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Once upon a time, the Digital World was in grave danger. Evil spread across the land, corrupting some and crushing others. A chosen few heroes stood up to turn it back, confronting loss, betrayal, and power beyond their comprehension; the odds were slim, and victory would come at a heavy price.
This is not that story.
This story starts in Primary Village, on a bright, sunny Hatching Day. The eggs are starting to move. Who will we meet today?
One egg has been wobbling pretty violently. Its inhabitant wants out.
Eventually, the little blob thinks to put his wings on opposite sides of the egg and stretch and push, and with that the egg splits in half. "Putti!" he exclaims, shaking traces of fluid off his golden wings.
The world is big and pretty. He knew this already, somehow - but it's different seeing it. He marvels for a moment. It's almost as pretty as he knows he is.
Speaking of himself, he's going to do his best to devour his eggshell. This feels Correct. It split into two equal pieces, each of which is far too big to fit into his mouth, but that is a challenge, and Puttimon will not back down from a challenge. He stretches his mouth open wide and fits it around the slightly smaller piece, then with a crunch, he crunches it.
Cronch!
The pieces of shell fracture in his mouth, sweet and salty like peanut brittle.
Puttimon likes it! He chomps his way through the rest of the shell.
He looks up. The sky is full of delicious-looking fluffy white things. He leaps into the air and flaps his tiny wings furiously, but he can only get a few body-lengths into the air before falling back to the ground. That's annoying! In his rage and fury, he munches on some grass.
The delicious-looking fluffy things are unfazed, but the grass yields readily to his bite. It's crisp and leafy, with the perhaps surprising flavor of a breeze lifting his feathers.
That is surprising! But it’s also very welcome. Maybe this will help him get to the fluffy things? Only one way to find out: keep eating grass.
!!
He hadn't considered that those other eggs might contain potential friends. A clear oversight. He considers which is more important, reaching the sky or befriending as many other creatures as he possibly can.
He swallows his current mouthful of grass and hop-flutters over to the nearest potential friend and bumps into them gently. "Putti!" he chirps.
"Tsubu," it replies, rolling in a small circle. It hop-bumps him back, perhaps a little more forcefully.
Puttimon considers this action. He wants to do something back, but any further escalation of hop-bumping might be perceived as unwarranted aggression, and failure to match Tsubumon's energy would be disappointing. (He doesn't think this in so many words. It's more like "he bump me!!! bump back? hmm. hmmmmmmm. no.") What to do, what to do?
After some thought, he stretches out a wing and gently pats Tsubumon. Pat pat.
Ooh, bouncing! Good plan. Puttimon bounces high and flutters his wings to get even higher.
If bouncing is sure to result in victory then you must bounce! Someone said that, surely. Regardless Tsubumon bounces as high as it can, with great enthusiasm if perhaps less height than Puttimon. ...Speaking of which, it feels like maybe his flutters are getting him more height than last time.
Puttimon trills with joy at his increased hopping ability! Then he decides to see if eating even more grass will result in even higher hops.
It certainly results in eating more grass! And if he keeps trading off the eating and hopping, then before too long he'll be able to keep himself in the air on his own flutterpower.
(Tsubumon isn't seeing the same kind of results, though. After a bit he'll hop off to do something else.)
Aw, but he was gonna... whatever, not important, he can fly again. He takes a few more fortifying bites of grass and hops into the air and starts fluttering his wings as hard as he possibly can. He will rise! He will ascend! He will eat the fluffy things in the sky!
Flutterflutterflutter he's going he's rising he's doing it... nope. He falls the half-dozen body lengths back to the ground.
Squish.
He growls as ferociously as he can, which given his limited size amounts to more of an adorable squeak. He thinks about eating some more grass, but he’s bored of grass. He will instead... hop up and down in frustration. That sounds productive.
Once he’s done with this important task, he shakes himself vigorously and looks around to see if there’s anything interesting happening. Since he can’t do the best thing.
Two blobs are circling each other, occasionally making a lunge but never getting off a clean hit?
Another blob is hopping up at some fruit hanging from a trellis vine, but never quite reaching it?
...oh! That second blob has Puttimon's problem! But while Puttimon can't solve his own problem, he's got enough hops to solve this version.
Puttimon hops up and flutters up to the fruits and attempts to bite through the vine. This fails, because he doesn't have teeth and his bite strength is not great. After some deliberation, he closes his mouth around the vine and slides down it sideways, detaching the fruits as he goes. They shower onto the ground, as does Puttimon.
"Putti!" he says modestly.
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