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Chapter 3: Defiance

  It was so sudden.

  The being didn’t realize what was happening until rocks started digging into its side, breaking skin under the pressure. It tried weakly to get up, but was immediately shoved back against the ground, something big and heavy squashing it, with no way to wiggle out. It couldn’t even get enough space to move its limbs under itself.

  Confused, it tried to flow around as it had always done… and failed. Unfortunately its body had become too fixed. That meant many advantages, but also losing freedom of movement.

  The weight shifted again, and the being was relieved that its struggles had done something. Then, with a slight push, an even greater weight clamped down on both sides of its body, front and back. And the real pain began.

  It finally started to screech and fight back viciously. It punched, scratched, bit... gave everything it could think of, everything it could do to free itself from this hateful thing. Whatever was happening, it was bad. Something it needed to fight against or suffer horrible consequences.

  But the vise was unrelenting, completely unperturbed by its struggles. Rather than letting go, it started shaking, dragging back and forth against the rocky ground.

  It was excruciating. Some ligaments were pulled out of place or simply broken. Worse did the vise itself, puncturing its flesh worse than any rock.

  But the terrible maneuver happened to be helpful: the being had leverage now that it could make use of.

  It bucked and pushed and grasped, trying to extract itself, no matter the consequences. It felt pain, pain, and yet more pain. And knew it was doing terrible damage to its body, but bit by bit its flesh was slipping free.

  Only an arm was left in the vise, when things went awry.

  The force crushing down increased to an impossible amount. The being tried to match it and fight back even harder. Only, it was already giving its hardest. There wasn't anything more to give.

  And then… it found itself free.

  It was again so sudden and unexpected, that the being didn’t even realize as it smashed back to the ground and rolled with the motion, gravel getting stuck to its exposed flesh. Then, it didn’t know what to do. It started crawling backwards, but more out of instinct than any choice on its part.

  It found itself lying against a big boulder a moment later, feeding distractedly, trying to mend the damage.

  But the pain in its arm wasn't going away. If anything, it was getting worse.

  The being touched around dazedly where it hurt most, with the arm that was least damaged... Something was wrong.

  It hadn’t been long since it had changed, but this part shouldn’t feel this way. It should… It finally looked down and was stunned by what it saw.

  Where had its arm gone?

  The being felt around and looked all over its body, but didn’t find the limb anywhere. Which was a truly new experience.

  Before, it had happened that things weren’t in the place it remembered them, as much as it could distinguish parts of itself back then. Like when a wayward rock would splash onto it and the being would always come out in new and awkward shapes. This felt very different.

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  It felt like… like…

  like part of itself was gone forever. And the being was lesser for it. The dripping stump made it certain of that.

  And wasn’t that a strange thought?

  It raised its gaze, intending to look around for the missing part – to at least know where it had ended up - and stopped dead, as it finally discovered the cause of its suffering.

  Sometimes, it had also happened that the wayward rock didn’t bounce off of its mass, but sunk in, trapping it momentarily. Even the ground itself could shift and cause a similar situation, every once in a while. A common occurrence, in the before, and it had always taken some time to get free.

  The being had figured something like that had happened, and it was only the new constraints of its body that had rendered such a trivial situation so painful and dangerous.

  But it wasn't any rock that acted against it, this time. It wasn’t the ground.

  Terrified, the being pushed back hard against the boulder, trying to disappear into it, to hide in any way before what was in front of it took notice.

  A mass of flesh, much bigger than the being, was pawing around in front of it. All cruel claws, sharp quills, quivering flesh. And an enormous mouth - currently intent on snapping at something on the gravel - that could easily inflict tremendous damage.

  Or sever limbs.

  It was the errant, clearly not as docile as assumed. Something superior to the ground and the rocks. Superior to the being. Their kind didn’t just react to what happened around them. They could decide things. And this one had clearly decided to hurt it.

  And so the being kept dragging itself backwards against the rock. Trying to make as much distance as possible, undetected.

  It was hard.

  The errant hadn’t just inflicted pain. It hadn’t just severed an arm. The being wasn’t feeling well, deeper inside. And looking at the jagged band its stump had painted on the boulder was making it feel even worse.

  Each tiny little step was inflicting damage, wasting time while accomplishing very little. Truly, the being didn’t even believe it was fooling the errant: almost certainly, the thing knew where it was.

  It just didn’t care.

  ...which was provoking some strange reactions inside, opposite to its first instincts to run away.

  The more time passed with the errant ignoring it, pawing around uselessly... the more the fear faded.

  The more the being reconsidered what had happened, the wrongness of it… the more that fear turned into something else.

  It had just been doing its own thing. Enjoying the life it had transformed into, and exploring the new, wonderful world it had found itself in. Just as its fellow errant should have.

  Because that’s what the being was now, wasn’t it? It had become an errant too.

  Yet, something just like it had brutally attacked, completely unprovoked, and was now chewing on its bitten off arm for some reason. It wasn't even enjoying the action! judging by how it kept spitting, whining and dragging its head against the ground.

  And now, the errant thought it could simply ignore it?

  What had the point even been? Why cause so much damage?

  And it was quite a lot of damage, the being now realized, not only because of the arm. Many things deep inside had been twisted and torn apart. Whatever had been dripping from the stump, and from the many gashes littering its body… it felt important. And it had been losing more and more of it.

  The being didn’t think it would ever recover. If it could even survive at all, because it was only feeling worse and worse as time went on.

  This knowledge, as with everything since its choice, came from an unknown place within. But it rang true. The being might be dying. Whatever that meant. It didn’t feel like a concept that should apply to it. Simply ending was...

  It might be dying, and there was nothing to do about it.

  After so long spent wallowing in a crack in the ground, it had finally made a choice, ascending to become more than it ever was. And immediately, all was taken away.

  It was a lot. Many contrasting and crushing feelings for a very simple mind.

  But there was one thing it felt certain about: if it was up to it, none of this would have happened. They both would have gone their way without bothering each other.

  So if it truly was over for the being, it would first show the errant how that felt.

  … but how to accomplish that?

  Those terrifying claws would tear its flesh apart in no time, and that jaw had already shown what it was capable of. Getting closer was dangerous too: the errant was still thrashing and stomping wildly about. A hit from one of those hooves and it would be over.

  And even if it managed to slip by, there were its natural defenses. The being didn't feel confident it could pierce them while missing an arm. Maybe not even if it were healthy.

  But the enemy wasn’t in perfect health either.

  Looking it over more carefully, not everywhere was as impregnable as the rest: many places were missing fur and dripping profusely, and… did it even have all its legs? That didn't feel quite the right number. And the limbs it did have weren't in the best of shapes.

  One in particular looked very bad, dragging on the ground weakly, all flabby and bending too much, even the wrong way at times. Its shell was more breaches than defense, at this point.

  It would do.

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