Grub stood at the edge of the settlement far longer than he meant to.
From the trees, everything had always felt distant. It all felt manageable and controlled. He had spent weeks watching from safety, building patterns in his mind, convincing himself that he understood enough to take the next step. But standing there now, just beyond the boundary where observation ended and presence began, all of that confidence felt thinner and seemingly ready to crumble away. The camp was no longer a quiet thing in the distance. It was alive and breathing. Moving in ways that were impossible to predict from afar.
His heart was beating too fast. He could feel it through his ribs, through his throat, through the tips of his fingers where they twitched slightly beneath the layered disguise. The borrowed skin clung to him in a way that still felt unnatural, the cloak heavy across his shoulders as if reminding him of every flaw hidden beneath it.
This had to work. There wasn't another option. If it failed, there would be no second attempt. No retreat. No slow rebuilding. It would end here, in a place where he did not belong, surrounded by people who would have every reason to treat him as an enemy.
Grub closed his eyes for a moment and forced himself to breathe. He needed to calm himself and be confident.
He adjusted the hood of his cloak, pulling it lower so the shadows swallowed more of his face. Then, without allowing himself another second to hesitate, he stepped forward.
The first step felt heavy like he was stepping into quick sand. The second came easier. By the third, he was forcing himself into motion, mimicking what he had seen countless times before. The steady, deliberate walk of someone who belonged. He had to pretend to have just enough purpose to avoid drawing immediate attention.
When he crossed into the settlement, the world changed. It hit him all at once. The noise. The movement. The density of life.
Voices overlapped each other making it difficult to focus on any single one. Metal clanged somewhere nearby. He heard a loud booming laugh from the distance. Someone else shouted across the clearing. The smell of smoke, cooked food, leather, and something distinctly unfamiliar filled the air, thick enough that it almost felt like something he could taste.
It was overwhelming. And for the first time— He wasn't watching it. He was inside it.
Grub forced himself not to react. He had to make sure not to turn his head too sharply as his instincts screamed at him to take everything in at once. Instead, he kept moving, his eyes partially hidden beneath the hood, his posture controlled.
Then a figure stepped into his path and stood directly in front of him.
Grub stopped. The lizard soldier stood close enough now that Grub could see the fine details of its face—the texture of its scales, the slight narrowing of its eyes, the way its jaw shifted subtly as it studied him. Up close, the differences were sharper.The lizard looked more like a survivor than he had expected.
The soldier spoke, his words fast and sharp.
The words came in a quick burst that Grub struggled to fully catch, but fragments stuck.
"…role…?…from where…?"
"…station…?"
He was being pestered with questions. The lizard stared at him with a quizzical look on its face.
Grub felt panic spike in his chest, but he forced it down immediately. This was the moment. The first test. If he failed here, nothing else mattered. Slowly and deliberately, he raised his hand and pointed toward his mouth. He opened it slightly, forcing his expression into something strained and frustrated—like someone choking on an invisible object.
Nothing came out. He let his shoulders drop just enough to sell it. The soldier's head tilted in utter confusion.
It spoke again, slower this time, the tone shifting slightly.
"…you… speak?"
Grub shook his head in an instant, showing no hesitation. The soldier stared at him, clearly trying to process what it was seeing. Its eyes moved over him again, taking in the cloak, the covered features, and the lack of response.
Then it let out a short breath—somewhere between annoyance and acceptance—and gestured sharply for him to follow.
Grub did as he was told. He already knew where they were going. As they moved through the camp, weaving between groups of soldiers and scattered equipment, the path became familiar. The layout he had studied from afar now surrounded him completely. Every landmark he had memorized appeared exactly where he expected it to be.
And then he was at Lelan's tent.
Of course.
Grub's chest tightened slightly as they approached, but his steps did not falter. He kept his pace steady, his posture controlled and his head slightly lowered beneath the hood. Inside, the space was quieter.
Lelan sat at a small desk. Her posture was straight and her focus was entirely on the paper in front of her. The moment Grub stepped in, his eyes were drawn to it—the markings, the symbols, the structured lines of a written language he still could not understand. He recognized the shapes. He could tell the ideas and could see the patterns in it.
But meaning?
He understood nothing of it. It might as well have been scratches in the dirt.
Lelan looked up from her desk. Her eyes landed on him.
And immediately something shifted. Confusion flickered across her face. She was immediately intrigued. She turned and said something to the soldier behind him, her tone questioning and slightly edged.
Grub didn't catch the words. But he didn't need to, he could tell by the way she looked at the soldier rather than at him. She was asking, what is this?
The soldier responded quickly, speaking in a more explanatory tone. This time Grub caught fragments, pieces slipping through the gaps in his understanding.
"…found… outside…"
"…doesn't speak...not recognized…"
Lelan's gaze returned to him. Her eyes seemed sharper and more focused.
Was she suspicious of him? Grub began to look away as her eyes drilled holes into him. She spoke directly to him.
Her tone softened slightly, but the intent remained clear.
"…stationed here?"
Grub repeated the gesture and raised his hand to hi mouth. He opened wide and no words came out. He even added the detail of strained squeaks escaping his lips. He forced the same strained expression.
Lelan watched him carefully, her confusion deepening rather than fading. She asked again, slower this time, each word more deliberate.
"…you… speak?"
Grub shook his head once again, giving her strong but silent no. The soldier stepped forward, adding more explanation. Grub focused hard, catching pieces and trying to assemble what he could.
"…arrived… suddenly...don't know him…"
"…its a big camp… possible…"
"…not sure…"
The soldier seemed uncertain but not quite suspicious of him yet. That was good.
Lelan listened, then nodded slowly. When she looked back at Grub, something in her expression had shifted she didn't seem to trust him but was willing to proceed. She expected something. She said the word clearly this time. Grub recognized it immediately.
Name.
She slid a piece of paper toward him with something to write with. Grub's stomach tightened. He should've expected this. Of course it would come to this. He couldn't write their language.
Not even poorly. Anything he put down would expose him instantly. For a brief moment, panic surged again. Then he forced it down.
Think.
He leaned forward and took the paper anyway, staring at it as if trying to understand. He held it there for a few seconds, letting the silence stretch, then slowly shook his head and pointed toward his eyes.
Lelan blinked.
She spoke again, a slight shift in tone.
"…blind?"
Grub shook his head quickly.
No.
Then he made a small motion with his fingers, mimicking the motion of calling something a little or a tiny bit. He hoped she would get he meant he was a tiny bit blind.
Lelan paused for a second before nodding.
Understanding, or at least accepting. She wrote something quickly on the paper, then looked back at him.
"…name… explain."
Grub's mind raced. He needed something simple. Something that required no explanation. His eyes flicked across the tent. He was looking for something, anything he could use.
Then— They landed on it.
It was a simple jug sitting on a counter. He pointed at it.
Lelan followed his gesture, then looked back at him. She wrote something down.
"…Jug?" She asked as she stared at him.
Grub nodded immediately.
Yes. That was it. That was who he was now.
Lelan held his gaze for a moment longer, as if measuring something she couldn't quite define. Then, slowly, she nodded.
He was accepted. For now. She soon gestured for him to go.
The soldier stepped forward again, motioning for Grub to follow. They exited the tent and moved deeper into the camp, away from the more structured areas and into a section that felt noticeably different. It was looser and was less controlled than other areas.
The lizards here moved with less confidence, their posture less defined, their actions less precise. He could tell immediately that they were new recruits. Not only from their body language but their uniforms as well. Lelan was of a higher ranking and had a much different uniform than the others. Grub noticed the change of the uniforms between each rank.
The soldier gestured toward the group, then turned and left without another word. Grub stood there for a moment. Then slowly and quietly, he exhaled. He had made it through. Just barely, but he made it.
As he looked around, he could feel the attention immediately. Eyes turned toward him, openly curious, openly confused. A cloaked figure, silent, unreadable—it was impossible not to notice.
It felt familiar. Like his first day meeting the survivors . The way everyone had looked at him. That same mix of curiosity and suspicion.
Grub walked slowly to a nearby log and sat down, forcing the movement to feel natural and unremarkable. He wanted to blend in but his outfit made him stick out. So he need to pay extra attention of not drawing attention
Then he did what he had always done. He observed his surroundings slowly and took in the sights, cataloguing each moment in his mind. Only now he was inside.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, beneath the tension and focus, a quiet thought lingered. He wondered how long he would have to hide himself. And if they would accept him once he revealed his true colors.