Lucius collapsed suddenly.

Joey instinctively reached out to catch him but couldn’t fully support his weight. He managed to soften the fall, but Lucius still hit the ground hard.

"Lucius! Lucius!" Joey called out, his voice rising in panic. There was no response. Blood seeped heavily from the wound, now fully reopened, pooling around the area as Joey’s heart raced.

He hurriedly pulled back the torn fabric covering the injury and froze, horrified by what he saw.

The wound was deep, a vicious tear stretching from Lucius side to just above his hip, as though the massive tusk had sliced through layers of muscle like paper. The edges were jagged, raw, and oozing blood at an alarming rate. Joey could see the faint outline of bone near the edge of the gash, making it painfully clear just how severe the injury was. The dark red blood glistened in the dim forest light, the sheer volume of it making his stomach churn.

"Shit, shit, shit," Joey muttered under his breath, his voice trembling. His hands shook as he scrambled to think. Panic clawed at his mind, but somewhere deep down, fragments of what he had seen and heard over the years began surfacing. His hands instinctively moved toward Lucius pack.

Joey knew he wasn’t an expert, but growing up, he had picked up bits and pieces of knowledge about treating wounds. His mother, though often away for work, had occasionally shared stories of emergencies and basic medical knowledge. These snippets of information, combined with an unusual knack for retaining practical advice, began piecing themselves together in his mind. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give him a direction. He remembered how to clean a wound, stop bleeding, and secure a bandage, all the essential steps that, in a moment like this, could mean life or death.

Rummaging through Lucius pack, Joey’s hand closed around a roll of bandages. Nearby, he found a small flask. Unscrewing the cap, he sniffed the contents. The sharp scent of alcohol hit his nose. It wasn’t much, but it would have to do.

"Okay, okay, stay calm," Joey muttered to himself, his voice unsteady as he tried to keep his hands from shaking. He tore a strip of cloth from Lucius sleeve and soaked it in the alcohol. Carefully, he pressed it against the wound.

Lucius body jerked slightly at the contact, but he remained unconscious. Joey grit his teeth, knowing the alcohol would sting horribly if Lucius were awake. He wiped away as much blood as he could, trying to clean the wound before infection set in.

"This is bad... this is really bad," Joey murmured, glancing back at Lucius pale face. The blood loss was significant, and he wasn’t sure how much time he had to stop it.

Once the wound was as clean as he could manage, Joey began wrapping the bandages tightly around Lucius torso. He used as much pressure as he could without restricting his breathing. The blood continued to seep through the fabric, but at least it was slowing.

Joey’s movements were clumsy and far from perfect, but they were effective enough to stabilize Lucius for the moment. He secured the bandages with a knot and pressed his hand gently against them, applying extra pressure.

The forest around them was eerily quiet, the distant sounds of birds and rustling leaves fading into the background as Joey focused entirely on keeping Lucius alive. His mind raced, but he fought to keep his thoughts clear.

Looking down at Lucius, Joey felt a mix of fear and determination. He couldn’t let this be the end.

"I’m not letting you die here," Joey said firmly, though the tremble in his voice betrayed his fear. His hands pressed firmly against the bandages as his mind churned, searching for what to do next. He needed help. But first, he had to keep Lucius stable long enough to find it.

Joey scanned the area around him, his breathing steadying as his adrenaline sharpened his senses. He spotted long, sturdy branches nearby and an idea began forming. His mind flashed back to survival guides he’d watched as a teen and the quick makeshift fixes he’d seen in countless movies. It wasn’t ideal, but it would have to do.

Joey grabbed a thick branch and snapped it into manageable lengths with difficulty, his muscles straining against the unrelenting wood. He scoured the ground for vines and roots that could serve as bindings, his fingers working feverishly. Sweat dripped down his face as he wove the materials together, constructing a crude stretcher. Every second felt like a lifetime as he worked.

Lucius breathing was shallow, his face pale and strained. Joey knelt back down to tighten the bandages, and for a fleeting moment, he thought he saw a faint shimmer on the edges of the wound. His breath hitched as the glimmer drew his attention, subtly guiding him to press more firmly in specific areas.

"What the hell was that?" Joey whispered, but he shook his head, forcing the thought aside. Whatever it was, it seemed to help.

With the stretcher ready, Joey grunted as he heaved Lucius onto it, his body protesting every motion. The makeshift stretcher creaked under Lucius weight, but it held. Joey tied him down carefully, making sure he wouldn’t slip off as he began the long, grueling trek through the forest.

"I don’t know how, but I’m getting you out of here," Joey muttered, his resolve hardening as he gripped the stretcher handles and started to drag Lucius toward safety.

After taking some sips of the Water they brought with them, Joey looked down at Lucius. His chest rising and falling in shallow but steady breaths. The temporary bandages had held up, and though the situation was grim, it hadn’t worsened. Joey knew he couldn’t wait any longer to deal with the massive boar they had killed earlier.

Joey stepped cautiously toward the massive carcass, his breath hitching slightly as he fully took in its size. The beast lay sprawled across the forest floor like a fallen giant, its sheer enormity still difficult to grasp even after he had witnessed it in motion. Its tusks jutted out at alarming angles, stained faintly with traces of blood and dirt, and its hide was a fortress of thick, bristled fur and coarse skin. The coppery tang of blood mingled with the earthy scent of the forest, creating a pungent aroma that made Joey’s stomach churn.

He tightened his grip on the knife Lucius had brought along for the hunt. It was sturdy and sharp but felt pitifully inadequate against the mountain of flesh before him. "Alright, Joey," he muttered to himself, steeling his nerves. "Time to figure this out."

Crouching beside the boar, Joey surveyed its body. The dense, bristly fur gleamed dully in the waning sunlight, making it hard to discern where to start. His fingers brushed the rough surface of its hide, and he grimaced at its toughness. He decided to start with what seemed manageable. The softer underbelly. Sliding the blade in cautiously, he began to cut, his hands shaking slightly from both adrenaline and inexperience.

The first incision was awkward, the blade slipping against the fatty layer beneath the skin. He winced as a gush of blood seeped out, pooling around his knees as he worked. Joey gritted his teeth, pushing aside his discomfort. His cuts were clumsy and shallow at first, but determination drove him forward. He soon found a rhythm, though far from graceful. The knife slid through the fatty flesh, each stroke accompanied by a wet, tearing sound that made him cringe.

Joey had no formal training, just a rough idea from years of watching cooking shows and documentaries. His inexperience was evident. Large chunks of meat were mangled by imprecise cuts, and he accidentally left strips of valuable flesh hanging on the bones. He cursed under his breath as he realized how much he was wasting, but there was no turning back. "At least I’m getting something," he murmured, trying to reassure himself.

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The hide proved to be an even greater challenge. Joey turned his attention to it after he had collected as much meat as he could carry. He gripped the edge of the thick pelt and tried to slice beneath it, but the coarse fur and tough skin resisted him at every turn. His hands slipped several times, earning him shallow nicks on his fingers as he wrestled with the beast. Every stroke of the knife felt like a battle, and his frustration grew with each jagged tear he left in the pelt.

Sweat dripped from his brow, mingling with the blood on his hands and staining the cuffs of his sleeves. Despite his clumsiness, he managed to salvage a decent portion of the hide, though it was riddled with uneven edges and torn patches. Much of it was ruined by his inexperience, but the sheer size of the beast ensured there was still plenty to work with.

Joey stepped back to assess his work, his chest heaving with exertion. The salvaged meat, rich with fat, was piled on a large piece of hide he had spread out on the ground. It wasn’t perfect, but it was enough to sustain him and Lucius for days, maybe even weeks, if stored properly. The pelt pieces were less impressive, a patchwork of usable sections surrounded by shredded scraps, but Joey hoped they would still have some value.

"Could’ve done better," he muttered, wiping his hands on his pants and glancing at the remains of the boar. There was so much left behind, more meat, more hide, more everything. The thought of leaving so much behind gnawed at him, but he had no choice. Lucius survival came first.

Joey bundled the meat and hide as best as he could, securing them with strips of the pelt he had cut. The bundle was heavy, almost unbearably so, but he gritted his teeth and hoisted it over his shoulder. His arms burned from the effort, but he forced himself to keep moving. The day was fading fast, and he couldn’t afford to waste any more time.

He gave the carcass one last glance before turning away, the weight of the bundle pressing against his back as he trudged toward the makeshift stretcher where Lucius lay. "Sorry, big guy," Joey murmured to the fallen beast, his voice tinged with regret. "Wish I could’ve made better use of you."

Joey bent down to check on Lucius, his eyes scanning the tightly wrapped bandages. The bleeding had stopped, but Lucius pale face reminded Joey of how precarious their situation was. "Hang in there," he whispered, adjusting the stretcher straps around his shoulders. With one last glance at the forest ahead, Joey set off, dragging the stretcher behind him, his mind racing with thoughts of survival.

The forest floor was unforgiving. The thick underbrush tangled around Joey’s legs, and exposed roots turned every step into a challenge. The stretcher bumped and jostled despite Joey’s careful efforts, and he winced every time Lucius body shifted. His arms burned from the effort of dragging the stretcher over uneven terrain, and his back ached from the strain of pulling such a heavy load.

Joey’s breath came in labored gasps as he navigated a particularly dense patch of foliage. He had to stop frequently, his muscles trembling with exhaustion. Each pause was filled with the unsettling sound of the Forest. rustling leaves, distant bird calls, and the occasional crack of a branch somewhere in the shadows.

"Come on, Joey," he muttered to himself. "One step at a time. Just keep moving."

The sun sank lower in the sky, casting long shadows that stretched across the forest floor. As the light faded, the air grew cooler, and Joey’s worry deepened. Traveling in the dark was dangerous, but stopping too soon meant prolonging Lucius suffering. He had to find a balance.

When the light finally dwindled to the faint glow of twilight, Joey decided he couldn’t push any further. The forest around him was cloaked in deepening shadows, the towering trees casting long, jagged shapes across the uneven ground. Every step had become a Herculean effort, his body screaming for rest as the stretcher’s weight dragged at his shoulders and back. He found a small clearing, its soft bed of moss and sparse undergrowth providing a flat enough surface to set Lucius down. Gritting his teeth, he lowered the stretcher as carefully as his trembling arms would allow, his knees buckling slightly as he let go.

Joey stood over Lucius, panting heavily, his hands braced on his thighs. His muscles burned with the day’s exertion, and every breath felt like it might be his last. But the sight of Lucius lying motionless on the stretcher spurred him to action. Rest could wait.

"First things first," Joey muttered under his breath. He crouched beside Lucius, his fingers working with a gentleness born of desperation. The bandages were soaked through, dark with dried blood, but the bleeding had slowed. The tightly wrapped fabric seemed to have done its job for now. Joey pressed his hand lightly against Lucius chest, feeling the faint rise and fall as he breathed. It was shallow and uneven, but it was enough to bring a flicker of relief to Joey’s face.

"You’re hanging in there," he whispered softly, more to himself than to Lucius. The faint sound of his own voice in the quiet clearing felt oddly reassuring.

Joey straightened up, his eyes scanning the darkened forest for anything useful. He needed a fire, shelter, and food. He decided that the fire came first. The air was already growing colder, and without warmth, neither of them would last the night. Remembering Lucius earlier lessons, Joey moved methodically. He gathered dry branches, brittle leaves, and small sticks, careful to avoid anything damp or rotten. The sharp smell of decaying wood filled his nostrils as he worked, his hands scraping against bark and dirt.

With his gathered materials in hand, Joey returned to the clearing and knelt down. He dug a shallow pit in the soft earth, his fingers working quickly to arrange the stones he had collected in a rough circle around the edge. The effort was clumsy but functional, his movements guided more by instinct and fragmented memory than skill. Joey arranged the kindling in a pyramid shape at the center, layering the driest leaves and smallest twigs at the base.

From Lucius pack, he retrieved the flint and steel. His fingers fumbled with the tools, his inexperience showing as the first few strikes yielded nothing but faint sparks. Frustration bubbled up in his chest, but he forced himself to stay calm, his breaths coming slow and measured. On the fourth strike, a spark landed on the leaves, and a faint curl of smoke rose. Joey leaned in, cupping his hands around the tiny ember and blowing gently. The flame flickered to life, growing stronger with each careful breath.

As the fire crackled and spread warmth through the clearing, Joey sat back on his heels, letting out a long sigh. The soft orange glow felt like a barrier against the vast, consuming darkness of the forest. For the first time since Lucius had collapsed, Joey felt a sliver of hope.

Next, Joey turned his attention to shelter. The night would only get colder, and they couldn’t stay exposed. He scoured the area for sturdy branches, snapping them to size when necessary and carrying them back to the clearing. His pile grew steadily as he worked, each branch and stick chosen for its strength and size. Using strips of the boar’s hide as makeshift cordage, Joey lashed the branches together into a rough frame. The process was slow, his hands clumsy with exhaustion, but he pushed through, his focus sharpening with each completed section.

When the frame was ready, Joey draped the largest piece of the boar’s pelt over it. The hide was heavy and unwieldy, but its thickness would provide much-needed insulation against the chill. He secured it in place with more strips of hide, tying them tightly around the frame. Stepping back, Joey surveyed his work. The structure was crude and uneven, more of a lean-to than a proper tent, but it was stable enough to stay upright and would shield them from the wind.

Joey wasn’t done yet. He gathered the remaining pieces of the boar’s hide and spread them on the ground beneath the shelter, creating a rough but serviceable bedding area. The pelt was still stiff and damp in places, but it would be better than lying directly on the cold ground. He placed Lucius carefully onto the makeshift bed, his movements slow and deliberate to avoid jostling him.

"That’ll have to do," Joey muttered, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. His voice was thick with exhaustion, but there was a faint edge of pride in his tone. The shelter wasn’t much to look at, but it was functional, and for now, that was all that mattered.

With the fire crackling steadily and the shelter in place, Joey turned his attention to food. From the pack, he retrieved the provisions Lucius had brought along. Some few dried meats, hard bread, and a small pouch of herbs. Joey added some of the freshly salvaged boar meat to the mix, slicing it into thin, uneven strips with the knife. He worked quickly, his hands moving with a confidence born from years of cooking for himself.

He found a small metal pot in Lucius supplies and filled it with water from the flask. Setting it over the fire, he added the meat, bread, and herbs, stirring them together into a rudimentary stew. The aroma of the simmering broth filled the air, a comforting reminder of simpler times.

While the stew cooked, Joey busied himself with small tasks around the camp. He checked the knots securing the shelter, repositioned the firewood to keep it within easy reach, and hung smaller strips of the boar’s pelt near the fire to dry. Each movement was deliberate, his focus unwavering despite his aching limbs.

When the stew was ready, Joey let it cool slightly before scooping a small portion into a cup. He knelt beside Lucius, carefully supporting his head as he fed him small spoonfuls. The broth was thin and bland, but it was warm and nourishing. Between sips of water and bites of stew, Lucius color seemed to improve ever so slightly.

Joey sat back, his own bowl of stew cradled in his hands. The firelight danced across the clearing, casting long shadows on the trees. Despite the dire situation, there was a strange sense of peace in the moment. Joey allowed himself a brief smile, the warmth of the fire and the sound of Lucius faint breathing grounding him in the here and now.