Blood, ashes, the bones of my pet birds, and the corpses of my children and enemies lay strewn about my invaded home and disrespected lake.

I was too engrossed in the battle with that... whatever it was, to notice as much as I'd have liked to. Some of the windows in my mind that showed me what my children were seeing had gone black, but they did when they slept or closed their eyes too, so it only became obvious what happened when Laina came to me and shook my shoulder to get my attention. Her ministrations hadn't saved anyone; she just wasn't skilled and the makeshift supplies we scrounged up didn't work on their own.

Sting had helped me in battle, but I knew he was wounded. He seemed totally fine except for the joint in his tail just before his stinger was broken nearly off, but I didn't think about how poorly insect blood coagulated. He was dead before the battle against the invader even started; just his hearts still beat. The last of his strength depleted at the same time he was punched in the face, it seemed. I thought he'd get up, but... at least this time when he died, it wasn't as... yes it was exactly as much my fault. I'm an awful pet owner and parent.

Cletus hadn't survived even long enough to return to the forest, even though he was on top of the wagon to conserve his strength. Those horrible spiders that weren't related to me deserved what I did for taking him. He wasn't birthed from me, but he was an interesting guy even if it was only because of his odd biology. If I got to know him more, then maybe...

Sun's gashes along her human torso under her ribs that she got from the spiders had gotten worse, and it now looked infected. I was allergic to penicillin in two of my previous human lives surprisingly enough, but my first life's father had a second wife after my mother that was ridiculously addicted to over-the-counter medication, even to the point that she actually grew her own penicillin in a bowl full of spoiled rotten bread on her balcony. I don't think that's how it was made, and I don't know if she refined it before use, either. What I did know is that she eventually died from such stupidity. If I knew how to make that stuff now though, maybe I could try to help my daughter. But I couldn't make bread. We didn't have any need for it, before now.

Then there was Shore. His injuries weren't as bad as the others, and he got hurt on a spider part, like I had with the scalewolves. I wasn't sure if his blood was clotting or not, but at least the leaf bandages put all over the crack were stuck on, and beginning to dry. That was good, I think.

Lyre's hand being eaten off from before was bad, but at least the stump she had was bandaged in a way that also looked somewhat dry, so hopefully that would be fine. Dulcet wouldn't leave her side for a moment, even before I gave them their names.

Aneis' neck wound, or wound between the neck and upper shoulder, was surprisingly not looking badly, and was instead healing. That monster that used to be a little kid had gotten her good, but luckily she won in the end. When I looked at the monster's corpse, I saw that one of its eyes and associated eyesocket still looked somewhat human, even retaining the look of betrayal and pain that made it into what it became. It might have been the light rain that began shortly after the morning sun began to rise, but it looked like there was a trail of clear wet liquid going from that eye down its face.

We needed the rain, too! Not just to put out what remained of the fire, but to moisten the land again. It was so tramped that the moss blanketing the dirt was eroded away with the "pitter patter" of clod-stomping drunken idiots and their mayhem.

The injuries I got myself were... well I asked Djraine for help because Laina was so busy, but I wanted to get her alone too.

"Your hand doesn't look good. I might be able to stop the bleeding better if you let me take the rest of it off."

She was right. That strange way the woman turned her bones into weapons that bust forth from her flesh that misshaped itself as her muscles became oversized and asymmetrical had done something to my wrist that made the hand nearly come off, but the stump seemed to be healing. Just, it wasn't healing in a way that let me keep it.

I took her advice and let her do what she thought best. She was smart and compassionate when she was still my pet who gave me a 'goodbye' hug as she bled to death after a failed molt, and she was even more loving now. Trust in your doctor is important, but it's even more important that the doctor deserves the praise.

I didn't want to have to think about it, but I was now forced.

What should a drider's funerary behaviors be? Should we be be like lots of extinct human cultures and make funeral pyres? I think the jumi living next door did that, so that would be okay. Should we be like ants, and bury our dead in a way that they produce food? I let the question answer itself, and decide that acting like an ant made sense. I didn't know what kind of strange things might happen if we made a cemetary, such as encouraging scavenging animals or unlife, so instead I'd have to figure out a way (or let one of my reincarnated pets who were now my children) to figure out some kind of memoriam.

The few of my children that were well enough, who hadn't gotten hurt in the fight against either the invaders or spiders helped me bring bodies in so the Yuck could deal with them and we could gain the nourishment we needed in whatever strange way it worked with our biology. As it expanded and began to merge with the remains, something dinged in my head, just as it did during the fight. I figured I might as well look at everything now.

Skill Acquired: Dirt Strike Level Two

Information: Dirt Strike Level Two: Melee and Short-Range attacks with dirty weapons conjure sharpened dirt clods with minor penetration ability.

Skill Acquired: Enfire Level Three

Information: Enfire Level Three: Any weaponry used in combat is coated in fire. Flames are no longer required pieces of equipment.

I couldn't concentrate on happy turns of events with my skills, though. I had to bury my children. They didn't deserve to be in the same place as the enemies that attacked us and monsters we fought and brought back in parts as food, but it wasn't like the society I was building was at a level of self-sufficiency and resourcefulness was more important. Humanity had times like these, which my prehistoric self reminded me of- it wasn't anything to be ashamed of, to have to eat your family because food was scarce and you couldn't afford to feed mouths that didn't contribute to its accruement or were infirm or had already passed away.

Luckily, it was one of my children that came up with an idea that was presented by Djraine. Our fallen family members could be in the foyer, and the food-type food would be downstairs. That made sense to me.

Another ding happened after we finally finished that depressing work. The cave mouth and initial area was what I'd now consider a foyer, and the wide area in the back could be a den. The part that dropped out of that 'where the clay was' doorway I guess would be 'downstairs'. Rooms could be put there, which luckily one of the tunnels leading from it branched into lots of shallow dead-ends, just for that purpose, I suppose. The den became the hospital area for now, or maybe forever? The injured drider were brought back there, so they could all be tended in one place and not be in the way of throughfare, and not have to have what health they had risked in going up and downstairs. Plus, they weren't left outside either.

I looked at the ding.

New Aspects Available

Aspect List Unavailable. Aspect Availability Overload. Trait Configuration required.

I'd never seen that before! I don't know what it meant, but it did say trait configuration. Was that the keyword? Nothing happened as I thought it, so the answer was no. I'd have to figure that out, and probably soon, but for now I just cared about helping my saddened and injured family. Maybe getting some consolation from them in return.