Lizardcraft: The Beginning

Chapter One: Strangers

The cricket dove under a rock. In a scrabble of claws, I was sticking my snout beneath it. I snapped frantically at the small insect, but this activity only drove it farther from my reach. With a frustrated chirp, I drew my head back. I squinted at the space between the ground and the rock. I ran my tongue over my nose. The cricket's sweet scent was strong in my nostrils. I was hungry, and there was no way I was going to settle for scavenging dead beetles today. I will catch this cricket if it kills me! I rammed my shoulder against the rock, pushing with all my might. The tip of my tail quivered with excitement. Clicking in fury, I began to claw at the rock, as if I could dig it out. A heavy breath escaped my lips: there was no way to drive the cricket out. I would have to wait. I dropped to my belly and frowned. I gnawed on a bit of unshed skin stuck to the tip of my foreclaw. This was so tiresome. Hunger clenched at my belly and encouraged me to forget about the cricket and go find something easier to hunt. My eyes roved over the soil and earth, inviting, yet not where I belonged.

I wasn't sure where I belonged. I just knew it wasn't here. The other lizards I'd encountered were small, sleek, and could hide in the treacherous world of the noscales. Me, I stood out. My skin was bright and bore a yellow color, my tail sprinkled with a smattering of spots. My head was topped with a similar pattern. Leopard geckos weren't meant to live here. I was jerked violently from my thoughts when the cricket bolted from under the rock. I sprang on it with my jaws gaping, my claws grasping for it's soft, chewy abdomen. I could almost taste it now. My jaws snapped closed, but I got nothing but air. The cricket was gone. A pink wiggly thing dared to peek out from under the rock. Still feeling the sting of failure, I half-heartedly batted at it with my claw. It retreated, and I walked away with my head close to the ground. A faint skitter on the black stone the noscales constructed made me turn. I saw nothing, but knew I was being watched. With a slow, nervous chirp, I kept walking. Another skitter, this time my pursuer transitioning from blackstone to the grass I was walking through. I turned around to face the creature, but again saw nothing. "Who's there!?" I barked, but I got no response. Calm yourself, Cesar, your mind is just playing tricks, I told myself. I tried to make myself believe it. A vulnerable, juvenile leo like me was bound to get stressed and start imagining things.

I turned back around and continued walking, but kept my head up and alert, my throat pulsing more rapidly than usual. More skittering. I stood still, my mouth just slightly open. "Come out right now!" I chirped, unsure if I was going mad or if I was indeed being followed. I turned in a slow circle, listening carefully. A small blue tailed skink skittered through the grass, only giving me a short, careless glance before diving into a clump of weeds. I sighed. It was nothing to worry about. I casually continued walking, aiming for an overturned box. The sun was just setting, and I needed to sleep. I found a cockroach in the box, which was enough to satisfy my hunger for the night. I laid down and closed my eyes. "Find that gecko! The queen wants him alive!" Someone screamed, worryingly close by. I remained perfectly motionless, save for my rapid breathing. Several silhouettes slinked expertly and silently across the grass, definitely reptiles but none that I'd seen before.  My eyes were wide and my pupils dilated as far as they would, but still the darkness blinded me. My nostrils stung with the acrid scent of the strange lizards, and fear wrapped around my neck like a wire. One of them came dreadfully close, and I saw his scorched scales and wide, round eyes. His pupils were fully constricted, and it was a wonder how he could see. His eyes were amber, but scarlet lines stretched outward from his pupils like cracks in the noscales' blackstone. Something was wrong with him. I could see it in his stiff movements and mindless demeanor. He sniffed. His tongue flicked out of his mouth for a mere moment, but I still saw that it was black.

He crawled over top of the box, thankfully not seeing me. His feet had wide toes and he climbed effortlessly, his feet sticking to the surface of the box. He was a gecko, I could tell, but nothing like me. I'd heard of geckos who could climb, but leos couldn't. His tan skin wrinkled as he bent his tail. His face came back into view as he came down the other side of the box. I turned my head to see. He looked directly at me and my breath stopped, my body still as moss on a stone. He stared. Crests bent elegantly over his eyes, strange and beautiful. His black tongue came from the side of his mouth, lashing across one of his round, moonlike eyes. Does he not see me? He was staring right at me, but it was as if I wasn't there. His jaw loosened. "There is nothing here, Master." He said, his voice cracked and raspy. What? Nothing here? Am I invisible, or am I not the target? The strange gecko slowly left, the other lizards slinking away as well. When they were out of sight, my breath escaped my throat in an explosion of air, my mouth open wide as I gasped and panted. When I recovered, I ran away towards a noscale nest, fearing if the lizards were to return. I ducked underneath the wood steps on the front, and hid there until dawn.

                                                   ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Soft rays of sunlight touched my nose, and I cautiously emerged from the shadows. The coast was clear, except for the oversized beetles that rolled down the blackstone path on odd, spinning feet. I scowled at their acid scent. I licked my nose to rid my nostrils of the smell, but it didn't help. I skittered away through the grass around the noscale nest, hunting for my next meal. I knew I wouldn't catch anything truly tasty. The crickets of the Greenland were scarce here in the Noscale Territories. The only good food here was cockroaches. I constantly looked over my shoulder and listened intently for the strange lizards from the night before. The words of the gecko rang in my ears: There is nothing here, Master. But he'd been looking right at me! And if he hadn't seen me, how could he not find my scent? I thought hard on this several minutes before shaking it off and looking for beetles. All the while feeling like I was being watched, it was very awkward.