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Delta knows the danger. She holds memories, running through the jungle with the heat on her heels and stinking smoke smothering every scent. Staying away from the worst danger meant coming back to the mammal pack – not by choice, as she remembers chasing Owen’s smell on the wind with the rest of her sisters. Gone, gone, gone, all gone. Except for the small one. The feathered, ugly one that climbs on Delta like Delta is a tree with more curiosity than instinct.
But she does not see the little raptor among the mammal pack, and she blames their rank stench and smothering smoke for not smelling her sister out. Delta sees aberrant behavior, the mammals scuttling like ants – even carrying burdens like ants carry food. She smells some of the food they carry, hunks of smoked meats and fresh meats and plants and other things she holds no interest in.
Those clever eyes sharply move from boat to boat, not recognizing their function even as Delta understands the mammal pack finds them important. This is where the creatures move all their smelly stuff, chattering loudly with their annoying vocalizations. Delta distrusts the mammal pack – she also is not convinced of their intelligence, as they follow an injured subadult that almost all of the members could overpower individually. She dislikes the floating hunks of wood on principle, not understanding how they float and therefore not trusting the contraptions to stay afloat long-term.
Pulling her lips back, Delta moves through little crowd of creatures towards the dome. But she stops in her tracks, kicking up sand and huffing as she sees how it goes underground. The lava goes down, as she remembers, like water. No, Delta wants to stand somewhere high away from the lava – there are few places like that on the island, however.
She needs to move on. Cross the tiny long bridge, perhaps. She thinks of her options, for once ignoring the potential meals around her – many of which stink of fear – as she thinks of outsmarting lava. Clearly, the mammals are no help by relying on floating wood and underground places.
But she does not see the little raptor among the mammal pack, and she blames their rank stench and smothering smoke for not smelling her sister out. Delta sees aberrant behavior, the mammals scuttling like ants – even carrying burdens like ants carry food. She smells some of the food they carry, hunks of smoked meats and fresh meats and plants and other things she holds no interest in.
Those clever eyes sharply move from boat to boat, not recognizing their function even as Delta understands the mammal pack finds them important. This is where the creatures move all their smelly stuff, chattering loudly with their annoying vocalizations. Delta distrusts the mammal pack – she also is not convinced of their intelligence, as they follow an injured subadult that almost all of the members could overpower individually. She dislikes the floating hunks of wood on principle, not understanding how they float and therefore not trusting the contraptions to stay afloat long-term.
Pulling her lips back, Delta moves through little crowd of creatures towards the dome. But she stops in her tracks, kicking up sand and huffing as she sees how it goes underground. The lava goes down, as she remembers, like water. No, Delta wants to stand somewhere high away from the lava – there are few places like that on the island, however.
She needs to move on. Cross the tiny long bridge, perhaps. She thinks of her options, for once ignoring the potential meals around her – many of which stink of fear – as she thinks of outsmarting lava. Clearly, the mammals are no help by relying on floating wood and underground places.