Hello to my dear readers,
It's been a long time...again...hehe. I hope this update finds you all well, and I apologize for my absence again. We've had this all happen before...and I appreciate how much patience you guys have chosen to give me regarding the slow updates.
Life is...still a struggle. It's complicated and messy, and I have a lot of things I'm going through right now that I would prefer not to be...and my writing is taking a hit for it. Sometimes it's just been too stressful or busy to sit down at the keyboard again.
But whenever the love for writing returns, I promise I am sitting at that keyboard trying to pour all of it into this story here. I'm so thankful for the patience and support.
This update here, is more of a thank you addition than anything. It's not a full sized chapter...no...but a bit of a backstory for one of the more important characters of this story, to hold you guys over until I finish one of the full sized chapters. 3 This will be part 1 of 3 of these little mini snippets.
I know it is not much...but I'm hoping you guys will enjoy what I'm bringing to the table in the near future.
Love you all, and I hope this year has many blessings for you!
"Jurassic World: Why So Blue?"
Mini Chapter 35
"Makings of Greatness"
He was born in the fury of a late wet-season storm; him and his three brothers. Their clutch was laid earlier than most, when the rains were still common and conditions not all that in favor of vulnerable eggs and hatchlings.
If the timing was only better….maybe things wouldn't have ended the way they did. Maybe troubled little raptors wouldn't have grown up to be monstrous tyrants.
Muerte was convinced that his lifetime was the twisted makings of greatness, despite the most humble of beginnings.
As the runt of the litter, and being born in such harsh weather conditions, the raptor entered life blighted with illness and stunted development. Before his eyes were even opened, his tiny body coughed and shivered in the nest as his mother tried her best to care for him.
More critical raptor parents would've seen the weakness and deemed him a lost cause. A simple nudge out of the nest and into the elements would have put him out of his misery.
Lucky for Muerte, he had loyal and caring parents who believed him to be worth something. Ironic.
But he believed it to be unfair, such feelings starting from a very young age. He was fully aware of the pitiful state he was in. Mother was always coddling him, scores more than his brothers. When they grew old and strong enough to toddle from the nest to play, she would growl and pull him back against her side, where it was safe. She wouldn't tolerate them being rough with him for fear of damaging his frail body.
Meanwhile she would watch the three strong brothers with pride…..encouraging it….letting them test themselves and prove their mettle.
It embarrassed him to be looked on as the weak one….the runt…...the fragile one. He HATED it. If only he was stronger, he could be like his brothers and prove his mettle. He could do as he pleased, instead of Mother hovering over him, or Father always worrying.
He wanted to explore. He wanted to go play with his brothers and be looked on with pride just as they were, but Mother and Father wouldn't let him be. Only under their care and supervision. Only if they were two steps behind him, coddling their tiny little baby, like one wrong step could break him.
They were the alpha pair of the pack, to make it all worse. What a shame that they had a runt born to them.
Weeks went by….then months. Muerte had grown but he was still leagues behind his brothers, nearly half their size. His young confusion and frustrations turned to more passionate resentment.
Lethal by eight months, the strong brothers were being taught how to hunt and take down prey to provide for the pack. Father tagged along beside them chittering proud praise, flaunting them to the other raptors of the hierarchy, confident in their ability to carry on his genes for many generations to come.
Muerte was forbidden to leave the nesting grounds, and was safeguarded by his mother and the other females. He was taught to tend the nests and the newborns of the pack, because it was safe work. It was gentle for him.
As gentle as dozens of sharp baby teeth nipping at his body in play could be.
But it all made him feel indignant. He didn't feel like a capable male in charge of hunting and providing…he was made to feel like nothing more than an honorary female. Not even that…..he didn't suspect he would even be allowed to reproduce and carry on the family lineage like a female could.
He was lower than a female…..and that made him furious. With every order….every quip he got from one of the nest mothers, Muerte became more convinced that he didn't deserve treatment from such creatures. He became convinced that he should've been their superior, and that the existence of a female really was good for nothing more than a warm place for a male to enjoy and then sire his offspring.
His brothers and father had the life he could only wish for. If only he was bigger and stronger, he would prove himself to them…..how much of an alpha raptor he could be. Then the others would have to do as he said. He would make all the rules.
He didn't want to be the weak omega. He wanted to be the best alpha any of them had seen.
THEY would be the weak ones.
