Dakota felt as if he had run a marathon. His muscles were sore, his bones ached, and his mind felt like it had been through a blender a couple of times.

He had no idea what just happened. Did the island…do something to him? He flexed his hand. It felt normal. Shoot, superhuman strength would have been fantastic right about now. He rested his head against his soaked clothes. The lamb shuffled before leaning on his shoulder.

Closing his eyes, Dakota took a deep breath. He had forgotten how nice it was to have a friend. As he relaxed, something brushed against him. His head snapped up. Nothing moved around him, no goblins, no animals, not even a bee. He could have sworn he felt a gentle touch against…against his mind? Closing his eyes, he tried relaxing again. A few moments later, the same something brushed by him. It felt intelligent, which scared him. Actually, it almost felt like he recognized the presence. A familiar revulsion bubbled up in his stomach. Oh, no way… he wasn’t feeling the goblin chief, was he.

It was like he had developed a sixth sense. This one for sensing people, or creatures. The feeling was faint, barely registering unless Dakota blocked out his other senses. The chief was somewhere on the edge of the island. He didn’t know how he knew the chief was near the edge, he just knew. Also, he got the vague sense he was slightly off-center from the middle of the island.

Out of any creature on this island, his head had to connect with the only disgusting piece of garbage there was. Great. Just great.

Dakota hoped the chief couldn’t feel him, although he doubted it. An ability like this felt like it would go both ways. It was clear the island had done something. The chief had mentioned how Dakota had been interrupting his “claiming”. Did this have anything to do with it? Was the goblin chief trying to claim an island. The idea was ridiculous, except his situation was also ridiculous. Islands didn’t float in midair. They also didn’t have veins that burned you when touched. Who was to say you couldn’t claim an island.

Groaning, he packed up, slinging the lamb across his shoulders. Every living creature on the island had probably seen the geyser. Doubtless, the goblins would send a scout to check out what had happened. Dakota intended on being long gone by then.

He climbed to the peak again, giving the island one last look over. Was that smoke on the island’s edge? Skidding into a better spot, Dakota tried to make out specifics. He had good vision but it almost felt like his eyesight sharpened as he peered.

There was a camp over there, near the edge of the island. Little creatures were running around as a great ploom of smoke rose.

“Some sort of sick goblin ritual probably.”

Dakota hoped it was coincidental but he feared it was because of what he had done. Time to get out of here.

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The lamb, “baah’ed” as he jogged down the mountain.

“Sorry, little buddy, going to be a bumpy ride.”

It licked his ear, sending shivers down his spine.

“Stop it… stopitstopit…stop it.”

Dakota clamped a hand over its mouth. That was enough. The lamb let out a muffled cry.

“If you behave, I’ll let go, alright.”

The lamb side-eyed him, quite literally in its case, for a second before turning its head away. He let go…

“That’s more like it.”

Dakota trudged into the farmhouse. He set the lamb down, pausing to munch on a few berries before heading to the garden. The sun was going down as he uprooted a potato plant. It wasn’t mature yet but he was hungry.

He rekindled the fire while cutting slices of potato into the pan. A sploosh of water sent a cloud of steam past his face. He didn’t have any salt or seasonings but his mouth watered nonetheless. Plain spuds had never smelled so good.

As Dakota salivated over his meal, the lamb let out a wail. And another wail, and another.

“Shh, it’s okay, it’s alright.”

Dakota cuddled it in his arms but nothing would comfort it. He thought he knew why. It was hungry, just like him.

He tried feeding it some hay but the lamb cried even harder as the stalks poked it in the face. This sucked. Why did he feel responsible for something the goblins had done. It was their fault! Of course, the lamb didn’t understand any of that.

This is what you asked for when you picked it up.

He should have killed it then, it would have been easier for the both of them. The lamb kept crying as he guiltily scarfed the potatoes. Perhaps it would fall asleep in a little while…

Dakota’s bloodshot eyes gazed into the night air. The lamb. It hadn’t fallen asleep. He could still hear it crying as he walked around the outside of the house. He had initially felt sorry for it, then angry. It wouldn’t stop making noise! Now…now he was depressed. Nothing helped. He had tried giving it some water but it didn’t know how to lap it up. It was dying, and Dakota would hear every step the suffering creature made toward that finality.

He went back inside and curled up against the trembling creature, tears dripping onto its white coat.

“I’m sorry.”

He had wanted a friend. He had been willing to risk the lamb dying a slow death for the chance at having companionship. Now he couldn’t even find the courage to end its misery.

“I…I..I’m s..s.sorry.”

Dakota’s chest heaved as he clutched the creature. It wasn’t fair. Why was he chosen to survive here, to suffer here. Why did it have to be him.

His mind slipped into darkness as the two of them lay on the kitchen floor.

He would kill every goblin on this island.

[Frontier Farmer Level 11]

[New Skill - Bonded Creature]