Chapter 31: A Gesture Returned

The jungle had settled back into its usual rhythm, the sounds of insects buzzing, distant birds cawing, and leaves whispering in the wind. The sun was rising higher, its warmth soaking into my scales as I stood beside the pond.

I looked down into the water, watching the fish dart and scatter beneath the surface. They were growing in number now. My little ecosystem was thriving—because I made it so. Because I chose to build something instead of just burn and destroy.

But something sat in my chest—quiet, not heavy, not loud. Just there.

Gratitude.

It didn't make sense. Not really. I hadn't owed Kong anything. I wasn't weak. I'd slain Ramarak. But deep down, I knew… I wouldn't have had that chance if Kong hadn't already worn the monster down. His fight softened the beast. Distracted it. Slowed it. And when it was over, he didn't try to claim the kill or challenge me for it. He let me take it.

He even thanked me.

And today, I wanted to return that gesture. Not because I had to.

Because I wanted to.

I slipped into the pond. The water cooled my scales as I glided silently beneath the surface. My movements were fluid, practiced. I wasn't just a fire-breathing creature of destruction—I was more. Patient. Tactical. I'd become part of the island's balance.

One by one, I began catching fish. Big ones. Fast ones. Clean strikes with my claws, powerful bursts with my tail. In less than an hour, I had gathered a modest pile—nowhere near enough for someone like Kong, but it was something. A symbol.

My mate watched as I took to the sky with the fish clutched tightly in my claws. She didn't question it. She just gave a low hum, and one of the cubs tried to follow me until she held him back.

This was something I had to do alone.

It didn't take long to find Kong. He wasn't far—just west of the valley, near a river bend where the trees gave way to ancient stone ruins that had long been swallowed by moss and time.

He was sitting.

Resting.

Wounded, but calm.

The humans were gone, or maybe just out of sight, letting their king have peace. I landed a short distance from him, the fish thudding onto the soft earth between us.

Kong's head turned slightly.

His eyes landed on the offering.

Just fish—tiny, probably barely a snack for a creature his size.

But he stared at them for a long time.

And then… he nodded.

Slow. Measured. Eyes meeting mine.

Not amused.

Not surprised.

Just… acknowledging.

I nodded back.

There were no words, no grand ceremony. No roars. No beating chests or spreading wings.

Just understanding.

Two creatures shaped by survival.

One had ruled this land for years.

The other was rising.

I didn't do it to gain favor or alliance. I didn't do it to curry protection or power.

I did it because something deep inside me—the part that still remembered being human, maybe—understood that gestures mattered.

Even among monsters.

I turned, leaving the fish where they lay, and took off into the sky once more. Below me, I saw Kong still watching until the trees swallowed his figure.

The wind rushed past my horns, and for a moment, the weight in my chest eased.

I wasn't just surviving Skull Island anymore.

I was living in it.

Part of its story.

Part of its balance.

And maybe, just maybe, I was becoming something even greater.