I stare at the skewered lizard with my hands on my hips. It hangs limply from the wall by the stone spear impaling it a few meters up.


    “How did it even get up there?” Allison asks.


    “It must have been there when the snail shot it,” I suggest. “What I want to know is why the spear didn’t shatter like the other ones we’ve seen.”


    “I guess the laser gecko softened the impact.”


    That’s inconvenient, since it leaves the thing just out of reach even if I jump for it. The difficulties of being a short girl. It irks me just leaving it up there—in fact, just seeing the monsters in the labyrinth of candles bothers me. I shouldn’t have any attachment to this place, but it somehow feels like my home has been violated.


    “I’m going to try getting it down,” I announce.


    “How?”


    I shrug, grabbing the laser gecko’s tail. “Like this.”


    I heave, hoping that I can count on the brittle stone to snap under the extra weight. It’s tough to get good leverage without hurting my leg, but after a few moments of exertion the spike snaps, sending me tumbling unceremoniously onto my butt.


    “Oof! Ow...” I rub my sore backside while Allison starts giggling. “What’s so funny?”


    “S-sorry,” she squeezes out the words between giggles. “I just—I’m used to you being so cool and collected.”


    “Well, everyone stumbles sometimes,” I grumble, my cheeks heating up a bit from embarrassment. “Anyway, I got it down, didn’t I?”


    Thankfully the thing didn’t land on top of us. The laser gecko’s remains are now in a crumpled heap at the base of the wall. The laser geckos are only about knee high—which still makes them pretty enormous for lizards—and as long from snout to tail as I am tall. A bit too heavy to carry easily, but light enough to move around.


    I drag it over next to the other one and scratch my cheek. It’s a bit gruesome—the impaled lizard is still leaking a steady trickle of blood, while the crushed one looks mostly fine on the outside, but is no doubt a mess internally.


    Allison probably isn’t going to like what comes next.


    “I guess this solves our food problem for the immediate future,” I say, trying to sound as casual about it as possible. I can already feel Allison’s anxiety mounting.


    “What do you mean?” she asks. “You’re not suggesting we try to eat the lizards, are you?”


    “That’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” I confirm. “The snail too, if anything’s left of it. Should be a good source of protein.”


    “Eeewww! No! That’s so disgusting, Vi!”


    I sigh and shake my head. “Would you rather starve to death? This is a cave, Allison—we’re not going to find a salad bar just lying around. What did you think we were going to eat?”


    “I don’t know!” she whines. “Not lizards!”


    “It could be worse. I thought we were going to have to find bats or even resort to eating bugs.”


    “Oh my gosh, Vi, that’s so gross! Also you’re literally talking about eating snails,” she points out. “How is that not bugs?”


    “Escargot is a real thing people eat,” I say defensively.


    “Those are specially cultivated snails for the express purpose of eating, and it’s still gross!” Allison counters. “How are we even going to cook it?”


    I chew on my lip, trying to find the words. Allison picks up on my silence, though.


    “Oh no, don’t you dare!” she threatens. “Don’t you friggin’ dare!”


    “I’m sorry, but even if we could start a fire, there’s nothing to use as fuel,” I explain. “We’re going to have to eat things raw.”


    “Violeeeeet,” Allison whines. “You can’t be serious! What about bacteria, or parasites? We could get sick!”


    “We could,” I agree. “But if we don’t eat anything, then we’re definitely going to die. In a situation as dire as ours, there’s no safe option. We either take our chances on something that might kill us, or we don’t take our chances and die for certain.”


    “I know,” she grumbles. “I just...ugh, it’s so gross. Do you even know how to properly butcher something?”


    “I’m afraid not,” I admit. “I’m going to have to figure it out...”


    I hesitate, standing over the crushed lizard—I honestly don’t know if its internal damage is going to make this easier or harder. All I’ve got is a short-bladed, slightly curved knife, which I’m sure isn’t ideal for this, and some vague ideas about what I need to do.


    I’m supposed to get rid of all the guts first, I think? Am I supposed to drain the blood? Maybe I should have left the laser gecko pinned to the wall...


    “I’m kind of surprised you don’t just magically know how to do this,” Allison comments. “I was starting to think you just knew everything. It’s weird that you’re so much smarter than I am, though, isn’t it?”


    I frown at that, flipping the gecko onto its back as I puzzle over where to begin.


    “I don’t think I’m smarter than you are, Allie,” I reply. “I know different things, and some of that stuff is more useful to our immediate situation, but I know that there are things you can do that I can’t.”


    “You mean like the first aid stuff? Because of my resilience?”


    “No, I’m not talking about attributes or classes,” I clarify. “Just things you know, skills you have that I don’t—skills, not [Skills].”


    “I don’t think I have any,” she chuckles. “Unless you count talking to people.”


    I have to think about that, which unfortunately gives me little to distract myself from the task at hand. I stall by trying to work out where to start my first cut and how to hold the knife to avoid cutting myself.


    “I think I do count that,” I say eventually. “Talking to people is hard, and a very broad skill set. Even just talking to you, I have a hard time articulating myself. I don’t know how I’d even begin to approach a stranger.”


    “What? That’s silly, you just go up and say hi!”


    I shudder at the thought. “Yeah, I think you’re really underselling yourself.”


    No more stalling. I steel my resolve and plunge the blade into the lizard, starting near the throat and cutting my way down along its belly. I use one hand to keep the skin—not scales, it turns out—taut, while carefully cutting away from myself.


    Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.


    The sharp blade passes easily through the laser gecko’s flesh, but as it passes over the creature’s stomach, I’m assaulted by a rancid, acrid smell that forces me to recoil.


    “Urk—!”


    It’s foul! The smell lingers in my nostrils even as I hastily retreat from the corpse, and I gag so hard I actually throw up.


    “Oh my gosh, are you okay?!” Allison asks urgently. “That was super nasty.”


    “M’fine,” I mutter, wiping my mouth with a sleeve. “I’m surprised you’re so calm about it, though.”


    “Oh, that was super gross,” she confirms. “But I guess not being in front makes it feel a bit more distant somehow.”


    “Lucky you...” I deadpan.


    Looking back at the lizard, its guts have spilled out into a mess of viscera, leaking disgusting brown bile and a growing puddle of blood. Even from meters away, it smells like actual feces.


    “I don’t think we’re eating that one,” I comment. “Maybe I messed up gutting it, or maybe its organs ruptured when it got smashed, but either way it’s contaminated.”


    “Oh thank goodness,” Allie sighs in relief. “I was worried you were gonna press on.”


    I grimace. “Even I’m not willing to go that far.”


    I have to drag the second laser gecko corpse as far away from the first as I can before starting over. I have no idea what I’m going to do about the first one now, but I’ve got to focus on one thing at a time.


    I try again, this time starting from the other end and being extra cautious to keep the cut as shallow as I possibly can. It’s slow and nauseating work, but eventually, I manage to pull out most of the guts—being extremely careful not to accidentally cut or tear any.


    I’m up to the elbows in blood and guts, and—yeah, I was definitely supposed to drain it, wasn’t I? I’m pretty much soaked.


    “I hope I can wash some of this off in the stream...”


    “Ugh, yeah,” Allison agrees. “Although I wonder if Mr. Gecko is going to appreciate us waltzing into his cave head to toe in his friend’s blood.”


    “That...is a good point, hmm...”


    I look down at my blood-soaked hands. The knife is slick with blood and at this point it would be way too dangerous to continue trying to cut up the lizard. I can’t leave it like that, either, or it might rust.


    “I think we’re going to have to risk it,” I decide. “We can’t really carry on like this.”


    “Just be careful,” Allison says.


    “Always,” I smile.


    Before leaving I drag the carcass over to the hollowed out snail shell and drape the lizard over it. Hopefully that will help drain whatever’s left of the blood before I come back to finish butchering it.


    Out of curiosity, I peer into the shell’s opening. Unlike the rugged exterior, the inside of the snail’s shell is smooth, aside from the blue-stained bits of gray flesh clinging to the edges. The laser gecko was a messy eater, and left quite a lot behind, especially towards the back, where a sizable portion of the rock snail’s foot remains untouched.


    “Violet...what are you doing?” Allison asks nervously, as I reach in with the knife.


    “I’m just going to carve a bit off,” I say.


    The snail’s flesh is soft and squishy, but also lean and dense. It’s difficult to get purchase with the knife, especially with my hands as slippery as they currently are, but once the cut starts, the knife glides through the snail like butter.


    For my trouble, I’m awarded with a roughly palm-sized cut of dense gray snail meat, partially covered in a mixture of red and blue blood.


    I squeeze it between my fingers, getting a feel for the texture. It’s oddly squishy, but springs back like rubber. Honestly, it’s perhaps the least appetizing thing I’ve ever considered eating, but I am literally starving.


    “Violet, please tell me you’re not going to eat that,” Allison whispers.


    I shake my head. “No.”


    Not without washing it off first, anyway.


    * * *


    We hurry back to the stream. It’s a bit quicker with the signs in place, but it’s still a pretty long walk, and I have to watch out for any signs of monsters, but nothing gets in our way. When we arrive, I am much more thorough about scanning the room—including the walls and ceiling—for any hiding laser geckos, or strange boulders that weren’t there before.


    Nothing. Not even our old friend is present, apparently having abandoned his perch at some point. I don’t waste any time. As bone-chillingly cold as the water is, it feels nice to wash all the blood off of my hands. Unfortunately the cloak is still pretty thoroughly bloodstained, as are the cuffs of our jeans and our footwraps.


    I contemplate trying to wash them as well, but then we’d be stuck waiting for them to dry, and I want to get back before anything else comes along to steal our rightfully scavenged haul.


    But before I do, there’s one last thing...I take the bit of snail meat out of the cloak pocket where I left it.


    “Oh no,” Allison says, immediately catching on. “Vi, you said you wouldn’t.”


    “It’s a valuable source of food, Allie, we can’t waste it.”


    “That’s disgusting—it was already chewed on by laser geckos!”


    I shrug. “Before that, it was coated in snail mucus. We can’t be picky.”


    I wash the snail meat off in the stream, and regard it with trepidation.


    “Violet, please, I’m begging you.”


    “Sorry Allison,” I say with a grimace before biting down.


    It’s...bad. Really bad. It takes monumental willpower not to gag as I chew on the tough, rubbery snail flesh. It’s slimy and juicy in the worst possible ways, and it tastes like dirt. Worse, it’s so rubbery that I have to chew it very thoroughly before I can swallow—forcing me to experience the awful taste that much longer.


    [Level up!]


    Unified Collective is now level 6.


    Survivalist is now level 7.


    +1 Ego.


    +2 Awareness.


    I’m not sure if it was worth it. Another two levels in Survivalist—I guess finding food is similarly impactful to finding water. I’m surprised that Unified Collective leveled, since I went directly against Allison’s wishes. That one’s really hard to figure out.


    “Violet, you are crazy,” Allison says incredulously. “I am so glad I didn’t have to experience that directly.”


    “I wish I could say the same,” I complain, gulping down water to wash out the taste. “That was vile.”


    “I told you...”


    “I’m not sure whether it’s a good idea to trust the mechanism like this, but I did level twice from that,” I say. “So maybe that means it’s safe to eat? Albeit gross.”


    “You’re going to eat more?”


    “...maybe let’s save it for emergency rations,” I concede.


    * * *


    The way back is equally uneventful, and I don’t spot any new invaders—though the smell of lizard guts has permeated the entrance to the labyrinth. I’m not sure if that’s liable to repel or attract things—but I’m guessing the latter.


    I retrieve the carcass from where I left it and drag it as far away from the smell as I can before I set about finishing the butchering process.


    It’s...not exactly clean. Separating the meat from the bones is tedious, sweaty work, and despite my best efforts at drying out the laser gecko’s carcass, I end up making a fresh mess of my newly washed hands.


    I sigh helplessly at that—I’ll try to keep them as clean as I can, but I get the feeling I’m going to have to just get used to a certain level of baseline griminess for the foreseeable future.


    I toil away in silence for what is probably hours. Allison must have gone dormant at some point, because she’s not chattering in my ear anymore. I don’t begrudge her that, but she can be a bit much sometimes. The silence is a nice temporary reprieve, and I’m able to lose myself in my work for a bit.


    Once finally finished, I’m left with a decent quantity of lizard meat. A lot got wasted by my amateurish butchering, and I’m pretty sure my knife has completely lost its edge, but the task is done, and I feel proud of myself.


    I stuff as much of the meat as I can manage into the cloak pockets—unfortunately the only way I can carry it around, since there’s nowhere I can stash it that would be safe from scavengers. I’m not looking forward to when this stuff starts going rancid...


    Once that’s done I take one of the leftover slices and turn it over in my hands. It looks and feels a lot like raw chicken, though all I can smell right now is fresh blood. My stomach growls in spite of my recent snack and the off-putting smells. I’m really hungry.


    Allison’s dormant right now. This is as good a time as any to try it. I squint my eyes shut and take a bite.


    It’s not as chewy as the snail, and unlike the snail it actually tastes the way I’d expect meat to taste—if that meat were raw chicken. It’s got a slightly fishy quality to it, so I try closing my eyes and pretending it’s salmon sashimi. Nope. Still gross.


    [Level up!]


    Survivalist is now level 8.


    +1 Awareness.


    At least that part is tasty...