The snare's wire was old but sharp—likely salvaged from crash debris, braided into high-tension line. Someone knew what they were doing. This wasn't an accident or a wild trap—it was intentional. Which meant someone in the village had set it, against council agreement.
Toren grit his teeth as he knelt beside the creature.
The leg was swollen. The wire had nearly cut to bone.
"Okay," he muttered, "you're going to hate this."
The reptilian beast huffed softly, but made no move. It only tracked him with those dark eyes—aware, but not wild. Not entirely.
He pulled a salvaged multitool from his pouch, flipped open the blade, and began cutting the binding loops one by one. Each flick of metal against wire made him wince, expecting teeth at his throat, a snap of jaws, something.
But nothing came.
The creature remained still.
When the last wire gave, its leg slumped, bleeding freely now but no longer constricted. Toren quickly packed moss into the wound, tied a strip of shirt around the thigh, and hissed through his teeth.
"Where's Kora when I need a medpack blueprint?"
"Here."Primitive Aid Kit unlocked: +1 Schematic. Add to build queue?
Toren jumped.
"Don't sneak up on me when I'm elbows deep in angry lizard."
"Clarification: intelligent quadruped native to this biome. Scaled-avian lineage. Potential for imprinting confirmed. Recommendation: maintain visual contact. Movement: slow."
He looked at the creature again.
Its breathing had slowed. Still pained, but no longer panicked.
He shifted onto one knee and looked it square in the eyes.
"I'm not here to hurt you. I just don't like seeing anything in pain."
The system blinked.
Task progress: 60%.Criteria met: non-aggressive rescue, physical aid, verbal connection.Additional requirement: survival and recovery.
It didn't say how long recovery would take. Or if the creature would even make it through the night.
But it wasn't running. Wasn't growling. It watched him like it was thinking.
He pulled his canteen, poured a bit into a cupped hand, and set it near the beast's snout.
After a moment, it drank—slowly, awkwardly, but without hesitation.
Toren sat down beside it and leaned back against the nearest tree.
"Alright," he murmured. "Guess I'm babysitting a dinosaur."
No answer.
Just the jungle wind. And the beast. And the quiet pulse of a system that was starting to feel less like a tool—and more like a mirror.