⊗ investigate the mystery spear more. maybe try to get on top of it to become the new leader thats how it works
When you wander back into the camp clearing much later, the spear is still there.
You're pretty surprised, because you would have thought someone would have taken it back inside by now - or, if not that, for the cycle's rain to have blasted it away. It must have been sunk in the ground pretty deep! You feel impressed by the resolve of this spear.
Stretching out your neck, you touch your nose to the side of it - it's hard, and cold, and smells strangely like blood. You know it isn't from real blood though, because spears always smell like that, just like the walls inside and outside the shelter smell like that when you press your nose right to them.
Your mother said this smell was called metal; you're not sure what that is exactly, but you know that some things are made out of it. Everyone else's scents, as well as any other smell that blows in the wind, is usually strong enough to overpower it, but when you were little and confined to the inside of the den, you'd pressed your nose right up to the walls before and sniffed hard.
It hadn't alarmed you then, that they smelled like blood, because you had only ever smelt blood with the food pile. It just made you hungry, and then you had licked the wall. Though you hadn't tasted meat yet then, so you didn't really know what to make of the taste... Even now that you do, you're still pretty sure it didn't taste much like that, though. You much prefer actual food.
Of course, then you'd learnt from scratching yourself that everyone had blood, and it had made you wonder if the walls had been that scent from many things getting very hurt, or maybe from the food pile.
You'd been a little bit worried then, because that would be a lot of blood to spread the scent so fully everywhere. But your mother had reassured you that it was just a natural part of however the shelter was made; that this "metal", whatever it was, always smelled like this. You'd asked her if metal was made of blood, and she'd laughed and said no, because blood could dry a little hard but it couldn't dry that hard. Plus, it would all wash away the second the rain came down!
So you know what metal is, and that while spears and stuff smelling of blood is weird, it's also normal. Huh, now that you think about it, isn't that supposed to be an opposite? Weird, and normal? Well, things can be made of opposites, you guess, so maybe it's like that. It's weird-normal.
You reach out and place your paws around the spear, gripping it between your pads. Experimentally, you shift it back and forth, just to see if it will move any, but you already know it won't - like you could move something the rain couldn't! Satisfied with your investigation, you press your body to it and begin scaling it.
It's really not hard to climb at all; it's a lot shorter than the shelter wall, after all, and you got on top of the shelter easily much younger than this! Standing carefully with your feet on the narrow top of the spear, your tail waggles back and forth behind your small standing spot as you search for your balance, then slows as you settle down.
From this height, the view reminds you once again of the shelter roof. Like you thought before, though, it's a lot lower - where on top of there you could see the whole camp in one sweep of your eyes, on top of the pole you're not so far away. You're taller, of course, way taller than you'd be usually, but you look down at the world like a big grown-up slugcat, not like something larger than life.
You wonder if you'll be as high as this pole, one day? You'd like to be tall, you think.
Surveying the camp from your perch, you take in everything around you. Slugcats you've known all your young life are sprawled out under the grey sky, relaxed and calm, some of them eating, some of them grooming themselves or each other.
Some of the adults are playing some kind of game with pebbles and lines scratched in the sand, and you dimly feel like you recall seeing them play it before. They like playing it in the shelter too, where they use strands of grass and leaves to make the lines, because they can't scratch furrows well enough into the cold floor.
Not everyone is outside, but that's normal too - your siblings are probably sleepy by now, so at least one of your parents would have taken them inside to nap. The Rust and The Amber won't be leaving the nursery too much, though you know they could if they kept the egg in their pouch.
It's still better, The Little had explained to you, to stay safe inside. A lone slugcat with an egg in their pouch can stop the egg from cracking with their body, which is good at stopping hard smacks, but even a slugcat body gets hurt, and an egg can still crack with enough force. In a clowder, why leave the egg for very long at all? Too risky, unless you have someone to warm the egg for you.
Risky, they had also explained, would have been more likely for very young parents to try. But your parents aren't that young. The Rust and The Amber are ancient, too, so it makes sense that they're being careful. Wisdom comes with age, or something, you think? You guess that's part of why The Rust knows stuff like crafting.
You also see The Gull, and you wonder how she's been doing. Watching her, she's trying to talk about something with The Broken. You're not sure how well the conversation is going though, because Broken's ears are tilted backwards, and just a little bit lowered. But then, judging from her expression, she doesn't seem to be sure how well the conversation is going either. The Gull enthusiastically smashes a clenched paw down on the palm of another, with a lot more force than seems necessary. The Broken nods, but she looks like she doesn't really agree about something.
Looking up at the shelter again, it reminds you of an old memory. When you jumped off it, you had tried to backflip, but you hadn't quite been able to get it. You think about how you've watched your parents do it too, a movement of such happiness, such joy, playing with you and running around with you.
You look down at the ground compared to where you are now, and think about it again. You were young then, and you're a lot older now. And you think it might be easier here, too, because this spear is high, but not too high.
Nodding once to yourself, you concentrate, and think about the way your body will need to move to complete it. Determined, you lean backwards and let yourself tip over, until finally...
You flip in the air, one smooth easy motion, and land on the ground below with your paws, still facing the pole you just jumped off.
Somehow, it really was just that simple this time.
You smile, proud.