Jack

The hatchling wormed his way into Maximus' garden and has been contented forever after.

He mostly speaks via body language.

Since he was not among the escapees, the remainder of the gang assumed he'd been trapped down in the caverns with the rest. In truth, he'd smelled the danger almost immediately as vile, stinking smog billowed up from the vents of the deep cavern air-exchange system. Frantically, he'd pounded his fist against the garden's intercom button, trying to rasp and squeak out a warning, but in vain - he couldn't be heard, let alone understood. Hit by a stroke of brilliance, he remembered the old, backup ventilation system, something he'd only heard mention of - before the age of Maximus' temperate, perfumed, pleasantly humid gardens and carefully planned-out system of intakes and outputs, the dig site had used crudely fashioned pumps to forcibly suck air out of the depths. With a rush of courage, he flew back to the main site and turned them on, hoping against all hope it might save his strange little family.

But then he returned to the garden. With a sinking heart, he saw how foul mist had pooled in every little divot and ditch in the ground. There was no hope. What sinks in air sinks in the lungs too, and poisons the plants just as well. Determined to save at least one good thing in the world, he switched off the garden vents, then head, weeping, for the distant hills.



The rise of the rabble-rousers and the persistence of the rest of the survivors delights him, bringing him to wheezing, sawtoothed cackling at the durability of life. However, he chooses to stay out of it. If they need his assistance, he will intervene. For now, better to keep an eye on them from the greenery.

Theme!