Chapter 9: Trails of the Wilderness
It was a week since then.
The trees came in all different sizes. Some were spindly, some were thick, some were tall, and some were short. But the common thing they all shared; their green, leafy canopies which seemed identical to his eyes, which knew naught of tree physiology.
And so, while he loathed to admit it, he was... lost.
It seemed like he didn’t quite master how to navigate just yet. And while he was walking, he swore that he saw the same rock formation he passed by a few hours ago.
Just... was he walking in circles?
He let out an exasperated sigh, and sat down on the same rock which he passed by again. He released the leather bag from his back, and took out the water skin he had. He took a quick sip. Luckily, the cold spring weather meant that sweating was impossible unless he really exerted himself, so it meant that his water reserves were still in a decent state.
His food reserves on the other hand... The bread was gone. The jar of preserved, pickled vegetables was also gone. While he wasn’t quite hungry just yet, it was somewhat concerning.
Then again, he learned from Magnus that the human being can last for a week, maybe two weeks if they were inactive enough without any food. On the other hand, a human can only last for three days or so without any water.
So with his newly remembered knowledge, he now wasn’t too concerned about it.
...
But what if he gets lost for another week? Would that mean that he would starve to death, then? He decided that unless some god out there gives him food, then yes. He would starve to death.
Then that just meant he needed to hunt, yes? Now, while hunting was a topic they brushed upon, nothing advanced was taught to him. All he understood was that a bow and arrow, or even a spear was good for hunting.
He certainly didn’t know how to create a bow, much less know how to use it. On the other hand, a spear... a spear was something he was decent at. In essence, a spear is just a stick with a sharpened point. Therefore, he could simply take a decently tough and long stick, sharpen one of its ends, and that would be a spear, right?
So he began his hunt for a decent enough stick.
That stick was too short. That stick was too curved. That stick... was suspiciously perfect. Now, durability test. It let out a large snap, as it splintered where Tobias mildly flexed it. He looked at the two split fragments, and idly tossed them away with a shrug.
How disappointing...
Back to stick hunting, he supposed.
And after a few more minutes of keeping his eyes glued to the base of trees, he found it. A stick of perfect length. A stick of perfect width. A stick which didn’t snap into two twigs when he gradually increased the pressure on it.
It was a stick. It was the stick. It was a stick which was supposed to be the very standard – no, the very ideal of sticks within this world...!
And so, with the stick which seemed too perfect, he took out his knife from its sheath, and began to carve its end into a point.
While he was carving, he idly wondered if he could simply just tie his knife into the stick, before dismissing that thought. He didn’t have any rope to bind the knife into the stick as far as he was concerned. So much for that (self-proclaimed) ingenious idea.
His carving done, he carefully tapped his finger against the point. It dug into his skin, and he let out a small grin.
It was a simple, yet efficient spear derived from the perfect stick.
Giving it a practice twirl, he found that it also possessed excellent balance. Not perfect, but maybe if he did tie his knife at the end of the stick, it would be most perfectly balanced. He idly blamed himself for not having the foresight to bring any rope, but didn’t quite complain to himself anymore.
He gave a few test jabs, and felt confident about himself. Now, how did a person go about hunting again...?
If he remembered correctly, a hunter is supposed to find signs of animal activity. Trails, droppings, markings, or even sounds if they were close enough were all signs, right?
So he began his search again. His eyes were kept peeled, and his ears were perked. A bird caw came from somewhere, and he idly let out a sigh.
Now that he focused on listening, the forest really wasn’t that entirely silent. The wind whooshed by him, as they shook the leaves with a faint rustle. The birds cawed from the skies and from who-knows-where, and his own footsteps resounded in his ears. He shifted his feet so that they wouldn’t make too much of a noise.
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He had just gotten used to them at some point, really. And the worst part is, now that he’s actively remembered that forest ambience was a thing, it now persisted in his ears annoyingly.
Well, hearing was for the most part, gone for now then. He returned to his duty of looking for animal signs again.
...
He didn’t know how long it took, but there. He found a trail of footsteps which were small enough to not belong to him, and he raised his spear in anticipation. But then he took in a silent breath, and let it out just as silently to calm himself down.
With spear in hand, he followed the trail. He really didn’t know what he was following, but he supposed that it didn’t matter.
The anticipation built up as he took step after step, and he idly thought how he would prepare his newfound meal. He wondered how to light a fire, how to set up a pit, and how to properly skin whatever he found.
And then... the trail led to a small deer grazing on a bush filled with berries that seemed poisonous to humans. There, he found his prey.
Then he idly wondered what he was supposed to do next. Was he supposed to sneak up to it and stab it? Or was he supposed to sprint at it and stab it? Or was he supposed to throw his spear, chase after it, and stab it?
Or maybe it was a combination of everything? Sneak up to it and if he was lucky enough, it wouldn’t notice him before he stabs it. But if it did, then he would throw his spear and chase after it then.
With plan in mind, he set out. His gaze shifted from the ground to see if he would step on anything which could produce noise, and towards the deer to see if it reacted to his presence. His spear was raised, ready to be thrown at a moment’s notice.
Careful, silent step after step, he crept slowly towards the deer. And he didn’t know what set it off, but it raised its head and began to gallop away.
And just like that, the tense hand which he drew back sprang forth. While his spear was light and was only sharpened wood, his arm strength meant that it would pierce through even a fleeing deer. His throw was accurate enough – the spear landed on the deer’s hind leg, yet it still galloped away, but at a somewhat slower pace – one that he could easily keep up with.
So he broke into a sprint, giving chase before it disappeared out of sight. His vision was kept locked on the deer, and the path it took, as marked by the blood trail it left. He leapt through tree roots, through fallen logs, and through rocks in the ground. He gave chase with only pursuit in mind.
And there it was. The deer finally succumbed to the ground, exhausted and wounded. It landed on its right side – the part opposite the spear, and he approached it with calm, measured steps. The chase wasn’t quite as exhausting as he thought. Then again, the deer did have a spear sticking out of its leg, so maybe he was being unfair.
When he finally approached the deer, he drew his knife, and looked at the deer’s face. Those eyes which seemed to accept its imminent death only looked expressionless and blank.
Without anymore hesitation, his knife slashed through the deer’s neck, as the life from its eyes died away. It was surprising that Magnus’ executing knowledge could also work on animals like this. It was something Tobias kept in mind for the next time.
And then – there was growling. It came from behind, so with a quick spin, he came face to face against two wolves which snarled at him... No, not at him. Their eyes were fixed on the deer which he had hunted.
His eyes narrowed, as he slowly stood up and retrieved the wooden spear. The end was stained with blood, yet a quick glance told him that it was still sharp enough for maybe one more dedicated throw or thrust.
In his right hand was the spear, and in his left was the knife. His sword was still sheathed by his side, but he knew he would have to draw it once his spear becomes obsolete.
Tobias stared at the wolves, and they also stared at him. His spear was raised to deliver a quick one handed thrust, and his knife was ready to intercept if the other wolf came around.
And then – more growling around him appeared. He carefully craned his head to look around, and saw that he was surrounded by... at least six more wolves, including those who found him first.
Man and beasts stared at each other for the longest time, as they waited for the other to back off. But finally, after both parties realized that neither was willing to part with the fallen deer, the wolves began to creep slowly towards him.
He wondered what should he do when he was surrounded by foes. Was it worth it to simply let himself get surrounded, or should he explode into action and draw first blood?
Wolves were exceptionally agile, and worked better in packs right? Then getting surrounded was only a death wish for him.
So with plan in mind, he gripped his spear and knife tightly, took a deep breath, and exploded into action.
His sudden sprint forwards only caused the wolves in front of him to seemingly freeze, before his spear thrust landed on the right wolf’s neck. It started to choke, before the paired wolves took this as a sign to leap towards him.
His dodged the leap by ducking, and his left hand snaked upwards as the knife landed on the wolf’s exposed belly.
The sound of claws raking against the ground only meant one thing; the other wolves were attacking him. A quick glance told him that another pair leapt towards him at the same time.
So he let go of his knife and with two hands, swung his spear in a massive arc around him, while the wolf’s body was still attached. The wolf’s body was launched off, crashing against another wolf, and the wide swing landed against the other wolf’s head, earning a sick crack and a howl filled with pain. Its body slumped to the ground, as blood began to pool around its head.
His spear snapped from the impact. It didn’t matter – the way it snapped only gave him sharp, jagged stick which promised absolute pain to whoever gets pierced with it. He shifted the jagged stick into his left hand, before drawing his sword with his right.
The three wolves which remained growled threateningly at him, while their stances were kept low to the ground. They were ready to leap to him if he dared to attack them.
So he kept his stance low as well, as his two weapons were ready to strike and punish.
Once again, man and beasts stared at each other. But this time, it was the beasts which moved first. One of them leapt towards him directly, which he attacked by swinging his blade across its head. Steel carved through wolf, as its mouth and face was carved terribly. It howled in pain, and he took a step back to prevent its body from tackling him.
But there was no time to finish it. The two other wolves ran by both sides of him, and were executing a pincer attack.
Any other man would have been surprised by this tactic and surprising willingness of a wolf to sacrifice itself to execute an attack like this.
But Tobias was prepared. Compared to Magnus’ almost lightning fast attacks, these wolves were slow in comparison.
Both wolves leapt towards him at the same time. He took a quick step backwards, before his sword cleaved through the right wolf’s head. The left wolf only hit through air, as he fell on his back to intentionally dodge the leap attack. And with his left hand, he shoved the jagged end of the stick towards its underside, earning him a splatter of blood and a howl filled with pain once more.
He lay on his back for a few moments, before standing up. He walked towards the wolf, whose face and mouth were carved as it whimpered in agony, before he stared at it.
If the wolf had any understanding of emotions, then it would see the stone cold, calculating expression that Tobias wore on his face. And without any further wait, his sword plunged into the wolf’s neck, taking it out of its misery. He took it out, and with two quick swipes against the wolf’s fur to clean it, he sheathed it.
With a soft sigh, he looked around himself. The earth beneath him was stained dark-red with blood, as wolf corpses were strewn about. He idly walked to the wolf he slayed with his knife, before collecting it without any further comments or thoughts.
He looked at the deer – the reason why they were fighting in the first place, and found that it was still there, miraculously. And then he walked to it, before picking it up by its hind leg and dragging it across the ground, away from the scene of combat.
That was the plan at least, before he heard growling again. He slowly turned around.
There were five more wolves – bigger, and seemingly ready to avenge their fallen comrades.
With a sigh to himself, he dropped the deer, and drew out the faintly blood stained blade and the knife he held. His sword by his right hand, and his knife by his left, he raised them once more.
If they wanted to avenge their comrades, then who was he to deny them that?