Anyone who has lived long enough knows the following question: Which came first? The egg or the hen? The equivalent of that, on this planet where Adonai finds himself, is Nala.
Nala's parents were the two best specimens of a native reptilian race on this planet. Both possessed bodies of considerable size compared to their kind, with superior characteristics such as thicker scales, superior visual capacity, and a more developed sense of smell. Nala's mother had flexibility incredibly superior to any female in her pack, a splendid body especially pleasing to the eye, brighter and more beautiful eyes, and a long, strong tail that allowed her feats considered impossible for others. The father, for his part, had a physical condition that made him much stronger than any other member of his species, greater size, and even thicker scales.
Although in appearance they still looked quite similar to the others, the pack treated them as members stronger than usual but within their standards. They had the habit of teaching all members of their species everything they could: which plants to consume, which beasts they could face, where to sit, where to sleep, among other things.
They met after a large-scale hunt where they hunted creatures similar to earthly mammoths but larger and with tusks with greenish tips. Immediately they felt a strong natural attraction, and after a period of courtship they mated. The pack showed no disgust, as each had the right to choose a mate.
When the mother gestated, to everyone's surprise she produced only a single egg. This drew a lot of attention from everyone. When Nala was born, she was completely different: a baby twice the size, much stronger, appearing to have greater intelligence and capacity. But the problem was her appearance: she didn't have the deep black color of the others, but instead had slight purple touches and a more humanoid face. The purple color formed part of the colors associated with poisonous animals in that world.
The pack members kept their distance, considering her a defective and potentially poisonous baby. Only her parents stayed close, loving her with all their hearts despite being wild animals with limited intelligence.
Nala grew up marginalized. In a social species, being an outcast is difficult, especially when you're aware of being much more intelligent than the others. What took the other babies a long time to learn, took her almost no time at all. Her superiority only widened the difference that affected her more and more.
*****
At this moment, Nala is sitting near a cave where a large furry beast is seated. This animal resembles an earthly bear but with thicker fur, three eyes instead of two, larger fangs, a better sense of smell, more powerful claws, and horns protruding from its skull.
Nala is sitting in front of it, calmly eating a viscous, thick liquid very similar to honey that was given to her by the beast. Moments before, Nala had seen one of the three-eyed she-bear's cubs stuck with several spines, and decided to help it by removing the spines from its skin.
If Adonai had seen this, he would remember how on Earth this action would have been quite stupid and potentially deadly. However, the reaction was completely different because the animals on this planet are considerably more intelligent. The she-bear didn't react aggressively to Nala's friendly behavior, and instead gave her a hive—or its planetary equivalent—filled with honey as a reward.
The she-bear noticed that Nala was quite sad and depressed from the lack of movement in her tail and her half-closed eyes; she seemed tired, without energy. Although she couldn't communicate verbally, she could read body language well enough to understand that Nala was going through a difficult situation. So she simply decided to let her eat in peace, allowing her to enjoy the food or drown her sorrows in the honey.
Afterwards, Nala continued remembering things about her past while savoring the honey, reflecting, or simply doing something similar.
*****
For Nala, time passed slowly and quickly at the same time. Quick in her physical growth, but exasperatingly slow in her emotional suffering. While the other cubs in the pack played happily with stones, bones, horns, or took refuge in their parents' affection, Nala remained in forced solitude. Her parents, due to their position in the pack, spent their time going from hunt to hunt, from gathering to gathering, fulfilling their duties to the group. She didn't hate them for it—she understood they were necessary, that they had a duty to fulfill—but that didn't ease the pain of her isolation.
Little by little, Nala was forced to learn to "enjoy" her solitude. Or at least, to endure it. But inside her, a bitter resentment grew. Why could everyone else have friends, enjoy company, while she was denied everything? Just for being different, for not being "normal," for not meeting the pack's standards.
This accumulated frustration began to manifest as aggressiveness. Where before, when she remained calm, others at least dared to pass near her, now, just seeing her, they quickly moved away. Her sullen attitude scared off any possible approach.
Her parents' behavior towards her also changed considerably. By being aggressive, Nala showed—from her perspective—that she didn't wish to integrate into the social environment. This led her parents to try to discipline her, first through body language, and then, when her stubbornness persisted, through acts of controlled violence. But Nala was obstinate. She wasn't willing to endure more pain, more hardship, for a place that would never accept her.
So, after another year with the pack—a year of aggressiveness and suffering in solitude—she made a decision. One year had been more than enough to confirm that everything was wrong. She didn't belong there.
But before leaving, she climbed to the highest area of a nearby hill. There, she contemplated the sunrise. She felt the fresh air rubbing against her face, heard the sound of dry leaves on the ground and the distant crackle of tree wood. In that moment of peace, she enjoyed the beauty of the world and reached a definitive conclusion: she had to leave. She had to explore that world, discover what lay beyond. Those tall stone structures we now call mountains, the giant trees, the unknown fruits, the new animals, the never-tasted substances... she had to cross the limits she had always known.
So, without ceremony, she did it. She took nothing with her—because really, nothing in the pack belonged to her—and simply left.
Once outside, Nala began to explore the world. She saw wonderful and terrifying things she could never have imagined: giant birds that covered the sky with their wings, whose mere presence shook the clouds and uprooted trees; beings that used their own blood as a weapon, a spectacle that filled her with fear. They were experiences that, even when she said she needed rest, wouldn't let her sleep, etched in her mind as reminders of a vast and unknown universe.
*****
The first time Nala encountered one of those stone beings that shot blood was an experience burned into her memory as the most traumatic episode of her life. It happened during one of her solitary explorations, when she witnessed how one of these beings—a rhinoceros with stony skin like the ones Adonai would later face—horribly massacred a pack of smaller reptiles, though of her same species. Although they weren't from her original pack, seeing beings so similar to her being torn apart with terrifying ease left her paralyzed.
It was a carnage that went beyond anything Nala had thought possible. The rhinoceros, with its imposing body and its horn capable of piercing any natural defense, demonstrated a sinister intelligence by anticipating its victims' movements and adjusting its attacks. For Nala, still young and with a mind that, although superior, wasn't prepared for such a level of gratuitous violence, that was a revelation of evil in its purest form. She couldn't understand how such a being could exist: so dark, so merciless.
From then on, Nala kept as far away from those creatures as possible. Every time she glimpsed one, instinct drove her to flee and hide immediately. But the worst was discovering that they weren't alone: they lived in packs of several dozen, and both females and males possessed the same ability to launch their blood as a corrosive and deadly weapon. This revelation plunged her into an overwhelming helplessness, a feeling of vulnerability she had never experienced, not even in her worst days of marginalization in the pack.
Despite the fear, Nala continued forward. She kept exploring, learning to move among shadows, to camouflage herself among the reddish vegetation, and to take advantage of the resources the world offered her. Some days she allowed herself simply to breathe, to enjoy the fact of being alive, of having food to put in her mouth and a safe place to sleep. Thus passed moons and cycles, until one day she found "him."
Never, in her entire life, had she expected to come across someone she could consider a true kindred spirit. He, Adonai, lived in an ingenious structure made of trees and other materials that Nala couldn't comprehend. She watched him from afar for a long time, studying his movements, his way of hunting, of eating, of resting. And she reached a conclusion: she had to approach. She had to confirm if that being, so similar to her in build and yet so different in essence, was actually what she had always longed for: an equal.
And so she did. She presented herself before him and tried to replicate the courtship ritual she had seen between her parents—the tail coiling, the rubbing, the sniffing—. But he rejected her. Not only did he pull away, but he emitted guttural sounds that, at the time, made no sense to her. Although confused, she didn't give up. She then decided to prove she was a valuable female, capable of providing. And she did so by hunting for him, bringing him gifts, insisting patiently until, finally, he yielded.
Days turned into weeks, and Nala began to live by his side. She learned his habits, shared his food, slept in his shelter, and little by little, something inside her began to bloom. For the first time, she felt she laughed—not with sounds, but with an internal vibration that filled her chest—. A void she had carried since birth began to fill. The solitude that had defined her vanished as if it had never existed.
Nala came to believe, with a certainty born from the deepest part of her being, that this clearing, this cabin, this hybrid being between human and reptile… that this was the place where she was always meant to be.
That was, until he screwed up.
*****
That very fool Adonai got the brilliant idea to get into a fight with one of those stone beings, the very ones she, simply, never in her life wanted to fight. When Nala saw the situation they were in during what was supposed to be a normal hunt, she immediately went into a defensive position, her whole body tensing in a clear warning signal. He, perhaps misinterpreting her posture as an intention to attack the stone being, responded in such a way that the fight started and subsequently intensified, inevitably.
Of course, things ended up turning out "well" if you consider that there were no serious injuries or the death of Adonai. Although it was a relatively difficult fight for him, Nala ended up enraged when she saw that this being's blood impacted her companion, going crazy and attacking the stone being with all her strength. She used an amount of force like never before in her life, driven by a protective rage that completely overwhelmed her.
Even so, after everything concluded with the death of that stone being, she couldn't help but feel a strange sensation within her, as if every inch of her being filled with rage. Even when she saw him approach inoffensively, with the intention of hugging her or rubbing his head against her, she simply wasn't capable of accepting it. She was so damn annoyed because he didn't understand her body language, because he didn't comprehend her warning, that she decided to go back to the shelter, thinking that all that whirlwind of incomprehensible emotions she felt at that moment would calm with distance.
But even the next day, she wasn't able to calm down; she was still extremely upset. So she simply went out to walk and explore the surroundings a bit, trying to calm that internal fire that wouldn't leave her. She left him completely alone, without even taking the time to look at him before leaving, abandoning him there full of pain and suffering.
But she felt the same way, tormented by questions that repeated in her mind: why didn't he heed her body language? Why did he attack that being so recklessly? Had he never faced one of them before?
In the midst of this confusion, she came across the little bear cub that was now sitting beside her, dozing while its head rested on her thigh. The cub was an adorable ball of fur, so vulnerable and trusting, that Nala couldn't help but wonder if her baby with Adonai would be as adorable or even more so. The mental image of a offspring bearing her purple scales and features, mixed with those of Adonai, arose in her mind with an intensity that took her by surprise, adding another layer of complexity to the emotional storm that was already there, doing its work.