CHAPTER 2

Puppy Problems and Indigestion

Once Hunter was safely tucked behind the trees and away from danger, he hurried upstream away from the fighting monsters. He kept going until he could barely hear the sounds of fighting behind him. Two things happened simultaneously. One, the battle reached its crescendo, both beasts letting out terrifying cries. Secondly, Hunter started feeling guilty for leaving the pup to its fate.

It didn’t make any sense. He had no responsibility to the animal. It was most likely dead already. There was absolutely no good reason to risk himself checking on it.

On the other hand, he had always loved dogs. He grew up surrounded by them and remembered many days where his family’s dogs brought him out of a dark place in his mind.

And on the other other hand, this was no dog. It was a demon spawn of a gigantic terrifying wolf. It would probably eat him if he saved it. The real question was whether he could live with letting a defenseless canine perish when he could do something about it.

“Fuck me!” Hunter moved as stealthily as he could back through the trees. He followed the creek trying to peer through the gloom of the trees to see the site of the epic battle. The sound of pitiful whining and a high pitched bark filtered through the insulating vegetation.

Hunter stayed low to the ground as he pushed his way through the last layer of ferns. A scene of carnage greeted his eyes. The giant wolf’s guts were spilling onto the ground from where it lay on its side. The giant feline’s neck was gripped in the wolf’s jaws. Now that he was taking his time he saw that the tiger looking creature had large fangs like a saber-tooth tiger. Its yellow fur was streaked with blood. The back paws of the tiger were caught in the flesh of the wolf’s underbelly, where its claws had torn through.

Hunter could feel his gorge rising from the amount of gore, while strangely his stomach started protesting hunger at the same time. Neither of the giant creatures were moving. The pup was pacing back and forth by its parent’s tail.

He approached slowly trying not to startle his little friend. “Don’t be scared little guy. I’m going to get you out of here, how does that sound?” Hunter stayed as low to the ground as he could and held his hand out, palm up. The pup backed into its mothers leg and huddled there while shaking.

Hunter’s target was smaller than he would have expected for the offspring of a dire wolf whose leg was almost as tall as he was. The little guy was the size of a corgi and pitiful looking with fluff sticking out in every direction. He was black furred just like his mother and had vibrant green eyes, staring at Hunter warily.

“Hey little buddy, don’t be scared.” I reached my hand towards him slowly. “I’m trying to help you out.” Hunter used his high pitched baby voice that his dogs always seemed to respond to. The pup responded to his approach by growling in such a cut way that he couldn’t help but laugh.

Reaching into his bag, Hunter brought out a few pieces of his precious food supply. The little black ball of fur sniffed at it curiously for a few seconds before lunging forward to grab it. “Jesus! Be easy you little shit!” Hunter yelled as the pup took some skin from his fingertips along with the jerky. Of course this led to more growling from the pup and it backed as far away as it could.

Deciding he had wasted enough time with this avenue, he reached forward to grab the pup by the scruff of the neck. When being nice failed you needed to show a dog who was boss. The little shit snapped at his arm, leaving Hunter bleeding from a few punctures. Fortunately he succeeded in picking the pup up with a hand supporting his lower half.

With Hunter’s quarry in hand he started making his way upstream. The great thing about grabbing a pup by the scruff is they don’t struggle too much, so despite the fact that it wouldn’t stop whining, he was able to carry it to safety without too much trouble. Every now and then it would try to turn and bite Hunter’s hand but a little maneuvering was all that was required to prevent any more injuries.

“You’re a vicious little shit aren’t you?” Hunter asked the wolf, while chuckling. “Maybe you’ll be good for something if I can teach you to help me hunt.”

After a particularly pitiful whine Hunter decided to take a break from walking and set the pup down while keeping a firm hold on it so it wouldn’t run. “You look half starved, you little runt. Are you still hungry?” He pulled out a handful of jerky and placed it on the ground in front of the pup.

He slowly released his hold to see what it would do. It immediately started sniffing and scarfing down the food he had offered. “What should I call you? You have to have a name if I’m going to keep you.”

“You’re going to grow up into a giant monster of a wolf. I could name you Fenrir!” Hunter thought about it for a few moments, but ultimately decided against it. “If this really isn’t earth nobody is going to understand the reference.”

While the little guy ate, he poked and prodded at it, eliciting a few more distracted growls. He confirmed it indeed was a boy wolf. Its fur was a pure pitch black with tints of blue when the sun hit it just right. “Maybe I could name you Jet, your coloring is definitely jet black.” Keeping the name simple was probably best.

Jet looked up at Hunter, searching for more food. When none was offered, the pup started circling while scenting the area around them.

“We don’t really have time to be searching for food right now. We have to get farther away from those bodies, they are going to attract more predators.” Jet ignored this and kept sniffing. Hunter moved closer to the pup to pick him back up. The little guy was only about a foot tall and still had soft fluffy fur. Picking Jet up led to another struggle for dominance as the pup fought for a few minutes, nipping and whining.

Eventually they settled into an agreement, with the pup basically sitting upright on his left arm, while Hunter’s right arm kept him stabilized. Jet was quite thin and only weighed around a lean 20 pounds. Though he could have sworn the pup was lighter the first time he picked him up.

Hunter started marching purposefully upstream, hoping once again to find civilization near the water source and make his way out of this forest soon.

Several hours of walking left Hunter winded and his arm feeling numb from the weight of his passenger. The afternoon was well on its way to evening now and they needed to find somewhere to shelter tonight. He turned to the right slightly to get further into the trees and looked around for a hollow they could sleep in.

A few hundred feet further led to a large tree that had a cleft in the front like a shallow cave. It would make a secure place to sleep tonight. They would be sheltered from rain and would only have to worry about an attack from one direction.

With his campsite found, he made his way to the creek for one last drink and to clean up before resting. Jet drank deeply and allowed Hunter to wipe him down, getting most of the dried blood off the pup. When Hunter started walking away Jet hesitated, but ultimately followed.

Taking off the satchel and setting it in the back of the tree cave, Hunter rummaged through it to retrieve the knife in the bottom. It was a black iron knife with a thick wooden handle. There was no sheathe, so he was forced to tuck it into his pants. He wanted to make sure it was on hand if they were attacked in the middle of the night. It was his only weapon.

The sun started setting, and with the light fading, he settled down next to Jet. Hunter reached out to try and pet the pup like he would one of his dogs. “Hey bud.. AH!” He got more puncture marks on his fingers for his efforts. “Be nice, you vicious little shit! I just wanted to touch your fur.”

Jet responded with a cute bark and growled for a few seconds. The pup moved to the other side of the hollow, circled a spot and laid down opposite Hunter, far out of reach.

“Fine, be like that.” He huffed. “You’re an ungrateful little asshole, ain’t you?” Hunter continued in a sing-song tone. “Yes you are!”

Giving up, Hunter flopped onto his side and decided to try to sleep as much as he could before getting an early start tomorrow.

…

Daylight speared through Hunter’s eyelids, rudely waking him from a deep slumber. “Uuuggh!” Hunter moaned while rubbing his face and trying to get his eyes working. Jet was laying on the other side of the hollow, where he had last seen the pup. Hunter’s stomach started protesting immediately, he had barely eaten anything yesterday. He gave what he would have eaten to Jet.

He made his way over to the satchel sitting on the back wall and noticed it was wide open and the canvas sacks were shredded around it. His heart sank as he realized there would be no breakfast this morning… at least, not for him. Hunter narrowed his eyes as he honed in on the little beast sleeping peacefully on the other side of the enclosure. Jet’s little belly was sticking out from a stomach full of rations. “You little bastard!”

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Hunter snatched the pup off the ground, and Jet immediately started struggling and snapping at him. “How could you? I’m going to starve to death because of you!” Jet twisted and scratched at him until he finally let go. The pup went toward the exit and stood watching Hunter warily.

Hunter waved the empty bags of jerky in the air. “You ate it all! We have no more food!” Jet had the decency to hang its head in shame, his tail and ears drooped for a few moments.

“Fuck it. Let’s just get out of here. Crying about it isn’t going to get me any breakfast.” Hunter shouldered his satchel and made sure his knife was still on his hip before walking towards Jet. The pup backed up nervously. “It’s fine, I’m not going to beat you, just… be a little more considerate… asshole. I swear to god, I’m gonna rename you something insulting as revenge.”

Hunter started following the creek again, noticing it was getting wider the farther they went, which was a good sign. Jet followed along behind him, sniffing here and there before trotting to catch up. Hunter was searching as well, looking for anything that might be edible along the way.

He saw bushes with red berries that he immediately decided against from a fear of poisoning himself. Mushrooms littered the ground under certain trees that blocked the sun, he avoided those for the same reason.

Who was he kidding? Hunter wasn’t some experienced bush hunter. He wouldn’t know food from poison on his best day. He kept ruminating on possible ways to get through as they trekked further into the forest. The comforting sound of gurgling water was never far away, he refused to leave the creek behind him. He knew he could probably go a good bit of time without food, but water was essential if he was going to survive.

Maybe he could force-feed something to the fur ball to see if it was poisonous… He felt bad just thinking that, why would he bother saving the little guy and then just use him as a guinea pig.

Hunter stopped by one of the bushes with the red berries. He picked one off to inspect it. It was bright red, about the size of a cherry. The skin wasn’t smooth like a cherry though, it was rough like a lizard’s. He squished it between his fingers and started sniffing, trying to investigate it before putting it in his mouth. It had a slightly fruity smell, nothing bitter.

Tentatively reaching out his tongue, he tried to taste the berry without ingesting it. It was sweet, but he still spat it out just in case. One final test came to mind.

Walking up to Jet, he kneeled down and held out his hand with the berry. Jet looked at him warily and sniffed at his hand before quickly losing interest. It didn’t seem like a bad reaction.

Hunter decided to just go for it. He threw the crushed berry on the ground and picked a fresh one. With high hopes, he popped it in his mouth and started chewing. It tasted great! Kind of a cross between an apple's sweetness and an orange tang.

Hunter figured he would eat one and wait a bit to see if he got a stomach ache or broke out in hives. He swallowed the delicious fruit and sat down to see what happened.

As soon as the berry hit his stomach, he knew something was wrong. His stomach started rebelling against him immediately. He broke out in a cold sweat and could feel his mouth filling with saliva. His stomach started heaving gently at first and then more violently as time passed. He tried to keep his gorge down by swallowing, he hated the feeling of vomiting, but it was use.

Turning to the side, he heaved so hard that he hit Jet sitting a few feet away. While one, very small part of Hunter celebrated getting back on the mangy pup, the rest of his attention was focused on the massive feeling of revulsion and rejection that his brain was sending his way.

Hunter’s eyes were watering relentlessly. He coughed until he felt like he could speak without choking. “What the fuck was that! That was worse than eating spoiled Chinese food!”

Hunter looked toward Jet looking for sympathy, but the runt just started yapping and growling at him in indignation. “Come on, let's go to the creek and we can clean up.”

He levered himself to his feet and trudged towards the sound of water. Hunter felt miserable. Not only was he nauseous now, but his stomach was pretending his throat was cut, and he was starting to get really anxious that he would die in this forest. He was either going to starve to death or die covered in his own vomit from eating something toxic.

Hunter washed his face in the creek and took some time to fill his stomach with water. Jet was still mad at him and sulking a few feet away. He walked over and started wiping down Jet’s fur with a moist hand and trying to get him as clean as he could.

Jet seemed to realize what he was doing and endured it with only a little growling. “Thank you for not biting me again.”

Jet chuffed at Hunter in response. Hunter was starting to think Jet was a bit smarter than his dogs had been. “Can you actually understand me?” I asked while watching the dire wolf pup wander around.

Jet just ignored me as if I wasn’t even there. “Hey. Jet! Look at me, you little asshole!” Jet just kept sniffing the ground.

Okay, so maybe not.

Hunter felt fine other than being hungry, so he decided he needed to try some other plants and see if anything was edible. Surely something in this forest had to be safe.

Hunter was still wary of attempting to eat mushrooms, he had too little knowledge about fungus in general, and too much knowledge about psychedelics to even consider trying them unless it was a last resort.

Hours passed as Hunter gathered various plants around the area. He tried to think of everything, he even pulled up some plants from the ground looking for tubers or onions, knowing some vegetables grow under the ground.

Hunter brought everything to a clear spot near the creek and was going to go through them one at a time until he found something that would be edible.

Hunter picked up a round root ball from the pile that had a growth that looked roughly like a bright green sweet potato. He used his knife to slice into it, showing the darker flesh on the inside. He went through the same process of elimination as with the red berry from earlier that day.

The tuber was firm, had very little scent, and tasted a little savory. He shaved off the skin on one side and took a small bite. The texture was not enjoyable. It honestly felt like eating an uncooked potato. He chewed quickly and swallowed.

Hunter was nervous. He could feel the mouthful traveling down his esophagus and moving toward his stomach. He braced himself. The food hit his tummy.

“Come on, come on! Just stay down!” Hunter’s stomach started making loud gurgling sounds. Jet yelped and dashed a dozen feet downstream from him.

His gorge rose again, and this time Hunter didn’t fight it. He emptied his stomach into a bush quickly. Once the food was out of his system, he immediately felt better. “Is everything in this forest laced with Ipecac?”

Hunter started pacing while cursing his luck and the unfairness of this world. Desperation was starting to color his thoughts, and he didn’t think he could handle much more failure.

He bent and grabbed another fruit from the ground. He had found what looked like a pineapple in a strange triangular shape with rounded edges. Cutting a wedge out of the fruit, he found that the yellowish-green rough exterior gave way to supple pink flesh that dripped juices and reminded him of a citrus. The floral, fruity smell hit him powerfully as soon as he cut it, and it looked delicious.

“In for a penny, in for a pound!” He decided he just didn’t care anymore and took a large bite off the fruit. Juices ran down his chin and exploded in his mouth. The fruit tasted better than any he had tried before. Chewing the fruit was ecstasy and cleared his mouth of the foul taste of being sick. He savored it for several seconds before finally swallowing the mouthful down and preparing for the worst.

His stomach was begging him for sustenance, and he was hopeful. This fruit wasn’t as common as some of the other items he had found, but he knew he could find more. The food hit his stomach and gave him a little relief from the constant hunger pangs.

“Yes, yes, YES!” Hunter started ripping into the fruit and trying to cram more into his face, splashing sticky juices all over his face and shirt.

Then the cramps started.

Low in his gut and higher, near his stomach, his abdominal muscles started clenching uncontrollably. Awful noises like mustard being squirted out of a whoopee cushion resounded in the small clearing.

Jet moved even further away and started barking angrily at Hunter as he reached out toward his companion. “Oh my god help me!”

Hunter fell over on his side, unable to continue standing. The cramps moved lower, and he suddenly felt like he would soil himself. His throat was clamping down, ready to burst. Hunter hurriedly yanked his trousers down.

The next several minutes were the worst that Hunter had ever experienced. He was left feeling wrung out and crying. Jet yelped and whined in sympathy after it was over. Hunter cleaned himself up in the creek, feeling bad for anyone downstream from him, then turned back to his small pile of plants he had yet to try.

Hunter had a sinking feeling, remembering a line from the note he had been left with. He tore through his bag, snatching the note out and started scanning it.

…Slight modifications have been made to your body to benefit your ability….

Hunter’s first thought was what the fuck! His second thought was along the same lines, but he eventually started thinking about the possibilities. What kind of modifications was she talking about? What did he know so far?

He had been left with no food other than some dried meat. Was he only able to eat certain kinds of prepared foods? Did he have to cook the food in order to be able to digest it? Or was it more fundamental? Was he turned into some kind of carnivore that could only eat meat now?

Hunter knew there was only one way to find out. He and Jet were going to have to do some hunting. He would have to kill an animal and see if he could survive off meat. Hunter had no idea how he would cook the meat yet, but he had to do something.

“Come on Jet. Let's go find some meat!” I yelled at my puppy pal. Jet barked loudly in agreement, or at least that's what I took it as. “Hell yeah!”

The noise must have attracted a passing monster because right at that moment a familiar screech sounded out from the forest. The sound of snapping branches and rustling foliage quickly heralded a lizard making its way closer.

Hunter gritted his teeth. The last time he saw one of these things, he had hidden in a tree till it lost interest. Today, he was going to find out what magical Komodo dragon tasted like.