This was a case of worry becoming reality.
The flying predator was so massive the large frog easily fitted its feathered white talons. I could make out its underbelly from my position, inside the frog's wet mouth. Covered in layers of white feathers, it shone a prismatic hue every time the sky predator swerved left or right, letting sunlight trace over them.
Outside, wide blew strong and scraping. Staying under it was a daring venture for the overconfident and strong; I was neither.
It took me far away from 43rd city and my companions. How far? I couldn’t distinguish. Even the map, a system tool, a skill that showed my position relative to the geography, displayed me in a circle of black nothingness. Using it was my step toward adapting to the system; a little late, but better than never. The skill depended upon my knowledge of the surroundings to chart, and since was lost in a white haze somewhere up in the sky with no idea of the direction I was heading, it had stopped recording for the time being.
I was heading toward the unknown and alone. Time turned unease into fear for me, the fate of my city and the princess whom I had left behind. Later confidence kicked in and confused me.
You are done. My inner voice laughed. Let’s see how you finish your quest now.
It needed a whip on its blasted bottom and be reminded that it was my inner voice.
Why don’t you jump? It said. You might make it to the ground in a single piece.
That surprised me. But suddenly the air grew cold around me. The bird dove and I saw water, blue sparkling water that roared like thunder and stung like poison. The sky predator pushed its free leg into the water body, skirting, opening a wound on the surface that closed behind us. It drank from the river, letting me a sight of its face. It had green circular eyes with a rim of yellow around it, a pointed beak that was large and sharp enough to pierce right through the frog. A long feathery mane curved along with the shape of its neck. It climbed back to the sky once it finished drinking and my sight grew hazy again.
Well, you missed the chance. Better luck next time. My inner voice mocked. I grew pensive and sat back inside the frog's open mouth, eating its flesh to stay full and drinking the rising blood to keep hydrated. The red blood was too salty for my liking. We were so high up it was impossible to make out anything.
Eventually, we slowed. The sky predator went into a dive, wings folded, legs stretched behind. I almost got thrown away by the pressure and only survived thanks to the frog.
It wasn’t long before it pushed its wings out and flapped them to hover and slowly descend into the crown of a tree. I felt alive again as the drowning wind stopped and lively sounds erupted around me. The sudden explosion of greenery was emotionally overwhelmingly, after the never-ending white. I felt like I was at home again, but deep down I knew I might never return.
The all too familiar scents grounded me. Just a bit more and I could at least be back to my part of the world. The sky was not where I belonged.
Is the ground where you belong? You really think so? Even after meeting the frog and knowing the truth?
I ignored it.
We were getting closer to the source of the sounds, the sharp chirps, the cries of hunger. Sensitive hearing was too sensitive sometimes. The sky predator slowly lowered herself into the largest tree around, for as far as I was concerned.
Hidden between the branches and leaves was an enormous construction weaved from twigs, flexible reeds, and grass blades. It was carefully placed at the point where one of the larger branches extended into two. The sharp chirps were coming from it, loud enough to attract the attention of a predator, just like the frog. I wondered if there was something wrong with these creatures, whether they didn’t understand the meaning of vigilance. Did they lose fear with their size? But the chirps stopped when she took perch next to the nest that was far too open, too accessible —the latter being the reason behind its hollow base and an open top.
Me, mother! FEED ME! I heard as the frog was lifted and then dropped in the nest.
I braced for impact, which came as a sudden jolt and then pounding. I first thought of running outside, but ran the other way, inside, when the carnivorous murderous chicks pounced upon the frog.
They shredded the frog apart in minutes. The difference between us horrified me. Tens of ants had lost their lives to give the others a chance to attack it. The carcass would have nourished thousands for the coming days, slowly eating through it!
They are going to eat you along with the frog. My inner voice said. You better make a run for it while they are distracted.
There was a lull that made me wonder if they were done feeding, but I was wrong. The chicks started fighting over the last portions of the frog. The carcass was pulled and thrown around. That’s when I knew I had to leave. Inside the frog was not safe anymore, which was ironic. I rushed out of its mouth.
The ground was a barely wide strip of dried grass blade that demanded my full attention. Around me the chicks danced, causing surprisingly small tremors. The nest worked wonderfully as a shock dampener. I changed direction when a fuzz wall of feathery flesh blocked my path. Clawed feet drummed the nest, small wings flapped and loud chirps created a ruckus. The largest one among the three was trying to monopolize the whole frog. Two were fighting it. I noticed a fourth one, gigantic in its own right, but frail compared to the others resting to the side of the nest. It looked hungry but made no motion to fight for a portion. It had given up.
I wondered why they couldn’t share the frog then shook my head to clear my mind. This was no time for useless wonderment. My life was in danger. I would die the moment they noticed me.
Too late!
A claw crushed me.
That would have been the end of me if the ground was solid. Thankfully, it was not.
I fell through the senseless weaved construction of twigs and grass that the chicks called their nest. It made no sense to me. I couldn’t see intelligence in this. Were they not afraid of predators, of wind and rain, the elements, of diseases and parasites?
My world turned upside down. Stunned, I rolled over twigs and leaves only to find myself completely catatonic lying somewhere deep inside the nest. Only my antennae moved, which they did from neural misfiring rather than intention.
The world inside that multi-layered construction was deep and dark. Barely illuminated by sunlight, shadows drove into the gaps and filled them with darkness, while the burning edges of the materials gave it a sense of depth. The outside noises barely reached inside. I didn’t know I was looking for solace until I found it there. The passing light made the shadows like a living-moving creature, hiding inside the nest. Well, its addition wouldn’t have made any difference to my condition even if it was true.
Weary soldiers that survived the outside alone never told their stories. They only warned to be cautious. To stay on the trail, stay with the horde, never lose your way.
Our strength lies in numbers.
I lost consciousness right there midst the dancing lights and the warmth.
Night had fallen outside when I came awoke, and the world was under the veil of darkness. I climbed back to the surface —It was easier said than done, but not impossible. The sky predator was inside the nest, sleeping with the chicks under her wings, three of them. The frog was nowhere to be seen and another being, shelled and multi-legged, lay half-eaten to the side.
I passed by pieces of its broken shell, attracted by the lavish scent it was releasing. I wanted to leave, but hunger won me over. The scent was too inviting.
I approached the body with caution as the fourth chick, the malnourished one, slept right next to it. Far away a hopper cried for a mate. Wind careering through the leaves kept the night awake. The chick stirred in front of me as a cold gust swept through, but didn’t come awake. Soon, I was digging into the succulent mass, forgetting my woes for the time being. The nervousness gave way to stress eating and my abdomen swelled with each bite I took.
Lost in feeding, it was too late by the time my senses woke and alarmed me.
The fourth chick was awake!
My heart thrummed. It stared at me, head cocked and eyes staring in interest and confusion. I stared back in dread, legs refusing to move. The stalemate continued until confidence kicked in and I found some strength in my legs. I rushed away from the multi-legged monster and down into the layered protection of the warm nest. Deep I went and lay there. I worried it would look for me, but it surprisingly didn’t.
However, that was enough excitement for one night. Heart told me to leave, and my mind laughed at the proposition.
Where are you planning to go? It’s the middle of the night. My inner voice said. I couldn’t argue.
The night didn’t belong to us ants. I was starting to doubt whether even day belonged to us or not. And it was safe in there, warm and protected. I didn’t think any smaller predator would risk coming close to the nest while the sky predator slept inside.
The night passed uneventfully.
***
The next morning, the real owners of the nest, the chicks, started crying again in hunger, especially the largest one, the bully. Their mother, the sky predator had it tough. I was starting to pity her. Back in the city, the whole population was there for the sake of taking care of the queen and the newborn nymphs, that didn’t make you go insane with their cries of hunger.
The chicks stopped crying the moment their mother left for hunting. At least they knew to be careful. I had trouble understanding why there was no one to protect them while their mother hunted. Where were their community, their soldiers, and warrior? The difference was uncanny.
At least we ants had a community to rely upon. These predators, though monstrously strong, were far too lonely.
I planned to look around. As for direction, any would do, unless it took me into danger. I was too lost to care. Going back to the surface was unnerving since it was day time, but I was careful and vigilant.
To my surprise, the chicks were busy beating the fourth one for food; I could smell the scent of my late night’s meal coming from it. To think a family would hurt one of their own… but they were distracted and it was as good an opportunity as any I would have found. Taking a chance, I rushed toward the nest wall, cruised over it, and climbed atop. It was a green-green world, a maze of branches thick and thin. Sky a distant invisible thing, similar to the ground.
I was too high up to jump.
I picked my way through a set of branches, walking toward the center of the tree, toward the trunk. Falling down was not an option. In a territory unknown, I had to be careful. Who knew what hid in the layer of foliage, waiting for a prey to fall from the tree?
The wind blew sequentially up there.
I hadn’t gone much further from the nest, only a few branches away, when my senses started tingling. My eyes saw nothing and my antennae found no one. Until I heard a swish and saw a familiar tongue shot toward me. It was long, elastic, and slimy; reminding me of the frog and the terror it had caused midst the lines of our soldiers. I was sure to die. However, it barely brushed past me and struck something behind. The thing had been hiding. I only saw it while the tongue was receding back into the mouth of the frog? There was a large brown mass jittering, stuck at the tip of the tongue, legs flailing, antennae blurring. It was helpless.
The pink tentacle disappeared somewhere in front of me, and I was none too wise to understand the shading hell that had happened. Where was the frog? Why was I still alive? Senses were no longer at unrest. Hair heard no movement. The air stood still for a moment. The hunter suddenly appeared, right in front of my eye.
It was no frog!
It had been hiding in plain sight, invisible to my naked eyes!
An explosion of colors brought it out from hiding. A smattering of orange made the tip of its chewing mouth, red and green and blue made the fingers that wrapped around the branch I was using as a bridge. Yellow flowered atop its horned eyeless head, and beyond. I stood motionless until its binocular eyes moved around in a haphazard manner and then fixated upon me one by one.
That’s when I turned around and ran. It didn’t pursue me, but I was terrified. Up this branch, down that leaf, I somehow ended up following the trail back to the nest where the chicks no longer fought and were sleeping. I knew the smallest of movement would bring them awake and screaming in hunger, but I couldn’t create that kind of movement anyways.
In the nest, the fourth chick was once again lying to one side, but this time a wet reflecting red marred the side of her belly. The others had pecked her. The wound and the blood were still fresh.
She saw me and gave a chirp. Picked something up from behind and rushed toward me bouncing from one leg to another.
I just had about enough at that point. I was really exhausted. For a second a voice rose in me yelling at the chick to eat me. Dread had nothing on me. Anger flared, sight reddened, but the effect came undone when the chick dropped the thing she carried: a piece of the shelled beast that she had fought to save from her siblings. She happily chirped, telling me to eat.
I escaped.
What in the shade was wrong with her? Her behavior made no sense. Why would she do that? She was a predator and I was her prey!
Panic started to rise, but I pushed it away for the time being. It would erupt soon, but I could wait until I had found myself a good resting place to cry and worry.
I hid in the weaved mass, protected from all around, warm and cozy. I was uncertain of the chicks surviving if the hunter made its way to the nest. That thing was no frog. It had a mouth large enough to devour one instantly and a shell that looked tough and resistant. And it would come. Any predator worth the title would not leave such —relatively— easy targets alone.
It will make a meal out of the chicks —my inner demon laughed— especially the fourth one. The others will somehow escape, but she will be caught.
Not my problem! I yelled at it, the brazen, daring, shading voice. How dare it make fun of me!
The sky predator diligently came back, this time crying a dead mouse.
It smelled of death but everything had a small odor of death to them. You are dying every day.
She must have noticed the wounds on her daughter because this time she decided to feed them herself. Even though the biggest one cried for more, she fed them all equally, before flying away once again. She didn’t notice anything wrong with her surroundings, however. There would have been alarms ringing by now if something like that had entered so near our territory.
The three didn’t harry their sister needlessly but they warned her to stay out of their way.
Hunger was difficult to hold. You should have taken the help when it was given. I scolded myself for thinking such a baseless thing. A predator doesn’t help its prey. Maybe it considered me less than one? That made as much sense as me making it back to the 43rd city tomorrow.
Princess, I don’t think I’m going to make it. Once the thought would have been accompanied by notions of freedom, responsibility, and even likeness, but now there was only longing.
Be afraid. Her scent crisp and clear, I remembered. Be afraid. It echoed, again and again, until I was tired of it. Only then it changed. Break free. I
I came awoke from the nightmare. I must have worried myself to sleep because I didn’t remember it happening. Surprisingly, my head was clear as the sky above. I knew what I needed to do: Have to find my way to the 47th city. It was stubbornness, something I had gotten from her.
There were no trails to take me there, but event eh first trials had to be laid before there were any. Confidence didn’t mean I rushed out of the nest on an adventure. The hunter was waiting out there, somewhere it wouldn’t be noticed. It hadn’t attacked yet, but soon it would. For all I knew it could be hiding nearby, indistinguishable from nature, waiting for an opportunity.
That, I thought, will be my opportunity to escape.
However, I could only hold on without food for so long. And the system was no help. It blared in my mind messages of low endurance, something I had never heard before. They were warning, ploys to get the wheels rolling. The surface was the only place where I could get food, but the young chick was waiting for me when left my hiding place in the nest. The sight of her grey beak right above my head almost gave me a heart attack. She chirped happily, but from so close, it was no worse than an attack. I was stunned, couldn’t move, and couldn’t escape.
The big bully came awake at her chirp. Hiding food! He cried and pounced at her, and not just with his sharp beak. He even tried to claw her face, to blind her. She shrieked, this time in pain instead of hunger. The other two also came awake and started crying. They weren’t behind the bully. I dreaded for my life but the young chick shielded me. She didn’t move, even unfurled her wings to stop her brothers. They weren’t large like her mother, but feathered and daunting in their own right. That was an act of unexpected kindness.
They were still pecking her back when the stun lifted. I shied away from them under the twigs, but maybe she didn’t notice because she didn’t move.
Give! Give! The others chirped while she kept crying.
A drop of something sweet fell from her eyes and right atop of my head, unnaturally missing all the obstruction on the way. It was warm and sad.
I rushed out of my hiding spot, charged at her belly, dampening my momentum by rolling id-air. Yes, I did that. She noticed me and fluttered her wings in worry.
Don’t, was the only thing I could make out in a hurry, but that was enough. Why did everyone only wanted to give and never receive anything in return? I was being so stupid. The fate of my whole race was on the line. The princess was waiting for my return. And I was charging toward a predator a million times my size. What could I do alone?
I climbed atop of her head and charged toward the big bully. I prayed to the shade to not take me so early and targeted the aggressor’s eye. The bully lifted his head in surprise and I missed, bouncing off his beak.
But I found balance at the bridge of his nose, and out of options, released all my pheromones in an act to overwhelm him. I don’t know if it worked, but he sneezed and I was flung back. My savior, the fourth chick caught me, as the bully entered a sneezing fit. So maybe it did work? At least it got him off of her.
Did you see that? I released, only for it to fell on a head with no antenna. Communication was going to be a problem. The other two weighed their options and learning that she was only hiding a mere ant, not a frog's legs and decided to play it safe. They stepped back in a show of vigilance, staring between their leader and their sister, wondering what had happened.
I climbed atop her head as she fluttered her wings up and down in glee, an action that took her feet off the ground. Somehow she was flying, which was a happy occasion for her. There was just one small problem: My senses were tingling in absolute horror.
The shade had heard my plea and sent the hunter.
