But her eyes stayed half-lidded, watching the glow of the pride's fires dim one by one.
Warriors yawned, stretched, and curled. Mothers hushed kits. Even the wardens at the rim shifted to that heavy kind of stillness that smelled like sleep.
When the last tail flicked into silence, Idalia opened her eyes. Her heart pounded loud enough she was sure it would wake the whole Pride. But she moved anyway.
Now. Now, before courage runs away.
She wriggled free from Mama's warmth, paws careful against the ash-crusted stone.
Her ears twitched, listening for growls, for the scrape of claws. Nothing. She slipped into the shadows, belly low, whiskers trembling. The pride's scent thinned the farther she went, until she stood at the border where the Alpha's clawmarks scarred the basalt. The line of "ours" against "not ours."
Idalia sucked in a breath. It smelled like sulfur, like burned trees, like danger. Her tail twitched once, twice. Then she looked around thinking, If Papa's out there, I have to go. Even if the Pride says no. Even if Grandpa says it's too much.
She stepped over the boundary. Past the volcanic mountain walls. She gasped.
The world beyond was… strange.
Ash drifted from the sky like soft snowflakes, layering the black forest in gray-white powder. The trees here were twisted, scorched but alive, their branches creaking under the weight of falling soot. Lava rivers poured in the distance, their light flickering against the endless haze.
Shaking her head to clear it, she continued onward through this beautiful frontier. Adventure time, she told herself, and hopefully not terrible time.
She swam across rivers, passed through burnt landscapes, and climbed mighty boulders. Soon the night deepened, dark and thick. But no matter! She feared no darkness!
Even without [Spatial Sight], she could see perfectly well in the dimness. Kitty perks!
Still, in bursts, she made use of her [Spatial Sight] to ensure nothing mean, bitey, or vicious could sneak up on her. Burst, burst, burst. [Smell]. Search. Halt. Search. Then it happened! The many symbols gathered before her eyes.
[Spatial Sight]: {Level 4} → {Level 5}
Her tail swayed. Happy. Eager. But she kept quiet, maw shut tight when they appeared.
A couple of grumpy Pachysaurs rammed their skulls together. Bam, bam, pow! The very ground beneath her shook with each impact.
They were powerful. Amazing. Terrifying. Bad news if they decided to target their temper tantrums on her.
Fortunately, they paid her no mind and bounded away.
Now she could breathe again. But the thought lingered: could she ever be as powerful as them? She blinked, concentrating to reveal her "Status" runes. Open my screen, she thought, slinking toward the safety between a cluster of ferns.
| [Open] Idalia's Status |
Her first glance went to the core readings.
Mana sat strong, ninety-one percent. Enough to fight, flee, or maybe even play if she wanted.
Stamina, though, had dipped to eighty. She could feel that in her paws and her chest; good, not great. Health: perfect, a clean one hundred. No scratches, no bruises. Her body was ready. But the last line made her tail twitch! Emotional reserves at eighty-eight percent, a note glowing faintly beside it: Great, but desires sleep.
"Sleepy?" she muttered, half offended. "I'm not sleepy." Her yawn immediately betrayed her.
The numbers shifted as she thought more about them.
Her gaze slid to the next string of glowing glyphs pulsing along the air like embers.
Particles [400] Units [-100]
Current = [4] [-1] — 1 Pure Particle gained per 100 Power Particles.
Power Particles: four hundred units. The script shimmered once, dimming slightly to display: minus one hundred recently expended. Beneath it, a smaller note read: Four particles to distribute. One pure particle earned for every hundred collected.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
She nodded to herself. She had spent one!
[Knowledge Core [E]: 9 → 12%]
"So that's why it dropped," she murmured, tail curling thoughtfully. "Spent a point on strength thing."
The runes rearranged themselves again, forming a column of names. Her skills. Each lit like claw marks etched with stars at a slightly different brightness, depending on how strong she'd grown them.
[Portal Roar] came first, still level three, its mana drain labeled {High}. She'd need to rest before using that again.
Her trusty [Portal Breath] was weaker, just level one, but it too burned through energy fast. Then came her lighter skills, the ones she actually liked playing with: [Smell], level five, using barely any mana; and [Bite], also level five, similarly efficient. But the one that made her chest puff with pride, the one that glowed brightest of all, was [Spatial Sight] now level five.
She closed the interface, the glowing letters fading back into darkness. The night seemed duller without them, the forest stretching wide and gray before her.
Still sleepy, how does it know? Maybe the thing reads mind. She was… Tired. Almost grumpy. True. But she had a duty. Not that kind of duty, mind you! Liorexes prided themselves on doing the deed honorably in the magma. No foul smells, thank you very much.
Anyway, she focused more attention on the symbols. Spatial Sight. Not four. Now five. Aha! So, if she played with her [Spatial Sight], it raised her skill level thingamajig upward. Yay!
What an exciting revelation! Being magnificent was basically in her DNA. The thought made her tail swish with delight, even if she was still grumpy. After all, one must balance duty and fun, right?
Time to move along. I, Idalia, stayed in the same place too long.
She padded deeper, ears straining, paws crunching faintly on brittle ash. She sneezed once, wrinkling her nose. "Bleh," she whispered, catching herself, shaking her head. "Stupid sky-dust."
When finally crossing through a new forest. Dense. Not as scorched. She froze.
Voices. Harsh, chattering voices unlike Liorex growls or Carnotaur bellows. Sharp syllables clanged in the night air. She crept closer, weaving between tree trunks until the glow reached her eyes.
There! Shapes. Not beasts. Not rexes. Not anything she knew. They were like half-grown cubs standing tall on two legs.
The apes. Strange apes.
Their bodies were covered in shiny stuff… metal, clanking softly when they moved. Some carried sticks tipped with fire. Others bore long claws on sticks not of bone but of steel. Their faces were bare, skin pale against the red glow, eyes glinting under strange, metallic manes. A head shell?
Idalia's fur bristled. Apes? No… they look like apes, but wrong. Too neat. Too… dangerous.
She crouched low, heart thundering. Every instinct screamed to bolt, but another voice whispered louder: Papa. Papa was taken by these. These apes with fire-sticks.
Her claws flexed into the ash. She couldn't fight them. Not yet. But she could watch. Learn. Hunt with her eyes first.
One of the creatures barked a sound, lifting its fiery stick high. The others gathered, muttering in their jagged tongue. Nonsense. Gibberish to her ears.
Her nose twitched. What… what's that? Not meat, not hare, not lizard. Richer. Sharp but sweet. Oily, strange, almost bitter, yet her belly clenched in hunger. It wasn't from the forest. It wasn't anything she'd smelled before. Or was it? Chicken leg? No. Different.
She stalked closer, keeping her belly low, breath shallow. The scent grew stronger until her whiskers tingled. Then she froze.
More shapes moved ahead. Bigger than her, upright on two legs, swaying like the other apes. Still wrong, so wrong.
Their bodies gleamed, covered in skins of metal, plates that clinked and shifted. Hides fluttering from their backs. In their paws they carried short L-shaped sticks tipped with smoldering embers, glowing red like captured lava.
Her eyes widened, her heart thumping wild. What are they? Why are they shiny? Why do their sticks glow? She crept closer, ears forward, tail stiff.
One of the creatures stopped, sniffing the air, its face hidden under a dark shell. It turned the fiery stick toward the shadows, and Idalia's fur bristled.
She shrank lower, but the scent of their food wafted again, so close, so maddening. Her belly growled. She pressed her paw against it, glaring at its betrayal.
The apes murmured in guttural voices, strange words she didn't know. They laughed, deep and coarse, and one pulled something from a pack. The smell hit her like claws to the face. Meat, but cooked, rich, dripping with fat.
Her tongue lolled. She had to taste it. Just one bite. Just a scrap.
She shifted her paws, claws digging into ash, ready to creep closer.
Then one of the creatures raised its glowly "L" stick, and with a sudden crack the night split with thunder. Ash burst into the air.
Idalia yelped, tail puffing, ears ringing. Her paws scrambled, but she froze in terror.
The apes turned, their glowing sticks aimed into the shadows where she crouched.
Her first thought wasn't fear. It was hunger. But… the meat!
Her second was Papa. Did they… did they take him? Then her third was a snarl crawling up her throat.
They have him.
[Appreciation Notice]
I can't thank you all enough for the amazing support these past two week. We're closing in on 100 followers, and our lovely pride is thriving. If you've been following Ida's adventures and haven't left a rating yet, it'd mean a lot. Every little bit helps this story find its wings (and keeps me typing with a smile).
We've reached one of the categories. So expect a bonus chapter on Saturday ^_^