It takes me another hour and a half to reach the mouth of the tunnel, and by the time I do, I'm utterly exhausted. My feet ache, my arms ache, my tail aches; everything just frickin’ aches. Pulling myself up onto the last ledge, I let out a sigh of relief as the full cavern comes into view. And oh, what a pretty view it is.

  Thick stalagmites support a tall, wide cavern completely covered in vibrant underground flora. Large bioluminescent mushrooms with wide caps, soft grasses, shining moss, lichens, and what seems to be an inverted orange and blue fern pulse in rhythm with the glowing veins in the walls, creating a mesmerizing display throughout the cave. Below, a creek runs through the center of the cavern, radiating a bright, sparkling blue light. Based on the sounds I hear further ahead, it likely serves as a tributary to a larger river. Short inverted trees, similar to the fern in their odd shape, pepper the cavern, popping up along the creek and rounding out the space nicely.

  It's perfect. Plenty of hiding spaces and enough prime real estate to make any monster drool. Exactly the kind of place I can hunker down in to heal. That is, if there are no uninvited guests.

  Excited but cautious, I take a moment to map out the cavern with echolocation before I descend further. Just because the area appears to be free of monsters doesn’t guarantee that it is, and from my vantage point on the cliff, I can see several places where a monster could be lurking.[Echolocation has reached Level 3!]

  Oh? Another level already? I guess I had been using it almost constantly on my way here. I'll take it! I can already feel the returning echoes sorting themselves out in my radar more smoothly, but the information they're bringing isn't exactly sunshine and rainbows. There's another monster in here. Not a big one like Junior back in the other cavern, thank the Voice, but similar to me in size. I can't make out exactly what it is, but if these density readings are correct, it's a bulky bastard. And wouldn't you know it, it's hunkered down behind a cluster of mossy stalagmites, practically dead center between me and that sweet, sweet water. What a jerk. Well, it would have been a jerk if I hadn't picked up on it. Still...I don't think I can confront that thing head-on, whatever it is.

  I sit down with a plop and pull my tail into my clawed hands, wincing. Looking it over, the stinger sits at an awkward angle, the base is swollen, and every movement is accompanied by a horrible aching pain. It's not as bad as it was an hour ago, so I think it's healing some, but I don't think I'll be using it for quite some time. This means that one of my three natural weapons is down for the count, possibly my most potent. I sigh and release my tail, letting it curl behind me. Well, what now?

  It's a strange thing, but when I landed here, I was mentally prepared for the harsh reality of needing to kill to survive. The information overload after the "Status incident" made it seem like an inevitable conclusion, so I immediately steeled myself against it. What that says about my inner self is probably best left unexamined for now because, honestly, I've got bigger monsters to fry. The point is, I've always somewhat expected to have to fight to survive. But now, standing on the brink of a confrontation with some unseen creature over basic necessities—shelter, something to drink, and maybe even a meal—down a weapon, and with little to no combat experience, "nervous" feels like an inadequate description. I'm closer to feeling just plain scared.

  But, in the end, I only have two options.

  Option numero uno: Bail. Just tuck my injured tail and run, disappearing into the endless network of smaller tunnels, hoping to stumble upon a spot as good as this one. It could take hours, maybe even days, and there's a real chance I'd find nothing and just end up hopelessly lost in that subterranean maze. Not to mention, I could be caught unawares by a different monster, or a pack of them like the stoats. Not the most appealing choice.

  Option two: Fight. Risk it all in a tooth-to-talon fight against some unknown beast, but if I come out on top, I secure the three things every living creature needs to survive. Yeah, I'll probably get roughed up, I could even die, but the benefits might outweigh the cons.

  In the end, I sit and grumble to myself, already knowing my choice as I stare daggers at the mossy outcropping of stalagmites. Running carries too many unknowns; I have a prime opportunity here and now. And the simple truth is, I want this cavern. It's tranquil, pretty and resource-abundant. Greed alights in my heart as I imagine what I could do with a space like this, but I have to stamp it down before things get too outlandish. A sprawling castle is probably out of the question for now, but a decent den? That feels achievable. But first things first: battle! Well, the actual first thing is to scout out a bit more. Then, battle!

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  Carefully, I make my way down the cliff side, my claws making quiet scrabbling sounds as I go. Before I get into a fight, I'll need more information on my opponent. Size, shape, deadly instruments of murder; I want to know everything it can and can't do down to the letter. Time to engage stealth mode.

  So saying, I drop into a low stance, sticking to the deep shadows and using obstacles to conceal my movements as I make a wide circle around my opponent. Soft pulses of echolocation escape from my mouth as I progress, mapping the area around me in case there’s more than one beastie nearby, while gradually identifying the stalking monster. It’s a bit challenging with all the plants, mushrooms, and rocks in the way, but I eventually manage to create a partial image in my mind. Just as my mental image is complete, the monster comes into view. It's...a beetle?

  Far from the heavily muscled, densely packed monstrosity I expected, this beast is smaller than even I am, though that doesn't make it any less dangerous. Six thick, sturdy legs support a dense, teardrop-shaped body armored in a tough carapace. A jagged, uneven cluster of thick spines rises along its back, perfectly mimicking the surrounding stalagmites to provide a formidable natural camouflage and defense. Strangest of all is its head. Like a crown of thorns, seven stubby horns jut from the creature's forehead, the shiny weapons shimmering ominously in the blue light. Below them, two antennae like braided rope reach out and grab at the surrounding moss and other plant life, dragging it to hidden mouth.

  It's actually kind of cute, now that I'm getting a proper look at it. Is it an herbivore, then? That would be... wait, no. Nope, I can definitely see bones. I watch as the beetle ambles around, delicately grasping at nearby plants with its feelers and looking completely oblivious to the carcass beside it. Almost absentmindedly, one of its antennae dips down to snatch up a bone just before the monster steps on it. It brings the bone to its mouth like any other piece of vegetation, and then, snap-crack-snap, the bone vanishes into its maw.

  ...Well, that's not ominous at all. Still, this might actually be a good thing. If it's preoccupied with munching, I might be able to get the drop on it. Not literally, of course – I have no desire to impale myself on its spines – but in an ambush-y sort of way. The only real issue is, how the heck do I even attack it?

  Given how low and squat the monster is, my only seemingly viable angle of attack would be from directly above, right into those spines. If I tried for the head, I'd have that thorny crown and whipping antennae to contend with. And the back... still with the spines. Man, what am I going to—wait a minute. If the spines are the problem, why don't I just make them go away? If I can somehow manage to flip this thing onto its back, it should be easy pickings. The question is how.

  I rub my chin, still watching my potential victim go about its business. If I try to flank it, it's just going to tilt its body and skewer me way before I even get a chance to try and lift it. So, is the back my only option? It has the fewest spines and generally looks to be the least protected part of its body. It'll probably be a hard spot to grab onto, but... I think I could pull it off. No, I know I can. I haven't tested the full limits of this body yet, but I can tell I'm strong. At least, for my size.

  Yeah, Aria, you've got this. How hard can it be to flip a single bug? You've probably done this hundreds of times back on Earth and just don't remember it. ...I hope.

  Pep talk done, it's time for action. Slowly, carefully, I creep out of my hiding spot behind a fallen log and silently approach my unwitting prey. Step after quiet step, I stalk towards the beetle, occasionally shifting my position to keep myself directly behind it at all times. I'm close now, only a couple yards away.

  Step.

  Step.

  Step—CRACK!

  I freeze. The beetle freezes. The entire cavern seems to freeze. I look down. A twig. Snapped. I look up. A beetle, now airborne. Bollocks.

  I throw myself to the side just as the flying menace dives, enormous wings buzzing menacingly past my ears. My claws scrabble in the dirt as I spin on the spot, doing my best to keep both eyes on my new aerial friend. In a flash, the now much more threatening beetle whips around, charging at me like a bat out of hell. Shit! I duck under the charge, flattening my body as much as possible. A rush of air batters me before I snap back up, making a beeline for the treeline.

  I need to put some obstacles in it's flight path.