ORIGIN

It had grown to adulthood.

A full seventeen feet long, and glutted with the weight of itself. What knowledge it had gained from its mother had led it to its father. From Dragon it had learned more of magic, of hunting, of the caves and of the Children--something, apparently, that it was to be a part of.

It was indifferent to this. It accepted it, for now, but it held no real loyalty to the idea.

At the moment, Hunger simply rested: a long, black, oily shape in the maze of roots within the Groves of Cetus. He had eaten, and thus was not a tense, waiting predator, but instead basking in the sense of fullness, of digestion. Even for he, a cave deer was a meal. It left him... placid, in a sense; almost approachable, and though he certainly would never be a conversational type, it was perhaps the best time to encounter him if one wished to speak.

He lay quiet, enmeshed in the moss, reeking of swamp and his rancid black oil coating. He listened to the quiet gurgle of the water, and the haunting cries of the Hallowed Callers above, and he was content.

The vibration of an approach came to it. It listened; something splashing, something moving through the muck... and growing closer.

When it stopped--quite near--Hunger grew curious. Yet nothing further happened, and so it decided to see for itself.

Slowly, before Akos, a part of the mud itself seemed to shift and then rise, a black-dripping jaw spreading wode and turning toward him. From a distance of several yards it would be clear that a bright red eye lay at the back of Hunger's throat, an eye that stared at him from between gaping black jaws.

This creature was--pretty, in a sense; pale white and pure, delicate. Yet there was a red stain at its chest that put Hunger in mind of blood.

The jaw slowly closed, or at least mostly, and Hunger began to speak--a guttural, wet and clumsy sound, not true vocal cords but the vibration of wet throat. "Who... and what... are you? Are you... injured?"

For a moment, the jaws hung open, the red eye staring at Akos. Then the neck retracted, slinking back down into the muck, the throat vibrating to create that hoarse imitation of speech.

The words, as before, were gurgling; it was impossible to discern any emotion from them.

"Are... you... hunting..?" The massive body rose a little more from the muck and slithered forward, turning, the jaws then creaking open to once more peer at Akos with the red eye. "Are... you... hunnngry..."

The strange, white, not-bleeding creature simply stood there unanswering for what seemed like an age.

At last, Hunger gave up. He was hungry. He turned, jaws slowly sliding open, as if about to lunge for Akos. Black goop stretched and dripped between his jaws--and it was probably a rather horrific sight, but in truth Hunger was trying to summon himself up a banana.

Nothing happened.

He gave up again, and turned, sliding off into the swamp, leaving the mute to fend for itself.