The conversation continued with Liv and Samil speculating about the strength of their respective monstrous ancestors. Leif tuned them both out, not on purpose, he was simply too distracted by the most recent revelation.

Level fifty. It was so close, there was no way his goal would be so easily within reach. Right? He thought. Maybe he had suffered enough? Maybe this was the world’s way of apologising for his unfair treatment?

The thought was somewhat comforting. But a twinge in his soul told him that it couldn’t possibly be so easy. Something would go wrong, or there would be unexpected complications. His mind kept spinning as the night crawled on.

===

Marcus waddled over, more than a little tipsy. He started complaining about how: “Arcane formulas should just get along.” It seemed like nonsense and after a minute he was dragged away.

When Leif finally was in the state of mind to talk he asked more about awakening, but nobody really knew much more than the name. Samil suggested asking an awakened monster about it which wasn’t actually a terrible idea. If he knew where to find one, which Leif currently did not.

As the night went on the food ran out and the drinks quickly followed.

Several people began to drift away, some expedition members returning to their tents and the nomads back to their camp. He noticed several people slip away in pairs but didn’t bother to investigate.

It wasn’t his business. As long as they weren’t actively hurting each other or in danger he didn’t particularly care.

The cracked face of Season hung large in the sky as Leif returned to his animals. He paused, looking at a suspiciously shaped pile of hogs. His amber eyes narrowed as he beheld the seemingly self made pyramid.

Leif looked around for the deer. He wasn’t sure why, but he found the company of the two creatures who had been with him the longest comforting.

He couldn’t find them.

Uh oh.

Leif spent several minutes searching, only to discover a hoofed leg sticking out from under the pile of hogs. Leif let the slowly building tension leave his body and made his way to a mostly flat stretch of hill.

Level fifty…

He was close, or closer than he had been before his advancement. At level thirty two he was still a ways off. But it wouldn't be long, right?

Hera was strong, and she seemed young, only being a few years older than the Academy students.

Maybe there’s a way to level up quickly. He contemplated. Perhaps there’s a method or location that could grant large quantities of experience?

He thought over his possibilities, the burning desire for growth building up with every passing minute. Then it struck him.

Dungeons.

It was what the expedition had been searching for. Leif considered his options, a part of him wanted to get up and march into the wilderness. To rip and tear until he was level fifty. But was rushing truly a smart idea?

He tapped a golden set of fingers on the ground. Torn between a growing impatience and a desire for connection. He stood, then sat. Then he stood again and started to pace.

What can I do? What should I do? He thought. Linus and Adriana found a dungeon? But something happened and they had to leave? Is it accessible? Is it even nearby? And aren’t most dungeons underground?

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A group of hogs, members of the self made stack shuffled awake as he marched around. They trotted over to him one by one until he had a little group trailing behind his every step. Leif stopped and sighed.

He flopped down to the ground with his arms spread. Hogs piled on, nuzzling against him as they went back to sleep. Leif looked to the side as he lay, peeking through a gap between two sleeping animals.

He saw four skinny legs poking out of the now dismantled pile. Only four. Oh gods, where is the other deer?

===

It was the hunter, prowling through the night, unseen, unnoticed, a shadow flitting-

The deer tripped over a rope used to tie a tent in place. A short metal peg popped free from the rocky ground and the whole construct began to tilt sideways.

A predator, the most sneaky being to-

A pot crashed down from the crate the deer had bumped. The creature froze, ears twitching to see if the noise had awoken any of the tall ones.

Like a whisper in the dark, under to moon it slunk, nobody would sense-

Its foot became trapped as it accidently stepped into an empty mug. The animal flailed about as its balance became jeopardised. A minute later it had regained its footing and continued forward. The deer approached the now cooling embers of the night’s fire.

The smell of tasty things still hung in the air, the deer liked those. It sniffed around, overturning plates and searching sacks. It only nearly woke up the entire campsite three separate times. It found a platter of what had likely been used to prepare the evening’s meals.

It began to lick greedily at the meat juices, then it recoiled at the spicy pepper taste. It trotted around the camp with its tongue lulling from its mouth. Eyes watering it searched for more ‘prey’. It was unsuccessful.

At least in the area around the campfire.

The deer, apex predator that it was, tried to break into the nearest tent. It failed because the flap was tied shut. If it had hands the creature could have just reached under the loose gap and tugged on the dangling cord.

But it was neither capable, nor smart enough even if it was. It tried the next tent and to it, and the universe’s surprise actually got in. The tent was empty, which was odd. Normally there should be a person sleeping within.

Confusion was a general state of being for the deer so it mostly didn’t consider this oddity. It sniffed around, flinging loose clothing around and generally making a mess. No food though, disappointing.

It tried the next tent, but it was sealed shut. The muffled sounds coming from within were strange so the deer tried extra hard to get in. This attempt involved pushing its face into the tent flap as hard as it could, leaving a deep impression in the fabric.

Fortunately the tent’s occupants seemed to be distracted by something and didn’t notice.

It tried the next tent, nothing.

Then the next. Also nothing.

Somewhat peeved at its repeated failure to break and enter it moved to one of the outer tents. The flap was open. Success!

Without thinking, though that probably didn’t need to be mentioned, the creature eagerly darted inside. It was dark, the outside was somewhat illuminated due to Season’s crimson and white glow but within the tent the animal couldn’t see anything.

Or at least that should be the case. A dim glow emanated from the far side of the tent. And while the illumination wasn’t great it was just enough for the deer to make out a lying figure.

But even if its sight was mostly compromised it could smell and hear something. Breath stained with far too much drink, and soft snoring. The deer crept inside, kicking over a sheathed sword and spilling a waterskin onto a pile of clothes. Perfect entry.

The figure didn’t notice, despite its toes becoming damp after the deer gave them an experimental lick.

Salty.

It sniffed the air, there was something further inside. The deer’s tummy rumbled in anticipation as it snuck further inside. It accidentally stepped on the sleeping man’s leg but he just groaned and rolled over.

The scent of yummies became clearer. The deer sniffed again, sure enough they were near the human’s bald head. A sack, small and roughly pillow shaped, was being used as a headrest. Within were crunchy ration bars.

Yummy ration bars.

But the man’s face was directly where the sack’s opening was.

The deer stared blankly into the dim light, its single digit brain cells working overtime.

Showtime.