Crash!
Thick, spilled-ink clouds quickly stained the grey sky.
Jagged streaks of lightning tore through the oppressive darkness, practically ripping the night wide open.
The transformation from a gentle evening drizzle to a violent, air-to-ground missile barrage took only seconds.
A raging wind howled aggressively against the clinic’s storm shutters, letting out a muffled, terrifying roar.
Crash!
Another bolt of lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the pitch-black courtyard for a fleeting moment.
A pale blue flash filtered through the window mesh, reflecting off Titan’s scaly face against the chaotic backdrop of the torrential downpour.
The deafening roar of the rain drowned out almost all other noise.
Titan kept his gaze firmly fixed on the massive oak tree in the central square.
His golden eyes and slit-like pupils gleamed with an eerie, unsettling light in the dark.
“Don’t worry, buddy.
We just barely skirted the edge of the hurricane.
The worst of the downpour will probably pass before the sun even comes up.”
Old Larry slowly sat down at the examination desk.
He set a flickering candlestick down on the metal surface.
It was entirely unclear if he was trying to comfort the crocodile or himself.
Yes, the clinic had perfectly functional electricity.
However, Old Frank had once warned Old Larry that using power during a severe thunderstorm would act as a lightning rod for the building.
Old Larry didn’t know if that was scientifically accurate, but he wasn’t taking any chances.
Titan shifted his gaze.
He stared at Old Larry through the dim, flickering firelight for a moment before turning his attention back to the window, silently waiting for the storm to pass.
“Look at you.
You are so incredibly tense.”
Joking softly with the reptile, Old Larry pulled out a flexible measuring tape he had prepared earlier.
“Just lie perfectly flat for a second.
Let me get a quick measurement.”
Old Larry sensed something was incredibly off the moment he placed his hands on Titan’s sides.
The baby crocodile had only been living in the zoo for about a week.
When he first arrived, Old Larry could effortlessly scoop him up under one arm.
Why did he suddenly need both hands just to lift him?
Hmm.
I definitely need to buy a proper veterinary scale.
I can’t keep feeding these little monsters blindly.
I need to calculate a customized, strictly portioned diet for them.
“Let me see.
Four feet and two inches?!”
An animal could easily gain weight from overeating, but skeletal growth didn’t lie.
Old Larry distinctly remembered measuring Titan when he first arrived.
The baby crocodile had barely been three feet long.
This absolute monster had grown over eight inches in less than seven days!
Old Larry was genuinely stunned.
This was especially alarming because Titan wasn’t actually fat.
He had very little adipose accumulation.
His newly acquired body weight was derived almost entirely from rapidly increasing muscle mass and terrifyingly dense bone structure.
“This is truly bizarre.”
Titan blinked slowly.
He tried to project a look of innocent ignorance to brush off the old man’s suspicions.
However, due to his nictitating membranes, crocodilian blinking was a slow, deliberate process.
Old Larry made a mental note.
Once this hurricane passed, he needed to find an actual exotic reptile expert to take a look at Titan.
He was terrified this rapid, abnormal development might accidentally kill the poor creature.
Crash!
A deafening clap of thunder rattled the windows.
A heavy thud immediately echoed from inside the back bedroom.
Old Larry noticed the noise instantly.
He grabbed the candlestick, stood up, and hurried toward the bedroom door.
“Number Two!
Get off of Number Four’s head right now!”
With Old Larry distracted, Titan withdrew his gaze from the hallway and peered back into the dark, rain-soaked courtyard.
Something had fallen from the oak tree.
Inside the bedroom, the sounds of chaotic wrestling echoed through the wall.
It seemed the blind tiger cub had successfully pounced onto the bear’s head.
The eagle-owl nervously nudged the high medical cabinet door open.
She peeked one massive eye out to survey the clinic.
Seeing that Old Larry was gone, she leaned forward, fluttered her wings slightly, and dropped silently onto the examination table.
She clearly despised the open flame of the candle.
She kept a safe distance, turning her head to look out the window right alongside her crocodilian partner.
What are you staring at?
“Rumble.”
Titan growled softly.
He pointed his long snout directly toward the massive oak tree in the center of the square.
A large nest filled with chicks had violently blown out of the branches, crashing directly onto the concrete below.
Titan carefully used his heavy chin to snuff out the remaining candle, plunging the room into darkness.
He shot a quick glance toward the bedroom.
Seeing that Old Larry had no immediate plans of coming out, he quietly slipped off the table and dropped onto the tiled floor.
Creak.
A loose floorboard protested under his weight.
Titan froze instantly.
He stared intently at the bedroom door, waiting for a full ten seconds before continuing his stealthy advance.
Boss Croc was unusually active tonight.
The massive alligator snapping turtle paddled aggressively in its glass tank, watching intently as Titan slowly crawled toward the front entrance.
The eagle-owl tilted her head, watching Titan in total confusion.
Even she couldn’t understand the crocodile’s bizarre behavior this time.
Titan took a deep breath.
He reared up on his hind legs, tilted his head sideways, and firmly clamped his jaws around the metal door handle.
With a sharp twist of his neck, the heavy latch clicked open.
It is just a quick walk.
I will be right back.
Click.
A violent gust of wind howled into the clinic!
The chilling gale, thick with driving rain, aggressively shoved the heavy metal door wide open.
A tiny, scaly paw stepped out into the shallow, pooling water.
Massive, freezing raindrops battered violently against his dark green armor.
This isn’t as scary as I imagined.
Under the pitch-black sky, the baby crocodile waded bravely into the floodwaters.
“Number Three!”
Hearing the front door slam against the wall, Old Larry rushed out of the bedroom, grabbing the doorframe in shock.
His frantic shouts were instantly swallowed by the deafening downpour.
A profound, suffocating darkness enveloped the zoo.
The only thing remaining between heaven and earth was the incessant, violent roar of the falling rain.
Titan’s vision was quickly obscured by the thick, rolling mist.
He felt as if he were standing entirely alone at the edge of the world.
“Chirp.”
A faint, pathetic cry pierced the storm.
A tiny, featherless crow chick was lying completely exposed on the freezing concrete pavement.
It was miraculously still breathing, clinging desperately to the last fading traces of its body heat.
Why do I always end up doing this kind of thing?
Titan turned his head sideways.
He gently, meticulously scooped the fragile baby bird into his massive, razor-sharp jaws.
Letting the freezing rain batter against his scales, he turned around and began searching for his way back through the boundless darkness.
It was actually quite simple.
“Number Three!”
A warm, yellow light suddenly flickered to life in the pitch-black void.
Old Larry, wearing a thick, heavy yellow raincoat and wielding a bright kerosene lantern, came wading frantically through the deep puddles.
He had charged recklessly right into the deathly, chaotic storm to find his missing crocodile.
The old man’s countless, frantic reprimands caught completely in his throat the absolute second Titan looked up.
The pathetic, shivering chirp of the fledgling bird echoed from between the crocodile’s terrifying teeth, sounding incredibly jarring amidst the brutal downpour.
Just as Old Larry, carrying a warm lamp, had suddenly intruded into Titan’s life to save him, Titan had chosen to intrude into the fates of these helpless wild animals to do the exact same.
Without Old Larry, Titan would have died from a bullet wound.
Without Titan, Old Larry would have died alone from a heart attack.
Crash!
A blinding flash of blue and white lightning tore across the night sky.
The Zoo Director and his scaly Assistant Director, carrying a tiny yellow lantern, waded shoulder-to-shoulder through the floodwaters.
They marched defiantly against the dense, blinding sheets of rain beneath the massive, deep blue curtain of the storm.
The fates of humans and animals were completely intertwined.
Drip, drop.
Summer rainstorms are fleeting by nature.
Even a passing hurricane seems to eventually flee from the scorching, returning sun, desperately spinning away toward the open ocean.
Drip, drop.
Crystal-clear dew lingered on the dark green oak leaves.
The moisture followed the intricate veins of the foliage, flowing smoothly over the stems and clinging stubbornly to the edges before finally letting go.
Drip, drop.
A gentle breeze shook the branches.
A cluster of dewdrops fell, splashing softly against the thick tree trunk below.
Looking up from the fresh, growing branches toward the thickest, oldest part of the tree, a brand-new, securely fastened wooden birdhouse now rested comfortably against the bark.
Three tiny, fuzzy crow chicks excitedly peeked their heads out of the circular entrance.
One, two, three.
They all looked around at their bright, vibrant new world.
“Number Three, you absolutely cannot do something like that ever again.
Next time, at least warn me before you run out into a hurricane.”
“Rumble.”
Listen to yourself, old man.
I am literally a crocodile.