The rest of my unnatural, smooth-bored cave is entirely uninteresting. There's nothing else to note inside its dull, grey walls. In many ways, this is fortunate. No critters are hiding within. I'm no closer to getting a source of food or water, though.

No sense sticking around, then. I head out of the cave, stopping only to look for and pick up a nice, sharp rock. I doubt I can really fight with it, but it could be a handy tool.

So. Let's go over what I know. I woke up inside an egg on an alien planet, and I have a very vague memory of a conversation with… well, I don't know what, but it understood English. Maybe I was brought here by aliens? Do I know any aliens? I don't think so. Why would an alien even do this? This is all so messed up. I don’t have time to dwell on it, though. I’m so ADD that I’ll forget to find water if I don’t keep reminding myself to focus on it.

Oh shit, I don't have my medication, do I? That's... bad. Although, would my medication even work now that I'm some sort of bug monster? I'm kind of surprised I haven't spent the entire day hyperventilating in a corner. I feel like that's probably the type of thing I would do even if I had my meds. Maybe the imminent threat of death is helping to keep me on task. I certainly hope so, because as soon as it stops I'm probably going to... well, die I guess.

I'm actually going to die here, aren't I? Oh god. Wait, no, I can't think like that. I have to keep going. With my caves secure, the next sensible step is exploring the hillside. There doesn't seem to be much here either, but frankly that might just be its best feature. From atop the hill I have great sightlines in every direction, making it difficult for anything to sneak up on me once it exits the cover of the trees. I should be able to see anything as soon as it enters... um.

Oh, fuck.

A large animal has the unfortunate timing to exit the treeline right as I think that, plodding along the ground. It reminds me of a giant pillbug, a huge armored oval with hints of legs underneath. It's large enough to come up to my waist, and it looks longer than I am tall. The creature doesn't seem to have a head, but two black bands of what looks sort of like tinted glass cover the front of its armor, one horizontal and one vertical, like an upside-down T. Two tentacle-like feelers prod at the ground in front of it, pulling up tufts of red grass and shoving them underneath the shell.

I hold my breath, body frozen. Thankfully, it either doesn't seem to have seen me or simply doesn't care. I definitely want to keep things that way, since I have no idea what the fuck this is or how dangerous it might be. Although, I don't know how it could possibly not see me, considering that I'm standing up straight on a mostly featureless red hill. I guess for all I know it's nearsighted as hell, or it navigates by sound, or really who knows what.

The important thing is that it doesn't move to engage me, seemingly content to pull up and presumably eat the grass. It slowly makes its way up the hill, munching along. I think I see six legs shuffling underneath its armor, and I don't see any obvious way for it to attack other than maybe tackling. Yet it seems too slow for that. It's covered in massive, bulky armor plates, like some sort of alien turtle. It's probably an herbivore evolved to hunker down and tank hits, being both too large to topple and too tough to smash.

Frankly, it's pretty darn cute. I suppose I'm biased towards things with six or more legs, but this little munchy buddy really does seem to just be plodding around and living his best life.

A thought suddenly comes to me: if it's a weird bug monster, and I'm a weird bug monster, is there a possibility it used to be human as well? I don't know if that's a chance I'm willing to take, but there's an easy enough way to ask. If this thing attacks me… well, I guess I'll run away again.

"Um, hello? Hi! Uh... my name is Evelyn. Do you have a name?"

The huge pillbug briefly turns towards the noise, but soon decides to go back to not giving a single shit and eating grass instead. Dang, instantly rejected.

"Um, okay, I'm going to name you Mr. Mooshi, then!" I declare, as all good bugs need a name. Even terrifying alien bugs.

"Nice to meet you, Evelyn," I respond to myself, adopting a low, plodding voice because I've decided Mr. Mooshi sounds like Eeyore. "Welcome to planet Acidsucks."

I giggle up a bit of a storm, promising myself that this isn't me going crazy. I do this all the time! Lots of people do fake voices and talk to themselves while pretending to be their pets and that's perfectly normal. Besides, I probably went crazy hours ago anyway.

That's an interesting idea, though. A pet. Communication. As a monster bug person, maybe I have monster bug powers. I just want to be more likable. That’s what I asked for from weird dream voice, right? So did I get that? I start to approach, slowly and carefully, my curiosity getting the better of me.

It focuses less on the grass and more on the me as I approach, but it still finds time to grab a clump to munch on as I walk. I’m making a serious effort not to scare this thing, already imagining riding it around. The thought is silly enough to make me giggle. There is absolutely something better or smarter I should be doing right now, but there's a huge bug in front of me and I want to ride it.

If this huge bug is anything like earth bugs, it's going to communicate with pheromones. I wonder: can I do that? Maybe I can make pheromones or detect them now or something. Is that any more ridiculous than anything else that has happened today? I close my eyes and try to take soft, subtle sniffs as my feet take me closer. I think… I smell something. Wariness, perhaps? A touch of confidence? It feels like this creature doesn't know what I am, and it wonders how much it should actually care. It doesn't think I look dangerous. Tall, maybe, but not in a way to worry about.

I finally get close enough to touch it, fully aware that this goes against every bit of protocol when it comes to dealing with wild animals. Warily, the creature stops standing and clunks down on the ground, its shell forming a seal against attacks. Confident I’ve figured this thing out, I go ahead and crawl on its back. As expected, a waiting game ensues.

Hmm… pheromones. Pheromones, pheromones, pheromones.

Even if I can smell how this creature feels, and even if it uses smell to communicate in the first place, being able to produce a scent on command seems impossible, let alone a smell that specifically pertains to this random species I just met. Really thinking about it now, I don't know why I even considered it. Obviously I'm not going to be able to do something like that, the whole idea is dumb.

Right?

…No, that doesn't feel right. For some reason I think I can just… do it.

I sit on the huge pillbug's back, soaking in its scent. I feel for it, its fear, its confusion, its boredom and irritation, all wafting up from its shell. And I think, somehow, I know what a friend smells like.

I exhale, the scent of safety and familiarity on my breath.

Mr. Mooshi gets up. He seems moderately irritated by my extra weight, but not terribly burdened by it. I have a cute buggo friend now!

I start to laugh, and soon, tears start to roll down my face. How stupid am I? To just walk up to a huge alien monster and jump on its back? This is so incredibly dumb, and yet it is, without question, the best thing to happen to me all day. I lean over and give my new friend a big hug, laughing and sobbing on his back as he plods carelessly along, hoovering up grass like some kind of vacuum. I feel a lot better after having a good cry, excepting, of course, the problem of having become somewhat more dehydrated. I really need to do something about that.

The problem, of course, is that I have no idea what direction the water might be in. I suspect my best move is to head towards the mountains: I'm not sure I know how to make a fire so I definitely need running water rather than standing water, and rivers usually originate from mountains, I think? They have to start at high elevation and travel towards low elevation, so it stands to reason. I bet it would be easier to see rivers high up on a mountain than trapped in the forest where I can't see very far, too.

...Of course, that's a long way away, especially for a dehydrated bug girl who has no idea how to survive in the wilderness beyond the absolute basics. Maybe I can make the trip a little easier, though.

"All right, Mr. Mooshi!" I tell him, giving him a friendly pat on the back. "It's time to get rolling and find some water!"

"But Evelyn," I say right after in my most Mooshiest voice, "I just want to sit around and eat this delicious grass! Why should I have to carry you anywhere?"

"Because you're too fat to roll over, Mr. Mooshi!" I say in my normal voice, barely holding back a giggle. "You can't even try to shake me off! I'm afraid we'll just have to be friends forever!"

"Oh no," I respond to myself, "anything but that."

Laughter overtakes me once more, but soon enough I manage to actually focus. I need to figure out the pheromone for "please go to the mountains." Actually, wait! Better idea! Mr. Mooshi probably has to drink too, so maybe he knows where water is! Is there a pheromone for "I'm thirsty?"

The more I think about it, the more I'm fairly sure there should be. I don't really have a great idea on how this all works, but I do think the need for water is something that I can communicate. I wonder if Mr. Mooshi's species raises their young for a while like mammals and a bunch of random other things do. If they did, they'd certainly need some time to keep tabs on their offspring's health, especially given his apparently terrible eyesight. I focus for a moment, trying to find the scent.

At first, my efforts are in vain. Mr. Mooshi definitely reacts, but he keeps trying to spit out chewed clumps of grass and waving them at me with his little feeder- tentacles. Eventually I figure it out, though. With the right scent on my breath, Mr. Mooshi finally stops chewing on plants and heads off towards the mountains at a bit of an angle. It's sort of halfway mountain-ward, halfway sunset-ward. Ugh, you know what? I'm just going to call the direction the sun sets West, the mountains North, the direction the sun rises East, and the direction that isn’t any of those things South. There's basically no chance that's how this planet's magnetic fields work, but until I get a compass that's what I'm doing. I’ve gotta keep every shred of sanity that I can get.

I have a feeling that it's going to be in pretty damn short supply.

As overjoyed as I am to have a ride rather than needing to walk, Mr. Mooshi is a bit… slow. Ridiculously slow. Like twice as slow as me walking while specifically trying to be slow, slow. I guess if I'm not walking then I'm not burning energy, and that is going to be extremely important until I figure out what I can actually eat.

So I do my best to stay productive on the ride as we plod through the forest. If nothing else it gives me plenty of time to check the treetops for acid-spitting beasties, of which I do absolutely spot a few of. I make sure to steer Mr. Mooshi well away from them, signaling scents of danger, and thankfully they don't move to approach when I do. Considering how their acid burned through my exoskeleton like paper and how slow my cute little ride is, I wouldn't be surprised if the Mooshians are the main snack for the acid sloths.

All the more reason to despise them.

A few hours later, I hear the beautiful trickle of running water. Soon after, Mr. Mooshi and I emerged from the trees to see a beautiful, crisp river. A few other Mooshians are lapping up water along the bank, and they pay us little mind as we approach. I am incredibly thirsty, and the sight of water is making me even thirstier.

"Thanks for the ride, Mr. Mooshi!"

"Yeah, yeah," he 'says.' "It's not like I had a choice."

Water! Sweet, beautiful water! I hop off my friend and rush on over, keeping an eye out for anything more dangerous than the Mooshians, but I don't spot much. A few small flying creatures hover around the water's edge. Wait a second, those are bugs! Normal-sized, honest-to-god, probably-not-even-acidic bugs! I am so happy, I can't even.

Before I admire the beautiful alien cuties, however, I've got to drink. The river is moving at a good pace, which should be relatively safe compared to standing water, but frankly I'm too thirsty to consider not going forward anyway. I cup my armored hands as best as I can and sip up some water, bit by bit. It's probably good that I can't do it very quickly, because I'd definitely be drinking too fast and overhydrating otherwise.

Eventually my thirst is slaked and I find myself looking down at the water. It's moving too fast to show my reflection, but with a quick peek around I spot a rock outcropping that's blocking the flow to a manageable level in an alcove downstream. I walk that way, a bit terrified. But I have to know. I don't even realize I'm holding my breath until I look down, see myself, and let it out.

It's my face. Yeah, my skin is gray now, I have chitin around my temples and weird antennae sticking out of my forehead, but the face is just… mine. The one I remember, every freckle and dimple and curve. Out of every part of my body that changed, my face—and only my face—remained exactly the same.

I remember, again, the dream I had before waking up as this weird monster. About how I thought, if I could change anything about myself, have one special advantage, it would be to be more beautiful. Which in retrospect, if that's related? If that's why I have a big, useless chest and curvy hips and all this useless garbage that I would have loved back home instead of super strength or something helpful? I don't know if I can live with myself. You know, assuming I live at all since my stupid, depressed brain couldn't think of anything more useful than "I wish people liked me."

Yet if that's all true, if this new body is a result of my wish, then why the hell is my face the same? I've never liked it! I find myself unable to think of much for a moment, lost in silent contemplation.

That proves to be a huge mistake as something long, thin, and sticky snaps out of the water, wraps around my neck, and yanks me screaming into the river.