As the sun began its inexorable descent towards the horizon, painting the sky in a breathtaking array of oranges and pinks, Ethan found himself no closer to finding any signs of civilization. Despite hours of trekking through the dense forest, his keen eyes scanning the undergrowth for any hint of human presence, he had come up empty-handed.

"No discarded bottles, no airplane contrails, not even a distant hint of smoke from a campfire," Ethan muttered, his voice tinged with a growing sense of unease. "It's like I'm the only person in this entire forest."

The realization sent a chill down his spine, and he couldn't help but shudder as the weight of his isolation settled upon his shoulders. "I don't understand," he whispered, his gaze drifting skyward as if searching for answers in the deepening hues of the evening sky. "How can there be no sign of human life out here? It's like I've stumbled into a world untouched by man."

As he continued his trek, Ethan's eyes scanned the horizon, desperately searching for any familiar landmarks that might help him pinpoint his location. "No Mount Rainier, no Mount Hood, not even a glimpse of the Olympic Mountains," he lamented, his heart sinking with each passing moment. "Could I be somewhere else entirely? Maybe Eurasia?"

The thought sent a wave of despair crashing over him, and he had to fight back the urge to succumb to the hopelessness that threatened to engulf him. "No, that can't be right," he argued, shaking his head as if to dispel the notion. "There aren't any forests this vast and untouched in Eurasia, at least not that I know of."

As the last vestiges of daylight faded, giving way to the inky darkness of night, Ethan felt a renewed sense of urgency wash over him. His tattered clothing, which had been gradually disintegrating with each passing hour, now hung in ragged strips from his body, offering little protection against the chill of the evening air. Even his once-sturdy hiking boots had succumbed to the strange forces that had brought him here, leaving him barefoot and vulnerable.

"I can't risk traveling at night," Ethan reasoned, his voice a low murmur in the stillness of the forest. "Without proper gear or any idea of what kind of wildlife might be lurking in the shadows, it's a gamble I can't afford to take."

His mind flashed to the signs of boar-like tracks he had spotted earlier in the day, and he shuddered at the thought of encountering one of the tusked beasts in the darkness. "No, I need to find a place to make camp," he decided, his gaze scanning the surrounding trees for a suitable spot. "Somewhere defensible, where I can rest and regroup before continuing my search in the morning."

With a heavy sigh, Ethan slipped his backpack from his shoulders, wincing as the charred fabric crumbled beneath his touch. "Looks like this is barely going to hold together," he muttered, carefully setting the pack on the ground. "I'll have to be careful with what supplies I have left."

As Ethan carefully sorted through the contents of his charred backpack, as he took out the equipment he needed: His hatchet, firestarting kit

With his essential tools now accounted for, Ethan knew it was time to find a suitable spot to set up camp for the night. He scanned his surroundings, his keen eyes searching for a location that offered both shelter and access to the resources he would need to survive.

After several minutes of careful consideration, Ethan settled on a small clearing nestled between two towering evergreens. The thick trunks of the trees provided a natural windbreak, and the relatively flat ground would make it easier to construct a shelter and start a fire.

"This looks like as good a spot as any," Ethan said, his voice echoing through the silent forest. "Time to get to work."

With his hatchet in hand, Ethan set about gathering firewood, his eyes scanning the forest floor for fallen branches and logs that would burn cleanly and efficiently. He moved methodically, choosing only the driest, most seasoned wood he could find, knowing that green or damp wood would produce more smoke than heat.

As he worked, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, his senses heightened by the unfamiliar surroundings and the eerie stillness of the forest. Every snap of a twig or rustle of leaves caused him to pause, his muscles tensing as he scanned the shadows for any sign of danger.

"Keep it together, Ethan," he muttered, shaking his head to clear his mind. "You're just jumpy because you're in a strange place. Focus on the task at hand, and worry about the rest later."

With a sizable pile of firewood now stacked near his chosen campsite, Ethan turned his attention to constructing a shelter. He had decided on a simple lean-to design, using the two large evergreens as natural support beams.

Ethan, having found the perfect spot nestled between two sturdy evergreen trees, set about constructing his lean-to shelter.

Ethan searched the area around the two evergreens for fallen branches and saplings that would serve as the main components of his shelter. He looked for sturdy, straight branches ranging from 6 (1.8m) to 10 feet (3m) in length for the frame and smaller, more flexible branches and saplings for the roof and walls.

To create the lean-to frame, Ethan selected two of the sturdiest branches, each about 8 feet (2.4m) long. He used his hatchet to remove any twigs or leaves and to sharpen one end of each branch into a point. These would serve as the main support beams for the shelter.

Ethan drove the sharpened ends of the two main support branches into the ground at a 45-degree angle, leaning them against the trunk of one of the evergreens. He made sure the branches were securely embedded in the soil and that the angle was steep enough to allow water to run off the roof.

To connect the two main support branches, Ethan lashed a long, straight branch horizontally between them, creating a ridgepole. He used strips of bark or cordage from his survival kit to securely tie the ridgepole to the support branches.

With the frame in place, Ethan began adding smaller branches and saplings perpendicular to the ridgepole, spacing them evenly to create a lattice-like structure. He made sure to overlap the branches, starting from the bottom and working his way up, to ensure a waterproof roof.

To further waterproof the roof, Ethan gathered an assortment of leafy branches, boughs, and grasses. He layered these materials over the roof lattice, starting from the bottom and working his way up, creating a thick, overlapping thatch that would shed water effectively.

For added protection from the wind and rain, Ethan chose to create walls for his lean-to. He gathered more branches and saplings and leaned them against the sides of the frame, leaving an opening at the front for easy access. He then wove smaller branches and grasses between the wall supports to create a more solid barrier.

Finally, Ethan gathered a thick layer of dry leaves, grass, and soft pine needles to create a comfortable floor inside the lean-to. This insulating layer would help keep him warm and provide a relatively soft surface to sleep on.

With his shelter complete, Ethan stepped back to admire his handiwork. The sturdy lean-to would provide him with a safe, dry place to rest and regroup as he planned his next move in this unfamiliar wilderness. The skills his father had taught him during their numerous camping trips had proven invaluable, and Ethan silently thanked the old man for his wisdom and foresight… that is what inspired him to be a true "survivor."

"Looks like all those weekends spent in the woods are finally paying off," Ethan chuckled, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "It's not the Ritz, but it'll keep the rain off my head and the wind off my back. Thanks, Dad…"

With his shelter complete, Ethan knew it was time to focus on starting a fire as soon as possible, as the night almost engulfed him completely. He cleared a small area in front of the lean-to, using the blade of his hatchet to scrape away any dry leaves or grass that could catch fire and spread.

Kneeling beside the cleared space, Ethan pulled out his fire starter kit and set to work. He arranged a small pile of tinder in the center of the firepit, then struck his flint and steel together, sending a shower of sparks raining down onto the dry material.

At first, the sparks failed to catch, and Ethan felt a surge of frustration wash over him. But he persisted, striking the flint again and again until finally, a tiny wisp of smoke began to rise from the tinder.

Ethan leaned in close, his breath soft and steady as he gently blew on the smoldering tinder, coaxing the tiny ember to life. Slowly, the smoke began to thicken, and a small flame flickered to life, dancing among the dry grasses and leaves.

With a triumphant grin, Ethan carefully added small twigs and branches to the growing fire, gradually building it up until it was crackling merrily, casting a warm, silver glow across the makeshift campsite.

As he settled in beside the fire, Ethan felt a small measure of comfort wash over him. The heat of the flames chased away the chill of the night air, and the flickering light provided a sense of security in the darkness.

But even as he reveled in the small victory of creating a shelter and fire, Ethan couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled deep in his gut. The strange circumstances that had brought him to this place weighed heavily on his mind, and the absence of his faithful companion, Liam, left a hollow ache in his chest.

His thoughts drifted to his current state of undress. The lightning strike had left his clothes in tatters, with only his slightly charred boxer shorts and a tattered remnant of his t-shirt clinging to his body. While the fire provided some warmth, he knew that he would need more substantial protection against the cold, especially if he found himself in this predicament for an extended period.

"I can't go traipsing through the wilderness looking like Tarzan," Ethan mused, glancing down at his bare legs and torso. "If I do stumble across civilization, I'd rather not be hauled off to jail for indecent exposure."

With a sigh, Ethan heaved himself to his feet and began to survey his surroundings, his keen eyes searching for anything that might serve as makeshift clothing. As a seasoned survival expert, he knew that the key to staying alive in the wild was to be resourceful and adaptable, using whatever materials the environment provided.

Ethan scanned his surroundings, his eyes landing on a stand of tall, slender cedar trees. The fibrous bark sparked an idea in his mind. "Cedar bark," he mused, "perfect for making a basic loincloth and maybe even a crude cloak."

He approached one of the trees and used his hatchet to carefully make a vertical cut in the bark, about 6 feet long. Starting at the bottom of the cut, he slid his fingers under the bark and began to peel it away from the tree in a long, continuous strip. Ethan made sure to keep the strip as even as possible, about 4 inches (10 cm) wide.

Once he had a strip of sufficient length, Ethan laid it on a flat surface and used his hatchet to carefully scrape away the rough outer layer of the bark, revealing the softer, more pliable inner fibers. He then used his multi-tool to cut the strip into two equal lengths, each about 3 feet long.

To create the loincloth, Ethan took one of the strips and folded it in half lengthwise. He then made small slits, about an inch long, at the folded end and near the corners of the open end. Threading the open end through the slits at the folded end, he created a basic loincloth shape.

Ethan tied the corners of the open end together, creating a secure fit around his waist. He adjusted the length of the loincloth by trimming any excess material with his multi-tool.

For added protection, Ethan decided to create a simple cloak using the second strip of cedar bark. He made a small hole in the center of the strip using his multi-tool and carefully widened it just enough to fit his head through.

Draping the cloak over his shoulders, Ethan used some of the excess cedar bark fibers to create a simple tie at the neck, securing the cloak in place. The rough, pliable material provided a welcome layer of warmth and coverage.

As Ethan adjusted his improvised cedar bark clothing, his mind wandered to the countless survival skills he had accumulated over the years. These experiences had not only prepared him for this unexpected challenge but had also played a significant role in shaping his identity and fueling his desire to stand out from the crowd.

From a young age, Ethan had always been driven by a deep-seated need to be noticed and admired. This innate desire had led him to pursue a degree in Mechanical Engineering, a field he believed would showcase his intelligence and problem-solving abilities. However, as he neared graduation, Ethan realized that he yearned for something more – a way to combine his technical knowledge with his passion for adventure and his craving for the spotlight.

It was during a chance encounter with a successful YouTuber that Ethan discovered the potential of social media to catapult him to fame. Inspired by the idea of sharing his experiences with a global audience, he began to delve into the world of survival training. From crafting clothing out of natural materials in the heart of the Congo to building waterproof shelters in the rugged Tasmanian rainforest, Ethan threw himself into mastering every skill he could.

Each new challenge became an opportunity to showcase his growing expertise, and Ethan made sure to document every step of his journey. He invested in high-quality camera gear and spent countless hours editing his footage, carefully curating his image as a charismatic and knowledgeable survival expert.

As his channel grew, Ethan reveled in the attention and adoration of his expanding fan base. Every like, comment, and share was a validation of his efforts and a testament to his unique abilities. He interacted with his followers, offering tips and answering questions, always aware of the importance of maintaining his hard-earned reputation.

Three years of dedicated effort and unwavering commitment had transformed Ethan from an aspiring engineer into a bona fide celebrity in the world of survival and outdoor adventure. With over 9 million subscribers and millions of views on each video, he had achieved the fame and recognition he had always craved.

Now, as he stood in the middle of nowhere, Ethan couldn't help but appreciate the irony of his situation. All of his training and expertise had led him to this moment, where he was forced to rely on his skills not for views or likes, but for his own survival. Yet, even in this dire circumstance, a small part of him couldn't help but wonder how this experience would translate to his next video… it would be a banger though.

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"Never thought I'd be putting these skills to the test quite like this," Ethan chuckled, making final adjustments to his cedar bark ensemble. "But that's the beauty of survival training - you never know when it might come in handy."

As Ethan chuckled at the irony of his situation, his stomach let out a loud, insistent grumble. The exertion of crafting his makeshift clothing and the stress of his unexpected predicament had left him feeling drained and famished. He knew that if he wanted to maintain his strength and focus for the challenges ahead, he would need to eat something soon.

Reaching for his backpack, Ethan rummaged through its contents until his fingers closed around a familiar cylindrical shape, a can of beans.

Using his multi-tool, Ethan carefully pried open the can, the sharp edge of the blade making short work of the metal lid. The aroma of the beans wafted up to his nostrils, making his mouth water and his stomach grumble even more insistently.

Ethan settled down beside the fire, the warmth of the flames casting a comforting glow on his face. He tilted the can to his lips, savoring the first mouthful of the savory, protein-rich beans. As he chewed, he could feel his energy levels slowly beginning to rise, the food providing a much-needed boost to his flagging reserves.

Just as he was about to settle back and enjoy another mouthful of beans, a distant sound caught Ethan's attention, causing him to freeze mid-bite. It was a guttural, primal cry, unlike anything he had heard before in this strange forest. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as he strained to listen, his heart pounding in his chest.

"What the hell was that?" Ethan whispered, lowering the can of beans and scanning the treeline for any sign of movement. The cry had sounded almost like an animal in distress, but there was something about it that felt off, something that made his skin crawl with unease.

Ethan set the can down beside the fire, his appetite suddenly forgotten as he focused all of his attention on the surrounding forest. He strained his ears, trying to catch any further sounds that might offer a clue to the creature's identity. But the night had fallen silent once more, the only noise the crackling of the flames and the distant hooting of an owl.

"It almost sounded like... no, it couldn't be," Ethan muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. The cry had been too guttural, too primal to belong to any animal he recognized from his travels. But what else could it be? In this strange, uncharted wilderness, anything seemed possible… but even though.

"That's impossible," Ethan muttered, shaking his head in disbelief. "Gorillas in the Pacific Northwest? It doesn't make any sense."

As he stood there, listening intently for any further signs of the mysterious creature, Ethan couldn't help but feel a sense of unease wash over him. The strange lightning storm that had brought him here, the absence of any signs of civilization, and now these haunting, otherworldly cries - it all added up to a mystery that he couldn't begin to unravel.

"What have I gotten myself into?" Ethan wondered aloud, his gaze drifting skyward as if searching for answers in the star-strewn heavens. "And more importantly, how the hell am I going to get myself out of it?"

With a heavy sigh, Ethan settled back down beside the fire, his makeshift clothing providing a small measure of comfort against the chill of the night. He knew that the journey ahead would be fraught with challenges and uncertainties, but he also knew that he had the skills and the determination to see it through.

He strained his ears, trying to catch any further sounds that might offer a clue to the creature's identity. Suddenly, the snap of a twig and the rustle of underbrush jolted him to attention. Footsteps, fast and light, were approaching his location at an alarming speed.

Ethan's heart pounded in his chest as he realized the implications of the sound. The footfalls were too rapid and too delicate to belong to any of the large predators he had encountered in his travels. In fact, they sounded almost... human. But how could that be? He was miles from any known civilization, lost in a wilderness that seemed untouched by man.

Instinctively, Ethan reached for his hatchet, his grip tightening around the worn wooden handle. He rose to his feet, his muscles tensed and ready for action. Years of survival training and encounters with wildlife had honed his reflexes and sharpened his senses, and even if this was a human, at least he could at least be at ease and ask some questions and receive some needed answers.

As the footsteps grew closer, Ethan's mind raced through the possibilities. A desperate, starving animal might be drawn to the warmth and light of his fire, but most creatures had a natural fear of the flickering flames. No, this was something different - something that moved with purpose and intelligence.

Ethan's eyes darted to the edges of the firelight, searching for any sign of movement in the shadows. The footsteps were almost upon him now, the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves growing louder with each passing second. He braced himself, his heart hammering against his ribs as he prepared for the worst.

Suddenly, the footsteps stopped, plunging the forest into an eerie silence. Ethan held his breath, his grip on the hatchet so tight that his knuckles turned white. He strained his eyes, trying to pierce the darkness beyond the reach of the firelight.

A shadowy figure burst from the undergrowth, leaping towards Ethan with surprising agility. In a blur of motion, the mysterious intruder tackled Ethan to the ground, sending his hatchet flying from his grasp. Ethan's breath was knocked from his lungs as he hit the earth, his mind reeling with shock and confusion.

As he struggled to regain his bearings, Ethan found himself face-to-face with his attacker. To his astonishment, it was not an animal, but a human – a man with a wild, untamed appearance, his skin adorned with intricate tattoos that seemed to dance in the flickering light of the campfire.

"HUMAN!" the man exclaimed, his voice rough and guttural, yet tinged with an unmistakable note of excitement. Ethan blinked, his mind struggling to process the bizarre turn of events. The man's primitive appearance and unfamiliar language were unlike anything he had encountered in his travels.

As Ethan's gaze roamed over the stranger's face and arms, he couldn't help but be drawn to the intricate tattoos that adorned his skin. On the man's arm, a striking image of a water basin caught Ethan's eye, the bold lines and curves reminiscent of the ancient Maori tattoos he had seen in his studies. The design seemed to hold a special significance, though Ethan could only guess at its true meaning.

The tattoos on the man's face were equally mesmerizing, a complex pattern of lines and shapes that seemed to tell a story of their own. The intricate designs around his eyes and cheeks hinted at a life of skill and prowess, perhaps the marks of a seasoned hunter or warrior. Ethan's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the clues before him, piecing together a picture of a culture and way of life that seemed to exist outside of the modern world he knew.

As he lay there, pinned beneath the weight of the mysterious stranger, Ethan's thoughts drifted to the strange, unfamiliar landscape that surrounded him. The absence of any recognizable landmarks, the eerie cries that echoed through the night – it all seemed to point to a conclusion that defied belief. Could it be that this was not the Earth he knew, but some strange, parallel world, untouched by the march of human progress?

The realization sent a shiver down Ethan's spine, his mind reeling with the implications. If this was indeed a different world, then everything he thought he knew about survival, about the rules of nature and man, might no longer apply. He was a stranger in a strange land, at the mercy of forces he could scarcely begin to comprehend.

As the wild-eyed stranger continued to babble excitedly in his unfamiliar tongue, Ethan could only stare up at him in mute astonishment, his mind racing with a million unanswered questions. Who was this man, and what did his appearance mean for Ethan's chances of survival? What other wonders and horrors lay waiting in the shadows of this strange new world?

With a grunt of effort, Ethan managed to wriggle free from the stranger's grasp, his heart pounding with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

As Ethan struggled to regain his composure, the wild man who had tackled him began to inspect him more closely, his eyes darting over Ethan's unfamiliar clothing and gear. The man adorned with intricate tattoos sniffed him as he quickly got on two before Ethan could even process what the man did.

"Human, you are not from our tribe… not even neighboring ones," the man said, his voice urgent and insistent. "You have strange skins, strange smell, strange tools. Not from here." The man said, his eyes wide as they flicked over Ethan's unfamiliar attire. "I killed gozilla young… Now gozillas are following me. We have to go!"

Ethan, still catching his breath from the physical ordeal and the shock of being attacked, listened intently, trying to piece together the man's sentences. That is somehow miraculously slowly understood as if his brain is in the middle of decoding an ancient language. However, there are still some weird words like 'gozilla'—he quickly realized the man was referring to gorillas considering what he heard not long ago. A horrifying picture began to form in his mind of a confrontation gone terribly wrong.

Ethan's mind reeled as he processed the wild man's words. "Killing a baby gorilla?" he thought, his stomach churning at the idea. "What the hell was this guy thinking? Why would anyone in their right mind bring the wrath of those beasts down on their head?"

He shook his head, trying to make sense of the situation. Ethan had seen firsthand the fierce protectiveness of gorilla mothers during his time in the Congo. He knew that they would stop at nothing to defend their young, and that anyone foolish enough to harm an infant would face the full force of their fury.

"This is insane," Ethan muttered, his gaze flicking between the wild man and the surrounding forest. "Not only am I stranded in the middle of nowhere, but now I'll be hunted by some vengeful gorillas because of this guy's actions. What kind of twisted survival instinct drives someone to make such a reckless decision?"

The stranger, noticing Ethan's momentary confusion, grabbed his arm, his grip firm but not hostile. "Fire out, now, we must go, stranger!" he insisted, moving towards the campfire. With deft movements, he scattered the embers with a kick of dirt, effectively smothering the flames and plunging the area into near darkness, illuminated only by the moonlight filtering through the trees.

"This way, follow, fast," the man urged, tugging Ethan's arm as he started to move through the forest with surprising agility.

As the wild man led Ethan deeper into the forest, away from the extinguished remains of his campfire, Ethan's mind raced with a mix of disappointment, frustration, and uncertainty. The small sanctuary he had worked so hard to create, a place that promised warmth and safety in this alien wilderness, was now nothing more than a fading memory behind him.

"Damn it," Ethan muttered under his breath, frustration seeping into his voice. His hand instinctively reached for his backpack, only to remember with a pang of despair that it was no longer there. "All my supplies, my tools, everything I need to survive out here… It’s all back there."

The realization hit hard. He had managed to grab his multi-tool, the only piece of equipment that might help him in this unforgiving wilderness before they ran off, but it felt like a hollow victory. The wild man’s grip on his arm tightened slightly, a silent reminder that they had no time for hesitation or second thoughts. The immediate threat of the vengeful gorillas loomed larger than the loss of his meager possessions.

Ethan sighed, a weary breath escaping his lips as he trudged forward. "Well, if I die here, I'll never retrieve my stuff anyway," he murmured, his voice tinged with resignation.

As they moved deeper into the shadows of the forest, Ethan's thoughts turned to the unknown path ahead. "Where is he taking me?" he wondered, his eyes straining to make out any distinguishing features in the darkness. "To his tribe? And what then? Will they welcome me, or see me as a threat?"

The uncertainty gnawed at him, but Ethan knew that he had no choice but to trust in the wild man's intentions. Whatever lay ahead, it had to be better than facing the wrath of an enraged gorillas alone… Thanks, wildman, very cool!

"I just hope I'm not jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire," Ethan muttered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of their hurried footsteps and the rustle of leaves. "But I guess I'll find out soon enough."

As they pressed on, the wild man navigating the dense undergrowth with an ease that spoke of a lifetime spent in these woods, Ethan couldn't shake the feeling that his life had taken a turn into the surreal.

"If I make it out of this," Ethan thought, a grim smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, "I'm going to have one hell of a story to tell. Assuming anyone back home would even believe it."

x-x-x

In the dense underbrush of the forest, four formidable male gorillas approached the site where Ethan once made his temporary sanctuary. Their heavy, deliberate steps thudded against the earth, each footfall sending small tremors through the ground. The leader of the group, a massive silverback with scars that told tales of survival, led the way with an air of grave authority.

As they neared the clearing, the smell of smoke still hung faintly in the air, a remnant of the fire that Ethan had extinguished under the wild man's urgent guidance. The gorillas paused at the edge of the clearing, their deep-set eyes scanning the area with a mix of curiosity and caution.

"Ugh, ugh, fire here," the silverback grunted, his nostrils flaring as he caught the scent of the extinguished flames. "Uman here, danger."

The silverback signaled the others to follow as he moved closer to the remains of the fire. His large, sensitive nostrils flared as he sniffed the charred wood and ash, trying to piece together the events that had transpired. With a low, rumbling growl, he communicated his unease to the rest of the group.

"Uman make fire, uman make bad things… but the scent is not of an uman," one of the other males responded, his eyes darting around the clearing suspiciously… Well, the scent at least was not a wildman’s, to give him some credit.

They responded with similar grunts, their eyes locked on the strange construction of branches and leaves that made up Ethan's abandoned shelter.

One of the younger males, his curiosity getting the best of him, approached the lean-to. He poked at the structure with his powerful arms, causing it to sway slightly. The craftsmanship was unlike anything they had seen before—a human design, so alien yet so intriguing.

"What this? Uman make this?" he grunted, confusion evident in his tone.

He emitted a series of short, sharp grunts, drawing the attention of the silverback.

With a heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of his grief, the leader approached the shelter. His child had been one of the infants killed, and the pain of that loss burned within him like a never-ending fire.

"Uman take my young, uman must pay," the silverback growled, his voice thick with sorrow and rage.

As he stood before the human-made structure, his sorrow transformed into a palpable rage. With a powerful roar that echoed through the forest, he lashed out at the shelter, tearing it apart with ease. Branches snapped under his immense strength, leaves scattered like whispers into the wind.

The silverback's anguished roar echoed through the forest as he unleashed his fury on Ethan's abandoned shelter. "UMAN THING DIE, UMAN DIE! LIKE UMAN MAKE MY YOUNG DIE!" His massive hands tore at the branches, splintering them effortlessly.

Not content with merely dismantling the lean-to, the enraged leader turned his attention to the trees supporting the structure. With a guttural cry, he wrapped his powerful arms around a slender trunk and began to shake it violently. The tree's roots strained against the earth, unable to withstand the gorilla's immense strength.

Sensing their leader's pain and rage, the other males joined in the destruction. One gorilla used his weight to push against a partially uprooted tree, his muscles bulging with effort. Another attacked the remnants of the shelter, scattering leaves and twigs in all directions.

The clearing erupted into a cacophony of snapping wood, tearing foliage, and primal screams. Leaves rained down as smaller trees were ripped from the ground. The once-peaceful glade transformed into a scene of devastation, mirroring the turmoil in the silverback's heart.

As the last supporting tree crashed to the forest floor, the leader beat his chest furiously, sending a final challenge to the absent humans who had caused such pain. The other gorillas gathered around him, their breaths coming in heavy pants, surveying the destruction they had wrought in shared grief and solidarity.

"Leader strong, leader make uman pay," one of them grunted in support.

Once the shelter was nothing more than a pile of debris, the silverback pounded his chest with closed fists, a traditional display of dominance and a way to vent his relentless anguish.

After a few moments, the leader's breathing slowed, and the raw intensity in his eyes faded to a dull ache. He grunted softly, the sound mournful and resigned. The group huddled briefly, their heads bowed in a semblance of a gorilla mourning ritual.

"We remember young, we honor young," the silverback murmured, his voice heavy with grief.

As night began to deepen, casting long shadows across the forest floor, the silverback made a final decision. They could not linger here, not with the scent of humans still lingering in the air and the potential threat drawn by the lack of males back in their nest even Cave Dwellers.

"We go, cave dwellers come, more danger," he commanded with a series of low grunts.

They retreated into the forest, their movements quieter now, each step deliberate and purposeful. The anger had left a residue of sorrow in its wake, a reminder of the child they had lost and the intrusion of humans into their domain.

As they disappeared into the dense foliage, the night reclaimed the clearing, the sounds of their departure fading into the chorus of the nocturnal forest. The site of the destroyed shelter lay in quiet disarray, a testament to the grief and rage of a father, and the ever-present struggle between man and nature in the wilds of this strange, untamed world.

《ᘿᘕᘮᘔᘼ》