Victor suddenly awakens while still half submerged underwater. It seems his shirt had caught onto some branches by the shore, though judging by how low the sun was he must've been knocked out for a couple of hours at least. Although his limbs felt like they were filled with lead and knew he had to get himself back on land no matter how tired he was.
After spending all his strength he was barely able to flop ungracefully on the ground. His face was in the dirt as his knees gave out on him and his ass was sticking in the air, but he was too exhausted to give a damn. Oh, how soothing it was to be on stable ground, resting as the breeze caress his weary body. He so desperately wanted to close his eyes, to sleep his troubles and pains away, just a little bit. Just a moment.
However, he wouldn't, couldn't, give up here. Thoughts of his friends and family on the other side of this God forsaken land, this "Dungeon" rang through his mind. Were they experiencing the same thing he was? or something else? Something even worse? If he was struggling this much then how would his weak mother or sickly brother cope? What about his friends? Rachel had recently broken her leg if he recalled, and Dylan couldn't fight his way out of a wet paper bag!
They needed him and he couldn't afford to sit on his ass waiting to die. The wrinkled and green sneers of his abusers flashed through his mind and along with it a surge of rage, but more important, strength. He would be damned to hell before he let those monsters win, let them hurt his family and friends.
After a monumental effort, Victor managed to shakily get on his knees, slowly crawling towards the bank he had just managed to get out and found a suitable branch to use as a cane. It would do for now. Searching around the area he managed to gather a considerable amount of twigs, dead leaves, and stone.
"Gotta focus," he muttered to himself as he thought on what needed to be done. He was too tired to look for food, especially with his injuries, plus with the sun setting and him having no clue about the lay of the land or what other possible creatures lurked within the dark he would just get himself killed. No, it was better to find a shelter and recuperate his strength before anything else. He had ended up near somewhere far away, the once rapidly flowing river had turned into nothing more than a gentle brook. The trees here were far more sparsely packed compared to the dark and menacing forest he had been in which had its canopy blocked out the sun and choked the life out of any plants below, denying them of any light.
Here, however, there was plenty of variety in plant life. He saw a few flowers and even some bushes with various berries! Even from his considerable distance, he could smell the pleasant scents of the flowers tempting others to indulge in their beauty. He wasn't much for a guy for picking flowers and smelling roses, but even he was tempted by them and those berries looked absolutely scrumptious, fully and undoubtedly juicy, ripe for the picking. However, it would be incredibly idiotic to go around touch plants or eating random berries in the woods.
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That was a quick way to get yourself killed. He shook his head before looking around the area, limping along and leaning most of his weight on his makeshift walking stick. There didn't seem to be any sign of animals in the area, and that was as much a godsend as a cause of concern.
Why was it so empty? There's always a reason behind something, and such a seemingly great area with a freshwater source was devoid of animals? Something was terribly wrong and a creeping sense of dread started to fill him. However he was in no condition to look for greener pasture elsewhere so to speak, so he decided to make his shelter next to one of the larger trees.
The wind was picking up and he had to suppress a sneeze. He didn't want to attract any nearby animal by making too much noise after all. As his arms rippled into gooseflesh from the sudden cold he decided to start on one of the basics of outdoor survival: Making a fire.
After all after soaking for who knows how long in the water he felt and looked like a wet dog, and if he didn't want to get sick or die from hypothermia then he had to get it going quick.
Grabbing a particularly large half rotten branch he took a sharp rock and dug a small notch in it. He took a small twin but sturdy twig and began his task, grinding and rubbing the small twig at the notch with rapid back and forth movement, building up speed and friction. It took a while and for a moment he wondered if it was going to work at all. Was the wood not dry enough? Was his technique too rough? Should he use more force? Maybe his hands were shaking too hard.
Countless doubts invaded his mind, but before he gave up he started to see what he was looking for. The small bits of sawdust he was making was turning darker and soon they were completely black. A small wisp of white smoke flew out. A large grin grew on his face at his success before he quickly sped up and gently transferred the small embers into a "Nest" he had made for it made of dried grass he had carefully shredded into fine strands and crushed leaves.
As soon as the embers landed he gently blew on it on his hands formed a protective cocoon to defend against the winds. As if caring for a baby he slowly fanned the flames into life. Victor gave a small shout of joy as the fire started growing and began to snap small twigs and branches to keep it going. He had gathered enough to make it last through the night. As he stared at the newly made campfire he stared lost in thoughts.
"You guys, you're fine... Right?" He wondered out loud. Only the crackling of flames answered him and for a moment his eyes stung with unshed tears. "Wait for me, I'm coming, I promise." A plead and an oath, with only the stars as witnesses he tucked his head down to his knees. Whether it was an act mercy or disdain, the howling of the wind drowned out his cries nonetheless, and for that he was thankful.