The next few days passed quickly for the young man, wonder and discovery swiftly transitioning into routine. Wake up, get food, get water and go about your day. That wasn’t to say that he didn’t learn anything new. He did figure out that boiling his drinking water in the newly fired clay pots greatly reduced the risk of him experiencing agony again. Or that his |Resource Vision| Skill can discover other edible plants, such as the starchy roots and sweet-sour berries that he began eating alongside the mushrooms.
Not that much was discovered on the crafting side of things, though his shelters’ roof was now lined with moss and he introduced some weaved baskets to go along with his clay pots. Made carrying stuff that much easier.
His Levels benefited some as well, since his Tinker Class had reached Level 5 and his Gatherer Class was now at Level 6. One new Skill was all that he had to show for it, received from the latter Class.
|Rough Walker|
Quite self-descriptive really. He could now walk more easily through the forest, able to step on angled surfaces, rocks and the like without much fear of slipping or straining his ankle. He could still stumble, as he found out when he nearly fell into the river, yet the uneven terrain of the forest no longer bothered him as much.
Thought it would be false to say that he was not bothered.
“This is so annoying!” he said, peering through the bushes.
“Is she watching me now? Could she maybe… see through trees?”
He went back to weaving another basket.
“…stupid plant woman.” He muttered, before realizing he had just whispered that out loud.
Fear. Followed by annoyance. Followed by wariness.
The situation was clearly taking its mental toll on the young man.
He had managed to distract himself until then, by crafting, gathering things and generally napping. But it seems he had finally reached a breaking point.
“Oh, FUCK OFF! I know you’re out there! What do you want? I’m hungry! I haven’t eaten anything except plants for days. At least, talk to me! …Please?”
It should be said, that it was not the possible surveillance that truly bothered him. Nor was it his diet, meatless as it may have been. What truly bothered him was that after thinking himself truly alone, he had finally met another person. And that person promptly vanished, after insinuating it wanted nothing to do with him, except share a few meager words.
Thus, his loneliness evolved into a feeling greater than words could easily describe. A feeling cousin to despair.
“You suck! You and your forest! I don’t even break branches anymore and I’m careful not to step on anything! You could at least tell me your name, alright?” he continued to half-shout at the trees.
No one responded. He started to think that perhaps she wasn’t all knowing and that maybe she wasn’t always watching him. Certainly, he wished she didn’t during his more private moments. But he didn’t know.
He couldn’t know.
“Maybe she only comes when I hunt animals?” he asked himself, looking at his spear.
He did think about doing it again, but her warning and especially the look on her face when she had told him her warning, kept him from trying picking up his spear.
He looked around.
“Guess I could use more firewood.”
He started going towards the forest, looking for more things to gather. It was his go to activity, for when he was feeling down. Which was happening a lot, lately. Gathering stuff. Making things. It made him level and he had a faint hope that if he leveled enough, he would be able to somehow get out of his situation.
“Not likely, though. It’s not like I’m going to get a skill like Gather People, right?” he asked himself.
…
“Would be funny though.” he laughed.
Walking and talking to himself. What was life more than that?
It wasn’t long before he reached the mushroom spot again. Each day, every day, he came here. And each day, the mushrooms were here. It did seem like no matter how many he ate, more seemed to sprout up overnight. From what he could tell, if there was at least one mushroom left, more would start to appear around it. It was this very thought that would lead to his conclusion.
Well, this and his general annoyance.
“Wait… what am I doing? I have to come here every day to get mushrooms. Why, because it’s her forest?”
A small grin appeared on his face, while he looked down at the mushrooms.
“No. My forest.”
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After all, if he made all those grass weaved baskets, he may as well use them.
It took him five runs before he was satisfied. But he now had a nice little garden, full of newly planted mushrooms, a few feet away from his shelter. He would have built a nice fence as well, but he didn’t know how many more would appear while he slept.
“Better. Now what else can I bring here?”
It would have been false to say that he had forgotten his loneliness. Or that he no longer wanted to talk to the mysterious figure. But when the forest woman doesn’t come to the man, the man brings the forest to him.
“What else? The roots. And the berries!”
He spent the next hour planting the plants whose roots he found edible enough. He spent the next hours retrieving and planting a couple of berry bushes between his shelter and the mushroom patch. Apparently, uprooting and re-planting an entire bush, with nothing but a sharpened stick for help, makes for tiring work.
The sun had almost finished setting when he had finally finished and managed to start a fire.
“Now that was hard work.” He sighed, self-satisfied.
“If I could get the river to run through here, I wouldn’t even have to walk that much. I wonder if I could get fat eating only plants?” he asked, in amusement.
|New Class Available: Gardener|
|Class Level and Skills accessible after acceptance. |
|Accept new class? |
“A new Class? Just from that?”
“Well, I guess I got my first class from just picking stuff up. Hmm.”
He didn’t really want to be a gardener. His reasons for creating his ‘garden’ were basically laziness and a general desire to spite the forest lady. Growing things wasn’t really a concern when he could just as easily gather things.
“Eh, why not? Maybe I’ll get some good skills. Accept.”
|Class Accepted: Gardener|
|Class Level: 2|
|New Skills:|
|Basic Gardening|
|Resilient Seeds|
“|Basic Gardening|, huh?” he asked.
Unbidden, information on how to plants seeds, water plants, remove weeds and other small details came into his mind.
“Guess that’s pretty much normal at this point. And |Resilient Seeds|?”
He guessed that the Skill did exactly what the name mentioned. Make whatever seeds he had more resilient. Which was not really useful since the small garden he had made had not been based on seeds at all. Nor did he plan on starting to look around for other seeds to plant.
“This is so useless. Well, whatever, I’m going to sleep. Good night mushrooms!” he laughed and went to bed.
***
By the time the sun rose the next day, he was already up and about. He didn’t really consider himself a morning person, but mornings were generally chilly and light all around him did not make for a nice, continued sleep.
“So, I’m a Level 6 |Gatherer|, a Level 5 |Tinker| and Level 2 |Gardener|. And I’m still on my own, in a forest. With only a tree lady around, one who refuses to show herself. Won-der-ful.”
Looking around, he saw his newly made garden. The root plants and the berry bushed looked pretty much the same. The mushrooms didn’t.
“Wow. So that’s how they never die out.”
If the day before he had managed to plant around twenty mushrooms, he now had over fifty, if his counting was any good.
“At this rate, they’ll cover the entire clearing. Hmm. I wonder why they didn’t cover the entire forest? I guess something is eating them as well. Like those untouchable birds.” He scowled.
“Well, no matter. More for me.”
It only took a few moments before he had a couple of baskets full to the brim with the desiccated mushrooms, stored next to his shelter. It should be said that while the mushrooms exploding did still hurt him, his |Thick Skin| Skill made it merely an annoyance.
Stomach grumbling, he looked at the dried mushrooms again. Then at the berries. Then at the mushrooms again.
“I cannot keep eating this. At least, not just this.” He said, looking down at himself.
It was true, for all that he was eating, he was getting slightly thinner. And his hands now had a slight reddish tint to them, that water seemingly failed to wash off.
Water.
“I can’t hunt birds. Or any other animals. But are fish animals?” he asked himself.
He hadn’t seen any fish, but where there was a river, there should be fish.
He didn’t have a fishing rod or line and his crafting skill was telling him it would be a hassle to make. Not a big one, but not one he had patience for either.
What he did have was a spear.
“I can spear fish. …If there’re any there. I know I can do that.”
“But are fish animals?”
Fear and hunger warred internally, until hunger won out. As it mostly does.
“I guess I’ll find out.”
He made his way to the stream, looking over his shoulder the entire time. When he did reach it, he was almost reluctant to look for any fish. Yet the imaginary taste of fish pushed him forward. Not that he knew what fish tasted like. But he could bet it tasted good.
“C’mon.” he whispered, trying to get his |Resource Vision| Skill to work.
“Find me fish. Fish!”
And like a charm, it did. If before there was only normal water around, now he could see shapes swimming in it. Blurry at first, but he concentrated until there were clearly visible.
“Yes!” he laughed.
Standing on the shore, he prepared his spear. Slowly, he raised it. Anxiety that he would miss and scare away the fishes was staying his hand. But just as much as anxiety, it was the fear of the forest woman that made him hesitate. He looked around a final time and seeing and hearing nothing, he went for it.
One fast throw.
“YES!” he shouted, not being able to help himself.
The spear went through the fish, nailing it to the river bottom. The young man wasted to time in retrieving it and the fish, before coming back to the shore.
“Well, that was easy.” He said looking around again.
“And no green lady. I guess fishes aren’t animals after all. Whew.”
The sudden rush of excitement had passed, leaving him a little winded. Now winded enough to stop, however.
“I wonder how many more I could get.”
The answer was four. He caught four more fish before the continued disturbance in the water scared all other prey away. But four was enough. For someone who had survived on roots and mushrooms for the last few days, even a single fish was a feast.
The young man wasted no time in getting back to his clearing with a basket full of fish.
He got a fire going fast. A sharp rock was used to gut the fish and clear out the entrails. A sharp stick was poked through the fish and when all was said and done, he sat back, his lunch cooking over the fire, not a care in the world.
Which was the perfect time for the bushes to rustle.
“What?”
Silence.
“You’re joking! But… but you didn’t stop me when I caught them!” he yelled.
No sound came from the bushes.
Fish forgotten on the grass, the young man stood up.
“Is this funny to you? Torturing me? If I wasn’t allowed to eat fish, why did you let me catch them in the first place? Why did you wait until I came back to cook them?”
His fear of the woman was quickly overshadowed by the mounting fury of being toyed with, of his hunger and of being so very lonely, in this new world, with no one but a mysterious stranger, who refused to even talk to him, as company.
“I know you’re out there! I know you’ve been watching me!” he yelled and grabbed his spear.
“Come out or I will throw this at you! Come out and TALK TO ME!”
She did come out.
But she wasn’t green.