I was only a few months old at the time, but I still remember it. That day. An angry, chanting crowd surrounded the cliff. One of the older villagers held me over the edge, his nails digging into my dorsal fin. There was a river at the bottom of the cliff but from so high up it might as well have been solid rock. My mother screamed and cried. But it was no use. They wouldn't let her near me. I remember the fall. The hit. I should have died that day. But I didn't.

I woke up hours later, in the pitch black of night. I had washed up on the riverbank. It was so cold. Lonely. Leaves rustled, growls echoed through the trees. I scurried back into the water to hide. A spotted monster slinked into view. Fangs as long as my arms and claws sharp enough to slice through stone.

I swam a few yards down the river, never taking my eyes off the monster. I wanted to flee, I really did. But I couldn't. I was in complete awe. The monster leaned its head down to take a drink. Almost the second it's tongue touched the water, another monster leapt up and clamped it's jaws around the spotted one's neck. This monster was much larger. It had scales, similar to mine, covering its body. Both were gone in an instant.

The safety of my mothers arms was gone. This was my new home.