Mora And The Flying Iguanas
Mora surveyed her eggmates with an air of deliberate disregard. It wouldn’t do for them to think she’d give a hoot if a predator nabbed them. Look at someone twice and they always thought that you’d give a limb to save them from the flying Iguanas. Bah.
Mora dashed for cover and the Iguana landed less than three feet away. Her toughness melted as she looked gratefully at the sentry that had sounded the alarm. But no, she mustn’t let herself feel like this, or one day an Iguana would come and she’s rush out to help someone and end up just like Lora, Vero, Mrida, Tolo and the others. Not loving people was hard, but she steeled herself against the mushy feelings that threatened to engulf her. Tough did the trick.
She crouched low, unwilling to look at her fellow comrades in peril and waited until the threat was over before creeping out from under the tree.
Parental A hooted his approval: she’d hid fast and pride glowed blue in his face. She did a little happy dance.
Screech! The Iguanas were coming back. Mora saw Lolo scratching his bottom on the hill, oblivious of the attack. He was not smart and he didn’t hear so well.
Without thinking, Mora dashed out, reaching him just as the Iguanas were ready to pounce, bowling him over and pushing him under a root to safety. She looed with elation as the warm feeling of saving people swelled up from her tummy, but then the sharp toes of the Iguanas caught on the tender flesh under her pelt. She kicked and fought in the air, bobooing for help, but she knew the parentals wouldn’t even look up.
They took out their notebooks and ticked a name off. That’s all they could do. Even parentals were impotent to stop the Iguanas.