The new nest was on the ground. He thought he had moved far enough to the east and north to evade redman, but it was difficult to be certain what kind of search radius sky-running would give someone. So to be certain he had more or less abandoned the tree-tops except for emergencies.

This made life a lot more difficult, especially when it came to shelter. Gloe had slept in a variety of insecure improvised abodes until the new nest was ready for occupancy. Fortunately it had taken less than a week, because Gloe had discovered a forgotten mauler ocelot claw in his pouch.

Using it he had created a sort of pruning hook, which he had used to painstakingly hook gorebushes where the stem met the ground. Gorebush thorns were essentially omnipresent on the plants, making it almost impossible for animals or monsters to eat or reside in them. None of them were tool-users though. Gloe was able to slowly cut a small passage into the cluster of bushes, then bit by bit he extracted enough of the group’s interior to make room.

He couldn’t cut too high, so instead he dug just a bit into the earth. Rough planks kept him from accidentally bumping or rolling into the thorns, and after some thought he coated the entire exterior with tanned shadow mole hide, magically imbuing the whole thing with the tiny bit of their stealth that he comprehended. As a finishing touch he built a clever little door coated in a solid two feet of gorebush thorns. Anything that tried to open that without a tool was going to have a bad day.

It wasn’t much, but it was slightly bigger than a coffin at least, and it should be safe. Safe-ish. There were plenty of predators that could break in if they really wanted to, but most of them would not think the small amount of meat on his bones was worth the damage they would incur acquiring it. Smaller predators wouldn’t be able to break through at all, while the monstrosities that simply out-classed anything as mundane as thorns wouldn’t see something as small as him as prey. Hopefully.

Even knowing it was there Gloe couldn’t make it out from outside the bushes, so that would probably deter monsters too. There were still risks of course. He had to crawl to enter or exit, so a cunning creature might lie in wait. Alertness was going to have to be his watchword.

Storage was a problem too. As he started building up his supplies and tools again he had to find various places to cache them because there simply wasn’t enough room in the tiny room. Perhaps that was the best though. Placing all his eggs in one basket had increased his efficiency, but it had also allowed redman to cook them all at once.

...

Within two months Gloe felt like he was more or less back on track. He still didn’t have the tools and materials he had built up previously, but with experience he had been able to recreate quite a bit. In some cases he had even been able to make small improvements, but regardless most tools and traps had taken less time to piece together this iteration.

Hunting was proving a bit more difficult though. Not only was he spending less time high up in trees but he was trying to leave as little sign of his presence as possible. He was picking and choosing where to harvest wood or place traps, and that was reducing effectiveness. Big traps were more or less ruled out, which took a lot of the larger monsters off the menu. He was getting by on food, but supplies were somewhat meager, and he wasn’t leveling up at all.

That’s why he was so interested in the ruined traps he had started discovering recently. He had set them for shadow moles, but when he found them they were empty…and scorched. If there was a small creature out there with elemental abilities then he wanted it. If he could learn to imbue even basic fire magic into tools and traps it would open up a lot of possibilities.

So he had triangulated off of the burnt traps and staked out the area. He hadn’t replaced his old shadow mole-hide ghillie suit, but he had patched his own clothing as he was able to tan hides in ones and twos. A little magic was better than none, and he was taking a chance by lurking on low branches. If necessary he could flee in all three dimensions.

As expected, surveillance was boring. Extremely boring. But if there was anything he had, it was time. He wasn’t exactly well-off, but he had sufficient food reserves that he could afford to spend a few days at least.

It was mind-numbingly dull though. Monsters that Gloe didn’t need to fear tended to be skilled in camouflage and evasion, so he could only barely detect them, if at all. Monsters that didn’t need those skills Gloe himself had to hide from. Even when there was something around to watch he didn’t get to see much.

So whenever a rocky showed up it had his full attention. The rockies had hardened external carapaces that protected them from larger predators, but also made them too heavy to climb trees. On the ground they were somewhat fearsome, but he was perfectly safe from them where he was. The rockies were fun to watch, first of all, because they were something that wasn’t empty forest.

Also though, because they weren’t all that smart. They didn’t need to be. They were omnivores that lived off of vermin, scavenging and various fruits roots and berries. They sort of bumbled around the forest looking for food, accepting whatever came their way. If startled they just curled up and pretended to be a rock. It was only vaguely funny, but given the paucity of amusement in the general vicinity Gloe found it hilarious.

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

The one he had his eye on currently was stalking a crimson toad. Most creatures left crimson toads alone. Given their vivid coloration and general brazenness Gloe assumed they were extremely poisonous, venomous, or both. Even large predators would bypass them, so he’d never dared try to kill one up close. He could probably fight off normal poison, but if it was enough to scare off monstrosities it would be more than even he could handle. Not worth chancing.

Caution was almost unknown to rockies though. They could be frightened, but it wore off pretty quickly, and then they were back to wandering around sticking their noses into everything. Case in point, this one was sneaking up on the toad. Once within range it broke into a sudden rush, moving shockingly fast for a thing that looked like it was part stone.

The toad finally realized it was in danger and made a dash for safety, but it was too late. The rocky closed in and its powerful jaws snapped shut around the toad. Gloe was shocked when the latter suddenly burst into flame. Not as stunned as the now-burnt rocky mind you, but still quite surprised.

His condition only intensified when he spied a crimson toad scampering away to safety. What had that been? An illusion? That would be an exciting thing to learn. But no, the rocky seemed to be actually burnt. It was rolling around, rubbing its mouth on the ground and groaning in agony.

What then? He’d seen the toad bit nearly in half, but after the flash of flame he’d also seen it scurry away. There couldn’t have been two toads, could there? No, it didn’t seem likely. Their deep red showed clearly against the yellows and greens of the forest floor.

At the very least it seemed likely that crimson toad was the illusive fire-starter he’d been looking for. Hiding in plain sight, ignored because he’d thought they were like the poison frogs of the Amazon. He would have to remember this flawed assumption in the future. For the present though, it was time to go toad-hunting.

...

It turned out crimson toads were quite easy to kill. Since they apparently had no natural predators they were indolent and unwary, easy to catch off-guard. If he was careful Gloe could even get close enough to drop out of a tree and kill one with a club. Spears were even more effective, and if he’d been proficient with a sling or bow he probably could have slaughtered them in droves.

The problem was getting them to stay dead. Through trial and error he had been able to produce a rough sketch of what the crimson’s toad ability was, and it was quite impressive. And annoying. Under certain conditions (including but not limited to incurring severe bodily damage) the crimson toad could burst into flame. Not catch on fire, convert its entire body to fire. The blast only lasted for a second, then the energy reconverted to a material toad. Generally a much smaller one, but a specimen that was otherwise perfectly intact and functional. Given the new information Gloe had changed their ad hoc name to phoenix toad.

Phoenix toads just wouldn’t remain dead. The energy lost obviously affected them because they kept getting smaller and smaller, but otherwise they seemed nigh invincible. And Gloe had tested their resilience. Extensively.

He’d tried smashing them flat, impaling them and chopping them in half. Catching them unawares or while asleep. He’d rolled a giant boulder over one. He’d doused one with water, and submerged another with a very tricky drop trap. It turned out magical fire sneered at mundane water.

So this was the last thing he could think of, at least in terms of tactics he had the resources to actually attempt. For the last week or so he’d spent much of the daylight up in this tree, trying to lure a phoenix toad on top of the crude X he’d drawn in the dirt below. Results were not promising. He couldn’t really figure out what they liked to eat. They lackadaisically ate small bugs and plant bulbs, but they didn’t seem to have any special favorites. At least none that they would actively pursue.

Startling or chasing them into position wasn’t easy either, since he needed to stay up in this tree or else the whole thing was pointless. The damn things weren’t real skittish though, since nothing could do much more than temporarily inconvenience them. He’d been throwing sticks and stones to try to scare them in the right direction, but each toss only got a few feet of movement out of them, and he normally ran out before they were where he needed them.

This time he’d held his fire as long as possible, and his target had gradually wandered closer. Now it was almost directly below him, but he was down to his last four rocks. He reached back and threw one as hard as he could. Two feet. Another, for three feet. Yet another, almost straight down. There! He cut the rope and plummeted.

Not alone. The enormous flat rock he was standing on went first. It made quite an impression, but it didn’t spark anything. As he’d hoped, the flame ability had range limitations. The physical body could rematerialize, but only so far from the ignition point. His rock was at least ten feet across, and this particular type of magical fire apparently couldn’t move through solid matter. The toad was dead.

He took a breath in victory, and frowned slightly. That…was an incredibly complex aura. Far more so than those he had encountered thus far. It might take dozens or even hundreds of more kills to get a real grip on it. And would a partial understanding of the aura even be of any use? If the regeneration was inexorably tied to the rematerialization, and the fire was inseparable from the matter to energy conversion, then…

Well that was immensely frustrating. The rock had a thin crack running through it from impact, and it had taken him quite a long time to find one the right shape, to say nothing of the full day transporting it and rigging it in the tree had taken. There was no way he could afford to do that regularly. This whole venture had cost him most of his food and material reserves. He was going to have to work hard to build back up unless he wanted to imperil his ongoing survival.

Which meant this whole thing had been something of a bust. Sure he had discovered something extremely interesting and potentially useful, but he had basically no chance of capitalizing on it in the near future. What a waste.

Still. Despite the boredom, he’d gotten to see something new and fascinating. He smiled as he returned back to his daily grind.