An Old Bridge and A Small Duck

Golden rays filtered through the dense trees and warmed F-23’s scales. A kind of warmth the harsh fluorescents could never provide. A warmth that could never reach the darkness that swelled within the very depths of the belly of the lab . The world around them was beautiful, painted in stunning shades of greens and golds which contrasted the cold monotone grays that had filled the slowly decaying lab. The sun threatened to sting their eyes with its beautiful yet harsh rays, so they dwelled beneath the comforting shade of the reaching trees.

As F-23 moved through the thick green foliage their steps were softened by the plush grass and underbush beneath their claws. Providing cover for their usually thundering footsteps. It was a rare form of relief that they had rarely found while hidden deep within the lab, far from this harsh golden sun and the smell of salt in the air. However, none of the natural wonder compared to the wonder that the structure before them created.

There was a long gray structure stretched in an arch across a narrow river, ancient and seemingly made of equally as ancient stone. F-23 cautiously prowled closer, until they were close enough to brush their snout against the rough old stone. It was beautiful. Greenery wove through the cracks in the stone and moss covered the old gray material in damp green softness. As if a blanket of mother nature had finally over taken what had once been hers all along.

Honestly, what would build such an odd thing? The stones were far too even to have naturally formed, but F-23 didn’t know of any creatures that could shape stone. Especially ones so old. They sniffed the stones, but the old gray stones just smelled of greenery and river water. No clues to the origin of this odd structure. They puzzled over the origin of this small yet great bridge as they turned their head to study it, scraping through their memory for answers. Yet none came to mind. Perhaps Ataahua would know? Ataa remembered much more than they did, she remembered the time before the depths. Perhaps F-23 knew the answer and had simply forgotten, much like they had forgotten many other things within the dark belly of the lab…

They huffed and shook the thought away. Perhaps it was simply just an odd structure, natural or unnatural it was certainly very interesting. Maybe in a time before F-23 it had been carefully tended to, only to now be slowly swallowed by the very nature that surrounded it… Something about that thought was sombering, a once beloved structure now abandoned for nature to reclaim. Somber yet beautiful, and F-23 loved it.

F-23 sniffed the moss, inhaling the fresh scent before shifting their gaze to continue investigating. They moved along the ancient structure, daring not to step on the bridge itself in fear that it may collapse beneath their great weight. They followed the bridge down, down the decline and to the side of the river. Perhaps there would be something under the bridge as well!

They were right. There was something under the bridge. Small and yellow, vaguely bird shaped sat beneath the shade of the arch, resting on the shore near the slow moving river. It was a curious thing. Was it edible?

F-23 dipped their head low, causing the back of their head and neck to brush against the bottom of the low resting bridge, and nudged the small thing. It rocked slightly but otherwise didn’t budge, and a sniff yielded no answers of whether it was edible or not. It smelled strange. So with careful jaws they grabbed the small yellow thing in their teeth, jolting with a grunt when a high pitched squeak came from the toy. With a grunt of alarm they dropped the yellow thing and sprung back with a huff. It fell lifelessly to the ground, but how could it have made such a sound?? It was not alive, how could it have squeaked like a bird.

Once more their head dipped low and they pushed their snout against the small object, and this time they felt the soft hiss of air escape as it squeaked.

Oh! It was just the air coming out that made the curious little sound. Excitement made them jolt as they repeated the action, delighted by the sharp squeak that they got from the simple object. Their large claws tapped against the earth as they puffed and snorted warm air at the new toy, shoving their snout forward once more just to hear it squeak at them once more. F-23 huffed in delight as they grabbed the small item in their jaws, throwing it uphill with as much gentleness as they could.
They didn’t want to accidentally throw it too far!!

The small yellow duck landed atop the hill, near one of the dilapidated gray pillars that marked the entrance of the ancient bridge. With a quiet trill F-23 forced themself up the hill and towards the pillar, feeling the rough stone scrape against their battle worn scales as they bent to carefully grab the small rubber item in their jaws once more. With another toss the toy rolled and rolled-

Onto the bridge. A spot of yellow that was nearly swallowed by ancient gray and slowly encroaching swathes of greenery.

It scared them.
They hadn’t been scared in so long.

They hadn’t been scared since the darkness of Zone D had threatened to swallow them whole, so why did the idea of a small toy on an old bridge scare them. Was it the thought that maybe they had lost something they had grown to like? Or perhaps it was the fear that if they dared to go get it the bridge may collapse beneath them in a shower of ancient brick and vines.

They were big brave F-23, a mighty defender. A mighty challenger of the Alpha. They could be brave… Right? It was just a stone bridge. A simple yet old thing. Right?

But what if they didn’t want to be brave? What if they just wanted to play? Something they had never gotten to do within the belly of the lab…

A tentative step onto the old brick, it was rough and hard beneath their padded feet and sharp claws. Surely it would be strong enough to hold their weight… Right?
With slow methodical steps, one foot carefully placed in front of the other due to the narrowness of the bridge, they moved towards the small yellow toy that sat waiting among the old bricks. Just a few more careful steps and the toy would be in their grasp. But, the bridge was old and the fear that it may collapse from their weight was ever present.
Just be fast, they assured themself, they would be okay. Just dart across, grab the toy and run back.

But with adrenaline rushing through their grand heart they could only focus on the rough stone beneath their claws and the sound of rushing water beneath the bridge.
If they failed and this bridge collapsed… How deep would the water be? Would they simply drop and land in shallow water or were rivers deep enough for them to sink?
What would happen since they didn’t know how to swim?

F-23 was so preoccupied by their thoughts that they hadn’t even realized they had reached the duck. Beady black eyes ‘peered’ at them from the sea of vibrant yellow that made of the small toy and very tenderly they lifted it in their jaws. Carefully they turned to head back the way they had come, the bridge looked smaller now. Not nearly as intimidating as it had previously. And in just a few simple strides their claws were safely back on the grass covered earth.

Their head turned, studying the bridge. Somehow despite the seeming age of the bridge, it had held their weight. Despite their doubts and their fears, it had not collapsed beneath their massive claws. Their eyes flicked to the steady pillars which kept the arch strong over the water, perhaps it had something to do with the shape? Or maybe the type of stone was simply that strong, even with the age and weathering.

The toy in their jaw was no longer as exciting, at least not here. For they feared that they may accidentally throw it back onto the bridge.
They doubted the bridge would hold their weight for a second time, and it did… Well. That would be one of the spectacular miracles they had ever seen.

So they kept toy held carefully in their jaws while they continued to study the bridge, far too scared to venture onto once more. They merely circled it from the safety of the grass, taking in all the little cracks and even odd colorful marks which had been carefully tucked along the bridge’s underbelly. Perhaps some creatures had gotten creative with berries and had decided to paint.