First time drunk

As the colder season spread over the islands, the landscape turned golden brown. Even as trees undress and grasses go to sleep, there is an abundance of crops accessible to all. Luckily so, as this is the time for most to feast and fatten up before the first icy winds sweep over the lands and bring snow and harsher weather.

For Raze that task is the same. As used as he is to eat leftover carrion and scrappy critters, staying fed throughout the winter will pose a challenge if he doesn’t prepare beforehand. Gnawing at bones and eating rats just won’t do the trick in the long run, but as the scrawny little thing that he is compared to his peers, most times he doesn’t have much of a choice. Either suck up to stronger predators, begging for scraps, or tuck his tail and be happy with what he can get himself.

His stomach was always rumbling for meat, crying out for a proper meal once in a while. But as Raze stuck his gray nose into the air, instead of the smell of a dead body left behind, he was hit with an intoxicating, fruity scent that burned his nostrils. The sickly sweetness that wafted through the trees was overwhelming, so much it made his feathers bristle and shake on impact.

Even as he’s taken aback from the scent hitting him straight at the back of his eyes, he couldn’t help but follow his nose. It didn't take long for him to spy the culprit of the strange waft in the air. Large gnarled trees on a clearing, aligned beside each other in artificially straight rows, surrounded by heaps of overripe fruit of various assortment between leaf litter. The farm's last crops have fed the creatures on these fields plenty, but there simply was too much for the animals to eat it all up. The leftover apples, pears, grapes and gourds were left to rot.

It was strange. Approaching the farm arrays didn’t help Raze decide if this was worth it. Insects buzzed in a frenzy around the fermented piles, and a few small critters were already feasting on the bounty before skittering away from the thin theropod. The cryo could even spy other dinosaurs indulging in the rotten spoils in the distance near dilapidated sheds- their movements unsteady and hilariously clumsy as they trotted about.

Raze tilted his head, watching the scene with curiosity. He didn’t dare creep closer, but he was sure he even noticed a raptor or two. Wobbling around, bumping into tree trunks, lying on their backs, kicking their legs in the air as if trying to wrestle an invisible opponent. Were it not for the distant giggling and slurred cheering among the dinosaurs, the lonely cryo would’ve thought they were sick. Perhaps they were.

Then the smell hit him again and his nostrils flared. Maybe he should indulge too? The others don’t seem to be particularly sickened by the sticky treats, except their odd behaviour. They appear to have fun. This might not be the protein he desperately needed, but it’s food all the same.

Skeptical, he plucked up a mushy apple in his toothy mouth. The aroma was dizzying, and before he could think better of it, he tossed the fruit to the back of his throat, swallowing it whole. Even as he ate it swiftly, the sticky juices spread a strange taste on his gums. Sweet and tangy with a strange, fizzy aftertaste. 

“Wow,” he murmured to himself with such uncertainty it sounded nothing but sarcastic. “Not my favourite, but it’s still better than rotten rats.”

Reluctantly he picked at another fruit. And another. And another after that. As bad as these tasted on his carnivore tongue, he couldn’t quite stop himself from picking one after another the moment he started. It was concerningly addicting even as it made his nostrils burn.

Of course, for the lightweight he truly was, the dizzying effects of these forbidden fruits didn’t take long to hit. The world appeared to sway and spin even as he stood still. Observing his surroundings he just couldn’t make the swaying stop even if he dug his claws into the dirt. He tried to steady himself, but his legs seemed to cooperate less the more he ate. Or was it just his mind spinning from the smell?

He let out a chirping laugh, startling himself.

“Okay, okay,” he said aloud, as his mind seemed too busy to hold his thoughts inside. The usual nimble predator struggled to keep upright. “Rrrr-Raze, get it together. You’re in a pickle. This isn’t- quite right. Ah. I need to. Go.”

With his mind clouded, a sort of dread welled up in his chest. What was he going to do? Where was he going to go all while his legs struggled to make a step after another? He’s in danger. His head buzzed with a certain headache as paranoia started to hound him, snapping its bared teeth at his heels.

Raze couldn’t see it with his blurred vision, nor smell anything but the biting, sweet scent of fermented fruit, but he felt it in his bones. He was being hunted! He needs to run! Trying his best to evade invisible enemies with the wobbly legs of his, the only thing on his mind was to leave these wicked farm arrays and hide away.

Before he could make another haphazard step, he tumbled and face planted into the leaf litter strewn about. As fast as panic welled up in him, it subsided immediately on impact. Oh, this was a mess. What did these fruits do to him?

Perhaps he should just take a nap. He can’t rely on his useless limbs nor trust his mind in this state. Closing his eyes, not moving an inch after his fall, he hoped sleep would knock him out fast and merciless. He could already feel a headache spike between his eyes.

Next time, he’ll leave these pungent plants for the herbivores.

(1002 words according to google docs)