Eggs

The night was still, but Kuma was wide awake.

The snap of the tripwire had set his instincts on edge, and now he crouched low, gripping his crude spear as he listened. The fire crackled behind him, its warmth at his back, but his attention was locked on the darkness beyond the treeline.

Something was out there.

The rustling grew louder, twigs snapping under heavy weight. He could hear the slow, deliberate movement of a large creature. His heart pounded as he tightened his grip, adjusting his stance. Was this it? Another predator? Had something bigger caught his scent?

Then, a new sound—deep, rhythmic thuds against wood.

Kuma frowned. That didn't sound like a stalking beast.

Cautiously, he crept forward, keeping low, using the glow of his fire only to guide his peripheral vision. As he rounded the nearest tree, the culprit came into view.

An Ironback Forager—a squat, heavily plated creature about the size of a small cow. Its shell gleamed faintly in the moonlight, ridged and dented from years of battering against trees. It wasn't a hunter. It wasn't even aggressive.

It was just annoying.

Kuma exhaled sharply, his tension bleeding into frustration. Ironback Foragers were tree-eaters, their primary method of feeding involving smashing their heads against trunks until the bark loosened enough for them to chew through. It wasn't a problem if they were far away.

But this one was too close to camp.

If it decided to start its midnight feast near his tree, the noise alone would keep him up. Worse, if it picked the wrong tree—his tree—it might compromise his sleeping spot. Kuma glanced upward at the branches where his bedroll was secured, then back to the forager.

Yeah, this thing has to go.

A Stealthy Eviction

For a moment, he considered scaring it off.

But scaring an Ironback was a bad idea.

These things were stubborn. If he startled it, there was a chance it might panic and charge aimlessly—which meant it could slam into his shelter. Not exactly an ideal outcome.

He needed a better approach.

His mind raced through the options. Fire? No. Too risky in the forest. Throwing something? No. That might just make it more curious.

Then an idea struck him—bait.

He rummaged through his supplies, pulling out a length of vine rope he had crafted earlier. Quickly, he tied together a bundle of dried leaves and berries, something aromatic enough to catch the creature's attention. He secured it to a long string and tossed it a few feet ahead of the forager.

It paused mid-headbutt, nostrils flaring.

Kuma slowly pulled the bait along the ground, careful not to jerk the motion too suddenly. The Ironback Forager let out a low snort and began to follow, its heavy body shifting clumsily as it lumbered forward.

So far, so good.

Kuma led it deeper into the trees, every step calculated. The night air was thick with tension, every rustle of leaves amplifying in his ears. The further they moved, the more distance he put between it and his shelter.

Then, a twig snapped beneath his foot.

The forager froze.

Kuma held his breath. Had he ruined it?

A tense second passed… then another.

The creature let out a low, throaty grunt and resumed following the bait.

Kuma silently exhaled. Close one.

After a few more careful minutes, he led it to a clearing and tossed the bait deeper into the woods. The forager, seemingly satisfied, turned its attention to the offering. Kuma took the opportunity to slip away, retracing his steps toward the faint glow of his fire in the distance.

Back at camp, he finally allowed himself a smirk.

Problem solved. Time to sleep.

A Morning Craving

The next morning, Kuma woke up with an unexpected craving.

Eggs.

It hit him out of nowhere. One second, he was stretching out his sore limbs; the next, the thought of a perfectly cooked egg filled his mind. A runny yolk. A firm white. Maybe some seasoning, maybe some crispy edges on the side. His stomach rumbled.

"Damn it," he muttered. "Why eggs?"

He rubbed his face, trying to shake the thought, but now his hunger was fixated. He needed to get food, and more importantly, he needed eggs.

That's when he remembered something.

The Webweaver Finch.

A small, vibrant bird he had encountered before. Unlike normal birds, it had a strange habit—it chewed on fibrous plants and spat out thin, web-like strands, weaving sticky traps along the branches to catch insects.

And where there were Webweaver Finches… there were nests.

Which meant eggs.

Checking the Traps

But first—the traps.

Before he could go gallivanting for eggs, he had to check the snares and fish traps he had set up near the swamp. Survival came first, cravings second.

His first stop was a small, shallow pool where he had rigged a basket trap. As he lifted it, he felt resistance. His heart leapt a little.

When he pulled it free, he grinned. Inside were several Puddle Prawns—tiny, energetic crustaceans with translucent shells. They darted wildly inside the trap, their bodies flashing under the morning light.

"Jackpot."

Puddle Prawns were fast, and their camouflage made them hard to catch by hand. But a well-placed trap did the work for him.

He imagined them fried, crispy on the outside, paired with—

Eggs.

The craving returned with full force. Kuma shook his head and continued his rounds, checking his other traps. A few carp-like fish wriggled in his woven fish basket, along with a couple of perch-like species that had a faint, bioluminescent stripe running down their backs.

More food for later.

But right now? He had one goal in mind.

Eggs.

Climbing to the Prize

With his traps checked and food secured, Kuma finally turned his attention to finding a nest.

He scanned the treetops, searching for signs of finches. And then—movement. A flurry of tiny wings flitting between branches. Web-like strands glistening in the sunlight.

Bingo.

The nest was high up—too high for a normal climb. But Kuma wasn't a normal climber anymore. He had been getting better, adapting. Maybe, just maybe, he could make it.

Grinning to himself, he rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles.

"Time to work for my breakfast."

Climbing to the Prize

Kuma wiped the sweat from his forehead as he stared up at the towering tree. The Webweaver Finch nest was perched high—far higher than he'd anticipated. The branches looked thin and brittle, and the trunk had barely any footholds.

"Figures. Nothing worth having comes easy," he muttered, rolling his shoulders.

Taking a deep breath, he reached for the lowest branch and hoisted himself up. The bark was rough against his hands, and he tested each hold carefully. He had learned his lesson about reckless climbing after a few past falls—none too serious, but enough to humble him.

The higher he climbed, the more precarious it became. A few times, he felt the branches crack under his weight, forcing him to quickly shift his position. His arms ached, his fingers burned, but finally, there it was—the nest.

His heart pounded as he reached inside, feeling for the warmth of eggs. But instead, his fingers brushed against empty shells.

His excitement plummeted. He lifted the broken pieces—remnants of life that had already hatched and flown.

"Damn. Just missed them," he sighed.

Still, he pocketed the shells. They might come in handy for something—fertilizer, traps, or even just a reminder that he almost had his prize.

A Frustrating Search

He wasn't about to give up just yet. Carefully descending, he moved through the forest, searching for more nests. He found two more in different trees, but both had suffered the same fate—empty, abandoned, and filled only with cracked eggshells.

It was frustrating, to say the least. He had hyped himself up for eggs only to come up empty-handed.

"Tomorrow," he told himself. "I'll try again tomorrow."

With a sigh, he turned back toward his water filter near the swamp.

A Strange Discovery

As he approached the swamp, something felt off. The air was too still, the usual background noise of chirping insects and rustling leaves oddly absent. And then, he saw it.

A mound.

It hadn't been there a few days ago. A large heap of soil and sand, packed tightly together, standing ominously near the water's edge.

Kuma's instincts screamed at him to be cautious. He crouched low, gripping his spear as he scanned the surroundings.

Using Analyze, he focused on the mound.

[Soil and Sand Composition Detected. No Immediate Threat Identified.]

Kuma frowned. That was unhelpful.

The silence of the swamp felt oppressive, but his curiosity pushed him forward. He poked at one of the small holes in the mound with a long stick. Something rolled inside.

Not an animal.

Emboldened, he took a deep breath and reached inside with his hand. His fingers brushed against something smooth, cool… and round.

His heart leaped.

He pulled it out.

An egg.

The Treasure—Eggs!

For a moment, Kuma just stared at it, hardly daring to believe his luck. His mind exploded with possibilities—fried eggs, scrambled eggs, egg-battered prawns.

He quickly reached in again, pulling out more. One after another, until he had a total of sixteen.

It was a gold mine.

Carefully, he cradled them in his pack, treating them like the most valuable thing he'd ever owned. With a grin plastered on his face, he began the trek back to camp.

Tonight was going to be legendary.

A Shocking Revelation

As he set the eggs down near his firepit, something nagged at him.

The shape… it was slightly off. Too elongated, with strange, jagged lines running across the shells.

A pit formed in his stomach. This wasn't normal.

He activated Analyze.

[Predatory Reptilian Egg. Species: Unknown.]

Silence fell over the camp. Kuma exhaled sharply, gripping the egg. Reptilian.

"Oh… you've got to be kidding me."

His mind raced. This wasn't a Webweaver Finch's clutch. It wasn't even from a Bog Snapper. No, these eggs belonged to something else entirely.

Something dangerous.

He had just pulled sixteen of them from the nest of a predator he had yet to encounter.

For a long moment, he just stared at the eggs, processing his own stupidity. He had stolen the eggs of a swamp predator.

But then, his stomach growled.

"…Eh. Not my problem. I just need to be super careful of that area."

If there was a mother nearby, she hadn't shown herself, and he wasn't about to let good food go to waste.

He let out a long, slow breath, forcing himself to calm down. What's done is done.

The Ultimate Egg Fry Party

Kuma worked quickly, setting up his cooking area. His stomach growled in anticipation as he prepped his ingredients. Puddle Prawns—plump and glistening from the swamp traps—lay cleaned and ready. Wild mushrooms, gathered earlier, were sliced thin. And, of course, the eggs.

He heated a flat stone over the fire, watching as it darkened from the heat. He sliced open a Dotted Firefruit, its spicy aroma immediately stinging his nose. The seeds were the real source of heat, so he carefully set them aside for later.

Drizzling a small amount of rendered fat onto the stone, he let it heat before placing a few mushrooms on top.

Sizzle.

The sound alone made his mouth water. The prawns curled, their translucent shells turning a vibrant orange. The scent was intoxicating—rich, slightly sweet, with a deep umami undertone.

Bog Cap Mushrooms (Fried in Egg Batter)

[Analyze Output]A common fungus growing on the damp bark of swamp trees. While mildly bitter when raw, cooking it enhances its umami depth, making it a perfect ingredient for frying. The mushroom's porous structure absorbs flavors, leading to a rich, earthy bite.

Description: "The concentrated nutrients from the mushroom stimulate the senses, making the world feel just a bit sharper. (effect: temporary)"

Next, he cracked an egg against the stone. The yolk spilled out, golden and thick, slightly more viscous than a chicken egg. As it cooked, the edges crisped up beautifully, the aroma mixing with the spice of the Firefruit.

Golden Reed Eggs (Pan-Fried with Wild Honey & Dotted Firefruit)

[Analyze Output]Eggs laid by an unknown species, found hidden in soft swamp mounds. Their deep golden yolk carries a slightly smoky aftertaste, and when fried, they develop a crisp outer layer with a molten, creamy center. The combination of wild honey and Dotted Firefruit gives them a complex balance of heat and sweetness.

Description: "A comforting warmth spreads through the body, restoring energy just a little faster than usual. (effect: temporary)"

He then dipped the prawns into the egg, coating them before setting them back onto the stone, creating a makeshift batter.

The result? A crispy, golden outer layer with a soft, succulent center. He took a bite, and his entire body tensed.

Puddle Prawns (Tempura-Style)

[Analyze Output]A freshwater crustacean found in shallow swamp pools. Its translucent shell hides a surprising amount of firm, flavorful meat. When cooked, it becomes crisp on the outside while maintaining a juicy, tender texture. Known for its natural energy-boosting properties.

Description: "The natural energy stored in the prawn's muscle fibers invigorates the body, making movement feel a little lighter. (effect: temporary)"

The initial crunch gave way to an explosion of flavor.

The prawn's natural sweetness mixed with the deep, savory richness of the egg.

Then came the burn—the slow, creeping heat from the Firefruit, followed by the delicate kiss of wild honey that balanced everything perfectly.

He closed his eyes, savoring every second.

"Holy—" He swallowed, nearly groaning. "This… this is incredible."

He fried more. Prawns, mushrooms, more eggs. Each bite was a revelation, a reminder that even in a world determined to kill him, he could still find joy.

Tonight, he wasn't just surviving.

He was living.

Tonight, he feasted.

Little did he know that he'd soon deal with the consequences of his little egg heist.