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Wynter ducked out of the way and spun to face the murderous rabbit. Except, since when did rabbits come in the size of German Shepherds, have glowing red eyes, and a mouthful of teeth that would do a shark proud?
This time when it leaped at her, Wynter slapped it away. It came back, time and again. When her left arm grew tired she tried using her right and this time she mistimed the slap and it took a bite out of her shoulder and the paws clawed her chest and breast. Without a thought, she curled her hand into a fist and as she had with Sebastien she punched the rabbit.
“Ouch!”
The rabbit had gone flying away as she expected. What she hadn’t expected was the pain in her hand. Looking at the four ragged tears in the tough skin of her palm. Oh, yeah, the tutorial had said she had claws. She stretched her hand out and with a concentrated thought, her black fingernails extended out and became wicked black claws. The next time the rabbit jumped, her extended left claws caught it and spun the rabbit in the air. Her other hand striking in a swipe she somehow knew was right as she tore out the rabbit’s throat. Sinking to her knees as the adrenaline passed and the pain set in. The deadened emotions from the tutorial returning in full force. Anger, Confusion, Fear, Grief at a world murdered for some reason she didn’t know. She looked at the bloody mass that had been the rabbit and barely turned aside, trying to throw up the nothing that was in her stomach.
Wynter leaned back gasping as her vision cleared and her heaving stopped, she saw the small puddle of bile mixed with the red running from her shoulder. Pressing her hand the bleeding tears, she gasped as the pain spiked. She screamed in defiance, venting her frustration in a world gone awry, as the blood started matting her fur. Feeling a curious pressure building at the wounds, then exhaustion set in. She dropped her hand to look at the wound to see nothing but bloodstained fur.
Wynter crawled away from the body and curled up to sleep.
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Two rabbits wandered by. Seeing the furred figure sleeping they briefly considered taking their meal there. Smelling the blood of their kind all over the figure, they passed by. Instead, they turned and went to the nearby carcass.
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Wynter awoke in a dim forest. The sky still showing a few of the brighter stars through the canopy. Before she had a chance to sit up her stomach grumbled. A tiny icon flashing in the corner of her vision. She focused on the icon and was startled as it expanded to a block of scrolling text.
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
>You have been cast out of region 000 Core.
>You have entered region 004 Kansas (Forest)
>You have Dodged Rabbit T1
>You have deflected Rabbit T1’s attack
>You have learned Parry 1
…
>Your skill has increased! Parry 2
>Rabbit T1 hits for 16 damage
>You have killed Rabbit T1
>You have learned Health Reinforcement
>You have used Health Reinforcement! +15 HP
>You are suffering from Psychic Exhaustion
>You are no longer exhausted
Wynter looked in all directions, every direction was equally trackless. The sun was rising in that direction so that was east kinda? Picking up a stick as long as her forearm she looked at the leaf on one end,
“So, show me the way?”
She launched the stick up into the air.
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Wynter frowned as she took another bite of the raw rabbit. As easy as they were to hunt down now, she doubted she would ever get used to the taste.
She was no longer entirely sure just how long it had been since arriving in these forests. The stick had pointed west-ish but navigating with the trees blocking the sun was a task. That much made her smile, even with the gamy taste still in her mouth. Every task, every challenge brought either improved skills or entirely new ones. All day as she walked she used her [Reinforcement] just a bit at a time. Sharper senses, faster movement, just a constant trickle of power from her Psionic pool. She had been amazed to find she could see at night like it was twilight, which combined with her inability to sleep more than a little at a time had let her make great progress. Yay! Faster travel from nowhere, to nowhere.
Every day, less of the old Wynter remained. Vain and prideful, she had always had the best boy and girlfriends without really trying. Now, she was beginning to like the solitude.
Before the wilderness was something others did, even at cheer camp she only traveled into the forests when she had to. The trips with her Father had been quick in an out. Her idea of camping was in a nice RV. Now, she was spotting animal tracks with ease, taking her nap high in trees or deep in burrows.
Wynter had noticed that as long as she moved slowly and remained in a shadow that other creatures rarely noticed her as long as she remained downwind from them. She had found if she concentrated hard she could sense the locations of the deepest shadows nearby. Her preferred mode of travel was to quietly dash from shadow to shadow.
Moving lightly, her feet avoiding the twigs and dried leaves that used to crackle and crunch under her every step, she was gliding from shadow to shadow one day when rather than the usual deer she had seen at a distance, not five paces away was a stag and four does. These were so much bigger than any deer she had ever heard of, and they all had horns that gleamed like steel daggers. Wynter hunkered down just to watch them as they grazed. They seemed not to notice Wynter as she watched them. Suddenly, the wind shifted and the stag turned to face her and it bugled. The does didn’t flee as other deer might but moved to join the stag in a circle facing out.
Between one second and the next, the stag lowered its head and charged. How do you parry a wall of knives? Wynter just froze and wanted to be elsewhere, she really, really wanted to be elsewhere!
The dagger sharp points penetrated her skin with ease and then they were gone.
The stag pranced where the predator had been, then turned to return triumphantly to his does.