Warmth. Wetness. Darkness.
That was all there was. That was all it knew.
It?
No, him. For so long he had existed in the void, but it was only recently that he had gained awareness. Floating endlessly in that black bliss, in the dim comfort of nothingness.
But now there was something different. A new feeling arose within him, crushing, choking, like some part of him was missing. He could hear sounds. Cries, howls. These were not from the void. They had never been in the void. They were far, distant.
They were on the outside. The place he should be.
With strength he was barely aware he had he twisted and writhed in place, blindly feeling and groping even if he didn’t know what he aimed for. Little fingers felt something solid and smooth all around. When jabbed with pointy bits, it gave in. Brief cracking noises. White and shiny dots were beginning to appear. He had to keep pushing
For the first time he strained his muscles and the surface was torn open.
And suddenly everything was white, flashing, blinding. Eyes that had never been used before squinted and ached. For the briefest moment he thought he saw something in front of him, something dark and looming. But then his pupils adjusted to the light, and that image disappeared.
What was left in place was a true spectacle. Green, blue and brown as far as his eyes could see. Things that stood high and majestic upwards. Things that swayed slowly, displaying the most dazzling colours. Things that flapped gracefully in the blue above. Sounds of every possible description resonating here and there. And something invisible brushing him so softly, drying the primordial fluids drenching his body. What a new experience it was.
For the first time he sucked in fresh air. A plethora of scents passed through his little nose, particles of long-dead ones entering his little lungs and introducing his body to the touch of decay
His young throat let out his first sound, but those weren’t truly words, a mewling croak still thick on unborn mucus. Soon enough he found himself answered. Others like him were close, young and fresh like him, but older. He had never seen them before, but instinctively he knew. The same smell, the same ilk. They were family. He was not alone.
So excited he was that he tried to go with them, but those were limbs he had never used to walk. Clumsily he tripped on the broken eggshell and rolled outside, falling on his chin. That also felt new. Fresh dirt and squashed grass and crawling insects against his soft skin. And that brief burning feeling from before. He didn’t like it.
It was the squamataur’s first taste of life. He had so much to learn.
Subject: Fresh 
Sat Apr 09, 2011 8:16 am
