Whoosh.
A massive cloud of dust swept into the morning sky as a feather duster violently smacked against a stack of old boxes.
Inside the small, old-fashioned, but meticulously clean clinic, Old Larry neatly folded the white sheet on the examination table into a tight square.
He was currently deep-cleaning and disinfecting a massive array of veterinary tools that clearly hadn’t been touched in years.
He was officially living out of the zoo’s medical station now.
The small building contained a massive amount of his old belongings from his youth.
Moving in meant he finally had to sort through the clutter and decide what to keep and what to throw away.
Rustle.
The coarse feathers of the duster brushed against a stack of old, worn paperbacks on a wooden bookshelf, making a soft scraping sound.
As the thick layer of grey dust was cleared away, the faded titles of the books were finally revealed.
Most of them were miscellaneous collections of folklore and regional myths.
The most prominent one sitting on top was a thick copy of the Classic of Mountains and Seas.
Old Larry remembered he used to flip through these old mythological texts whenever he had some downtime.
It was the exact reason he had chosen the name “Titan” for his scaly new friend—it fit that ancient, imposing mythical aesthetic.
“Ancient folklore and strange local tales?
I completely forgot I still had these,” Old Larry muttered to himself.
He pulled a thin book from the middle of the stack, glancing at the cover.
He flipped through the delicate pages, struggling slightly to translate the archaic text.
Finding a few interesting short stories about local cryptids, he smiled and slid the book back onto the shelf.
“Heave-ho…”
Old Larry grabbed a heavy plastic crate filled with damaged, unreadable books with both hands.
He lugged them out of the clinic, fully intending to drop them off with the recycling collector on his way back from the morning market.
“Hmm?”
He paused mid-step.
He noticed a worn-out, foldable canvas recliner sitting randomly by the door, having nowhere else to go.
A sudden, brilliant idea sparked in his mind.
Where is Old Larry with my breakfast?
Titan lay flat on the grassy shoreline with his jaws wide open, actively pondering the whereabouts of today’s food delivery.
The eagle-owl was still fast asleep, nestled securely in the branches of the island sapling.
As always, she was completely confident that she could just casually mooch a delicious meal off Titan the second she woke up.
On another note, being a crocodile was actually incredibly tedious.
They needed to actively bask in the sun to regulate their body temperature, but they couldn’t get too hot, and they absolutely couldn’t just avoid the sun entirely.
When a relaxing hobby becomes a mandatory biological chore, it quickly loses its appeal.
Titan, who initially loved the feeling of sunbathing, was already getting incredibly bored of the daily routine after less than a week.
While the warmth was indeed comfortable, he desperately wanted to find something more engaging to do.
Rumble…
Suddenly, the loud, mechanical roar of a gasoline engine ripped Titan’s drifting thoughts back to reality.
The noise also startled the eagle-owl out of her deep sleep.
What is going on?
Titan didn’t make any rash movements.
He first exchanged a knowing, cautious glance with the owl before slowly crawling out of the lake and waddling toward the corridor.
Clang.
The heavy iron gate swung open effortlessly.
While Titan and the owl had been incredibly careful to pull the gate shut when they snuck back home last night, the heavy deadbolt wasn’t engaged, making it incredibly easy for Titan to simply push it open again.
Indistinct chatter echoed down the hall.
It sounded like a conversation between several humans.
One voice clearly belonged to Old Larry, while the others were completely unfamiliar.
As soon as Titan reached the end of the corridor, he utilized his “Perception” ability—a bizarre spatial awareness skill that a standard crocodile absolutely did not possess—to investigate the situation at the zoo’s main entrance.
A delivery truck was parked out front.
Old Larry stood near the ticket booth, holding a clipboard in his left hand and a ballpoint pen in his right, carefully confirming the inventory checklist.
Titan roughly guessed what the delivery was for.
These decorative plants had been ordered around the same time Bear Number Four arrived.
It seemed Old Larry was incredibly serious about giving the crippled cub a proper, enriching habitat.
About ten minutes later, all the necessary landscaping items were neatly arranged near the zoo’s entrance.
After saying goodbye to the delivery workers and signing the clipboard, Old Larry wiped the sweat from his forehead.
He turned around and immediately spotted Titan lurking at the entrance of the corridor.
His lips twitched slightly in exasperation, but he still smiled and waved at the baby crocodile.
Old Larry had excellent eyesight.
He knew he hadn’t locked Titan’s iron gate, sticking to his promise from the day before.
However, he had absolutely no idea that Titan actually possessed the physical dexterity and intelligence to lift the heavy metal drop-latch by himself.
Seriously, what kind of reincarnated demon did I accidentally adopt into this zoo?
Titan desperately wanted to wave his scaly paw in response to the greeting, but his crocodilian anatomy aggressively objected to the motion, forcing him to abandon the idea.
“Come here, Mr.
Titan.
Do me a massive favor, will you?
Could you keep an eye on Number Four while I move all this heavy stuff inside?”
Old Larry squatted down and began to casually negotiate with the baby crocodile in a soft, coaxing tone.
To any outside observer, this scene would look like absolute, undeniable proof that Old Larry had completely lost his mind.
But considering the baby crocodile had literally just saved the old man’s life the day before, Old Larry felt that casually talking to him was a perfectly rational response.
Frankly, he felt restrained for not building a shrine in the crocodile’s honor.
As for Titan, who literally had nothing better to do, he naturally accepted the babysitting gig.
He waddled leisurely down the path, following closely behind Old Larry.
Along the way, Old Larry glanced into the wide-open crocodile exhibit but completely failed to notice the massive eagle-owl hiding perfectly still in the tree branches.
Titan trailed behind the old man, discreetly checking on his owl sister.
Seeing that the coast was clear, the owl simply puffed her feathers and went right back to sleep.
Clang.
Another iron gate swung open.
Old Larry and Titan walked into the black bear exhibit one after the other.
Well, it was obvious that animal cubs who actually had their mothers raised them to be much more timid than orphans.
Unlike the fierce, aggressively territorial Cat Number Two, Bear Number Four was incredibly anxious and skittish.
Even in the broad daylight, the cub huddled nervously inside the red plastic bucket Titan had given him the night before, highlighting his severe lack of security.
Hopefully, the new landscaping will make him feel a bit safer.
“Squeak?”
The little black bear let out a soft, questioning moan.
After confirming the identity of his two visitors, the cub lifted the red bucket off his head and eagerly hopped toward the man and the crocodile.
Seeing the cub’s cheerful, bouncy expression, Old Larry immediately assumed it wanted a hug.
He gently set the heavy sapling down on the grass, dropped into a half-squat, and warmly opened his arms wide.
But then…
Bear Number Four completely bypassed Old Larry, waddled right past his open arms, and threw his fuzzy body directly onto Titan, hugging the baby crocodile tightly.
…
The atmosphere in the enclosure suddenly became incredibly awkward.
Titan watched as Old Larry casually stood back up, nonchalantly dusted the dirt off his trousers, turned around with a strained smile, and gave the crocodile a slow thumbs-up.
“You really are just the absolute best.”
From Old Larry’s perspective, the deeply affectionate black bear cub that had been clinging to him for dear life just yesterday had officially been stolen by the crocodile overnight.
“Squeak?”
“Rumble.”
Titan gently pressed the little black bear down with his scaly paws. This story is hosted at novelping.com.
He let out a soft growl toward Old Larry, essentially signaling the old man to hurry up and finish the landscaping.
But proper exhibit renovations definitely weren’t going to be quick.
It took Old Larry half an hour just to lug all the heavy plants and soil into the enclosure.
Factoring in the time needed to prep his gardening tools, dig the holes, and carefully transplant the saplings, the entire morning quickly vanished.
Titan was initially very dedicated to his babysitting duties.
However, he eventually grew bored and simply started playing a mock death-rolling game with the bear cub on the grass.
Eventually, the two of them hit it off so well that they teamed up and started playfully harassing Old Larry while he tried to dig.
The two little troublemakers flanked Old Larry, completely ignoring the concept of “staying in the enclosure.” They chased the old man back and forth down the corridor, eventually sharing a communal lunch break with Cat Number Two.
The only slight difference was that two of them were eagerly slurping warm milk, while the other was aggressively tearing into raw meat.
Old Larry didn’t quite understand why Titan insisted on holding a massive chunk of raw chicken in his jaws without actually swallowing or spitting it out.
He simply chalked it up to a bizarre, crocodilian hoarding instinct and didn’t give it a second thought.
As the sun began its slow descent across the sky, the afternoon heat set in.
While Old Larry was busy carrying a very sleepy Bear Number Four back to his newly renovated enclosure, Titan quietly waddled back to his own exhibit.
He secretly stashed the chunk of chicken near the sapling for the eagle-owl to eat later, then casually returned to the corridor, acting as if absolutely nothing had happened.
He wasn’t afraid that Old Larry would aggressively drive the owl away if he discovered her.
Rather, he was terrified that Old Larry was simply too kind.
The eccentric old man would probably try to build a massive, luxurious birdhouse for the owl, which would completely spook the wild raptor and ensure she never visited him again.
Ahem, I am so incredibly devious.
Hmm?
Titan noticed Old Larry struggling to drag a folding canvas recliner down the corridor.
Did this belong in Number Four’s exhibit too?
“Make way, make way.
Coming through, Mr.
Assistant Director,” Old Larry huffed, waving his hand to signal Titan to move aside.
Titan obediently backed into his own enclosure, using his snout to push the iron gate open as wide as possible.
Rustle.
The tall grass was flattened as Old Larry aggressively unfolded the canvas recliner, setting it upright on the flat ground right next to Titan’s artificial lake.
Wait, was Old Larry actually planning to…
Before Titan could even verify his ridiculous guess, Old Larry returned a second time.
This time, he was carrying a battery-powered transistor radio and a small folding wooden table.
So, you essentially just turned my private enclosure into your own personal backyard?
Titan was a little speechless, but he honestly didn’t mind too much.
After all, the eagle-owl was strictly nocturnal, meaning her active hours didn’t conflict with Old Larry’s afternoon relaxation schedule.
Plus, having the old man around meant Titan wouldn’t be nearly as bored while he was forced to sunbathe.
“Heh, heh.”
Old Larry chuckled slyly.
He set the radio on the table, turned the volume down to a low, comforting hum, and sank deep into the canvas recliner, thoroughly enjoying the warm afternoon sunlight.
Titan pondered the situation for a moment.
He crawled over to the side of the recliner, aligning his body perfectly parallel to the chair.
He slowly lay down flat on the grass, opening his jaws wide to bask in the heat while listening to Old Larry’s steady breathing and the serious female voice broadcasting from the radio.
The sun was shining brightly, and the breeze was absolutely perfect.
The oppressive, sweltering humidity of deep summer was absent, leaving only a comforting, tranquil warmth.
The serene silence of the surrounding forest was beautifully accompanied by the rhythmic chirping of cicadas.
“[The following is an emergency weather broadcast.
According to the National Meteorological Observatory, a Category 4 hurricane is currently tracking to pass directly through the surrounding coastal counties, accompanied by severe, localized thunderstorms.
All residents are strongly advised to secure doors and windows, stockpile emergency supplies, and minimize all outdoor activities until the storm system has passed.]”