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Section one.
The dampened soil below squelched with each of his steps, mud seeping onto his feet. Puddles were slowly forming. This was a nourishing season for the trees. Soon, new grass would sprout, and bare branches would be adorned with lush leaves. The rainwater left a curtain of mist in the boy’s wake, which would have obscured his vision had he been paying attention.
Birds chose not to fly today, instead taking perch on the trees surrounding. They watched him with curious eyes, intrigued by his solitary stride. He seemed compelled to walk, driven by forces beyond himself. He walked onward, the texture below his feet unchanging as his surroundings.
It seemed never-ending. The trees slugged by as if uninterested in his plight; they had stood here long before his birth, why should they concern themselves? They were stern in their haughty attitudes until one such tree decided it would be so kind as to help the boy.
A branch, with the help of a strong gust of wind and rain, untangled itself from another and firmly smacked him square on his forehead. It didn’t bother to move any further, sitting on his nose.
After a while, something clicked within the boy. He recoiled, albeit late to react, and looked around. Though he was disorientated, he knew where he was. After getting situated, he continued walking. He felt tired; he’d been walking slowly and for quite a while. Soon, he came across his new treehouse, and decided to dig his tools out of the ground should they sink deeper due to the rain.
Climbing up, tools in hand, he made his way up the tree. After he sat down, he forcefully planted some of his stones, along with his knife, into the tree. Stones decorated the bark like pendants, the knife akin to a hair out of place. The lifeless rabbit had been hanging in his grasp since he killed it. Flies had been trying to get a piece, but were whisked away once he was comfortable. As he let his legs dangle over the edge, he skillfully skinned the rabbit, his nails proving sufficient to remove the fur with a single, practiced tug.
Numerous starved nights sufficed to teach him that he needed to be cruel sometimes in order to survive. Struggling with the arms of the rabbit, he decided on cutting the skin and hide away from the flesh. Though he already had clothes, he opted to keep the fur, stuffing it down his shirt. He always preferred fish than rabbit, he thought it a cleaner, more delicate source of food.
As he eyed the meal on his lap, he hesitated before taking a bite. There was an extra fly in that bite, but he took it as extra food. The meat lacked much taste, just a mass of protein and blood. Although once eaten for long enough, he could make out a faint flavor—raw nature. Consumed by caution, he ate silently. He viewed hunting as something to be taken seriously.
There could be no explanation for the condition of his shack other than the people he saw. Soon, there was only bone left; the entrails had been tossed out prior to digestion.
Night soon descended, shrouded in translucent clouds and tidying rainfall. Stars struggled to pierce the veil, their brilliance muted. The moon claimed its position in the vast expanse, offering another promise of rest.
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The empty silence of the forest was interrupted. Firm, mushy footsteps grew close, accompanied by the sound of friction between stones. Strong legs, covered in what looked to be animal hide, supported a robust upper body that bore similar attire, though imbued with a darker hue. Around the waist, a flexible piece of hide served as a crude belt, holding the tools of their trade. The most prominent among them was a stone bludgeon, hewn from nature's own handiwork.
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Barefoot, the figure crushed insects beneath their feet, leaving behind a trail of imprints etched into the mud. The boy's own footprints lay embedded alongside them, quite a clear indication that someone had passed by. Unfortunately, today’s mud was unforgiving, leaving the boy’s prints firmly cemented.
It was midnight, and only those with keen vision would perceive the slight nuances in the indelible tracks. Intrigued, the figure followed the trail, their senses attuned to the silent scent of flesh in the air.
The disruptive footprints continued for quite a time. There were now two pairs racing into the horizon, like a disfigured bear walking a crooked path. A faint aroma of flesh wafted through the air, causing the figure to halt their steps. With a sniff, they turned their gaze upward. Though they found nothing, spare for the shadow-veiled sky. It was beginning to brighten in a whimsical manner, the sun struggling to break through the barrier of clouds.
As a slight illumination graced the sky, the figure continued on the boy’s trail. They stopped only a few strides away. Before a stable tree, the footsteps morphed into a jumbled mess before ending. The aroma was most dense here. It only took a moment for them to understand. As they looked upward, revealed was a picturesque, aquiline face with sharp eyes, thin brows and lips. They appeared to be female, and her long hair was restrained into an unkempt bun via a thin vine.
She observed a specific part of the tree where a leg hung down, a knife serving as a tree ornament. The remains of a rabbit dangled, while faint snores emanated from above.
Unaware of his surroundings, the boy tossed and turned, searching for comfort that eluded him. His previous vigilance had waned, lulled by an illusion of safety.
For a long moment, the woman observed the boy, her eyes analyzing his every feature. As her contemplation deepened, her gaze gradually lost focus as thoughts rushed through her mind. Soon, her dark brown eyes darkened, her resolve hardening. She’d made up her mind. A harsh gale blew through the forest, almost waking the boy. The woman’s clothes waved about, and strands of hair broke free of her bun. Retracting her gaze she looked ahead. As if what she’d just seen held no significance, she continued walking.
Her steps grew steady as she ventured deeper into the forest, leaving behind solitary footprints that overtook the boy's. Not once did she look back.
The sky was a uniform gray this morning, her shadow had yet the chance to form. The wind hadn’t let up as she walked, the distance between her and the boy growing wider. She grew calm, the sweat from her brown already dried by the wind. She reached a clearing; a place where numerous trees had been cut down to make space for a camp. Before entering, she decided to circle around. There were about seven huts put up around the area, and quite recently. In the center, there was a wide tent made up of thin logs and dried animal hide. It was expertly built considering the meager time used to construct it.
Cracking sounds poured out of the tent every few moments, but the woman hadn’t flinched as she approached. She directly entered.
Darkness enveloped her, but she could make out necessary details. In front of her, a sturdy frame was visible inside. Sitting on a tree stump, the figure was dressed in a similar way to the woman, with the only distinct difference being a dull feather stuck in their hair. Their face was considerably more masculine. He sat, his head downwards, his hand holding a stone which struck downward onto a blade-shaped stone weapon. It seemed he was refining it, chipping away at the material.
The cracking sound grew louder as she approached, bordering on ear piercing. She knew that he knew of her presence, but he ignored her. After a while, she grew irritated and shouted out with impatience, “Sir.” The cracking sounds only stopped after a while, the man pausing his actions.
He let out a frustrated breath while lifting his head. "Find anything?" the man's hoarse voice dripped with impatience, his gaze piercing as if attempting to unravel her thoughts.
"No. There was nothing," she responded, her tone devoid of emotion, a skill honed by experience. Her words offered no foothold for the man to latch onto.
With a forceful slam of his hand onto his knee, the man yelled, "Then why are you here? Keep searching!" The gritting of his teeth only managed to accelerate the woman’s heartbeat slightly. She was hardly intimidated.
“Ah, I’m sorry. I only wanted to inform you.” Swiftly, she made her leave. She was used to this vile attitude; her squad leader was ill-tempered and impatient at all times. Though she felt slightly pressured due to his position, she felt assured as he hadn’t pressed further. She was worried, but if the boy wasn’t awake by now, she couldn’t take any extra measures to ensure his safety. She’d done what she could. It was his fault if he were to remain oblivious to their pursuit.
Almost clear of the vicinity, she heard the man's intermittent shouts amid the cracks, "Why are you so far ahead? Did you abandon the others?"
Her back felt warm as she felt his scrutinizing gaze lingering on her back. She spoke after a pregnant pause, her voice surprisingly steady. “We were separated. They should return soon.” She continued to walk until covered sufficiently by the forestry, finally letting out a sigh.
“What am I doing?” she murmured. She should have just taken him, but she felt pity for the boy. Her “companions” had destroyed his hut, and he was left without a home. If he wouldn’t be found, where was the harm in letting him go? Besides, she couldn’t recognize him.
Her eyebrows furrowed unconsciously at this train of thought. She found it strange.