From his floating vantage point on the surface of the Thundering Falls pool, Pangaea continued to observe the Great Valley’s underwater flora and fauna, alternately raising his head above the water to grab a breath of air, and ducking it beneath to watch the inhabitants of the pool. A couple of times he tried to dive down and swim underwater, but his buoyant feathers prevented him from attaining any depth whatsoever.
After spending an indeterminate amount of time engrossed in his naturalist observations (as was typical of him), Pangaea found himself suddenly jolted out of his concentration by a pang of pain shooting through his gut, coupled with an enteric growl loud enough to startle a few nearby fish.
Holy buckets! Pangaea thought, immediately recognizing the familiar ache and its accompanying sound. How long has it been since I last ate?! He tried to think back. Must’ve been last night, just before Thud showed up; those tree sweets Guido showed me.
Or was that two nights ago? he wondered. Good grief; how bad am I at keeping track of time?! In any case, it had definitely been quite some time since he had eaten anythingólonger than he was accustomed toóand he had been very active in that time. Hunger pangs for Pangaea tended to come and go; at times he would suddenly feel ravenous, like he hadn’t eaten in days, but if he delayed in responding to the impulse to fill his stomach, the feeling tended to fade. Admittedly, Pangaea loved to eat, so while he might ignore such pangs for a few hours if he was heavily focused on something at the time, he would almost always find an excuse to indulge himself before the day was out. Of course, these last couple of days had been so exciting for him that, apparently, if any of these hunger pangs had come up before, he had not noticed them. Now, however, he felt that he should definitely pay attention to them.
“Gotta eat somethin’,” he muttered, glancing for a moment at the little red shrimp swimming around him. Experimentally Pangaea snapped at one (Whether it was his taste for seafood or his Microraptor instincts that strained his reservations against attacking food that was still moving, he didn’t know), but it darted away before he even came close. Pangaea wasn’t surprised; even if he had been completely comfortable with the idea of catching some freshwater creature for food, he seriously doubted that he would be able to do so. He would have to return to land and find something to eat there. Oh well, he thought, I guess I needed to get out of the water sooner or later.
Still harboring a slight twinge of disappointment at having to abandon his freshwater observations so early, Pangaea began the awkward swim to shore.