[GlacierDragon]

I have yet to find a time where it is more conveinient. I seem to find myself very busy (With what I don't know. I'm just fooling around with stuff trying to think outside the box.). Problematically I'd lack time to update. And I'm sort of bummed that Molluck's Assistant has either left or hasn't got his internet working. But the fan fic will come sooner or later, seeing as I already have the plot and everything. No spoilers at all. Not even a hint.

By the way nice chapter. I look forward to reading more!

Thank you .

I somehow have the feeling that you became better since chapter 21 of Shrown xD , also I haven't expected Zevenk to do this, I want to see what happens next

To be honest, I think you're right about getting better. I think it may be because I'm including more description and less speach, or something. Thanks!

yeah i had got ot at least my sixth chapter but i had saved it onto my memory stick and it got a virus so i lost all my work

Oh, that's annoying. Well, I hope you can get it all sorted out.

Wow, this is some good stuff, keep up the good work!

Thank you!

Ok, so, I finnaly finished the Scrab picture! And I hate it. I would do it again, but I'm too lazy.



Hmmm, a lot of different view points in this next chapter. I've decided to refer to the Scrab as a 'she' rather than an 'it' for now on, seing as her memories have shown her that there are two genders. Also there's a mention of Creetles in there somewhere. A Creetle is just an animal I made up. There's a picture of one on my devientART. Anyway...

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Chapter 23

Creck clutches his arm, hissing in pain. He rocks back and forth on the spot like a caged animal, ignoring me when I ask him if he’s ok.

He’s been in a bad mood for a few hours now. He snaps at me when I try to talk to him, refuses to make conversation, and doesn’t let me help him with his injury. After a while I learnt to just leave him be, but I can’t help but worry.

Zevenk hasn’t returned and the sun is setting. We got as far away from the Mudokon village as possible before we had to stop and find something to eat. Again we bumped into some fruit trees, so we set up camp beside them. Living completely on a diet of fruit isn’t very satisfying, but I suppose it will do.

I’m not sure how far we’ve come from the birthing complex. We haven’t seen any other Sligs, so they’ve either given up looking (I doubt it) or they’re looking in the wrong places. Anyhow, I guess we’ve still got a long way to go until we get back to civilisation.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Blege pushed his way through a particularly thick patch of bushes and trees, cursing when a branch hit his arm and broke the skin.

He was in a foul mood. All he’d thought about since leaving the others was that he wished he’d never met them. The more he thought about it, the more he was convinced that they had permanently ruined his life. Being in prison was bad, obviously, but it was better than what he had in store for him if he was caught now.

Finally he managed to break free of the trees and step out into the open, only to be met by huge grassland that stretched out for as far as he could see in every direction. After a quick examination of the landscape he reluctantly admitted to himself that he didn’t know where he was. He stood there for a while, wondering what to do.

The best plan would be to go back and follow the river. However he didn’t want to run into the others again, so he forgot about that plan. He didn’t want to travel across the grasslands as he didn’t know if he’d find any water or food, and starving to death wasn’t on his agenda. The only thing he could think to do was to go back to the tower and try to slip past unnoticed, then follow the train tracks to wherever they went.

He thought about this for a long time, knowing that one wrong decision would make everything go wrong. He ran over these three choices in his mind, examining the possibilities of each. In the end he decided that the best idea was probably the last one.
And so, pleased with his decision and confident it would work, he headed back into the trees, found the river, then began to walk in the direction of the birthing complex.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The Scrab had been flying non-stop ever since she’d left the underground lab. Though she had a task to do, her troubled mind kept returning to the same thing: her memories. Not for the first time she wished she could speak the language that her master used, so she could ask him what they had meant. She could understand what he said, but she couldn’t seem to get her beak to form the sounds. Is she could, she was sure he would tell her.

No new memories had come to her since the first ones. She had thought about them for a long time, trying to put them into a coherent order. She now knew that she’d not always lived in the lab – she’d had a feeling about this before, but now she was sure she was right. Once her home had been the cold, snowy mountains where she and her pack had hunted various prey and defended their nests from the Creetles. But then the Creetles were killed off by the Sligs, and her pack had to find a new home or risk being killed as well.

She felt as if the memories belonged to someone else, even though she knew otherwise, and she longed to learn more. The thing that puzzled her most was that in her memories she didn’t have her arms or her armour. This didn’t come as a big surprise to her – again, she’d always known she hadn’t always had them – but she couldn’t recall getting them. This troubled her.

When night came she had to land. Her wings were aching and she was tired from being in the air all day. She was also hungry, and her instincts told her to hunt. She landed on a cliff overlooking a winding river that was surrounded by trees, before beginning her search for food.

After a while she found a lone Paramite that had strayed from its nest. At first the creature hissed at her and she hesitated, wary. But then she realised, she was a Scrab. She shouldn’t fear anything, especially not a Paramite. She shot forwards and grabbed it, crushing the life from it in an instant. She began to devour the fresh meat, marvelling at how the wild creatures tasted so much better than the ones back at the lab.

When her hunger was sated she returned to the cliff and settled down to sleep. A soft wind tickled her wing membranes. Something howled to its fellow pack members in the distance. A feeling of content washed over her. This is where she should be; on her own, in the wild, away from everything else.

For the first time she could remember, she felt happy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Vechk stared at the Fuzzle in horror. If what he was seeing was correct, he was in trouble.

The Fuzzle was just one of two dozen he had in his lab. Before he’d created his experiment, he had taken several of them to test his brainwashing method on. It worked perfectly, as the tests he performed afterwards showed that they had no memories of their lives.

But now it looked as if the brainwashing had degraded.

All of the Fuzzles he had used were showing signs of getting their memories back. They were becoming agitated and fearful, like the normal ones, rather than calm, like they were suppose to be.

He preformed some tests on them later in the day to decide if the brainwashing actually had stopped working. The results confirmed his fears.

This means, he realised, that my Scrab experiment will remember what it was before I found it. It’s a wild and deadly predator, after all. And now it has the intelligence of a sentient being. If it turns on me…


He’d really screwed things up.