ORIGIN

A cacophony of chaos was what followed. Surrounded by a combination of ear-piercing screeches and unsettling buzzes, bug and beast, united in a tangle of numerous limbs, collapsed to the ground in a messy heap. Karambit, courtesy of its attack, reaped the benefits of being on top: the weight of its massive bulk kept the devilbeak pinned well underneath it, nearly helpless to extricate himself from this nightmare turned reality. Useless flailing attempts to free himself only led to gurgling laughter from the monster squishing him into the dirt, it totally blind to his abject horror.

In fact, this clash was treated as nothing more than a casual meeting. Its claws hooked deep into flesh as it leaned in to intimately hover mandibles over the devilbeak's skull. Despite the proximity, it did nothing to regulate its volume; if anything, it increased to a deafening degree. "Heeeey, frrrrieeend!" Karambit chirruped. "Have a favvvvorrrr to azzzzk you. Can you givvvvee vvvvoizzze tube for a while? Otherrrr frrrieeend doezzzn't have voizze and needzzz help."

The devilbeak stilled for a heartbeat, stunned by the assault of sound, but was not remotely calmed by this kind request. Neither did the Lesser understand a lick of Gembound language. Panic continued to rampage throughout his mind, and his struggles were quickly renewed to no significant result.

Karambit, ever the social butterfly (or rather just plain fly), took this exactly the way anyone attuned to its unique perspective would predict it would: such fervent squirming had to indicate exuberant consent. It loosed a gleeful series of clicks before shrieking, "Thank youuuuu," like a child given permission to play at a friend's house. Without hesitation, one set of claws eased off the devilbeak and lashed straight for his vulnerable throat.

This, however, gave him an opportunity. No longer was he pressed so bone-crushingly against the ground. Taking advantage of the tiny amount of relief granted to him, he gathered all his strength and shoved up against his monstrous captor. He screamed defiance. A sudden head thrust, and the deadly claws glanced off his beak. The redirected force of the blow sent them sweeping back toward their inflicter where they tore at the gray meat of its thorax.

Pain bloomed from shredding claws. Hemolymph welled up in the fresh gouges left behind in their wake. Such an attack backfiring should have won the devilbeak a chance to slip free from beneath the foul-smelling flesh pinning him down. And yet, like all normal beings, he'd underestimated the demented mind responsible for his present suffering. Where agony should've disoriented and blurred one's focus, in Karambit's case it sharpened. The sensation was exquisite, intoxicating, and addictive; to inflict it upon the monster was to induce one's own demise.

A chaotic series of shrieks and chirps filled the jungle. Frenzied by the astonishing euphoria injuries wrought, an already eager insect's pressure increased and killed any expectations of a better outcome making itself known. While the devilbeak was welcome to wail as much as he liked, from the neck down, bones creaked and jabbed into compressing organs. He could struggle to the very end, but eventually a loss was inevitable. The question was whether he'd continue this folly, writhing against an unstoppable force, or surrender to fate's will.

"Awwww," it cooed. Unflinching, Karambit jerked its claws loose from the final inch of meat they remained hooked into. "That'zzzz verrry nizzze of you! But can't play rrrrright now. Need to help otherrr frrrriend still!"

It lashed out again. This time, rebellious action accomplished even less than before. A duet of screams became a solo, an accomplishment paradoxically sad and satisfactory to the one at fault for the change. While one friend was silenced, clueless hope sprang forth that the other might regain his sweet, ear-bleeding melody. It'd salvage the required airway and see what reward emerged from its diligence and the power of (questionable) friendship.

Another well-placed hack freed the much coveted windpipe from the rest of the devilbeak’s respiratory system. Dying breath might have extinguished the last sputtering embers of resistance, but even so, flesh retained memory of its owner’s struggle. As claws wrapped around the structure and wrenched it from cooling meat, squelches sounded, surroundings weakly sucking against the intrusion. This postmortem protest did nothing to prevent the loss, helpless against the strength of the triumphing predator. So too was the corpse incapable of stopping the next desecration it was subjected to.

Although undeniably a creature of gargantuan size, towering over the tallest of jungle trees, most of Karambit’s height could be credited to the slender legs beneath its substantial mass. Stick-like, their ability to withstand carrying such weight could scarcely be believed unless accounting for the fact flittering wings likely played a part in lightening the load they bore. Sturdier than one might initially think, most cargo these hook-ended limbs ferried were easily borne aloft to their last destination before being portioned into both meal and grisly art project. Lacerta Lessers, however, proved heftier than the usual catch. Therefore when it finally revisited the clearing where it’d left the older devilbeak to rot away in a most undignified state, the younger had faced even worse treatment than his rival. Mud coated his dark hide, dragged the entire way. A deep trench tracked behind him for all wildlife to notice and hopefully avoid crossing.

"I'mmmm back!" If it expected a joyous response to this announcement, disappointment would be certain. Carcasses were never a particularly receptive or enthusiastic audience, doubly so when their trachea was collapsed. But delusion kept a firm grip on the monster, and it hovered over to the further decayed devilbeak to tenderly deposit his friend beside him. "Look what I brrrought! Juzzt like I prrrrommmizzzed! Help!"

The liberated windpipe it waved in a foremost set of claws and shoved toward a slumped over head whose eyes had long ago glazed over. Its tentacled tail swayed while vibrations rocked its body, behavior akin to a child seeking parental approval or a dog eagerly awaiting a soothing pet for a job well done. The lack of answer caused a dejected slump, but perkiness returned once reminded that silence was the exact reason for its current acquisition.

"Oh, rrrright!" it screeched. "Givvve mmmeee a zzzecond, frrriend! Will make betterrr firrrst. Then we can make prrrreeeetty muzzzic again!"

Now any sensible being can predict the mess that followed. Perhaps not every stomach-turning detail, but the general gist of the outcome. To save the trouble of outlining every failure in the field of surgery Karambit achieved, it’s best to sum the results simply: the first devilbeak remained voiceless, would need a new head since the original was no longer attached, and was on the verge of developing a split personality from an awkward hack separating his upper torso lengthwise. The windpipe was wedged haphazardly into this jagged incision, a poor attempt, but that was to be expected from an amateur who could barely see the patient it operated on due to his heat signature having mostly faded away into the overall temperature of the jungle.

"Frrriend? Try zzzpeaking?" came a concerned prod, verbal and physical, as its tail twisted and embedded mouths nibbled at softening meat to elicit the attention craved. "Put new voizze tube in. Should work well, rrrright?"

It tried a few more times to engage the devilbeak, each equally unsuccessful as the last. Eventually, adrift in uncertainty, a whine rose from many teeth, reaching a piercing siren pitch. Though a familiar conundrum often encountered when dealing with new friends, never had it discovered a true solution for the sudden cold shoulder always cast its way. Cycles of this pattern and the fall of its beloved sibling as well as its most treasured of friends to that endless silence had begun etching desperation into a heart determined to harbor the tiniest shred of hope. Buzzing hushed briefly, and the sigh that gusted through Karambit swayed the nearby vegetation.

"Okaaay. Too tirrred then. I'll let you rrrrezzt, frrriend."

Repetition allowed a dribble of understanding to penetrate the ignorance fogging its mind: once its companion was worn out, rarely did they ever recover. This sleep would last seemingly forever, so it was foolish to remain worrying over the unmoving body. Maybe it could collect a unique souvenir from him to at least remember the fun they'd had together, however short it'd been. Blind to fine details thanks to heat-sensing eyes, tentacles groped in search of anything interesting to tear away for a keepsake, totally unaware that others would refer to this activity using the far from affectionate term of graverobbing.

Nothing of particular note stood out on the body. Roaming claws managed to fumble over to where the head sundered by poor medical practice lay amongst blood-slicked grass. They stumbled upon a hard, horn-like projection spiraling out from between the devilbeak's eyes. Its surface was remarkably glassy compared to the other protrusions felt. Taking this as a sign of something memorable, the claws firmly gripped it and yanked, separating the entire thing from the skin it was fused to.

Next it turned to the corpse of the other devilbeak. Mandibles clacked together, and its head ducked apologetically for all the trouble it'd given him. "Sorrry," it whined. "Thought we could help... You can havve your voizzze tube again. Am done borrrrowing it."

Feeling around for the aforementioned windpipe amongst the absolute wreck it'd left of the elder devilbeak, the important part was recovered. A sickening sound of suction rang out once it was yanked out of the neck wound it'd been crammed into. For a moment, Karambit simply hovered, a leg raised in hesitance while limited vision tried determining the exact spot it needed to return the object to. Then, with a sudden revelatory buzz, the monster speared it back into its proper place.

"How doezzz it feel? Everrrything good as before?" Freshly reacquainted with disappointment, the screech's optimism was tentative at best. That wariness turned out to be wise as it fell victim to yet another round of silent treatment. Being subjected to dozens of these in the past didn't dull the stinging sensation in its abdomen, but closeness to the last instance of such more swiftly guided it past the initial sulking phase. It would honor this delightful friend's memory as well by seeking out a souvenir on his body.

Nothing so interesting as the horn acquired from the other friend made itself known as claws roamed over open wounds and pebbled hide alike. Eventually it settled upon sawing loose the formidable club his tail hosted, quite a curious thing to encounter when one was used to fleshy tentacles instead. Idly Karambit wondered whether its beloved sibling Creo would enjoy the sight of this; such a sturdy appendage could be a fun toy for retrieving, it surmised, durable enough to withstand the gnawing of multiple misshapen jaws. Maybe the item would excite them enough to finally break their long silence and play a game with it.

Karambit grasped the club in claws. Wings fluttered up a storm as the monster lifted farther off the ground. There was no guarantee this would warm their relationship, but it had to at least make the attempt. After all, what else could family do but try to gently reestablish some form of connection to their dear and distanced relatives.