Chapter 10

As we dragged the results of our hunt back to our den, I couldn't help but feel that something was watching our steps. Regardless of any feelings or worries, however, our goal was still to return the prey, our future meal, to our personal den. More than food, which it was, the extra meal was a show of status, of our ability to provide for ourselves, and that we were able to claim what we needed and wanted before and beyond the other hatchlings.

Even with all six of us hauling the carcass with our jaws and all our strengths, the going was tough. The mostly uneaten body was heavy, bulky, and unwieldy, and we couldn't lift it all the way off the ground, so it was constantly dragging a furrow in the dirt. Nonetheless, we continued to haul it as we slowly made our way to our den, until a soft voice interrupted our work.

"Well done there, fierce little one." Wisterl's voice echoed from somewhere nearby I couldn't see. "The strong thrive while the weak can only survive. Fight for what you want." I waited for any further words, but after several moments, I got the feeling that we were again alone. Sighing, and with a flick of my tail, we resumed our travel back to our own area.

Before too long, we were able to finally cross the "threshold" into our brood's area, and, with just a couple more steps and heaves of effort, my pack and I were able to drop our food store into the corner I had mostly stuck to since I'd first killed a hatchling. All six of us were panting in effort as we fell to our sides and allowed ourselves to rest. It took me several minutes before I could gather enough energy to stir and settle into a relaxed hunch. The position came naturally in my new body, legs bent and my tail resting comfortably against the ground. The superiority of this position to sitting in a chair as a human was that I only needed to extend my legs, and I would immediately be running. It was like if leaning against a wall was also a runner's crouch, and my ever growing need to be moving, acting, and growing found great satisfaction in my greater capability for instant movement.

As I sat and let myself rest, I could feel the blood and viscera coating my body beginning to dry. It was crusting, and quite disgusting. The human part of me wanted to go wash myself in a river, but the keelish part of me revolted at the thought. It would be cold, and would leach the warmth from my body. While keelish are not fully cold-blooded like some reptiles, they do struggle to regulate their internal temperatures, so I instinctively realized that washing in water would be potentially deadly.

Instead, I looked at a spot of fine dust in the corner of the den, and suddenly understood why it was there, regardless of its obviously foreign origin. I walked over, and, with great dignity, fell over into the pile. Without conscious thought, my scales shifted and writhed, allowing the fine particulates to scrub the gore from every surface of my body. Then, as I continued to move myself and fully indulge in the sandy scrub, I could feel flakes of skin from between and beneath my scales begin to shed. I hadn't realized that I was itchy and uncomfortable, that I was shedding skin and scales that I had already begun to grow out of, but it was as satisfying a feeling as I'd ever experienced. The slowly sloughing skin was left behind, and, with slight reluctance, I rose out of the bath and shook myself clean of the excess dirt.

Seeing my example, the rest of my pack, under the lead of Oncli, began to cleanse themselves of the gore and stink of the hunt. It was… cute, if I was honest, to see these little slaughter loving creatures happily roll around in the dirt. Again, I felt my human sensibilities slip away from me, but I couldn't bring myself to care on this account. I was keelish, and I didn't believe I was going to get a third chance. It would be best for me to embrace what I had become and enjoy what I could. So what if a creature I had previously seen as a repulsive pest was now a group of cute children playing in the bath?

Shaking myself from my own thoughts, I once again checked my [Status]. I'd killed a keelish hatchling and two Toothy Bullfrogs since the last time I'd checked it, after all. My stats… hadn't changed at all. But I had killed several things? How could that be the case? Plus, I could remember the [System] notifications appearing, so I needed to check them again.

Now that I was paying attention to the [System]'s notifications, however, I realized that I hadn't paid attention to the words that it had "said". 

[Skill: Bloodlust has been activated.]

[Evolutionary requirement for Young Keelish Bloodletter: Kill 10 creatures. Progress: 5/10] 

The notifications never mentioned any [Growth achieved] as it had before. I supposed that maybe killing things I had killed before didn't offer me any stat growth? Or maybe it was recency? I wish I could understand, but I simply couldn't, and since all the questions I had asked and did ask were answered with [The Administrative Body has deemed it unnecessary to divulge that information], I couldn't realistically expect myself to figure it out that quickly. 

Outside of the den, I could hear the tromping of dozens of pairs of feet, so with a whistle I called my pack back to me. Nearly immediately, the entire pack perked up, left the bath, and returned to me as they took up defensive positions around our stockpile. 

Just after we all settled and had prepared ourselves, the other packs of keelish began to trickle in. They had taken a surprising amount of time to return, but I couldn't really be bothered to understand what had delayed them. We simply stood in solidarity, guarding our little pantry against any would-be thieves, and before long, the rest of the brood was inside the den.

The other pack hadn't brought back any leftovers, which wasn't surprising considering how many of them there were. Their serving sizes would have been about a quarter of each of the members' of my pack, so there was a good chance some of them were still actively hungry. Too bad. 

Before too long, the members of my pack and I began to get hungry, so we ate until we were full under the envious eyes of our fellow spawnlings. After our previous large meal, we weren't able to eat the second Toothy Bullfrog in its entirety, so, after we all were nearly rolling on the ground with our distended bellies, we tossed the scraps into the center of the den and settled in to a communal cuddle pile to rest.

For the first time since my reincarnation, I was warm, safe, and supported by my fellow spawnlings, and I drifted off to sleep with some semblance of contentment at the end of my third day as a keelish.