Chapter 11: Feast and Flight

The jungle was never quiet for long.

By now, I had learned the pattern—death always brought life. Whenever something big died, smaller creatures would come crawling out of the shadows, desperate for their share. Scavengers, hunters, opportunists.

Just like me.

That's why, when I smelled blood thick in the air, I followed it without hesitation.

Through the trees, past broken branches and torn-up earth, I crept forward, my heart pounding with anticipation.

Then I saw it.

A Skullcrawler.

It stood over the fresh corpse of some large beast, its long, pale body coiling as it tore into the flesh with its oversized maw. Blood dripped from its teeth, pooling beneath its massive frame.

I pressed myself low to the ground, barely breathing.

I had seen one before, but only from a distance. Now, watching it feast just a few tail-lengths away, I felt my instincts screaming at me to run.

But I stayed.

Because I knew what would happen next.

The Skullcrawler ate greedily, ripping through the carcass with violent efficiency. It didn't leave much—but that was the way of this island. Eat fast, or someone else will.

Then, just as suddenly as it arrived, it slithered away, vanishing into the trees.

I waited.

Listened.

When I was sure it was gone, I ran forward and devoured what was left.

The meat was still warm, fresh, thick with the energy of whatever beast had fallen here. I ate as much as I could, my claws tearing through the scraps, my jaws crunching through sinew and fat.

Strength filled me, raw and powerful.

Then I heard them.

Footsteps. Snarls. Growls.

Other scavengers, drawn by the same scent.

I spun around just as they emerged from the jungle—two reptilian creatures, their yellow eyes locked onto the carcass, their sharp teeth bared. Not as big as the Skullcrawler, not as dangerous, but still threats.

They wanted this food.

And I wasn't ready to give it up.

One lunged at me. I dodged, snapping my jaws at its face. My claws raked across its snout, drawing blood. It screeched and fell back, but the second one charged in, trying to catch me off guard.

This time, I didn't dodge.

I met it head-on, clamping my teeth onto its throat. It thrashed, its claws tearing at my side, but I didn't let go. With a powerful twist, I slammed it into the ground.

It was still alive, but dazed.

That was all I needed.

I grabbed the lizard in my claws—half my size but still a worthy prize—and launched into the air.

And this time… I didn't fall.

The strength in my wings was different now. No longer weak, no longer fleeting. The sky was mine.

For the first time, I wasn't just gliding, wasn't just flapping for a few seconds before crashing back down.

I was flying.

Minutes passed, and I was still in the air.

Ten minutes.

The jungle below grew smaller, the trees stretching out like an endless green sea.

I had done it.

I was no longer bound to the ground, no longer a creature that had to run from danger.

I was becoming something else.

Something greater.

Something unstoppable.