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Chapter 27: Hunting For Gain
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Chapter 29: Vaingall Is No Place For Scavenger
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... /p>
It had no name, no memory, no knowledge of anything beyond water and breath.
But when the sun clawed higher each day and the puddle shrank, the fish began to understand what fear was.
It wished.
It wished to breathe air.
And somehow, against every rule etched into its weak bones, the fish flopped its way across the dirt. Its scales hardened. Its gills twisted, burned, and reshaped into lungs.
However, every second outside the water screamed death. E ...
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