This time he came back to consciousness more slowly. The pain would have been excruciating if he hadn’t been draining it off, but he was hurt. Not mortally, but he needed food and rest badly.

Food! Was he about to become a meal? He unwrapped the vine and shakily sat up to take a look around. By the position of the sun he hadn’t been out that long, but it had definitely moved. Where was the spider leopard?

It was hard to look around, but he finally found it, on the forest floor. He’d chosen his final position with malice aforethought, and there’d been little in the way of low level branches to grab onto below his position. After missing its intended destination the spider leopard had plummeted to the ground below. It was a long drop.

Gingerly Gloe made the same trip in much smaller increments. Incredibly the beast was still alive. It was amazingly tough. That’s not to say it was unscathed though. Its rear limbs were crippled and it likely had suffered severe internal injuries. As long as it had control of those long lashing front limbs no scavenger was likely to approach though. A solid hit from one those was certain death. They’d just wait for it to die.

Now that it was crippled Gloe might have a chance though. He returned to the canopy and retrieved the longest rope from his pack. Finding a low-hanging branch that was near the fallen monster, albeit well off to one side, he threw the one end of the rope over it, then tied it off on a tree trunk.

Taking the other end, he cautiously walked a large circle around the spider leopard. It was wary and continually warned him off with roars and swipes, but maimed as it was charging was out of the question. He was careful not to get too close and the monster held off from moving in order to avoid aggravating its condition.

Once he had come full circle he tied off the rope on itself, creating a very large slip loop. The knot itself was as tight as he could make it, but the cinch contained several inches of clearance around the rope, allowing it to move freely. That done he returned to the other end.

Finding a convenient sapling he hacked away at it with his broken axe. Since it was failing the job took longer than it should have, but eventually he succeeded, creating what was in effect a large stake with deep roots. That done he rested for a few minutes, then began pulling on the rope, using the overhead branch as a crude pulley.

It was hard work with only one hand, so as he gained slack he looped it around the sapling trunk as tightly as he could. The rope circle constricted, drawing closer to the spider leopard. Gloe stopped to rest again. Then he resumed pulling.

The monster didn’t know what to make of the ring closing around it. It didn’t smell alive, but it was moving closer, so it could be a possible threat. As long as it remained safely out of reach the spider leopard continued to agitatedly monitor it without straining its crippled limbs. Good.

Gloe tightened the cordon but left himself a comfortable buffer. Once again he stopped to rest. He was not in good shape. “Okay.” He took a bit of the slack rope and formed it into a loop, grasping it tightly and pulling it over his shoulder. Then he made his move.

He screamed to try to draw the predator’s attention, and continued to make as many strange loud noises as possible. He wanted it looking at him, not the rope. He took off, hauling the rope behind him, pulling as hard and fast as he could.

Past the tree trunk. Around it. Friction began to slow the rope, but he continued to pull. Just a little farther. Finally he circled back around to the sapling and hooked the rope loop around it. He couldn’t tie it one-handed, but he pulled a bit more slack and looped the rope around the sapling a few more times. It would slip, but friction and angles would hold it there for a bit. Hopefully.

He took off running again, in the general direction of but not directly at the injured beast. Still screaming of course. He snuck a glance as he drew near. It looked like the improvised lasso was hooked around the monster. If it wasn’t this plan was probably going to end badly for him. No time to check though. As he passed the spider leopard he swerved closer, almost within reach, then continued to flee. Behind him he could hear the enraged predator lunging in pursuit.

There was a sudden startled grunt and the sound of something falling. He looked back, and grinned. The spider leopard had been too caught up in watching him and hadn’t noticed the rope wrapped around its lower body. It must not have felt anything through all the pain down there. When it had attacked it had pulled the trap tight using its own strength, and been jerked short.

Gloe looked down at the claw marks in the ground, and stepped forward. The spider leopard was angry and confused. It threw itself forward again. When the rope once again abruptly stopped its forward momentum Gloe took one more half-step forward and neatly inserted a knife into its right eye.

It fell to the ground, mewling and clawing at the wound. Gloe drew another knife, waiting for an opportune moment. When it came he put a knife in the other eye.

After that it was simple. Neither knife was long enough pierce the spider leopard’s brain, but crippled and blind it was hard-pressed to defend itself. Gloe got himself a big stick and hit it in the head until it died. Then he cut the rope off the tree trunk and used it to haul the carcass up to a branch. He wasn’t sharing his kill with anything if he could help it.

...

Lying back in his completely redone safety hammock, Gloe contemplated life. Especially how good it was to have it, and how quickly it could change. It certainly had for him.

The spider leopard’s corpse had provided the meat he needed to recover, even if only temporarily. He’d eaten and slept as much as he could, then vacated the area once the scavengers and predators became too persistent. It hadn’t been enough for him to recover completely by any means, but it had gotten him back on his feet.

After dramatically shifting position he’d begun construction of a new temporary home. His base concept had been sound, but it required substantial modification. His new hammock hung from a much higher branch, and had an emergency swing rope for quick escapes.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Given the apparent leap range of the average spider leopard there was no safe location from them, so he’d taken that into account. Rather than try to make the jump unappealing, he’d worked to make it difficult to complete. Carefully surveying his hammock from every nearby vantage point he’d searched for any identifiable launch and landing points.

Then he’d strung tightly tied vines across every vector he could think of. Some spider leopards saw the vines and balked at the strangeness of them. Others saw them as nothing more than ordinary vines. They had no experience with tool use.

The vines couldn’t stop the massive beasts of course, but impacting them in mid-air caused a substantial drop in forward momentum and change in direction. Some particularly agile monsters managed to recover anyway, but many were too shocked and confused to adjust in time. It was a very long drop.

That got Gloe a steady supply of spider leopard meat, at least at first. Before too long the scavengers got wise to the fact that monsters mysteriously fell out of the sky in that particularly location, and it became too dangerous for Gloe to venture down to the forest floor. Although they were not mainline predators they were still far too dangerous for him to face head-on.

Fortunately he had foreseen this possibility and engaged in a new occupation- strangle fishing. Instead of a hook he used a noose, and instead of a reel he used large rocks and makeshift pulleys. The spider leopard carcasses were his bait.

Most of his casts ended in failure, but unlike normal trapping he didn’t have to spend time traveling around to check, reset or repair them. Also, the supplies needed for strangle fishing were minimal, not much in the way of resupply runs required. So he had the time.

Some of the scavengers were extremely suspicious of the dangling ropes, but there wasn’t much they could do about it. If they became aggressive Gloe could simply pull the cord up out of their reach. If arboreal scavengers or predators took to the trees to come after him it was time to retreat to the hammock and take a nap. No matter how angry they might be none of them could afford to lie in wait for him for hours. They had to get on with the business of staying alive.

Even when a scavenger ignored the trap it didn’t always work. Sometimes they lashed out at the last second and clawed the rope apart. Sometimes the noose wouldn’t correctly settle and they were able to wiggle free. Sometimes they had the angle to bite or slash the rope apart as they were ascending.

If the rope got a solid hold and the rock dropped though, they were usually done. On the fortunate occasion that the noose had settled neatly around the throat the neck was broken almost instantly. If not the scavenger found itself hanging from a rope high up in the trees. Gloe would just slide partway down the rope and stab downwards with a spear until they were dead. It wasn’t the most exciting or efficient hunting method, but it was simple and cost-effective. Given how aggressive everything was here Gloe usually could make a kill or two a day, which was more than enough to feed him.

Not that it had all been smooth sailing. Occasionally a more dangerous animal would wander by and serene fishing would give way to fleeing for dear life. He’d lost three hammocks to batteraffes alone. Still, it had all more or less worked out. Weaving new ropes out of vines was time-consuming but simple.

With a surplus of food he was able to attempt a regeneration experiment. Closing his eyes, he contemplated his right hand. His body had grown it in the first place, albeit over a long period of time. His regeneration hyper-charged his body’s normal healing ability, speeding and improving it. This was done in part by pouring additional energy into the system. So hypothetically, was there any reason his body couldn’t use all this extra food to regrow his hand? He focused.

...

Winter had been brutal, what with the monsoons and temperature drops. The decreased sensory range had left predator and prey alike nervous and short-tempered, and Gloe had frequently taken the brunt of their wrath. He’d survived though, and things were now looking up.

Or at least they had been, until he started drawing energy from somewhere up in the sky. Someone was up there, and they were full of an emotion he hadn’t eaten since the last time he’d visited a larger city. Overweening arrogance. A sense of superiority that didn’t bode well at all.

Flitting as quietly and quickly as he could he made his way to his bolt-hole. It had been his first project once he had two hands again. It was an improved design of the improvised hiding spot he’d used while fleeing from redman. This time however he had taken the time to do it right.

The hatch blended in perfectly with the tree trunk, and from the outside it couldn’t be found unless you were looking for it. He also had heavily utilized masking scents as naturally as possible. Just inside was a second hatch, this one much thicker with a reinforced bar on the inside. The actual hole was still quite small, too claustrophobic for long-term use for normal people, but probably fine for him. There was some basic storage space for food and medical supplies. The part that had taken the longest was digging the second exit. He wasn’t going to be trapped again.

It wasn’t feasible for long-term hiding, as waste management would begin to become an issue. It was the best he could come up with for now though. Even if whoever was up there found his hammocks and such they’d probably get bored after a while if they found no other sign of him. That was the theory at least.

For now there was nothing to do but wait, and hope. At least the source of the emotion didn’t seem to be getting any closer, although it was sort of ominously hovering overhead. But perhaps that was just mis-perception. It was hard to tell where people were at all with his ability, especially if they were in the sky.

Everything else seemed normal. Quiet. Peaceful. No sign of anyone disturbing anything or searching. Kind of an odd smell though. He didn’t remember that from the last time he’d tested this place. What was that? Ozone? Ozone, that didn’t make any...

...

Gloe’s mind clawed its way back to consciousness, his brain flickering like an overloading light bulb. What the hell had just happened? He didn’t know where he was, or what was going on. Was that, was that the wind whistling? Where was this ridiculous breeze coming from? What was this wet soft thing he was lying on? How’d he end up outside his bolt-hole?

He struggled to open his eyes. He caught a brief glance of a figure sitting behind him. Cross-legged, in an ornate bathrobe. On a huge pile of sheep’s wool or something. Then the figure’s hand moved, and…

...

You weren’t supposed to reboot a computer during an already occurring reboot. Apparently brains worked the same way. At least, that’s what Gloe concluded when he could think straight in between worrying about the economic prospects of failed imaginary friends and smelling pickled hazelnut.

He recovered quickly though. In fact he could almost feel his brain-cells regenerating. Holy shit that was a lot of juice. It had been a long time since he’d had this much emotion to feed off of.

Sitting up, he began to survey his situation. He seemed more or less intact. His skin was blackened from some sort of burns, but it was healing nicely. He was in some sort of very dim room, full of the stench of unwashed bodies. As his eyes adjusted he began to suspect he was in a prison of some sort. Well that was unwelcome news. He must have been snatched by a warden or bounty hunter. Whoever it was, they had been ridiculously overpowered compared to him. Or something.

He restrained himself from doing a perimeter check. No sense in even worrying about trying to escape at the moment. Until he had some idea how he had been found and incapacitated so easily he couldn’t even begin to think up counter-measures. Fleeing without any hope of success would be foolish.

Instead he decided to make use of what he had available. There certainly was an awful lot of misery here. He rolled over and started doing push-ups.