As I earn more experience, whispering to the leaves becomes easier.

  It means I spend less energy. Gain more from my food.

  That is good.

  Already my siblings have begun to outgrow me.

  Not profusely. But the whisper makes it hard to miss.

  I will have to work to close that gap.

  Liquify, and my meal becomes goop on its own.

  Liquify. Liquify. Liquify.

  The pool becomes slightly bigger. And deeper.

  I dig in.

  In my dreams, I’m in an ocean.

  The waves crash harshly against the white beach. I smell salt and sunscreen in the air. My feet squish wet sand and I raise a hand to cover my eyes from the sun. There is a tree growing on the edge of the water. I walk closer and the distance narrows impossibly fast. I stand at its feet and hear the leaves trying to whisper something. I try to touch the trunk and…

  Someone tugs at my sleeve. I look down and see fistfuls of shells glittering with mesmerizing colors. I take one and hold it closer to my face. There is something strange about its shape. With a shrug, I let it fall to the ground. It flies back and forth in the air before posing slowly on a passing ant. I watch as it goes to its hill a few meters away. When I peek through the top hole I see…

  Rain patters against my head. I take shelter in a nearby cabin. While I wait water begins to seep through the ground. Soon the room is flooded and I’m drowning. I see a bright light on the surface. When I swim out of the deep I find a boat. After I climb it, I start to check the horizon and see an island in the distance. I reach the white beach and I...

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  My insides have started to adapt to the strange meals.

  I can eat more and it seems I’m getting more nutrients from it.

  It’s not enough to compensate for the last few days. But in the long term I should be fine.

  The whisper sounds eager. Insistent.

  Having survived this far by its grace, I listen.

  It guides me through branches thicker than I’m used to. Further away from my siblings than I’ve ever been.

  It is when I near one of the leaves that I realize.

  We have been paddling in the kiddy pool.

  The plants here feel different. Bigger.

  I try to take a bite and I don’t manage to make even a dent.

  Tougher too.

  The whisper chatters loudly and the idea slowly starts to take shape in my head.

  Liquify, I whisper with a growing sense of expectation.

  The leaf melts into a thick syrupy puddle.

  I devour it.

  Victory.

  Whispering to these leaves is harder, but the result is worthwhile.

  They’re nutritious. Richer.

  My growth returns to normal and, though I don’t have my siblings close by to compare to anymore, I assume that it soon surpasses theirs.

  Days pass. Dark then bright.

  My skin starts to feel tight.

  I consider what might be useful now.

  A proboscis. To simplify feeding.

  Light changes to my digestive system. To specialize in liquid.

  Taste buds and an immune system boost. Now that I can’t rely on my siblings, I need other ways to make sure my food is safe.

  Anything else will have to wait.

  I sleep and listen to the whisper.

  Follow its directions.

  Find the adequate words to shape my body.

  In the distance, my siblings eat.

  And I slumber.