Reptilian Cheerleading Squad Activate!


    Hours later, Traebus was jolted awake by the deafening roar of rain, a sound so intense it felt like the sky itself was collapsing. This wasn’t the light, soothing patter of a gentle drizzle—this was a full-fledged assault from above, a torrential downpour hammering the ground with such force that it instantly transformed the dirt into thick, sloshing mud. Sheets of water pounded against his stone overhang, drumming in relentless waves, each impact sending rivulets cascading down the uneven rock.


    The air had turned heavy and damp, the storm’s intensity wrapping around him like a suffocating blanket. He groaned, rolling onto his side, blinking away sleep as a few stray droplets managed to sneak past his shelter and splatter onto his face. "Oh, come on," he muttered, rubbing his eyes. "This is just getting personal now."


    The fire he had carefully rebuilt earlier was nothing but a wet smear of embers, smothered into oblivion by the creeping moisture. He sat up, his muscles protesting the sudden movement, and watched as water pooled around his feet. Fantastic. If this kept up, his so-called fortress might start feeling more like a swamp than a refuge.


    With a groan, he pressed his palms against the ground, summoning what little energy he had recovered during his sleep. It wasn’t much—barely a trickle of mana—but it would have to do. Focusing, he pushed the stone beneath him upward, just enough to create a slight elevation under his overhang. The ground responded sluggishly, shifting with the same stubborn resistance as before, but after a few painstaking moments, the area beneath him lifted an inch, causing the rainwater to run off instead of pooling at his feet.


    By the time he finished, his vision blurred at the edges, a sure sign that he had spent the last of his energy reserves. He sagged back against the wall, breathing heavily. "Alright," he muttered, rubbing his temples. "That was definitely not worth it. But at least I won’t wake up floating away in the middle of the night."


    Then, movement caught his eye—something scrambling up over the rock wall, claws scraping against the slick stone. He barely had time to react before several small, frantic shapes skittered into his shelter, shivering and drenched. It took a moment for his groggy brain to catch up, but as the creatures huddled together, he recognized them instantly. The little dinosaurs from earlier, their usually sleek, patterned scales dulled by the rain, now pressed against each other in a desperate attempt to share warmth.


    One particularly bold one—probably the same one that had stared him down before—gave a miserable chirp, its tail flicking against his leg as it shivered violently. Another wedged itself between two of its companions, blinking up at him as if expecting him to fix their problem.


    Traebus exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Great. First, I build a fortress, now I’m running a halfway house for wet lizards. What’s next? Am I gonna start charging rent?"


    Ignoring his own grumbling, he reached for the fire pit, his hands already moving to fix yet another problem. The rain had put out his flames, leaving behind little more than damp charcoal, but he wasn’t about to spend the night cold and miserable—especially not with a pile of damp dinosaurs staring at him like he was their last hope. Muttering curses under his breath, he grabbed his flint and started striking it against a dry sliver of kindling, shielding the tiny sparks from the wind with his hands. It took longer than he would’ve liked, but after some careful coaxing, the embers caught, flickering to life against the dryest wood he could find.


    The moment the warmth spread, the little dinosaurs hesitated for only a second before inching closer, drawn by the fire’s heat. One even let out a contented trill, curling its tail around its feet as the trembling in its small body finally ceased.


    With a resigned sigh, Traebus reached for what was left of his crocodile meat. He didn’t have much, but it wasn’t like he could ignore the pleading eyes watching his every move. "Alright, but this is a one-time deal," he muttered, tearing off a few pieces and tossing them toward the creatures. They pounced on the offering instantly, chirping and clicking as they tore into the scraps.


    Leaning back against the rock wall, he ran a hand down his face. "Well, looks like I’ve got company for the night. Just don’t expect breakfast tomorrow."


    His stomach gave a low, unsympathetic growl, reminding him that if he didn’t eat something now, he wouldn’t be getting breakfast either. With a reluctant sigh, he reached for the last of his crocodile meat, laying it across a flat rock near the fire. The scent of roasting meat filled the air, causing the small dinosaurs to perk up, their heads tilting as they sniffed eagerly.


    "Yeah, yeah, don’t get any ideas," Traebus muttered, flipping the meat with a stick to keep it from charring too much. The fat sizzled as it dripped into the flames, sending up a thin wisp of smoke. His mouth watered at the thought of an actual meal, no matter how tough and gamey the meat was.


    Once it was cooked through, he tore into it, savoring the simple pleasure of warm food. The lizards watched his every move, their beady eyes locked onto each bite he took. "Don’t even think about it. This one’s mine," he said between mouthfuls, wagging a finger at the boldest of the bunch, who had crept a little too close.


    By the time he finished, exhaustion had fully settled in, weighing down his limbs like lead. He stretched out, feeling the warmth of the fire against his skin, the lizards curled up in little piles near the flames. He gave them one last glance before muttering, "Alright, fine. Maybe breakfast is on me. Just don’t expect silverware."


    The steady patter of rain against the stone overhang mixed with the low crackle of the fire, creating an oddly soothing rhythm. As the warmth of the flames seeped into his aching muscles, Traebus let his eyes drift shut, exhaustion pulling him under. The storm raged on outside, but for the moment, he let the sound lull him to sleep.


    When morning came, Traebus stirred groggily, blinking against the dim light filtering through the overhang. Something felt... off. Heavy. Warm. And oddly comfortable. As awareness returned, he realized he was completely surrounded by a tangle of small, scaled bodies, their warmth pressed against him from every angle. A dozen little warm, but scaly, lizards had nestled against him in the night, their bodies rising and falling in gentle, synchronized breaths.


    He stared at the mass of sleeping reptiles, blinking slowly, his brain struggling to process the situation. "Okay... I did not invite guests. How did this happen? Did I issue an open-door policy in my sleep? Do I give off some kind of warm rock energy?"


    He glanced down at his arms, one completely pinned under a pile of tiny, scaly bodies. One lizard had somehow managed to claim his chest as prime sleeping real estate, while another had curled up on his stomach like an organic heat pack. Two more were draped across his legs, their tails lazily twitching.


    He exhaled through his nose. "So... this is my life now. Adopted by freeloading, prehistoric space-heaters. Fantastic."


    Carefully, he shifted, trying not to disturb the little creatures too much as he wiggled free from their grasp. They grumbled in protest but didn’t wake fully, curling up against the dying embers of the fire instead. Traebus stretched, feeling his stiff joints pop, before glancing back at the tiny pile of lizards.


    "Alright, freeloaders. Time to figure out how to feed all of us, or I’m kicking you out of my fortress."


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    With that thought in mind, Traebus turned his attention to his crude spear, still little more than a sharpened rock strapped to a sturdy branch. He picked it up, turning it over in his hands with a critical eye. "Yeah, this thing needs an upgrade. If I’m going to be hunting, I’d rather not rely on a weapon that looks like it was made by a particularly untalented caveman."


    He gathered what he had—his remaining strips of crocodile hide, the sharper shards of obsidian, and the crude chisel he had fashioned earlier. With careful precision, he reinforced the shaft, replacing the dull stone tip with a razor-edged piece of obsidian, securing it tightly with layered bindings of hide.


    Satisfied with the physical construction, he moved on to the enchantments. He placed his hands over the spear, channeling what little mana he had recovered overnight into the weapon. Using the obsidian’s natural mana conductivity, he carefully etched strengthening runes into the stone and hide bindings, ensuring the weapon could endure repeated impacts without shattering. As he worked, the runes faintly pulsed with residual energy, locking the enhancements into place.


    Next, he traced a second set of glyphs along the obsidian tip itself, this time focusing on a cutting enchantment. The dark stone hummed ever so slightly as the magic settled, making the edge keener, able to slice more effectively through hide and flesh. He gave it an experimental swing, noting the way it seemed to move with a bit more precision, the magic subtly assisting its balance.


    The new tip gleamed in the morning light, wickedly sharp, and now imbued with enough magic to make a real difference in the hunt ahead.


    The small lizards watched him the entire time, their heads tilting in synchrony as he worked. A few chirped softly, inching closer, seemingly fascinated by his process. One particularly bold lizard hopped up onto a nearby rock and trilled at him.


    "What? You want to take notes?" Traebus muttered, tightening the last strip of hide. "I didn’t realize I was hosting a live tutorial on ‘Survival for the Inept.’"


    With his weapon upgraded, he stood and stretched before picking up the spear. "Alright, time to find something edible. And no, you’re not on the menu," he added, pointing a warning finger at the lizards as he stepped toward the jungle.


    As he pushed open the heavy stone door, a rustle of movement behind him made him glance back. The small lizards, still watching him with keen interest, suddenly sprang into action. One by one, they darted forward, slipping out through the gap before he could shut it. They vanished into the undergrowth, their mottled scales blending seamlessly with the jungle shadows.


    Traebus narrowed his eyes. "Oh, so that’s how it is? You eat my food, sleep on top of me, and then just scurry off like we don’t even know each other? Classic dine and dash. I see how it is."


    He sighed, adjusting his grip on the spear. "Alright, you prehistoric freeloaders. Let’s see who finds breakfast first—just don’t come begging when I get something before you lot do."


    With a deep breath, Traebus set off toward the lower portion of the island, where the river curved lazily along the shore. The jungle thinned as he descended, giving way to marshy ground interspersed with patches of firm sand and tangled roots. The air smelled of damp earth and stagnant water, thick with the scent of wet vegetation and distant decay.


    He stepped carefully, keeping his newly improved spear at the ready, scanning the water’s edge for movement. Fish would be ideal—easy to catch and cook—but he wouldn’t say no to a smaller crocodile if he could manage to take one down without getting himself eaten in the process.


    As he moved, he noticed the occasional flicker of movement in the undergrowth. The small lizards had followed him, darting between rocks and fallen logs, watching him with their unblinking, curious eyes. They weren’t close enough to be a nuisance, but they were definitely keeping tabs on him.


    "Oh, so now you’re interested?" Traebus muttered under his breath. "You want to see how the magic fire meat gets made? Well, watch and learn—if I don’t end up as breakfast first."


    As he approached the riverbank, his gaze flicked toward the spot where he had slain the massive white crocodile days before. What had once been a hulking predator was now reduced to little more than shattered, sun-bleached bones, scattered across the mud like the remnants of some ancient beast long forgotten. The scavengers had done their work well—whatever meat had been left was stripped clean, and even the heavier bones had been cracked open, likely by something with jaws strong enough to get at the marrow.


    Traebus exhaled, prodding one of the splintered remains with the tip of his spear. "Well, looks like I wasn’t the only one who found a meal here. Glad to see nature’s recycling program is still going strong."


    He continued along the shoreline, stepping carefully over slick stones and patches of marshy ground, scanning the shallows for any sign of movement. The water lapped lazily at the muddy banks, rippling only when the occasional breeze disturbed the surface. He crouched near a still pool, hoping to spot fish swimming below, but aside from a few flickers of tiny, unimpressive creatures darting between reeds, there was nothing worth spearing.


    Further down, he checked for tracks in the wet soil, searching for signs of anything small enough to take down on his own. No fresh trails, no signs of recent movement. If there were any animals worth hunting, they had either moved inland or were smart enough to stay hidden.


    With a sigh, he straightened and glanced back toward the river. His options were quickly narrowing. Either he would have to venture to the mainland in search of better hunting grounds, or he’d have to get creative and bait something out of the river itself.


    He eyed the dark water warily. "That worked out so well for me last time," he muttered. "But sure, let’s tempt fate again. What could possibly go wrong?"


    With his options dwindling, Traebus decided to go with the riskier choice—baiting something out of the river. He moved a few paces away from the water’s edge and scanned his surroundings for anything he could use. His eyes landed on a large, jagged rock. Perfect. Hefting it up, he tested its weight, then turned back toward the water.


    "Alright, let’s see if the local wildlife is as dumb as I hope," he muttered.


    With a grunt, he hurled the rock into the shallows. It struck with a loud splash, sending ripples across the surface. He gripped his spear tightly, muscles tensed as he scanned the water for any reaction.


    For a few moments, nothing happened. Then, a disturbance near the riverbank caught his eye—a dark shape gliding just beneath the surface. The water rippled unnaturally, something moving with silent precision. He took a slow step back, lowering his stance, readying himself.


    The shape came closer, then—burst—from the water in a spray of mud and droplets. A crocodile, smaller than the monstrous one he had slain before but still dangerous, launched itself onto the shore, its jaws snapping at the air. Its pale eyes locked onto him, tail thrashing as it realized it had been tricked.


    "Gotcha," Traebus muttered.


    The crocodile snarled, its bulky form lunging forward. But Traebus had expected that. He pivoted to the side, slamming his spear down with all his strength. The obsidian tip, sharpened and reinforced by his enchantments, drove deep into the creature’s neck, slicing through thick hide and muscle. The crocodile thrashed violently, sending up a spray of wet earth as it fought against the wound.


    Digging his heels in, Traebus gritted his teeth and forced the spear deeper, twisting it to cut further. The reptile let out a final, guttural hiss before its movements slowed, then stopped altogether.


    Breathing heavily, he straightened, pulling his weapon free with a sharp tug. "Well, that could’ve been worse."


    The small lizards, who had been lurking at a safe distance, chirped excitedly and scurried closer, inspecting the fresh kill with bright, eager eyes.


    Traebus wiped his forehead, eyeing them warily. "Oh no. You are not getting another free meal out of me."


    With a grunt, he bent down and grabbed the crocodile by its hind legs, planting his feet firmly in the mud before heaving it backward. The creature was heavier than he expected, its bulk dragging through the damp earth with resistance. His arms burned almost immediately, but he clenched his jaw and kept moving, determined to get his prize back to camp.


    The small lizards, who had been hovering just out of reach, suddenly sprang into action. One darted ahead, trilling loudly before running in a circle around him. Another scurried up alongside the carcass and, after a moment of hesitation, clamped its tiny jaws onto the croc’s tail. It wasn’t much help, but the effort was almost endearing.


    Then, as if deciding they were officially part of the team, the rest joined in. Two lizards grabbed at the flanks, tugging in awkward, jerky movements, while another climbed onto the croc’s back, as if its sheer presence would somehow make the load lighter.


    Traebus paused, staring at the absurd sight. "Oh. So now you want to help? Where was this energy when I was doing all the work?"


    The lizards ignored him, their tails flicking in concentration as they continued their enthusiastic, if ineffective, assistance. One particularly overzealous lizard scrambled onto the crocodile’s back and began hopping up and down, trilling triumphantly like it had just claimed the kill for itself. Another chirped in what sounded suspiciously like encouragement, as if the combined weight of their tiny bodies was somehow going to make the carcass easier to drag.


    Traebus rolled his eyes and adjusted his grip, sighing. "Oh great, now I have a cheerleading squad. You know, actual help would be appreciated, but sure, celebrate all you want." Resigned to the fact that, for better or worse, he now had hunting partners—however questionable their usefulness might be—he kept hauling his prize toward camp.