Chapter Text
January 6th, 201M2020 BC.
Volcaldera Bluffs.
Weather Conditions? My tail is about to fall off.
When I first learned I would be moving to Volcaldera Bluffs–scratch that–moving to Dinofornia, I was expecting a cool 70 degrees year-round. So imagine my surprise when I first arrived, and I still had to wear my jacket.
Not to mention I can barely see anything, and me being genetically cursed with being 4’11” due to the blight known as being born a compsognathus doesn’t help.
What makes this even worse is the fact that my new apartment is in Scale Row. And from what various boards have told me, it’s the only part of this City of Skinnies that’s mostly dinos and, of course, without buses.
Whatever, all I have to do is make my way through the rest of the semester without talking to anyone, and I'll be alri-
Beep.
…
I stop walking and begin looking around for the source of the noise before I realize how pointless it is to try. Have I been going crazy or something? I’ve been hearing occasional beeping this whole walk.
Even before I left my apartment, I was still hearing… whatever, I don’t remember. I’m just going to keep ignoring it and continue walking; it’ll probably go away eventually.
I walk under a tree branch with ease and am blessed with the sight of… well, just sight. I can finally see more than 5 feet in front of me. I look around before realizing that I have reached my new high school.
Volcano High.
It’s big to say the least, my minuscule size along with the ominous fog only serving to amplify that fact.
‘Hope I don’t get shanked by some skinnie prick in there.’
I take a look around, a surprising lack of eyes staring back at me. Humans really can’t see for shit, huh? As my slitted eyes astutely survey the crowd, I finally begin to hear people talking about me in hushed whispers.
Looks like my earlier suspicions were right, this city really is filled with Humans. I can’t spot a single other Saurian among the student body. My eyes are being bombarded with varying dull shades and mixtures of brown and pink.
As my gaze ascends the stairs, I notice a particular Human who catches my attention.
She looks to be chatting with 2 of whom I’m going to presume friends: a girl about my height or a bit taller, and a lanky ginger dude. It’s only upon closer inspection that I realize that—Raptor Jesus, that is the palest Human I have ever seen in my 18 years of life.
Her skin is pasty, pastier than the ginger, almost blue. Her clothes are completely black, their tightness showing off… not much. Her wannabe punk-esque outfit is practically screaming for attention, and her hair appears to be flat with silvery colouration.
Wait, what the hell? Can Humans even have hair like that at our age? I’m left disoriented till I notice the red roots.
‘Ah. That makes sense. How could a skinnie have natural silver hair like tha-’
Beep.
Raptor Jesus! Is that getting louder? That sounded louder. I think I tried consulting various forums to figure out what that noise could possibly be when I woke up this morning. But other than people slinging insults and calling me many colourful synonyms of disordered, all I got was a handful of people telling me to check my smoke detector.
A helpful piece of advice. At least it would be if my piece-of-crap apartment actually had one. Wait, did I do that? Whatever, my poor decision-making skills that led me to playing Rock Ring late into the night are to blame for this nettling grogginess.
...
"Tch..."
It's only at the near-silent sound of someone sucking their teeth somewhere ahead of me that I realize I've been lost in my thoughts for the past minute or so. That and the wannabe punk glowering at me. Shit, I've been staring at her like some dumbass this whole time.
She's looking at me like I'm trash, pure Saurian garbage. The intensity of her gaze is... oddily petrifying.
...
Have I met her somewhere? Nah, I probably saw her on my trip here. But that stare... I've seen that nightmarish stare.
...
She's still staring.
...
Look away. Please, look away.