In Search of Sound

     The previous night had passed without trouble; no predator of the land nor sky had dared interrupt the sleeping kirunhound and his adoptive egg. As the sun gradually rose above the horizon to begin a new dawn, the hulking beast stirred. The shadows of the great walls surrounding Tenet could not shield him from the dawn’s rays, forcing his eyes to open and accept the light.

     Slowly, the kirunhound sat up, inhaling deeply to take in the scents of morning. He looked down at the Balikin’s egg, to see it was exactly the same as he had left it the night before. It lay undisturbed, the solid shell taking in the rising heat of the Veldt. Tenet gently scooped up the egg in his arms and placed it into the satchel he had been forcefully gifted the day before, then stood up fully. Tenet figured that overnight should be enough for the egg to take in its surroundings (even if he still wasn’t sure how the egg does such a thing), and set off and away from his family’s arena. He recalled that the next thing on his list was to take the egg to a unique sound within one’s homeland, and he had just the sound in mind. First, there was a long trek ahead of him to reach it: and, breakfast was in order.

. . .

     The journey to Tenet’s next location was uneventful; he had caught a few stray hares on his way to sate his hunger for the morning, continuing onward briskly after consuming each one. He left no tracks of the kills, as to not attract the unwanted attention of scavengers or other predators. When Tenet arrived, it was clear to him that he was at the right place. A fetid smell pierced his nose as he drew near, infesting his nostrils with a stench so foul it could leave anyone feeling violated. It was none other than the stench of decay, the stench of decomposition, the stench of death.

     Rising onto a short plateau, Tenet looked over the edge into the valley below. The Sorantto Veldt was home to many a strange creature, each with their own matching strange noise, but Tenet knew this location well. The den of decay was the perfect place to let the egg take in natural sounds of the environment, as no creature other than the spotted hyena dared nest there. They were a noisy pack, a disjointed group of lowly scavengers who did nothing but yowl and wail their unknowable language. That is what Tenet knew of them, at least. The den of decay stood remarkably tall within his mental map of Azorna for a good reason: it was simply the worst place to rest near. The hyenas’ laughter barreled into the skies day and night, making proper sleep impossible, and they travelled far and wide, making poor defense a fatal mistake. Scavenger or not, the pack bore the sharp teeth and claws of proper carnivores.

     Opening the satchel slung over his shoulder, Tenet allowed the egg to take in the sounds of the Veldt in their purest form. The whines, the wails, the shrieks and wagging tails, the howls of laughter and rage; they all filled the air in a cacophony of organized madness. The noontime heat beating down on the animals below made the smells for Tenet so, so much more potent, and the sounds for the egg so, so much more filled with a brilliant fervor that would not be seen nor heard at the cooler times of the day.

     It was for a very specific reason that Tenet chose such unorthodox sounds. This was the Veldt, in its purest form: chaos, screaming, fighting over scraps. The inferior creatures of the Veldt fought over which old bones to pick clean, and did so in a manner that clogged the air of the others. A taste of this truth would do the egg good, as far as Tenet were aware: to have it listen to humming cicadas or the songs of birds would be too harmonious for such a savage place. If he was going to care for this egg until it hatched, he should teach the creature inside what he knows.

     Still standing on the small plateau, Tenet craned his neck down towards the satchel so his snout met the opening and the egg within. He spoke in a hushed whisper, as to not alert the whooping hyenas below.

     “The wilds can not be tamed, but they can be conquered. The non-speaking creatures are lesser and should be exploited to further your own greatness. Hear them now, remember their screams. Whenever you enter this world in your true form, you are to avoid them until you become strong enough to prove yourself.”

     Raising to his full height once more, Tenet gave one last glance down at the mangy monsters below. They were pitiful, and the mere thought of having to watch, smell, or listen to them any longer sickened him. Tenet gently closed the flap of the satchel and turned around, fleeing the den of decay undetected.

Once again, should show up as comic sans on pc. I am not sorry in the slightest

For Step Two of the Caring for the Eggs prompt

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[In Search of Sound by Sarracenia (Literature)](https://www.arcanezoo.com/gallery/view/85)