Elliot is one year old and already certain he is in charge. 

He reigns over his bioactive terrarium like a tiny, scaly king who did not ask for this responsibility but accepted it anyway. The plants are not plants. They are obstacles. The soil is not dirt. It is land. Everything exists within clearly defined borders that he absolutely did not agree to share. 

The bugs, however, understand their role. 

Tribute. 

From his basking spot, Elliot watches the miniature ecosystem hum along—leaf litter shifting, cleanup crews working unseen, life happening on a very small scale. His orange markings glow warmly under the light, and when he holds still, he looks like a statue someone placed there on purpose. 

Stillness, however, is temporary.