Rat

Zone

Resources are important. This is not a fair game--and I hate to use the word game because it implies that there are winners and losers, but in reality there are only losers here. We all lose, eventually.

Isn't that what death is? The ultimate loss?

Yes, resources are important. There is a limited supply of both food and shelter. Either of these means the difference between life and death, and one does not give up either without a fight. We protect them to the death.

And so I have a zone. I walk it constantly. I check for intruders. I check for changes. I check for anything that might be a surprise, either now or in the future. It is the most important thing I do. Without checking my zone, food and shelter are at most temporary. At worst, they are gifts for my enemies--and we all have enemies. If you think that you don't, then you just aren't looking hard enough.

Today was a day like any other. The star was bright in the sky; there were a few clouds. A breeze blew through the grass. On the breeze there was a scent. Something foreign.

Something was in my zone.

I could not let this stand. I followed the breeze, retraced the scent. The smell was fresh. It was not long before I found their mark: they had relieved themselves on the grass for all to see. It was so brazen. It was arrogant.

Now I had a path to follow. They would not be allowed to leave.

I hurried down the path the intruder had made. It was just a few scratches in the dirt, a few broken blade of grass. I followed it without any difficulty. I knew every part of my zone and these broken blades of glass were beacons brighter than the midday star.

And there it was: the intruder. He was bigger than me, but not by much. He was older, too. I could see a small scar on his back. Clearly he had been in a fight before. Was this why he was in my zone? Had he lost his own zone? It didn't matter--I would remove him.

But, first, he had to die.

The intruder hadn't noticed me. No, I was wrong--he had turned his head, just slightly. His ears twitched, too. Yes, he had noticed me. What would he do about it?

I acted before he had a chance.

I jumped onto his back and bit down on his neck--hard. The intruder cried out and flattened himself on the ground. I clung on and bit him again. I could taste blood. With a scream, my foe kicked me off him and jumped up. Now he circled me, ready to fight to the death.

But I had the taste of blood in my mouth. I could see nothing else but him. I would kill him. He was wounded; it would be an easy kill.

We rushed each other. I was faster. It wasn't a fair fight, and that was a good thing. I did not want fair. I wanted to destroy him. His blood flew in the air and stained the grass. His cried went unanswered. He died viciously, in a lot of pain.

He would have done the same to me.

I left him there, a corpse to rot in the sun. He would be food for something else. His death would not go to waste.

That was the gift I left to the creatures that shared my zone.