Leave the egg and flee.
“I don’t care about some egg! I gotta get out!” you convinced yourself, just as you turned away from the nest and leapt off from the space to start towards the edge of the woods. Your legs buck slightly and struggled to find the correct rhythm with four legs now. The claws scraped down into the Earth beneath, finding it chilled with the oncoming winter weather. Over your shoulder, as your ran, the shouting reached a new height as the villagers descended up into the rocky nest.
“Look at her run! Abandoning the egg!”
“I knew they couldn’t have any caretaking instincts!”
“Monster!”
Then, there came a hard crunch.
You could see it, even without looking. The creamy walls of the egg had been caved inward with a crackle through its surface. Shard fell away as if a glass window pane was punched through. The remnants spilled at the feet of the oncoming crowd. The crowd of spears and pitchforks and anger descended onto the egg. The crunch and squench of their attack filled the field, echoing... echoing...
You reached the woods and melded into the tapestry of brush and dead bark, but the scene as you fled ran on repeat in your head. The crunch. The crunch. The shouting. The crunch.
“You left it to die” you thought to yourself, you couldn’t help but feel something inside of you, an adopted maternal instinct crumbling. A deafening sensation of guilt enraptured your entire form.
“I can’t believe myself...”
Distantly, there’s still shouting and cries of celebration. The hoots and hollers of the villagers echo against the memory of the crunch. Guilt began, that night, to over take your mind, but by the end of the week you’d completely dissolve of any will to survive and stayed merely curled as the snow fell and fell until finally, it muted the sound of the crunch.
Written by Picklesauce69 on 17 December 2015
The end (for now)