Dahj awoke in the same position he had fallen asleep in. He retrieved the tentacle from its pouch to inspect it in the morning light. It looked healthier than ever as it squirmed happily in his hand. Reaching up his arm, tiny leaves sprouted from its sides before falling to Dahj’s wrist. It felt like a companion now; mindlessly joining him on his journey to a new land as they shared new experiences. However, this was no new land to the tentacle. It had played a significant role in creating almost everything around him some time ago. His eyes welled with a deeper appreciation for the tentacle, and made him want to treat it as a privilege – rather than a burden.

Morning dew lightly coated Dahj’s body. Each hair of his sparsely-remaining pelt soaked absorbed droplets of water, utilizing the nourishment to hydrate and revitalize him. The morning sun covered his face, filling him with a sense of optimism regarding the outcome of re-empowering the Designer to reclaim this planet as their own. A planet designed for plant eaters, by plant eaters. Perhaps the Designer would repopulate his native land with a new herd in Dahj’s unique image that he would be free to lead, as a reward for his valiant efforts. A land void of predators or struggles for power.

The mornings were still quite cool at this time of year, but the musty bear pelt Dahj had used as a blanket was beginning to overheat his torso. As he pulled the skin of the slain beast away, he realized the pelt had not fully dried in the sun on the previous day. Sticky blood coated his chest, causing him to gag from the gamey smell of a wild omnivore.

The thought of his group becoming killers crystalized within his mind. Acting out of defense was one thing, and the only resort that had justified his previous brutal interactions with carnivores. But now, he felt that he carried a trophy. Physical proof of a life that he had assisted in taking.

Only the beginning, he realized regretfully. There would probably be many more, if they were to ever end the threat.

The group had one location remaining to sate the tentacle – a cave. To visit the one Brenloru had chosen, they would need to head a little further west before turning north. A slightly different route than they had taken to get here, but perhaps the alternative would offer more unique experiences. This path would miss the Cedar Homestead by a few miles west, but there was no point in returning before the tentacle had finished reabsorbing power of the land anyway.

Excitement to see more of this place of power battled the yearn for safety and amenities of the Homestead. Dahj recalled his farming plots, and hoped that his root crops were still bountiful under the watch of the Homestead’s farmers. What he wouldn’t give to bite into a potato right now… or a red squishy. Making mental lists of crops he planned to grow outdoors distracted from the length of the hike before him.

***

Miles north west of the group, an eagle flew just above the tops of cedar and pine trees densely clustered together. The early morning air was foggy due to the changing temperature during sunrise. Small rodents scurried across the damp forest floors, littered with pine needles and sticks. Even the slightest movement of prey caught the eagle’s eye through the branches whizzing below him. His stomach ached from hunger, but he didn’t have time to stop.

Landmarks he recognized appeared on the ground below. Certain rock formations, a river leading to a calm lake, trees that only grew moss on one side… He was close to his destination. The forest floor rose sharply into the mountain range he was flying directly towards. Dropping below the tree line, he slowed his pace to weave between trees as he ascended the ridgeline. Before him laid a mouth of a cave. Its entrance was slightly blocked from roots and jagged rocks. The eagle glided in, wingspan wide, without hesitation.

Hovering through the dark tunnel, the eagle’s eyes dilated to let in remaining light as he weaved back and forth, avoiding jagged edges that protruded from the cave’s walls. Once he felt unsafe in the air, his talons touched down on the cool, moist rocks to hop the rest of the way to a fork at the tunnel’s end.

Cold water dripped from the ceiling. Droplets landed on the back of the eagle’s neck, causing him to shake his head and ruffle his plume. With barely enough illumination, he approached the fork of the cool, dank tunnel. Light flickered on the wall to his left. Footsteps echoed off the walls to his right. Muted pacing, like paw pads lightly scraping against cold stone.

As the eagle rounded the corner to his right, humidity hit him in the face. Steam almost filled the massive room. A vaulted ceiling reached so high that shadows had shrouded the top, unable to be lit by various torches placed throughout the room. It had no definitive shape. Crafted out of sheer luck by nature, some walls were rounded, others almost flat, but most so jagged that the rubble-filled areas were unusable.

The smell of iron was so strong that he could taste it when the moist air condensed on the eagle’s tongue. The flavor that lingered tasted like the rancid blood of an old kill he had scrounged, making him feel like a desperate scavenger. Pelts were strung up tightly on wooden frames for display. A few that the eagle quickly scanned included wolf, bear, raccoon, possum, and mountain lion. Strings of teeth and claws ascending in size were hung on the walls either for reference or decoration.

A silhouette paced behind a massive table made of stone, monitoring miscellaneous limbs and bones being fused by steam provided from a natural vent within the cave. Steam danced in the light of the flickering torches, obscuring the vision of the cave’s resident. Torchlight reflected off golden yellow eyes that fell on the eagle the moment he entered.

“Adruh. You’ve returned, so soon?” a voice hissed from behind the steam.

“It has been over two months,” the eagle replied. “You lose track of time quite easily, miss.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she purred. “And what did you learn, my champion of the sky?”

“I felt his presence,” Adruh replied, “on a plateau in the land of yellow rocks. He was there but… I didn’t see him. Just a group of four animals.”

“What animals? The species.” The voice was intrigued.

“A racoon, for sure. It was just rummaging for rations. The other three… I have never seen anything like them. One closely resembled a ram. The horns on its head, the powerful legs, narrow face. Another had the rack of an aged moose, wide and plate-like with many points. A long face and a wide nose. The third, a face similar to the moose, with a long beard that hung from his chin to his chest. A wide head with short, curly hair that ran down his shoulders and back. Shorter, stouter horns atop its head,” the bird listed.

“Sounds like a bison – typical for that region. Strange for them to travel together, and in such a unique area… Consider my interest piqued,” she said with a smile that bared sharp, white teeth in the warm illumination of the torches. “So, go on, what was so odd about them?” The golden eyes darted back and forth from the eagle to the project they were monitoring, glinting in the light with every movement.

“Well, they were standing up, miss. Like, erect. Straight up. They had hands, that looked like they used to be hooves, but were hands now. With five fingers,” Adruh stuttered as he shifted slightly, ruffling the feathers on his neck straight outward.

The golden eyes completely lost track of what they were doing to focus on the eagle. They widened a bit. “Upright, you say?” she asked nervously. “He has done it. I am falling behind… If he is able to duplicate this process multiple times… for multiple species… I may no longer have the edge.”

The golden eyes were no longer visible as the silhouette whipped around to rifle through piles of bones, teeth, and claws behind it, abandoning the project at hand.

Adruh approached the table to see what his master was working on. Wings of a bat were crudely fused to some sort of four-legged reptile. Completely lifeless, its lizard-like head laid sideways on the warm rocks from which wisps of steam were rising. Long canines were exposed, unable to be covered by thin lips tightly stretched across the creature’s hairless face. It had two narrow slits for nostrils. Its skin was a pale green, void of blood and warmth. A long, wiry tail trailed from its skinny body. Its eyes and ears were absent; still in development.

“Is this a… new project?” Adruh asked delicately, horrified by the unnatural mash-up of creatures lying before him.

“Sort of,” she snapped as she continued to rifle, desperately searching for an inspirational breakthrough. “Something that I… we, worked on a very long time ago, yet I am now failing to recreate. It could be the final weapon I need to eradicate the herbivores.”

“Maurlynn,” Adruh said sternly, directed at the frantic silhouette rummaging through unorganized piles of body parts and limbs in the back of the room.

Maurlynn paused, turning her golden eyes back on the bird.

“This will be fine. These new… features he has developed. They are not the end for us. If anything, it makes the hunt more fun,” Adruh said with a hiss as his thin, fake grin spread wider. “And it’s always been about the hunt, no?” He clicked his beak.

“He is much further than I expected,” Maurlynn replied in a low tone. “I remember when he developed erect postures and thumbs for apes,” she said, eyes flicking from pelt to pelt displayed against the walls. “Then opposable thumbs for raccoons, possums... I didn’t think much of it then, because I was able to persuade those species quickly. Bison, moose, ram… those could be trickier. They are simply not built to be omnivores anytime soon.”

“I will buy you as much time as you need, Maurlynn,” said Adruh. “We will find ways to… discourage them on their journey.”

The golden eyes bobbed, nodding in approval, then moved back to the table to revisit her ghastly project with haste.