Adolescent Kobold

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(pretend there's nothing here, I gave up on actually trying to force set a size with so many different methods)

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The near empty display hung there, even after Jack swiped at it, hoping it would disappear. Losing his balance, he found himself on the ground, a crude chuckle escaping the vocal cords he wasn’t used to, a more harsh cough. If it wasn’t his reflection, the status screen confirmed his misery, with it so empty he didn’t even know if he would be afforded the same luxury as so many others he had followed. Would he even be allowed to level up, Let alone gain stats? Almost as fast as he lost himself in thought he interrupted, just beyond the border of trees that surrounded the lake, off to his right, now left as he turned, a twig snapped.

Lowering himself, though unhelpful, made him feel less visible, though there wasn’t anything within line of sight anyway for him to hide from at the moment. Though only a short moment later, a deer-like creature darted out almost directly ahead of him, startling him, the already frightened creature darted off to Jack's right, trying to escape something. In his surprise, Jack managed to launch himself, from a laid down position, backwards just enough to throw himself into the water, and although loudly, he was now much better concealed from the now encroaching hunter.

Dressed in green cloth, with hand made spattering of other green dyes, ranging from lighter to darker than the major green that blanketed the hunter, interrupted by woody brown pieces of leather, providing sparse light armoring for the hunter. Along with her hand made attire, a spear sat in her hand, along one side of the blade a hooked protrusion stuck out from it. Likely in an attempt to keep the blade stuck in whatever it struck, furthering any wound it was bound to make.

When the hunter had traveled half the short distance between the lake, slowly making her way closer to Jack, unaware of his presence, still trying to track the deer as it fled away from her hapless mistake. With her curved approach nearing, he was glad when she finally stopped, straightening herself from her slightly crouched stance,

< “Damn it.” >

Though Jack did not have knowledge on the language she spoke, her mannerism while she said it explained it enough, making a mental note he would in fact need to learn a new language, he sighed internally. He was not excited that he wouldn’t just be handed everything he would ever need or want at his whim. With that thought behind him, he watched, as the hunter continued their ignorance of him, though managing to maintain a distance where he wouldn’t be spotted immediately, without him having to move, luckily. He still thought it best that being spotted here wouldn’t suit him any better, so maintained his stillness as best he could.

Jack wasn’t gifted in fighting, his only two testaments to his combat prowess being his two weeks of karate when he was 8 or 9, and the self-defense segment high school PE had taught him. Though to hamper on that, the wrestling segment had been an embarrassment for him, there was only one other student in his weight class, and the other student was on the school's wrestling team. Safe to say, he only learned how to lose, a skill he didn’t think would be all that useful in a life or death fight with someone with far superior strength, or reach.

The hunter finally approached the lake, filling her water skin, followed by it glowing for a moment, and after so, she took a sip from it, wincing. Jack wasn’t sure why she winced, but he could realize the use of magic, more baffled at such an item having an enchantment, or magic what have you cast on it. What Jack hadn’t realized however, even when he saw his reflection, was how murky the water was, him diving into it had not helped.

With her thirst sated, with however unsanitary the lake’s water, partially cleaned by the water skin’s enchantment magic. The hunter turned about, and wandered back into the forest the way she had come, though less cautiously than she had come, as she wasn’t tracking any prey to hunt. Alone again, Jack brought himself out of the water, the immediate tension of the prior situation dissipating, allowing Jack to realize he had not eaten or drank anything in however long it had been. Unsure himself, he learned of the hunter’s displeasure with the lake water. Though it contained no salt, and did not outright reek of anything by smell, the water itself was foul to Jack's fragile pallet.

Jack had no alternative, nor any real way to clean the water at hand, nor did he know of any. Oddly enough, however, his gut instinct hadn’t forced him to spit the water, rather before he even could, he had swallowed. Having seen the repercussions of the lack of caution first hand, as on a school camping trip a student had drunk unfiltered water against the advice of the guide, needed to be removed via helicopter later that same evening. Jack could only hope that he wouldn’t follow suit, not like he could anyway, as there would be no rescue if such a case were to happen to jack.

Already disheartened by such a future plaguing him, Jack turned to his hunger, Jack had already been camping before as the previous thought had reminded him. Yet he had never subsisted off the land as he was now forced to, following the hunter was already a lost cause. He was already full of doubt he would be recognized as a sentient being and not a feral monster out for the life of every living being. The thought did not help, as the hunter had quickly disappeared beyond the trees before he could even grasp the true direction of where she was headed.

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Jack also knew himself uneducated with regard to hunting, he had, in fact, never bothered to read anything with regard to hunting, or trapping. He had left the one book with that knowledge in his possession unread. Sitting at home, in a cardboard box he had not bothered to open since he had moved. He could vaguely recall the diagram of a hunting snare when he had first skimmed through the beginning of the book. But that time had so long passed, it was more akin to a crude sketch of a memory than anything clear.

As Jack pondered his memories, he found nothing concretely useful, he felt his gut unhelpful, only telling him to go into the forest. Jack wasn’t even sure he would have the means to find himself back at the lake, let alone hunt with his bare hand with no strategy. Yet, as dumb as it was, he followed it, wandering into the forest as a fool would, meandering between the trees. Jack wasn’t without any wit, however, with regard to hunting, he was sure of one thing, without knowledge of his strengths, he knew it was better to hunt creatures smaller than him.

Long after he had started, without a doubt, anyone who would have spotted him, if there even was anyone else out there to spot him, would doubt he was trying to hunt. The birds, though different from his recollection of his time on earth, would alert most of the forest to his presence as he unconsciously navigated, or rather lost his way, through the forest. Only a few animals in the forest were careless enough to not listen to the forest’s natural warning system, or were ignorant of it. Jack was eying such a strange creature, with the head of a boar, and few other parts, the rest bearing a strange resemblance to a rabbit. Jack was more bewildered by such a design, as if out of some monster game, then something that should exist.

Its method of movement was all too strange, following its form, it would hop haphazardly around, occasionally crashing into a tree or rock, with a resounding thunk, though the bounding boar would rarely give way. Only the mature trees of the forest would stand scattered by the boar’s strikes, the young saplings folded under the boar's weight. Even smaller boulders gave way after a few strikes, shattering into jagged stone. With such a way about itself, Jack was unsure he could even take such a ridiculous thing on, even if it was half his size it had already toppled near everything in its way.

Jack’s only reprimand was that nothing else seemed even willing to go near such a creature, despite its rather disruptive behavior, and lack of awareness. Jack was ignorant of what it could mean, lowering himself, hoping he could manage to get even a little closer without being spotted. He was no hunter, he had no talent in stalking prey, nor was he gifted in moving silently. Jack was unaware he had already spotted the boar, more than once even, despite the boar’s lack of decent vision, Jack had fumbled upon himself so many times it would be laughable if it didn’t. Yet the boar didn’t care, Jack was just another thing for it to smash into.

When Jack was finally in range, he found his vision obscured, the full weight of the boar slamming into him, no time to bring his hands down onto the beast he found himself giving way to the beast. Nearly flying back, as he tumbled several feet, his chest radiated heated pain, gasping for air, he looked up at what almost looked like a smug grin across the boar’s face. Not even giving himself time to recover, Jack threw himself at the boar, somehow displaying Herculean strength for the small kobold, picking it up. Jack brought the small boar down onto his own mess, slamming it into the jagged rocks it had made, ending the small creature.

Jack had amazed himself, or at least for the moment, as he watched the boar’s corpse, the adrenaline in his system finally dissipating. Amplifying the pain that had radiated through his chest, flowing then to his arms and legs, having over exerted himself. Setting himself down onto the ground, he stared at his prize, unsure of how to approach gathering what he intended to claim.

A dumb idea had struck him, picking up a piece of the broken stone, he began working on the corpse, having no idea what he was doing. He kept himself to the limbs of the creature, carving off a haphazard meat club, followed by another, each roughly seasoned by the ground, and jagged stone he had used to carve them, he was happy with his progress. Though, he had no intention of repeating such a blunder.

Seeing as the boar had already prepared both stick and stone, through crude means, and of crude quality, Jack at least knew what a spear was, though he wasn’t capable of making a true spear from what he had. He took the stone he had used to carve the boar, and one of the straighter saplings the boar had toppled. Tearing off, and using the fresh, flexible branches to tie the stone to the end of the now short spear in Jack’s hand. It looked like it would fall apart any minute, but if it could bring ease to his next outing, it would do. Taking the boar leg clubs, and crude short spear, Jack wandered back the way he came.

With no markings, and no visible landmarks, the first stars were teasing their way into the sky, Jack could no longer see the sun, only its effects on the sky by the time he arrived at the lakeside. His legs all the more sore from carrying himself back, Jack had no means of heat, or light to cook the legs he had brought with him. That didn’t stop Jack from tearing into the first leg, disregarding the thought of even cooking it, the smell of the uncooked meat had permeated his nose his whole walk back. He couldn’t hold back his hunger as he tore into the leg, he had cleaned it to the bone, leaving himself the other as a morning meal.