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Chapter IV: Round Two
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The morning rose and Alakar crawled out of a homemade shelter. He had a good night’s rest for once, and came to the decision that he should go back home today. A lot had been waning on his mind.
He wished to be changed back into a human and had no clue how to do it. Regardless, he had to get his wife on board with the plan, even though she probably had no idea how to help either. There were problems with his plan to gain Margrett’s help though, as his current state of being was questionable. The asymmetrical features, the pointy appendages, and short stature shed no previous resemblance of himself. And then there was the issue of traveling in his changed form through new terrain. There were other concerns with his body as well, yet he was unable to describe them, even in his own thoughts.
Several days, if not a week had passed since he left to go hunt horned deer. Part of him worried about Margrett, and the other part of him knew she could handle her own. Yet for his family’s sake, he needed to make it home alive.
It would likely take him the whole day, maybe even two days to make it back to the edge of the forest. He was constantly reminded of his soon-to-be trek as a mountain loomed over his back. Some of the mountain was covered in small trees and long viny structures. But most of it was sheer rock, vertical in nature, and impossible to climb. He would know, he liked to climb.
There was little interest within him to climb that mountain today, although it would still serve a purpose. The mountain had a flat side that faced the direction he needed to go, and it would act as one of his guides to make it home.
He begins to check out the best trails to tread on from the base of the mountain. And in quick succession, he clears his camp in an orderly manner: putting out the campfire’s embers, dismantling the shelter, and disarming his traps.
Now within a treacherous bog, he advances across an unwieldy landscape carrying what little he has in a frog skinned knapsack. He avoids all the puddles and creatures in his wake until he comes to a small lake.
The lake was covered in lily pads, and strange wooden structures floated in the water. He stopped a few meters from the edge of the lake.
He needed to think. There was a chance he might slip into the water since long grass covered the banks. It was slick and grew into the lake, well under the surface waters. He had to be careful to avoid falling in and watch out for things that would eat him. The tops of his feet were gross, covered in muck, yet he figured he was better off than if he wore boots. Leather soles would slip right off the wet grass.
He moved carefully around the lake and kept a fair distance from the edge when he could. As he circled around the edge he came to a narrow stretch of land, and he had to cross it to continue in the right direction. He would make the cross and find what he thought was a swamp rat.
It was a matted brown thing that stood up on its hind legs in the shallow water. He accidentally made eye contact with it, and before he knew it, the beast was on him like stink.
He slings his knapsack to the ground in a hurry and pulls his dagger from the strap. The beast swings its tail in a wide arc at him. It’s fast yet drags in the air.
He goes down to all fours to dodge and then leaps upwards.
*Swoooooooshhhh*
The tail swings in a wide arc again, yet it meets nothing besides the musty-swamp air. The animal quickly looks to the left and to the right, trying to figure out where its foe went.
*Plop*
The beast growls in frustration as Alakar lands on its back. It kicks, squirms, and bucks violently, but it’s not able to shake him. Alakar jerks forwards, backwards, and even in circles, as he attempts to stab the beast. It turns into one crazy horse ride, yet there is no horse.
It swings and swats its tail hundreds of times over. The beast begins to show signs of fatigue yet continues to buck him. The fight slows, but a sudden jerk flings the dagger from his hand, and it soon sinks into the mud.
He leans into the beast, grasping its fur with all of his fingers and toes.
While screaming into its fur out of anger, his palms light up.
A blue light radiates from his hands. He is not able to gawk at the light and focuses on not falling off. The bucking quickly becomes more intense along with the blue glow. He holds on for dear life, cursing at his own predicament. The blue is so bright now that it pierces through his closed eyelids.
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And then the ride stops.
The beast momentarily staggers and wobbles on its legs, and then smolders into the mud. He lets his grip loose and sags his limbs over the body.
He is tired and surprised to still be hanging on. Eventually, he rolled himself off the corpse.
There was a lot of confusion in his mind, and he had all sorts of lingering questions. They would have to wait though, as more of the rodents had jumped into the water from their wooden structures.
He made haste, picked up his muddy knapsack, and hoisted it over his shoulder. Panicked, and in a hurry, he haphazardly looked for his dagger in thick mud. He abandoned the idea quickly though as well as the corpse.
The creatures were coming for him, and he had to leave now or risk a fight that he couldn’t hope to win. He ran butt-naked through puddles and ferns as fast as he could and away from the water.
Once he passed through a thin tree line, he stopped to rest. He was still winded from his fight and upset from not being able to enjoy his victory. It wasn’t the scrapes and bruises from the beast that bothered him. It was the loss of not being able to eat something new that affected him. Even more so, the effort he put in to win, only to be unable to claim his prize, left him mad.
He double-checks for angry rodents over his shoulder and scratches his head, and asks himself, “How did I kill that thing?”
That feeling right before it died, it was something else to him.
Oddly, he was determined to experiment and try that effect again. He had no idea what it was, and he honestly figured he just squeezed the animal to death. Yet a portion of him knew that his new body would not be capable of pulling off such a feat. He would have to try again, plus he’d yet to try that new meat.
He wonders, “Will it be lean and red like horned deer? Maybe it’ll have a fatty taste like bo-duck? I hope it doesn’t smell like frog meat though, ugh…” He sighs and pushes onwards.
Half the day went by since his last encounter, and he saw a few things that creeped him out in the swamp. Of course, he avoided them, but they were terrifying non the less. His current state of being was weak, and the things around had made him well aware of it. As night was about to set, he reached the milder forest. The trees were denser and looked more brown than gray.
With a deep long exhale, he falls on his butt in relief. He smiles in contentment and enjoys his more homely surroundings, yet he feels as if he belongs elsewhere. He growls in frustration and soon stops. He reminds himself that he is not some primitive animal. And with that impulse, he pushes his feelings around and builds a camp.
The sun had disappeared.
He poked and stirred the embers of his fire. He had caught two musky rats, and the fire was not hot enough to cook them yet. This would normally be the last thing he would eat, but chose it out of convenience’s sake. Plus, he felt like his taste buds had changed dramatically. His parents once told him a long time ago that his taste for things would change every few years; somehow, he knew that such wisdom did not apply here though.
He leaned over his fire and whittled at a wooden spike until he noticed something in the corner of his eye.
Some textured moss moves on the tree trunk next to him. He intuitively knows it’s a threat, and he’s too close to it to not take action. With all his strength, he tries to stab at it with the spike in hand. Unaware of what it is, he is instantly met with a face full of pink. The pink is sticky, and it reels him in like a fish.
Alakar is panicking, he feels engulfed, and his instincts go into overdrive.
While blind, he digs his heels into the dirt and tugs the other way.
Not willing to give up a life or death tug of war, he sinks the spike into the pink blob over and over. It does nothing, and he desperately attempts to remove the slime by squeezing it off his face. Nothing works, and he fights vigorously against the pull.
It’s not good enough. The mass lurches him forward, throwing him off balance.
*Smack*
He lands inside what feels like a sock drawer. Except he’s halfway stuck in it, and someone is constantly trying to kick it shut. He gasps in pain as strong forces press around his body. His legs tread thin air, and everything he touches is sticky and slimy. He grabs hold of what he thinks is an important organ and strangles it.
That blue light glimmers once again, and he sees that he’s in the mouth of something. This doesn’t change anything though, and he focuses on yanking and twisting with all his might. The air within the creature’s mouth is running low, and catching a breath is difficult. He steels himself and commits to more gouging. His vision blurs in and out, and he’s on the verge of losing consciousness.
Without any warning, the slime releases him. It launches him straight out, and he tumbles along the ground, collecting dust and dirt.
*Plop*
The animal now reveals itself and hops down from the tree. It sits directly in front of him only to call out.
*Ribbit* *Ribbit* *Ribbit*
Alakar says, “Wow, it was a frog! And here I was thinking you were some giant pink slime monster.”
He crouches and creeps around it and asks himself, “But why’d you spit me out fella?”
He bobs and weaves around the frog, thinking it still wants to eat him. A few minutes of this goes on and he understands that it’s either broken or dead. He hunches over to it, only to poke it and run away behind a log.
Peering over the log, it still does nothing.
There was no way he could tell what had transpired. He was lost, unsure of what to make of the thing that tried to eat him. And to add to the confusion, it just stood there motionless, as if they didn’t just fight to the death. It failed to blink, and meanwhile, he found it silly to be afraid of a frog. He eventually collected the courage to inspect it closer.
He poked it several more times in its squishy tummy, and then he let loose a left hook on it out of nowhere. The frog simply stepped backwards in response, unfazed.
*Ribbit* *Ribbit*
Alakar says, “Okay then… Let’s try this,” and he then jumps onto its back. He leans in, grabbing hold of its open earholes, and grips its plushiness with his legs.
It then leaped from the ground to a tree trunk. He was easily several meters off the ground and clung to the frog in fear that he would fall off. His fears were not warranted though, and his new companion began to shift from tree trunk to tree trunk. The midnight breeze flew over his bald head, and this felt good and refreshing to him.
He discovered that he could steer the frog by slightly pulling on the inside of its earholes. It was fascinating to him how some frogs had a hole straight through their head, truly bizarre. He managed to turn the amphibian around and collect his knapsack from the camp, amongst other miscellaneous things.
With transportation, he could make it back to his homestead by morning. His adrenaline from encountering another predator had him wide awake, and there was no point in trying to rest. He was thrilled to have a way of getting back home; it wasn’t a horse, but close enough.
He climbs back onto his frog, spurs it with his heels, and it leaps into the night. It's suction-cupped toes allows it to stick and maneuver throughout the tree canopy with ease.
Moments pass where they glide through the air, from tree to tree and ambiance takes him. He wonders what he can do or say to convince Margrett of his situation during every leap.
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