A Little Surprise
I've had this little part of my au floating around as basically an abstract concept since the start, more or less. Now, finally, I've polished it up and included it properly!
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Life always holds a great many things to be appreciated, least of all being how the lush rainforests maintained their grandeur and warms even in the clutches of the winter months when lands to the far north and south nearly froze over every year. No, the consistency of the environment suited him just fine, and he took great pride in keeping it that way: his rounds were as regular as the forest's rainfall, starting today in the East, he travelled with the sun as far West as the forest would go. Sure, trees were felled in his wake, but there was only so much he could do to prevent that when he's - well - a Behemoth, large enough so that even Godzilla had to look upwards to meet his eye. But, still, those felled trees had purpose yet, to decay and feed their neighbours - new trees would always grow.
So, here he was, on his usual rounds of the rainforest, just coming up to the halfway point of his trek as the sun came to noon. Really, he could have made it to his destination in the West by now, but what was the point in rushing? Unless he were to heed some urgent call from either the lands he cared for or Godzilla himself, then he would take his time, as all things should do as far as he was concerned. Besides, if he maintained a steady pace as he was, it meant that he would have plenty of time to look around and make sure everything was as it should be - he knew this rainforest better than the tusks on his face, so anomalies were easy enough to spot.
That's how he knew that the little ditch under his paw was new.
He stopped and looked down at it, leaning forwards a little to see it better. Sure enough, it was a small ditch, just less than the width of his knuckles and deep enough to curve away from view underground. A tunnel, it seemed. A mound of dirt, shrubs and broken tree roots sat near the entrance to the tunnel, only recently disturbed by the looks of it.
That was odd, hadn't he passed through this area just two days ago? Had something really managed to slip past his notice? He doubted it, and instead reasoned that whatever had made this had done so afterwards.
In that moment he found himself distantly wishing that his sense of smell was even slightly more acute, at least then he might have had a chance of finding some semblance of an answer to what, exactly, had been digging. Alas, that could not be, so he turned his efforts towards working out what it wasn't: the hole was too big to belong to any of the rainforest's native fauna, of that he was certain, and near enough every kaiju that he knew of was simply too big in turn to have dug it out in the first place.
Behemoth kept looking, and quickly noticed a parting in the trees where the underbrush sat half-crumpled, torn and trampled. The disorder of the ground formed a narrow path that may have already seen frequent use, leading due North. He considered this for a moment, before straightening back up and following the little trail.
The sun had hardly had the chance to move any further West when Behemoth spotted a drop-off in the treeline where the great river parted the rainforest, and as he moved closer he could just make out the thin line that made up the opposite shoreline. He stopped with the path on the riverbank, watching as the river's dazzling grey surface sat as tranquil as could be while the water moved steadily on its journey. He looked left and right up and down the river, but he saw nothing out of the ordinary...no, wait! There, a short distance out, a dark shape moved in the water; it drifted against the current one moment and then with it the next, only to repeat the actions like it were a game.
Behemoth wasn't sure how long he stood there watching the shape, but eventually it came to a relative stop, just out of his reach. He didn't know what he expected, but the little head that breached the river's surface was most certainly not on his list. It had a narrow snout adorned with three small ridges over the top and covered in grey scales. Luminous orange-and-yellow eyes peered at him curiously with no hint of surprise, and the creature began to swim towards him. He hesitantly reached out to it, and it made now show of alarm as he dipped his long claws under the water and under the creature's slim body, gently lifting it and bringing it closer to his face so that he could see it better. The creature didn't wait for his paw to come to a halt in the air before it scrambled from where it say in the curve of his claw, up over his knuckles and onto the back of his forelimb; its own little claws were far too small to do anything more than tickle the skin under his fur as it balanced itself.
Now that he could see it better, he noted the single row of green-ish crest-like protrusions that ran along its back from the top of its neck to the end of its tail. Its scales weren't just grey, either, as he had previously guessed - the upper part of its body had dark scales, similar to the colour of the mud that formed the riverbanks, and the rest were a pale grey like the water itself, aside from the beige hue on its underbelly. The little creature chirped at him.
Behemoth scoured his mind for any definitive answer, but he kept coming up short - he had a few theories, though. Still, he wanted to be sure, and he knew just where to go to find out.
He held his forelimb so that the creature might climb onto his back or shoulder - having all four of his paws on the ground just made walking that little bit easier for him - and the creature did just that, perching lightly on his shoulder. He gave a satisfactory hum, turned, and began the trek South.
<•°•>
Behemoth's role upon this earth was invaluable. He was, essentially, responsible for keeping the planet breathing: without him, or someone else to fill his place, the vast forests of the world would, through one circumstance or another, slowly dwindle into barren wastelands, taking everything good in the air with them. The winds would become stale before they became altogether toxic, so it fell to him and his natural affinity of the subject to keep the forests alive and healthy. He would even argue that his role held just as much importance as Godzilla's; as the alpha, Godzilla protected the structure of the natural balance, but every structure needs its supports, and Behemoth's work was one such support. However, that wasn't his only task, no.
The kaiju reign's origins predated even the memory of the ground beneath Behemoth's paws - even the oldest amongst those alive today were not the first of their kind. Even so, there remained one who - if the stories were to be believed - was birthed from the very first fires of creation on earth itself, one who had lived more lives than could be counted, and would love and live a great many more. This reputation had very quickly marked her as the everlasting Queen of the kaiju, one who would advise and guide each new alpha as they came and went with a wisdom that could not be found even in the memories of the stars. At the end of each life, she became reborn, and each time she needed a place where she could return to her full being in peace and safety.
For this life, she chose Behemoth's lands to begin anew.
The responsibility of such a task at first weighed heavily on his mind, but it wasn't long before he had learned that she needed little more from him than some company with the occasional friendly conversation. Had he not known of her status, he would have called her a friend instead of a queen.
The sun was perhaps an hour from the horizon when he found the yawning entrance to her cave home, and he descended into the darkness carefully.
The cavern ceiling was high enough so that Behemoth didn't have to worry about catching his head on the slick rock, and the space was shallow enough to where he wouldn't need to spend long searching for her. In fact, he spotted her as soon as his eyes had adjusted to the low light, a larva curled up in a nest of silk. She looked up at him as he approached.
"Behemoth," Mothra greeted cheerfully. "You're earlier than usual - is everything alright?"
Behemoth nodded. "Everything's fine, I just have a question or two that I hope you can help me answer."
"Then ask, my friend."
He sat on the damp, moss-covered floor of the cave and raised a forelimb to retrieve the little creature (who had remained entirely at ease and quiet on his shoulder aside from the occasion chirp for the whole journey). He held it out in his upturned paw, where it tucked its thin limbs underneath itself and looked between to two large kaiju. Mothra hardly needed to glance at it before she spoke.
"A gojira infant?" she asked.
"Apparently so."
"Where did you find her?"
Well, that was two of his questions answered.
"Well," he started, "I found a small hole, like a tunnel entrance, and a fresh trail that lead to the river, and that's where I found her."
Mothra leaned in a little closer to the gojira, inspecting her. "She seems a little undernourished, but otherwise fine - go on, you can put her down. I take it there were no adults?"
"No, nothing."
"And...how has she behaved around you?"
"There's not much to say, she hasn't seemed cautious at all - downright friendly, I'd say." Behemoth watched the little gojira as she waddled on slightly wobbly legs to his front paw, snuffling around until she found an angle where she could start gnawing on his claw.
He heard a light chuckle from Mothra.
"Ah, then it seems she's imprinted on you."
His head snapped back up to face Mothra. "Imprinted?" he echoed.
"Gojira are a social species," she said. Then she paused and added: "mostly. Many of them prefer the company of a pack or colony, if there's enough of them, meaning their young aren't fit to make do on their own; not this young, certainly. They need some kind of guardian to look after them, and they usually find it in anything that isn't a direct threat."
"So, you're saying..."
"This little one has picked you to be her new family. You needn't worry too much, most things she'll learn by herself in time, but she will need you to provide for her until then."
Behemoth shook his head. "How do I know she's not just lost?"
"You said there was a tunnel - her kind in particular don't make tunnels unless they plan to stay."
He looked back down at the little gojira infant, where she now lay, idly scraping her miniscule teeth against his claw. He didn't have many memories of family, truth be told, and the few he that he did have were murky at best. He nodded
Then she can stay.
<•°•>
The moon was high and bright in the starlit sky by the time he bid Mothra goodbye and left the cave; he started heading back North, intending to cover some more ground before he continued the trek of his rounds in the morning. On his shoulder, the gojira shifted, yawned and fidgeted in his fur. Instead, perhaps it would be best if he just found somewhere to rest for the night.
He wandered through the trees that reached no further than his chest until he came across the face a sheer mountain. A thin waterfall tricked down the middle of it and fed a stream at the bottom. This would be as good a place as any, he thought as he settled down in the foliage.
The gojira infant climbed down his forelimb and onto the ground, sniffing and pacing until she pushed herself against the crook of his elbow and curled up with her limbs tucked underneath herself, fast asleep before she even closed her eyes. He realised then that, if he were to become her caretaker, she would need a name.
Life always holds a great many things to be appreciated, Behemoth mused, and watching the stars as he settled on a name was a new one for him. He would call her Nanta.
