In the Spring of Year 0, a great thunderstorm rocked the nameless planet monikered Home. This thunder-and-lightning storm would bring life to a strange species, known simply as Sabos. They are the first intelligent species, and the first omnivores, on this planet. This is their birthplace, but other than this, nothing is set in stone...
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--- Hi! I'm the admin of the site, and the creator/owner of the Sabo species and the forum. I'm super glad you were able to read this, since that means you took interest! <3 I hope you end up joining the forums for real. We'd love to have you!
Thunder roared through the skies, a deep resonant tone that echoed across the land in it's primal rage, the winds howling in symphony like the keening wails of some great beast lurking in the dark roiling mass of clouds that hid both sun and stars in an inky black writhing torrent of malevolent clouds. Rain poured in sheets, in waves, threatening to flood and drown the whole of land it seemed as the torrid murky edge of the lake slowly rose gaining on the muddy and silt laden banks. No celestial bodies pierced the cloud cover with their light, and everything was dim and shadowy save when lightning struck down, it's searing white light illuminating what seemed nearly the whole world for a precious second before vanishing. Indeed it was a storm like no other with a mind and vengeance of it's own, and it seemed almost as though it intended to claim the whole of the lake as it's own, raining punishment upon the creatures who scuttled to cower in meager shelter or were caught in the open and beaten to the ground with icy rain and thrashed by the vicious wind.
Yet it was this almost apocalyptic seeming storm that brought forth a new life. A spark one might say, with some irony. A lightning strike hit, and in a flash the lake glowed with electricity, the searing energy sinking itself into the mud and dissipating as the charge of the strike faded. But the after effects lingered several moments, a buzz in the air hanging over the silt covered earth. A trick of the eye maybe, and what had seemed a lump in the mud seemed now a shape, then taking form it seemed to grow, though one couldn't be sure how or why. However there was no mistaking that something had happened. Something big.
Cold. It wasn't a sharp feeling, but a dull ache as it numbed his whole body, the mud sunk into his fur and the icy water weighing his coat down penetrating his thick body with a slow driving persistence. Clumsily he struggled to comprehend what was happening. He hadn't felt anything before. Hadn't thought anything before. The thoughts buzzed in his head, questions, feelings, confusion and uncertainty. He felt stifled, his fur unconsciously pricking. Some deeper primal part of him struggled to free himself, he felt trapped, like there was a pressure all around him, holding him down, keeping him from moving. At first he couldn't move at all, then slowly with a tearing sucking sound barely audible over the roar of the storm, he managed to free one of his forelimbs. Using the leverage to lift his head, he shook the mud from his eyes and opened them, dark yellow irises flashing in the dark, and wincing as rain drops sloshed into them. Narrowing his eyes, his first visual impression of the world was of darkness and chaos, his first audible impressions of ceaseless noise, the slapping of rain and water and the howling of wind punctuated with the tremble and clap of thunder. Ears pressing flat against his skull and eyes squinting against the rain he growled, a low rumble in his chest.
His first instinct was to retreat for a moment, to find shelter. But he was still mired deep in the mud and silt, the sucking muck and his own waterlogged fur dragging him down. Pulling on his other forelimb with all his might, he felt as though it was going to tear off when finally, with another sucking pop, he managed to pull it out, his earth smeared fur plastered flat against his bone and muscle. The problem now lay in trying to free the other half of his body, still buried in mud. Scrabbling at the mud in front of him, he fought to find something to use as a hold and pull himself up onto, his claws digging uselessly through the grime as frustration started to come over him.