rests one of his strange paws against my foreleg.

I look over at him. He is looking at me. His eyes are so strange.

He stands wordlessly and returns to his den after a moment of contact.

I stay where I am for several minutes before I too rise and take my own leave.

I find that I am comforted.

Ilocke

I try to find something to distract myself.

I chase off the swarms and collect whatever random things I find lying around. I can't be sure what might and might not be useful. I know so little. Even if they're useless, it's still something to do.

I only find pause when I come across a young animal separated from its mother. It cries out in what I know to be fear. Desperation. Searching. It's all alone.

I cannot think of the name, but it is hooved, and something in my muscles tells me it is food.

I'm hungry.

(It's all alone.)

And yet, I hesitate.

Is it right to target the young simply for my own gain?

My body screams yes, that I am a hunter, that this is the safest type of meal I am to come across. Something in my belly urges me to lunge and catch the frail neck in my jaws. To crush the life from it and devour it, bones and all.

And yet.

And yet...

I...

I cannot kill it.

I cannot.

I try instead to usher it away from this place. I drive it in the direction of which similar scents to its own are strong.

I let it go.

Because it is just a child.

And it is scared.

~~~

There is a cub all by their lonesome.

I am vividly reminded of what I had encountered not even an hour before. I look around for the cub's mother.

Nothing.

Who has left this child all alone?

They seem well fed and happy. They do not seem distressed as if something terrible had happened. There are smells here, yes, but there are smells everywhere, and I cannot distinguish their meanings. Does this area smells like others because there are others nearby, or because this cub was only recently abandoned and has not yet realized what has happened?

They make a small noise.

I look at them. They are looking at me. They do not seem distressed so I continue to scan the horizon for the cub's pride.

They make the small noise again.

My ear flicks but I do not look down at them.

There are a few moments of silence. I am starting to become worried as I find no sign of others in the vicinity.

Something bumps against my leg.

I look down, only barely restraining myself from leaping away. It is a good thing I do, because the cub is leaning against my leg, looking up at me. They make that small noise again.

I...

I don't know what to do.

Are they... hungry?

I have no meat. I'm sure I could find some, but that would mean leaving them alone again.

Are they even old enough to eat meat?

"...I have no milk for you."

The cub makes the small noise again and nips at my leg. It doesn't hurt.

I stare.

They nip at my leg again and run a few paces away. They stop and look over their shoulder at me.

I... do not know what they want.

They run over again on small, toddling legs. They nip at me again. They run off again and look back at me.

I raise a paw in confusion when they run back over. They lunge at my paw, gnawing on me and trying to grapple my leg. I gently scoot them around, trying to figure out how to get them off without hurting them. They make more small noises, higher pitched and with more energy. I think they're excited.

They are... very strange.

The make another small noise.

They're also very cute.

A part of me wants to pick them up and bring them back to the watering hole with me. I vaguely wonder what Kara would say about that. (I wonder if perhaps I ought to bring them to the oil-beast instead. He seems wise. He comforted me, perhaps he could comfort an abandoned cub.)

My thoughts stay as such, and I am relieved when a lioness appears only a short distance away, loping over in our direction. She seems similarly relieved when she takes in the two of us, though I'm unsure why. The cub makes a small but loud noise, tail shooting up as they run over to the lioness, winding around her legs. They look similar. Family?

Regardless, the cub seems happy and safe with her, and I hurry to take my leave before the lioness can be taken by the madness that seems to afflict those I have encountered so far.

I can be only thankful that the cub remained untouched.

~~~

The madness assaults me all the same as I wander. Beasts raging as if they sprang from some dark and burning place chase and pursue me, trying to rip my flesh from my bones and stopping only when I have done as such to them, or very nearly. I am careful to stay where the wind will not blow my scent to them. I tread quietly and keep my head low.

I find several small things that I think are good for eating and hasten to the watering hole if only for a brief moment’s respite. I do not wish to linger, but I want just a few breaths without having to worry that I breathe too loudly.

Kara greets me lazily as I hurry in, asking where I am going in such a rush. She does not press for an answer when I find the words will not come to me. I think perhaps she did not expect one. It is a strange thing, I think, to ask a question without wanting a response.

She thanks me for the food and I am glad. I am glad that I was right when I thought this meat good for eating. I was not sure.

As she leans down to take a bite I find myself suddenly aware of the water once more.

And now that I hear it, now that I smell it, I cannot put it from my mind.

It’s right there.

I can see it now.

I’m so thirsty.

I run.

Kara’s voice hollers after me.

“Don’t you ever sleep?!?”

I do not stop to reply.

I do not know what I would say if I did.

I tell myself that the smell of decay that fills my nose is from the food and nothing more.

Ilocke

Kara and I will need more food. These lands are not safe, Kara cannot venture beyond the sanctuary of the watering hole to find food for herself. I must find more so that neither of us will go hungry.

That is what I tell myself.

It is not untrue.

I find that it offers little reprieve from the sick feeling of guilty conscience that settles like a stone inside my chest.

As I am chasing the irritating swarms, I find myself blinded. Panic quickens my heart as I scrabble at my face. The blindness lifts. I blink. It was only a leaf.

It is, however, a rather large one at that. The plant is draped in them. A green feather flutters where it is caught between the leaves.

I am struck with the urge to bring them with me; to what end, I'm not sure. With no reason not to I rear up onto my back legs to slice my claws through the leaves's stems, delicately gathering them into a pile I can carry while damaging them as little as possible. I somewhat succeed.

I tore down a few too many, however, as I find myself only able to effectively carry half of what I gathered. A curl of guilt winds its way through my heart at the accidental destruction.

I comfort myself with the thought that someone else will appreciate them, I'm sure. They are rather nice leaves, after all. I hope that that is true. I do my best to paw the feather into my mane until it feels decently secured. I hope I didn't destroy it in the process.

I feel somewhat pleased as I carry my prizes off.

The scent of freshness ought to help cover the growing scent of rot.

~~~

I try to follow a lost young of some hooved sort. I think Kara would appreciate the fresh meat. It gets away easily.

Perhaps I should have set the leaves down first.

~~~

I need to drink.

~~~

There's another seemingly lost cub. I worry that this will become a repeating pattern. I only hope their families are not being troubled by the madness.

A lioness once more shows up to claim them after but a few minutes. I am all too relieved to flee the area.

~~~

Ow.

I shake my paw trying to dislodge the little grub that has latched onto me.

No luck.

I rub my paw against my cheek to try and scrape it off.

It's attached to my mane now.

Great.

~~~

I'm fairly certain I've become a menagerie at this point.

A horrible swarm passed, and I ran for cover for both myself and my prizes. The insects thudded against me but seemed to carry on after their initial impacts. But, I noticed that there was at least one wing stuck in my mane by the time I re-emerged.

There was another grub stuck to me now as well.

I can only wonder what I'll look like by the time I actually make it back to the watering hole.

~~~

All I can think about is how dry my mouth is.

I wish it would rain.

~~~

I do my best to evade the mad beasts, but my many prizes do not lend themselves well to stealth. I manage to protect myself, if only just. Sometimes I have to run for what I feel is my life.

While not stealthy, at least my speed isn't impacted.

~~~

Perhaps I should've learned my lesson the first time I tried to chase something down while holding the leaves.

The herd of hooved creatures evades me easily.

At least I have a shiny bug now, I suppose.

~~~

My jaw hurts from all the things I'm carrying. My steps are heavy from the burden of the carcass slung across my back. Maybe I should have brought all of this back before I pressed on.

~~~

I'm so thirsty.

~~~

I squint at brilliantly colored stones that seem to shine with starlight.

Or perhaps its just my imagination.

Regardless, I think they might look nice around the watering hole.

Something to distract from the smell.

~~~

Not only are there more grubs on me, but there is also a small creature.

Its paws are more like hands, and its nails tickle against my skin.

I'm not sure what madness possesses it to hitch a ride on my shoulders.

At least it's a more amenable madness than that which has afflicted so many others.

~~~

My hind leg aches from the swipe of claws that tore through the skin.

The mad beast scarcely let me go.

I only evaded it because of its smaller size. I was able to stun it while I fled.

My blood is on the ground.

I'm shaking.

I need to rest.

(I'm so, so thirsty.)

~~~

The rising sun is just beginning to gleam above the horizon when the smell of blood grows thick in the air.

Kara snorts quietly as the smell pulls her from her sleep. Her bleary eyes are dazed and clouded as she tries to process her sudden return to wakefulness. The heavy sound of stumbling pawsteps draws her attention to a single direction.

For a moment, she thinks a strange and hulking creature has happened upon her in her sleep.

Her eyes focus after several forceful blinks.

She finds herself snorting again, but this time with humor, as she makes out Ilocke, absolutely covered with things of all sorts. He has meat across his back, some of it even live, and a multitude of things stuck in his mane. His jaws are stretched beyond sound reason to accommodate the multitude of bones, stones, vegetation he appears to have brought back with him. His steps are clumsy as he manages to make his way down the slope with only minimal collateral.

"Do you think you got everything, or did you leave some of the jungle for everyone else?"

Ilocke doesn't answer.

In fairness to him, fitting words in his mouth alongside everything else is probably asking too much of him right now.

He toddles a few steps away from the slope before unceremoniously lowering his head and dropping everything he's carrying. He groans wordlessly and sits down in an exhausted slump, the carcass sliding off his back to thump against the ground. The little rat that had been clinging to him hops off as well, investigating its new surroundings with great interest and a remarkable lack of fear considering the two large predators it shares company with. Ilocke rubs a paw against his cheek to massage his aching muscles. His face is furrowed with exhaustion and pain.

Kara rolls into a stretch before standing and padding over to investigate the goodies. She paws through them with amusement, lifting a ruby that catches the light of the rising sun in a way that creates an image of a nighttime star. Pretty.

"You found the oddest of things."

She wonders what this watering hole will look like in a few weeks at the rate Ilocke seems to have collected random odds and ends to decorate it; given its relatively barren appearance she imagines he must have only just moved in. That, or he was trying to impress her now that she was living there as well. Somehow, she didn't think he was the sort.

She lifts her gaze to his mane. The ruby drops to the ground as she steps forward with renewed interest.

"Are those beetle larvae?"

Ilocke does his best to look down at himself. He reminds her of a turtle. He eyes the larvae with confusion and mild irritation.

"I... don't know..."

Kara lifts a paw to gently coax one of them off and onto her instead. The little larva is more than happy to let go for more solid ground. Kara's eyes brighten with enthusiasm.

"They are! Lycoreus corpulentus, Bolbaffer princeps..."

Her voice trails off as she eagerly unlatches each of the larvae and examines them more closely. She turns them over in her paws with remarkable gentleness, careful not to nick or press on the delicate larvae. She squints at them with a critical eye while examining both sex and species.

"You've got a good mix of males and females here; unfortunately, none of them are the same species, so that won't be of much use if you're wanting to breed any. Still, no harm in keeping the females around for a while in case you happen upon some males any time soon, we can always put them back in the wild later."

"We don't have any mounds yet, but they'll be alright just tucked in a shady corner for the moment, there's plenty of good material and dirt here to set up some mounds for them. Oh, you should have warned me if you were going to go larvae-collecting! I could've gotten some mounds set up while you were gone. Ah well, they'll live for the moment."

"They'll get hungry though; did you find any herbs or fruits while you were out?"

Kara leans in to nose through the pile of assorted goodies.

Ilocke stares at her with a slightly overwhelmed look on his face as he tries to absorb the slew of words being thrown at him. He scoots back a little to give her better access to the pile of things he had brought back with him. He winces with a hiss as the movement aggravates his hurt leg.

This diverts Kara's attention away from the beetle larvae. She looks up at his face momentarily to see his discomfort, before her eyes track down his body to find the limb that he's favoring.

"Oh!"

Her voice is immediately softened and quieted, but still with its focused intensity as she sets the larvae down amongst the goodies and moves closer to Ilocke's hurt leg. He pulls back unconsciously, shielding his injury. Kara stops.

"That looks pretty bad."

She looks at the pile for a few seconds before glancing at their surroundings, already knowing she won't find anything of medicinal value. She turns back to Ilocke, gesturing for him to lie down.

"Here, you get your weight off that. I'll put this stuff away and then take a closer look at it, we can get it cleaned out if nothing else."

Her voice brokers no room for argument. Ilocke slumps exhaustedly to the ground, it had been a long time since he'd rested.

Kara shuffles the goodies around until she can pick some of them up without the risk of dropping or damaging them. She pads over to the dug out den Ilocke was storing food in, based on the smell. It'll do for now.

Ilocke slowly drags himself to the water's edge.

~~~

Thirst overwhelms fear and pain. All I can feel is my cotton-thick and dry mouth. My nose is filled with the scent of fresh water.

I close my eyes and drink.

I drink and drink and drink until I feel my belly will burst.

I drink more. My thirst is not assuaged.

My lungs scream for breath and I lift my head with reluctance, gasping air until the burn in my chest is alleviated.

I blink open my eyes on instinct.

The dead lion looks up at me from the water.

My thirst falls away into nothingness. The world retreats. The sound of the wind is far away. I can no longer feel my mouth nor overfull stomach. I smell nothing.

There is nothing but the reflection of the dead lion gazing up from the water's surface.

My chest feels cold. I don't think I'm breathing.

Kara's voice calls out quietly and nervously from the edge of my hearing. (So unlike her.)

"Ilocke?"

I know three more things now.

Ilocke is dead.

He's rotting in the den.

And I took his face.