Wyvern
The first thing I ever saw was you.
You were giving what I would later find out was a sermon. It sounded like a damn fine one, all harsh consonants and booming vowels. You spoke like thorns were being pulled from your side with each word, and you loved the pain. Of course, I couldn’t parse your meaning, because
The first thing I ever felt was hunger.
It was a desperate, immediate thing, something that can’t be remembered in its full intensity, but when I first rose from the water, naked and unknowing, it was everything.
I couldn't understand. You just stood there, preaching. Didn't you know the pain I was in? Surely you must, you, my creator?
And yet you stood there preaching, and I was left to wonder. Were the words an offer? Was I allowed? Would it be okay? It must have been your intent. You must have had a plan for it, for this hunger you built me with.
The first thing I knew was that eating you would be the right thing to do.
Looking back with calmer heads, I do stand by the decision.
After all, you made me, and I am made of you.