----Prologues can be kind of hard, but this one turned out nice. This takes place the day before chapter one, and is supposed to give you some insight into the setting and his daily life. I haven't slept much, so let me know if I made any colossal mistakes. "> ----

My cave was large, with two exits into the dry, burning world above. One was the tunnel to the surface through which bears and wolves sometimes wandered. They never stayed long though, I had a pile of eyeball sized rocks (authors note : His eyes are the size of a large human fist.) that I kept for the sole purpose of driving them out.

No creature appreciates rocks thrown at it while it sleeps, and once properly enraged, they can often be lured into the water. They were land creatures and easy to ensnare and drown, and quite delicious besides.

The other exit was underwater, amidst the vast lake taking up much of the main cavern, and it exited into a much larger lake in the bright world outside. Between my forays into the external lake at night and my activities inside the cave, there was more than enough to eat and do. I collected clams and mussels at night outside and buried them in the sandbed of my cave to snack on later. I ambushed and ate unsuspecting fish. I collected strange items from the lakebed. I even collected underwater plants and struggled to discover what I could do with them. I did not leave the lake at night, however.

My siblings and I had been countless when we were born. After a week, we were hundreds. By the time I reached maturity, there were seven of us. One by one, they forayed into the outer world, but none ever returned. The first left to explore. The second left to find the first. The third snuck out at night, looking to find the others, but not intending to return, bloating her mantle with water and collecting her things in preparation for a long journey. The fourth died abruptly, and I found him on the lakeshore later, deflated and dead, fouling the water with his body. I buried him in the sand nearby, piled many rocks on him to keep him from washing away, then planted a foul tasting bushy plant over him so that I might still visit him later. The sixth, a female, died of wounds suffered when wolves visited our cave despite my careful tending. That night was the first night I ate wolf.

Needless to say, the outside world terrified me. Not only was I alone because of it, but a great many large and fearful things lived out there. Over the years, I had seen and heard many of them, and I grew more and more convinced that only death awaited me outside.

I stayed inside and tended my little grotto within the larger. With a slim crevice to the air, and a large tunnel underwater for me to haul prey in through, it was the perfect hideaway. A shallow pool covered half the floor where I slept, and the other half was raised from the water,and I had piled it high with my treasures. My sharpened stones for dismantling prey lay in the area where I ate, a pile of bones and shells as tall as I was a testament to my long stay. The skins of my enemies lay piled beside them, 2 bears, 6 wolves, a large reptile, and several of my favorite armored fish. There had been more, but I had only started skinning them recently, after accidently peeling the skin from a rotting lizard, and being pleased with the floppy thing. Once I had figured out how to remove the skin and hair from my land dwelling prey, they became one of my favorite foods. I was still working on what to do with these byproducts, but I would figure it out soon.

Above me, hung from long twine tied around the stalactites, were many different drying lake plants. Some I used to pack and seal my wounds. Others, I rubbed on less appetizing prey to change its flavor. Some I made into a stringy twine. Still others, I was cautiously divining the uses of.

In the back right corner, I kept my treasures from my explorations. I had several pearlescent shells that looked, felt, and tasted exquisite. I had several very shiny rocks, one green and translucent, another the color of a fishes scales, another a beautiful white with rippling bands of color that changed when it was moved. I had a baffling square object a quarter my size that tasted and felt like wood, but was too regular and heavy. I had 20 bottles of clear glass, found on the lake bed, that provided me with great amusement and a place to put my plant based experiments. I had several large spiral shells for carrying water in. I had many strange shiny objects which I regularly pondered, handled, and tasted over in one corner. They were fairly strong and durable but I was reluctant to use them in a project because of how seldom I found one. It would be a shame to destroy one on accident, and perhaps I could yet divine their true purpose.

In the back left corner, far away from the water were my tools. I had a thin sharpened bone for poking holes in things, a pair of rocks for grinding my plants on, a big round rock for hitting things, several sticks for twisting and rolling twine, several cleanly broken rocks for shaping wood and bone, and my latest project.

Using the shells to carry water, and the bottles to store liquids had given me an idea. While I could carry many things in one trip, due to my prodigious number of arms and suckers, on one trip, I found more than I could carry, and I realized I needed a container for other items too. I had taken one of the poorer quality skins, that of a wolf, and poked holes in it to let water through easily. I then took my sharpened bone and several lengths of twine, and fashioned the thing into a crude sack, intending to drag it behind me in the water loaded with clams and other valuables to save trips.

It worked marvelously, and when I returned inside, I collected my bottles and to celebrate, I added another mural to the wall. The wall was covered in pictures I had made with my bottled concoctions, one for each of the triumphs of my life, growing more complex and colorful as they progressed. I took a bottle filled with powdered red rock and my mucus, and painted myself, then painted the bag in green with a bottle of ground plants, and rinsed my arms in the water. I had started the wall sometime after I became alone, feeling that somehow I needed to pass along my deeds to another after I was gone. Now there were over 100 drawings on the walls, some of creatures I had seen, some of creatures I had killed, and some of things I had made. I had a drawing commemorating the discovery of each new color of paint, all 6 of them. I even drew myself a few times when I was feeling vain.

Satisfied with my work, I put away my bottles and picked up a shiny three pronged object from my mysteries, retiring to my small pool to sleep, tasting the metal even as I dreamed of what tomorrow would bring.