What a rotten first attempt at burglary. Caught red-handed.
Logan emerged from the thicket, wincing. He craned his neck to inspect the wound on his back. A palm-sized patch of his dark brown scales had been torn away, revealing the raw, pink dermis beneath. Blood welled up, stark and bright against his scales.
He turned his gaze to the fallen Pteryx. Its wing membranes were blotched with purplish-black necrosis. Dark, crusted blood stained its eyes, nostrils, and beak. Its talons were frozen in a final, rigid claw.
Can't let a meal like this go to waste…
Gritting his teeth against the pain, he dashed to the corpse before the scent could draw bigger scavengers. He tore into the feathered chest, devouring the plump breast meat. He used a claw to slit the belly open, scooping out the nutrient-rich heart and liver. Only when his stomach was uncomfortably full did he stop, reluctantly grabbing the sand-coated egg in his jaws and limping back to his den.
The entrance to the inverted 'V' shelter was weathered smooth by wind, but the interior was surprisingly dry. The oval chamber was about four square meters, with a few natural cracks in the ceiling admitting shafts of sunlight that painted shifting patterns on the floor.
Logan found a flat spot and slumped down. The wound on his back burned with a persistent, fiery ache, making him hiss softly through his teeth.
I'm going to be laid up for a bit.
He nudged the Pteryx egg into a corner for later. From outside, he could hear faint yapping and snarling—the carcass had already been discovered. This was his first serious injury since hatching, a stark reminder of his body's limits. He licked the dried blood from his snout and made a decision. He invested all three of his Evolution Points—the two from the hunt and his daily allotment—into Scale Reinforcement.
The familiar warmth flooded his veins. Beneath his skin, a network of new capillaries branched out like roots, reaching into the base of every scale. The existing scales began to soften and dissolve as fresh layers of keratin and calcium compounds were rapidly deposited in the dermal layer.
The process pulled him into a deep, exhausted sleep.
When he awoke, the den was dark. Through the entrance fissure, he saw the New World's night sky—a breathtaking tapestry of stars, unnaturally bright in the pristine atmosphere. By the pool, patches of luminous moss glowed with a soft blue-green radiance, turning the waterfall into a cascading ribbon of light.
Swarms of Glimmerflies hovered above the moss, their abdomens pulsing with an icy blue luminescence like drifting stardust. A giant Mernos—a moth with a half-meter wingspan—was drawn to the display. Its wings, dusted with phosphorescent scales, shed shimmering motes with every beat.
Logan tested his body. To his relief, the wound on his back had scabbed over. His entire body was sheathed in a dull, greyish layer of keratin, crisscrossed with fine cracks. An intense itching sensation crawled over his skin—the telltale sign of an impending shed.
Hunger gnawed at him. The scale reinforcement had burned through his reserves. The Pteryx egg in the corner was a welcome sight. He cracked it open and lapped up the thick albumen and yolk, crunching and swallowing the larger shell fragments. His body craved calcium for the new scales, and this abnormal appetite was its way of demanding it.
The egg vanished quickly. He ventured outside to where the Pteryx had died. As expected, only a few picked-clean bones remained, etched with fine tooth marks. He selected some of the thinner wing bones, smashed them against a rock, and swallowed the pieces. His enhanced digestive acids, potent as a vulture's, could extract valuable minerals from bone.
It still wasn't enough.
He made his way downstream from the pool. The moonlight was exceptionally clear tonight, painting the world in monochrome silver and turning the stream into flowing quicksilver. By its light, he spotted glimmering shells on the streambed that looked promising.
He was about to step into the shallows when a flash of silver caught his eye.
A foot-long, silvery fish was thrashing violently—clamped in the vice-like grip of a massive, metallic pincer. Following the pincer, Logan saw its owner emerge from the water: a Hermitaur over a meter long. Its carapace was a deep crimson, studded with coral-like growths. One claw was wide and flat as a shield, currently delivering the fish to its mandibles.
Most striking was the object clamped on its back: a battered, water-stained metal shield. Beneath the reddish-brown rust, the faint emblem of the Hunter's Guild was just visible.
The Hermitaur froze, its senses detecting Logan. Immediately, it shifted into a defensive posture. It raised its massive shield-claw in front of itself while keeping the fish clamped in the other. Thick, viscous bubbles began to seep from the joints in its armor—the precursor to its hypnotic foam spray.
Logan's focus locked onto the rusted shield. A manufactured item like that was a treasure trove of information. The blurred guild insignia could reveal which fleet it came from, even help pinpoint the timeline of the New World's exploration.
But prying it from a Hermitaur would be no simple task. These crustaceans were fanatically protective of the objects they carried on their backs. Ecological notes from his past life indicated they would forgo food to guard their "treasures." This one's crimson chitin armor offered formidable defense. More problematic was its soporific foam, and its aquatic nature made it a nightmare to fight near water.
I need to lure it onto dry land.
For a creature of low intelligence, bait might work. Unfortunately, he was just as hungry. It would have to wait.
He mentally marked this spot on the stream, then gave the cautious crustacean a wide berth, continuing downstream.
Soon, he found a calmer stretch of bank teeming with more crabs, shrimp, and shellfish. Perfect. He lowered the tip of his tail into the water and carefully excreted a single droplet of concentrated neurotoxin from the tip, letting it diffuse into the current.
The venom spread, diluting but still potent. The nearby crustaceans began to twitch and convulse. Crabs stumbled, shrimp curled into balls, clams snapped shut.
Logan waded in, seizing the opportunity. He began scooping up the immobilized prey. The rich calcium and protein from their shells and flesh were exactly what his reforging body needed.
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