This day started off a bit different from the others. The tortoise woke up a bit late and not by its own accord. A strange buzzing noise alerted the tortoise that something wasn't right. Not just that, but also a vibration coming from below.

It was if something was trying to drill through the softer yet still hard undershell of the tortoise. Panicked, the tortoise moved out of fear of another new neighbor stirring up trouble. As soon as its body lifted up slightly, something whizzed out of from underneath, freed from the tortoise's unintentional entrapment.

It tried to see what this thing was, but not only did it fly quickly, it also flew in a strange way. Circling in the air and doing random 180's. The flight pattern was designed to escape the eye and confuse both predator and prey, which were often the same thing to this odd creature that could be found anywhere in the world.

It landed about half a meter ahead of the tortoise and rubbed its front limbs together. A fly. An insect named after the ability to travel the skies. A testament to its skill in flight or just a simple name for a common creature.

The only issue is how it came to be below the tortoise. Flies were well known for finding ways to get in through even the smallest crack while plagued with the inability to backtrack. Nonetheless, finding a way underneath a sleeping tortoise without it noticing 'til now was a bit farfetched.

The fly took flight again, circling the tortoise and occasionally landing on it. The tortoise felt like it could ignore this pest and decided to go about its daily routine. Every time the fly landed on its head or limbs, it shook it off as it felt weird. So, most of the time the fly was either circling around it or crawling around its shell.

Nuisance. That was what the fly was, something that bothered the tortoise constantly. Even when it was just flying, that noise created the feeling of the fly walking all over its body. Its own skin started to feel uncomfortable.

For the first time, the tortoise felt the urge to kill something unrelated to survival. The fly could not harm it as things stood. The ants attacked the tortoise while the scorpion stole its shelter and posed a threat to its life. The fly would deserve it if it was killed by the tortoise, but still...

In the sky, a few vultures circled something ahead before gliding downwards. They found a meal which meant something died. Whether or not it succumbed to the wastes or to another creature was yet to be seen. Judging by the direction being the same way as the oasis, it might actually get a scene.

The tortoise, with its "friend" at hand, trekked through some sharp underbrush. It was hoping that the fly would not follow and for a time the fly landed on leaves and did not bother it. However, they reunited on the other side. It wasn't until it reached the lake that the fly flew off.

The reason for this was a spot completely covered with four or five vultures. A corpse for the fly to accompany for dinner. There was no way of telling what they were eating, and when they left only the bones would be left. They could even be feasting on the other tortoise in the area. Or perhaps the local fox met its end. Most disturbingly, it could be another vulture, expired while the rest of its kind committed cannibalism.

Ignoring this, the tortoise took a sip of water. Within the depths, a curious soul came within eyesight. A thin, black fish. Wait no, a tadpole, developing into what can be assumed to be a toad. Another creature in the water came along and promptly attacked and ate the tadpole. It was also a tadpole, just bigger and with legs. Cannibalism was normal with tadpoles, especially in areas low in other kinds of food. Cannibalism was just one method of survival for them.

Satisfied, the tortoise returned to its burrows for an afternoon rest. At the entrance of its cool one, it did something a bit odd. It pushed some dirt into the hole with its claws. Then, after waiting a few seconds, it cautiously poked its head in before jerking back. False alarm, the hole was completely empty. After yesterday, the tortoise decided to check its burrows before using them lest its neighbors bite, sting or pinch it before it can flee.

Within the hole, the tortoise didn't fall asleep. It just rested while keeping a lookout, ready to jump out at a moment's notice. The tortoise only had itself to blame if it got stung by the scorpion because it decided it liked the other burrow more and decided to move.

Nothing came and this watch only served to make it tired. Yet, the scorpion didn't show up so that counted for something. Perhaps burrows other than the one the scorpion holed up in could be considered safe.

When it left, the tortoise was tempted to check the hole with the scorpion. Was the scorpion still there or did it move on? The opening of this old burrow loomed and felt like a mouth that wished to swallow everything that looked upon it.

All the tortoise had to do was repeat what it did before. Push in some dirt and then peek a little. It was as easy as that. Yet, the task felt like an impossible feat. What if pushing dirt in pissed it off so much it came after the tortoise? What if the tortoise couldn't pull out fast enough?

Cowardice. Fear made the tortoise unreasonable and decide it was better to just make a new hole rather than check. There was no way of knowing the status of the scorpion. For all it knew, the scorpion could be dead in the hole.

The rest of the day went as usual. Food was eaten and the new burrow was developed further until it was a proper shelter. Then, the tortoise holed up in it for the night.