2024-07-09 - a herdbeast a day

Tasted Fire knew the concept of eating. It moved its mouth inside its egg, simulating the idea of feeding, quite often. It did this just as much as it twitched its legs, its arms, its neck and tail, to strengthen the muscles it needed to use when it broke shell. It knew this intrinsically, but that knowing was never an issue for it, not until the movements were brought to the forefront.

Gwillanth ate her cow, moved her mouth to crush meat and bone, and Tasted Fire parroted, listening to her relish in the cow’s life, which became hers, and wondered not for the first time what that tasted like. It had so many new experiences recently, but taste wasn’t one of them.

This was another new experience. It had felt this feeling that emanated from Gwillanth before, but never so strongly now, as the animal’s blood coated her throat. Tasted Fire wanted to ask why people Gwillanth would never meet seemed so important to her, wanted to glean information that it couldn’t. It didn’t quite grasp the concept that Gwillanth was upset that she could eat the herdbeast, but it understood there was something important going on.

There was something connecting the herdbeast, the earthquake, and the holds together with an invisible string, but Tasted Fire wasn’t grasping at the correct time. Perhaps Gwillanth was just worried about the people. Surely there was more than enough food to go around. Surely the dragons and their riders had everything under control.

And if they did, then they soon would. Dragons were soldiers, and would always be in control.