Chrysalis

Retirement wasn't exactly what Goszi had in mind. In some ways, he was living a life of luxury beyond the wildest dreams of any Krath. He didn't have to work, he was fed without having to move his foot, his safety was guaranteed, and most of all, he was protected from the greatest danger to any member of the slug tribes: other Krath.

There were downsides, of course. He was confined to a single room and lacked stimulus. The ants had tried to provide things to entertain him, puzzles, games, had offered to bring him items so he could indulge in a hobby, a loom for weaving, wood for whittling, that sort of thing.

He'd solved the puzzles quickly and grown bored. the games were more interesting, but he lacked opponents. Most of the ants were too easy to beat (Solant was too hard), while those with more skill were too busy.

As for hobbies, he was a slug of the tribes, he didn't even know what that was? He could wrangle a blubbeast, could extract edible meat from the pits without being crushed or eaten, could navigate the deepest, slimiest pits of the fifth, could do any of the thousand and one things a tribe needed to do in order to survive. He didn't do any of those things for fun or entertainment! He did them to avoid getting eaten!

Now that he had what he had yearned for over the last few years, Goszi found himself growing increasingly irritated, and he didn't want to admit why, which only made him more irritated.

With a roar, Goszi launched himself from his bed and splatted into the opposite wall, trying to gnaw on the smooth wall as his eyes bulged atop their stalks.

He wanted tea! By the fifth, he wanted some damned tea! And biscuits! He would rend a thousand monsters to bits for a sweet, crunchy treat, would annihilate a dozen Krath young for the ones with little chocolatey bits in them!

"I can't take it anymore!" he frothed, his flesh sizzling with anger.

Never in his life had he tasted something so delicious. In fact, never in his life had he tasted something that could be described as anything like delicious. In the tribes, they ate Biomass which had been digested by the blubbeasts and mosses from the gardens. Goszi had never complained about it, had never heard of a single slug who had, but that was only because none of them had ever eaten something that actually tasted good!

DAMN IT! How had they known? He'd been so careful. The first time he'd eaten a biscuit, his mouth had exploded with flavour. The delightful, crumbly texture, the sweet flavour. He thought he'd covered his reaction well, acting as if he were starving and in need of food. The ants were fooled. At least, he'd thought they were.

he drank

on his tongue. It had washed away the crumbs and poured

it,

red eyes atop their stalks turned toward the window to see the adjoining room was lit, Solant watching him from within. She was reclined on one of the 'ant chairs' that he'd seen before, relaxed, cleaning her antennae, looking as casual as could be. He wasn't fooled. Even with those unreadable eyes, he could read that gaze. Solant was as cold a killer as any he had

teeth and tried to

one of my kind. Perhaps you could…] he grinned savagely, [give me some of your young. I could

always, Solant

so,] she

from beyond Goszi's view. He watched as they set out some furniture within easy reach of the general. A small table, then a little dainty cloth to go over it, along with some decorative

Goszi started,

with tea, AND

placed on a square. Then a plate, heaped with biscuits.

he could smell them.

me?] he sneered, while internally he screamed

ants who had served her before

I care how

biscuit, then nibbled at it. Goszi's flesh started

long until your masters become frustrated with your lack of progress?] Goszi mused, trying desperately to master

Solant replied placidly. [Perhaps