About when the sun hits its zenith, I decide to stop for a quick bite of lunch. Bird meat, again, of course. I hesitate, but ultimately don’t eat any more of the beans. I only have a handful left and I’m hoping that since they have only been dried, not cooked, they might actually grow. According to my new encyclopedia of plant knowledge, samova beans only take about four weeks to grow to flowering stage, and then another week after that to produce beans. Less than that in an Energy-dense area. I don’t know whether seven units per day counts as high or low Energy for an area, but I guess it’s worth a shot. I doubt these beans would grow on Earth at all.
Having paused for a short time, I suddenly realise that there’s a bit of a nagging feeling, like I’ve forgotten something, or that I need to check something. My brow furrowing, I think through my tasks for the day – what could I be forgetting? I concentrate on the feeling and am suddenly hit by inspiration. Opening my status, I see what the cause of the feeling is: I’ve got a new message.
Briefly taking note of the rise in my Energy accumulation – up to 17% - I mentally click on the message box and select the new message.
Congratulations!
You have worked hard on your Endurance and have earned a point. Would you like to apply this to your status?
Y/N
Hell, yes, I think, eagerly agreeing. A surge of energy goes through me and I see the five in my status screen next to Strength tick up to six. That makes me frown a little in confusion – I thought I got the point in Endurance? But then there is no Endurance in my status screen… I then also note that my stamina maximum has increased to thirty from twenty. Does that mean that Endurance is a sub-category of Strength? Well, I suppose it must be – being able to move and continue moving for a long time is primarily due to muscle conditioning, right? Then what’s the other sub-category? I guess there has to be one because my stamina went up by ten by adding a point, but I only have thirty stamina for six points. Force? Lift ability?
I also see something else which makes my frown deepen. My progress to the next level had been 17% before...now it’s 2%. Had upgrading my Strength/Endurance actually eaten into my progress? That settles it, I think grimly. I need to absorb the system lore stone next. But that will have to wait for tomorrow. For now, I need to keep going.
*****
It’s getting late. I need to choose a place to stop for tonight, but I still haven’t found anything promising in terms of shelter. I’m beginning to think that creating my own shelter is going to have to be my choice, but I haven’t quite given up yet. One more day, I figure. Tonight I guess it’s going to be another dead leaf shelter, if I can even summon up the energy to do that much – I’m tired. It’s been a long day of walking, being wary, and the odd fight or almost fight. In the afternoon, I was attacked three times – three times more than in the morning! If nothing else, it’s proof that the increasing Energy density – which my status screen attests to – also means increased density of creatures.
It’s at that moment that I realise I’ve stopped paying enough attention to my surroundings. The hairs stand up on the back of my neck and I freeze in place: in the last forty-eight hours I’ve learned to listen to my instincts. It’s fortunate I did – an ambush hits the spot where I would have been standing an instant later. The attacker comes close enough that I feel the brush of its whiskers on my slightly outstretched hand.
For one moment it feels like we’re suspended in time. I stare at the creature, and it stares back at me with golden, vertically slit eyes. I gain a sense of the creature in that snapshot of time and it’s one of the least reptilian I’ve come across so far. It actually looks rather like a big cat, a lion or tiger or something similar, but its nose is a bit more elongated and its tail is a plume of feathers. It also has wings, though they’re clearly not anywhere near big enough to fly with, only spanning about a foot or two in length where the animal itself is about three or four feet long. It has four legs, and mottled brown, beige, and black fur transforms into scaly, clawed legs and feet about halfway down. The claws are more reminiscent of a bird of prey’s than a cat’s, but the shape of the foot is clearly designed to run rather than grasp.
All that passes through my head in the unmoving instant when I am practically nose to nose with a predator which probably outweighs me, and is definitely stronger than I am. The moment passes and I whip my hand back to grab my knife as the raptorcat lunges towards me. At the same time as grabbing my knife, I dodge to one side, only just avoiding the bite. It’s almost not far enough, and the raptorcat manages to snag the edge of my jacket, even that unintentional yank almost pulling me off balance.
I gulp, seriously thinking about trying to run. The problem with that is that the raptorcat is probably faster than I am. As the raptorcat wheels about to launch another attack, I jab at it with my spear. The one-handed attempt is more than clumsy, but it makes the raptorcat flinch which gives me enough space to stab at it with my trusty knife. Unfortunately, I don’t hit it, but the attempt still makes it duck sideways.
I wheel around, backing away a bit, which helps me to mostly avoid its next lunge. Its teeth catch for a moment in my shirt and I take advantage to stab it in its eye. It lets go and backs away, shrieking loudly and I wince at both the piercing sound and in sympathy for the pain. In response to its cry, a series of snarls rumbles out...from the trees around me.
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My stomach dropping, I dare to dart a glance around me to either side since my opponent is currently crouched down and rubbing at its damaged eye with one foreleg, whimpering a bit. To my horror, I see five other shapes, only discernible from the trees around because I now know what I’m looking for. I’ve walked straight into a trap!
To hell with this – I’m not confident about my odds against one of these beasts. No way can I do anything about six of them. Frantically, my mind flashes through the – few – options which could possibly extricate me from this dire situation. I don’t want to die, a voice whimpers in my head. I growl at it mentally – much good the sentiment will do me now!
Then like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, I have the spark of an idea. It’s a chance...which is more than I could say about staying here. Backing away slowly from the approaching predators, I suddenly make a break for it when one of them looks like it’s about to leap at me.
Zig-zagging, dodging right, dodging left, and running all the way, I no longer feel exhaustion weighing down my limbs. No, instead they’re alight with fiery ants crawling under my skin at the thought of those horrible teeth sinking into me at any moment. My spear snags briefly on a bush I run past so I drop it rather than risk it slowing me down. It’s one weapon less, but it’s not going to do me much good against six of these predators.
Runrunrunrunrunrun! It’s all I can think about. The snarling beasts at my heels are getting closer. I don’t dare take my attention off the way ahead of me to see how close they are – in fact, I’m not sure I want to know – but I can tell from the sound of jaws snapping all too close to my precious body that they are entirely too close for comfort. It's only been a few seconds since I started running, maybe half a minute at the most, but if nothing changes, they're going to succeed in bringing me down within the next thirty seconds.
I leap over logs, dodge trees, avoid sliding in mud by the skin of my teeth...my terror gives my feet wings, but I know it can’t last. As if it had heard my thoughts, one of the beasts leaps forwards just a little faster and its teeth catch in the back of my shirt. Fortunately for me, it’s only barely, and when the beast yanks back, its teeth rip a hole in my clothes rather than tug me off my feet. It still makes me stumble a bit.
A new wave of cold fear goes through me and I manage to turn the slight stumble into a jink around a tree, but I’m already fading. I surpassed fear what feels like ages ago, my mind falling into outright panic, but somehow the terror in my thoughts still is able to kick up a level. I’m not going to make it: I’m out of breath, and even the adrenaline-fueled strength powering my limbs is running out. Where is it? My eyes frantically scan everywhere around me, looking for the only thing that could possibly offer me survival to see another dawn.
There! No sooner have I seen the hole between a tree’s roots than I throw myself towards it, hoping that it’s deep enough - and has no other occupant worse than the pack of raptorcats behind me. The entrance is tight, and I throw my knife forwards rather than risk it snagging and preventing me from moving. I have to wiggle and heave myself forwards to get my shoulders through, and then again to get my bum in. Of course, with the beasts so close at my heels, that means I don’t go unscathed.
I feel the agony of teeth closing in my flesh, and it’s only by applying my full strength that I tear myself free and succeed in pulling myself into the hole that’s barely bigger than my own body curled up. Of course, I leave a chunk of my leg behind, so I quickly cast Lay-on-hands three times in succession to stop the bleeding and start healing the wound.
The raptorcats aren’t going to let go of their prey so easily: a snarling head appears in the hole and snaps at me, its forelegs scrabbling at the ground. I snarl back at it, completely done for today and stab at it continuously with my knife. After gaining several wounds without even reaching its prey, the raptorcat backs off with an aggrieved growl. A new head takes its place and I repeat the same actions with the same result.
By the time three of them have backed off, and I guess one of the other three which are part of the same pack is the one I’ve already wounded, the group of raptorcats seem to give me up as a bad job. Pack? Maybe I should say ‘pride’ with how feline the creatures seemed to be based on my brief look. With some more angry noises, I hear the pride set off.
Even when it’s gone silent out there, I don’t move. First of all, the creatures have already proven themselves master ambushers – what’s to say that they’re not setting a trap for me now? Secondly, I’m not in a fit state to fight off any other attackers. There’s no way the predators of this god-forsaken world would pass up the chance to have a nice bloody and limping human for supper. Besides, this little space isn’t so terrible, and I did need a shelter….
In fact, I consider even making this into a more permanent one, but then decide against it. The fact that it hasn’t been claimed by something else indicates there’s a problem – in fact that’s why I didn’t investigate it earlier when I saw the hollow: I thought it might already have an occupant and had no desire to risk starting another fight. Besides, if it ever rains in this place, it probably floods. Still, it will do a good enough job for tonight.
After all that ‘excitement’, I just lie in the little burrow, recovering. I cast Lay-on-hands until my wounds heal, then take advantage of the time to drink a bit from my canteen and chew a few chunks of cooked meat – I need it to replace the blood I’ve lost. Not to mention needing the time to mentally recover from – once more – staring death in the eyes. While I lie there quietly, I decide that if I don’t find a place tomorrow which will make a decent shelter, I’ll give up and make one. Clearly I’m starting to get into areas which are too dangerous for me to venture into. Still, maybe I should make sure I’m not near raptorcat territory when I do choose a spot.
One bright spot, though – I’ve earned a point to Dexterity. Accepting the point means levelling-up is further away; gaining a point might mean the different between life or death if I meet another raptorcat tomorrow. Should I take it or not?