Moth and Skink

Something landed on the ledge before the light did. I felt it first, a soft tap through the wood, then nothing. My eyes didn't open, because there was nothing to open them with. They had been seeing the whole time. I just started paying attention again.

A moth sat three body lengths away. It was pale, almost white, with wings as wide as my old hand and faint gray rings on each one, like eyes drawn by someone who had only heard of eyes. Moths flutter. This one sat perfectly still and faced me.

Hunger Clock: 52%.

"Breakfast," I thought.
"Grab it," the Echo said. "Just reach out and grab it."

I reached. That was the problem. My scythes came forward like arms, slow and wide, and the moth lifted off the wood the moment they moved. It didn't panic. It rose, drifted once around my head, and hung in the air a second longer than it needed to. Then it was gone into the mist.

I stayed there with my scythes stuck out in front of me, holding nothing.
"That was embarrassing," the Echo said.
It was. I almost laughed. I didn't know if I could laugh anymore, but something in my chest clicked twice, and I decided that counted.

Strange moth. It hadn't flown off like it was scared of me. It had flown off like it was done looking. I filed that away, and I'd forgotten it by the time my stomach pulled at me again.

I went down to the stream. The water ran black and cold over flat stones, and things lived along the bank. I could feel them through my legs, small fast tremors under the leaves. One of them came out to drink.

It was a lizard, longer than me from nose to tail. Brown and green scales, a ridge of little spines down its back, and a throat that pulsed while it drank.

[Sense]
Target: Bank Skink ~ Lv.2
Threat: Moderate

Moderate. One level above me and twice my weight. My stomach didn't care about the math.

"Run at it," the Echo said. "It's drinking. Go now."

I went. Four steps in, my back legs tangled with my front ones. The skink heard me, spun, and opened its mouth. Rows of small hooked teeth. It lunged. I threw a scythe up on instinct and caught it across the jaw. It wasn't a cut, just a shove, but it knocked the bite wide, and its teeth scraped down my side instead of closing on it.

Shell: -4

The pain was sharp but not deep. The skink backed off and hissed, tail lashing. I backed off too, and we stared at each other.

"Again," the Echo said. "Hit it again before it~"
"No," I thought back.

It was the first time I had argued with it.

I stopped moving. Not frozen. Still, the way my body wanted to be still. My legs settled into the mud on their own, and my scythes folded up under my head without me telling them to. The skink tilted its head. It didn't understand stillness. To it, something that doesn't move isn't a threat.

[Stillness] active
Ambush Rating: charging…

The skink took a step toward me, then another. Curious, or maybe just as hungry as I was. Its tongue flicked out and tasted the air near my face, and I let it. Whatever pumped inside me now was going fast. I could feel my whole body at once: the weight on each leg, the tension coiled in my forelegs like a drawn bow, and the lag between thought and motion shrinking because I wasn't thinking at all.

The marker filled.

I struck. Both scythes in one sharp snap, faster than anything I had done yet. The hooks closed behind the skink's head and locked. It thrashed, and it was strong. Its tail whipped into my legs and nearly knocked me over, and its claws raked mud into my face. I held on. I shifted my weight back, planted, and let it wear itself out against my grip.

It twisted one more time and tried to roll. I rolled with it, and that surprised me. My body already knew how to do that. We went over once in the mud, and when we stopped I was on top, still holding on. Then I bit down.

It went still.

[Kill] Bank Skink ~ Lv.2
XP gained.

I stayed there a moment, breathing hard, mud smeared across eyes I couldn't blink, my hooks still locked. I had done that. Not the old me, and not the Echo. Me, in this body, doing what it was built to do. It felt good, and not only because of the food. It was the fight, that moment when I stopped trying to be a person and just moved.

In my old life I had never been good at anything physical. I sat at a desk. I got winded on stairs. I watched other people be strong and fast and told myself it didn't matter. It did matter. I just hadn't known how much until now.

For the first time in either life, I had won something by being exactly what I was.

I ate. The skink was better than the beetle, richer, and there was more of it. The Clock climbed as I fed.

Hunger Clock: 78%

Then came the notification I had been waiting for.

[LEVEL UP]
Nestling Mantis ~ Lv.2
All stats +3
Skill points: 4 + 4 = 8

Eight points. I sat back on my rear legs and pulled up my status.

Nestling Mantis ~ Lv.2 ~ Mantara
Might 7 | Agility 9 | Shell 6
Sense 8 | Will 7 | Insight 10
Skill points: 8

I thought it through properly. That was what Insight was for. My problem wasn't strength. The skink hadn't almost beaten me because I was weak. It had almost beaten me because I was late, late to see it turn and late to move. Sense would let me see sooner, and Agility would let me move sooner. I put four into each.

Agility 9 → 13
Sense 8 → 12
Skill points: 0

The change hit right away. The mist looked thinner. I could pick out single drops falling from the leaves above, and the sounds sorted themselves out: water, wind, the tick of something small under a rock. I lifted a leg and it lifted when I wanted it to. Not after. When.

I walked a circle on the bank just to feel it, then another one faster. I didn't trip once.

"You're enjoying this," the Echo said. Its voice was quieter than yesterday, further back.
"Yes," I thought. "I am."

I climbed back to my ledge with mud drying on my shell and a full stomach. Up in the branches, something pale shifted and went still again.

I didn't look up.