FINALLY! I'M FINALLY OUT! 

Ha! Take that you big mossy pile of rocks! Nothing can stop me! Except Mama..

Anyway! Finally being able to move around again is absolutely awesome! Taking a few moments to stretch out for some reason, I yawn and a light whistling sound pulls free from my throat. Giggling at the pretty noise, I try and recreate it as I begin the walk home.

Almost instantly though, something makes me freeze. There's a...scent. I never really though about it before, but I've never really smelled anything. At least until now. Before it was like the sensation was pulled from a distant memory. Now though, it's here, in my face....squelching between my toes. Looking down...yeah, that used to be a face. After a little jump and titter I'm back where I was, albeit back a few feet so I can see more than just...a face painting?

Yeeeaaaahhh.....ew. That looks disgusting but...but the smell. Tentatively, I reach my beak down and latch on to one of the larger...pieces left. Leaning my head up, I slowly allow the sliver of meat to slide down my tongue and down to wherever the other Rulka went.

FEED.

The urge hits me, and whithin a second I was licking and scraping the ground around me. Dirt, fungus, Rulka...it didn't matter. Anything my tongue made contact with was soon travelling to my tummy. I cleaned that tunnel from one end to the other, as high and as low as I coud reach. 

Finally completing my sudden task, I am awarded with a message from the Squiglies. Something about bioweight, but honestly having to keep looking at that every time I eat is going to be annoying. After a few questions, I managed to convince them to hold off on telling me about the bioweight until it reached a certain point. I still didn't feel any different, but I would guess that a hunk of rock would weigh more than some...floppy stuff.

+3 Int.

Huh...guess I was right. 

Turning back in the direction of Mama's cave, I begin a slow amble towards home. My legs still don't feel like my own, but the feeding frenzy earlier helped me get a bit more used to the changes that happened. The path was slow, and somewhat winding at points. I started to notice an immediate difference once I began reaching some of the narrower tunnels, especially at the midway point between the attack and home. Boulders, stalagmites, even a few Rulka corpses along the way were all torn apart or stomped to a fine mush. I'm guessing that Mountain made a mad dash through here as soon as he was actually able to pick up some momentum. He was a slow lug, but give him some time and he isn't something you want to be infront of.

Admittedly still on edge, every nook and shadow that I pass is making me a little more than edgy. I can still imagine that first Rulka dropping onto my brother's head, the casual arrogance that it displayed. I'm almost certain that it could have taken his eyes as it landed. We have to star tbeing more careful around here. If what Lilac said is true...things will only get worse as we get older. Mama is covered in scars, not to mention the many chunks of stone that have fallen from her shell and 'flesh'. 

I don't like to think about it, but there's this little pile of rubble in one end of our nest. It...it looks like us. LIke....the ones Mama couldn't protect. She never looks at it, never gets near it. I don't want to end up in that pile, or let any of my siblings find their rest there either. Which means that before I leave I have to get everyone ready. Prepared to live in this world that wants to throw everything it can at us.

_______

Approaching the nest, I see a shell a few tunnels away from our home caves. I opened my mouth to say hello, but the little rock tortoise turned and ran the moment that he laid eyes on me. I guess that makes sense, I probably look quite different compared to when I left. Besides, I didn't exactly recognize him, so we probably aren't all that familiar in the first place. We may be siblings, but Mama has about twenty of us at the nest in total, so it makes sense that not everyone stays in the same groups.

Getting closer though, not only does the scene begin to repeat itself, but I even start to hear squeaks and low roars coming from the nest. They must really be considering me a threat, but that's just the safe thing to do when a new monster is in the area. Deciding to take the cautious route, I begin letting out quiet, soft rumbling from the top of my mouth. It was meant to signify a wish for peace, or at least that's what I gathered the few times other Rock Tortoises had neared Mama's territory.

This seemed to work, and soon a reply echoed through the tunnels, followed by the chorus of voices slowly dwindling down to one lone protester. Entering my home, I immediately notice that everything is different. Well, it's still a cave. And there's still a bunch of bones making up the actual nest, it's just....

Who are these guys?

None of my siblings are here. Mountain, Tiny, Pretty Shell, Brownie, Chippy, Momu, none of them is here. Instead of the darker, earthy tones traced and smudged by brighter shades, this group seems mostly comprised of lightly shaded bodies and mottled pink/blue shells. 

Panic begins to creep up the bottom of my shell, and ever so slightly, my knees tremble. Then...then I make the mistake of looking at the new 'piles' that seem to have been added around the larger edge of the nest.

Before, the back of our home had been pressed against the wall of the cavern with a decent outcropping to give slope. Now though, that ledge had been replaced with boulders of various sizes. Excpet...I knew that they weren't boulders. I...I can see Mama's worn down face from here, the insects and creatures that had previously been confined to her shell now moving freely through her open mouth and nose. I feel the urge to collapse, to fall down right there and never move again, but the rest of the bodies on that ledge demanded that I look at them. One by one, I did. Little by little, the compulsion to die was replaced with one far stronger...far more difficult. 

I would live, I would survive. If only to carry their memory with me.

Congratulations, and sympathies, you have gained the title "Of all, two." Permanant increase in chance of being one of two to survive an encounter. To explainvia example, , should you and five others be in a situation in which only two have the chance to survive, your are automatically 5% more likely to be a chosen survivor.

Ha, laugh at me why don't you. Sigh...alright, thank you Squiglies. Though, I don't get why it's tw-....Sister?

Before me, having circled around the far edge of the nest and into sight, was a tortoise that looked faintly like mother. It's just..she's so...old, her shell dulled to a barely white-grey. Slowly, we approach each other with a shared sense of wonder and confusion. Then, like wind along a dust filled tunnel, the old tortoise began to speak.

Though she mostly seemed to be rambling, it was immediately clear that this old Tortoise believes that she knows me. Perhaps she could be a cousin? It's kind of inherent knowledge in me, but I seem to know that our species can have multiple father's in a litter. Our species have a sense of familial relations, so maybe she knew mother? Perhaps an aunt? I don't ever recall meeting this tortoise, but she seems to remember me somehow. Maybe that month I had my eyes closed?

"It...has been quite some time. You look different...young. Yes, far to young. Still a child, yet my elder. Admittedly I thought this meeting would be far different, and perhaps violent in my younger years. Well, nothing to be done of it now. Hello, Orchid, I've waited a lifetime for you to return." I see the weathered edges of her lips turn up slightly, and if the image didnt seem so strange it might have seemed kind. 

"I.." immediately it becomes obvious that my clanky way of speaking had only gotten worse with the addition of a metal-hard beak, but I just sighed and commited myself to talking. Even if I sounded like a toddler...sigh. "I...sorry. I can't...remember."

Sadness washes over the old golem's face, before she finally closes the distance between us and places her head against my neck. My initial instinct is to withdraw, but a flash of one of my earliest memories makes me freeze, and then slowly return the pressure.

---

I sneeze. The Squiglies say I gained a skill. I cheer.

Suddenly, there's a roar in the distance. Unfortunately, I'm nowhere near the 'safety zone' the kids are supposed to go to and I still hadn't realized that my eyes were closed. I didn't scream, that would only draw whatever the pepbbles is out there right to me. Instead, I take off in the direction that I think will take me at least to the edge of the nest.

Instead, I run head-first into a wall and almost immediately black out. Well, you can't get much more black than having your eyes closed, but you get the point. So, there I am, squirming on the floor, unable to stand, and suddenly...I feel this little weight against my face. Then a little high-pitched voice squeaks out in my ear and I feel the pressure push me to my right. Instinctively I take off in that directiononly to have another squeak and bump come from my left about four seconds later.

So on and so forth, through bumps and nudges I get led back to the rest of my family. Luckily so, as I heard absolutley horrible sounds coming from the general direction I had been.

That voice, that joyful little tortoise that had later been so excited to finally tell me she had gotten the "Little Rescuer" title from that day was...

---

"Pretty Shell...is...is that you?"

"Yes, sister, it has been centuries, but I welcome you home."