I'm not going to claim to be the most in shape man ever, but I have to admit I didn't expect that hiking a couple hours would wind me quite this much. Now that I took a few minutes to rest, both my feet and legs feel somewhat sore. There's no way I can sustain the same pace all afternoon. I better focus on finding a spot for the night somewhere close to the water and I'll look for food tomorrow.

We don't know how high up we are, maybe the oxygen is scarcer, or maybe gravity is slightly stronger on this planet than on Earth.

Uh. I would notice that wouldn't I? Actually, it's weird that this place doesn't feel that different from Earth in terms of habitability. The air feels really pure but it felt similar whenever I visited the Alps, it's a mountain air thing.

And probably less contaminated.

The midday sun is hammering down on my head so I make a makeshift hood with my shirt as I start walking uphill, following the thick brambles. It doesn't take long before I get a glimpse of running water, the stream is really tiny, a soundless trickle that doesn't have the slightest start of a riverbed : basically just some water squeezing through the rocks. It's still surrounded by brambles – where are your blackberries you stupid bushes?– but I can probably make my way through the unpleasantness, I'll just break those stems one by one.

…

It's hard to find the words to describe how frustrating it is to try to break a stalk that's not even a centimeter wide, and just see it bend and bend and bend. As I fight with little success, the spines have multiple chances to show me just how far from being soft they are. They effortlessly rip through my skin. It's just a scratch obviously, but a bit of a nasty one.

All those effort for a barely noticeable, slightly hurt area on the stalk.

I do end up finding a solution : carefully holding the thorny stems to the rocky ground with one hand, I begin smashing it with a rock and the pincer attack slowly cuts through. It takes a minute as the offensing vegetable tries its best, but there’s no resisting this. Adapt and overcome said the Status, just watch me. The inner part of the stalk is decidedly plant-like at least, it's a yellowish green with some clear sap that doesn't stick too much.

Good job, you beat an immobile bush. Just a few dozen stems to go!

Damn Bob, what's up with the sassy tone? I thought you were my friend.

Hey, I don't get to move, I was a bit bored is all.

I see you didn’t protest, congratulations Bob, it’s now your official name.

What? Hey, that’s mean!

I'm skipping some, but lets just say that the good thing with mental conversation is that it's great filler while chopping rubbery stalks with a blunt stone. After some time bickering about the naming situation, we did have the idea of crafting some kind of whip of thorns from these. It probably won't be very impressive, but the potential to make a weapon unpleasant enough to chase things away is certainly there.

Hopefully.

It takes me about half an hour of hard work before I've cleared enough of the brush to easily access the stream and finally gulp down some fresh water. At this point it's useless worrying about its cleanliness, I'm obviously not getting anything else.

It’s delicious anyway, best water of my life.

There’s a nice safety criteria. “Tastes good”.

I can't help but grin slightly when I rise up and walk a couple steps back. I sure showed that stupid bush who's the boss here.

Time to find a decent place to rest in the vicinity then.

That's when I notice the wolf that had been watching me.

I’m immediately drawn to its yellow eyes, they are big, and slit horizontally. It’s glaring at me from just a few steps away – maybe twenty meters, less than thirty for sure – and my blood starts pumping like crazy as adrenaline spikes.

Hm, actually, the beast seem more cautious than aggressive, slightly hunched down and not showing its teeth, but it feels dangerous.

I guess this is what it takes for me to truly realize that my life is on the line. If I die mauled by a beast and eaten while agonizing, not only it will hurt a lot, but then I'll remember it all until I die for real.

I think we should strive to avoid such a fate.

Yes, we should.

If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

Seeing me tense up, the wolf hunkers down slightly with a low growl. From what I can tell, it is a lot like a wolf from earth, it has a rather thick fur with different shades of black and a yellowish grey, not quite in stripes but close. Must be good camouflage in the forest. It has a long nose and long ears, one of which seems partially torn from a rather fresh wound – it’s still bloody – and hangs down lifelessly. I can't really tell but it doesn't seem too big to me, somewhere between forty to fifty kilograms, and barely bigger than a meter high. However, it's currently quite obviously kicking up its fight or flight reactions into high gear, its fur puffing up while its gaze sharpens.

I have honestly no idea what I'm supposed to do but it doesn't seem very confident, it's alone and I'm twice it's size and weight afterall. What is it even doing here, aren't wolves supposed to hunt at night rather than during the day?

It's got to be here for the water right? Lets just scare it a bit and walk away!

Right. I quickly crouch and grab one of the severed stalks littering the ground all around me. The sharp thorns hurt my hand but I'm back to standing in a flash. The wolf crouched down even lower in reaction to my quick move, carefully evaluating, ready to pounce.

“YAAAHH!"

Pounce away that is. I yell as loud as I can, while rising up as high as my full 1m75 frame can go, and smashing the stalk into the ground. – the noise from that wasn't very satisfying because the leaves caught the air, slowing it down a fair bit. – It qualifies as a decent 'Whoosh' sound I guess.

All that aggressive movement definitely gives it a good scare, it’s eyes widen in fright. It turns tail and darts back a good twenty meters towards the forest before stopping and turning back to watch me.

Successful intimidation roll!

I toss a rock its way for good measure (missed) but I'm obviously not going to give chase. That thing had 6 legs, what the hell. That's just an unfair advantage, basically a wolf-sized ant!

Pretty sure it was limping though, wasn't it?

Ants are super scary! They run really fast, they can lift much more than their own weight, and they don’t care that they die!

Almost nobody pays attention to them cause they are tiny, but anything that remotely counts as a giant ant is not something I want to deal with.

It stopped and it’s warily observing me still. Waiting for me to leave perhaps. Well, I'm obviously the dominant one here, neither the bushes nor the wolf-ant can face me!

I take my time to gather good stalks to build a pair of nice whip, take another drink, and then I move away, up the mountain some more, following the stream while watching my foe. Not that I'm afraid of a little wolf or anything.

It follows but keeps its distances. It really is limping, looks like it has a broken leg on its left flank. Uh, poor thing. Eventually, it reaches the entry I've cleared towards the stream and goes in there after sniffing the air. I keep walking up, carefully observing to not miss it when it walks out. It does so pretty quickly, checks in my direction then moves back, apparently satisfied that I'm really leaving. I see it move out again a minute later and make it’s way back down towards the forest, tail between the legs.

I find a good spot to sit down and craft an half decent whip out of the small bundle of stalks I've been carrying. An almost flat rock with some shadow from a large boulder. We're past noon now so while the sun was really heating up my back while I was walking, it's ever so slowly going down.

I consider making two of them but there is no way that it's going to be practical carrying them around. Just the one is already quite unwieldy. Maybe once I’ve secured shelter.

The longest part of making my new weapon was removing the thorns from the thin stalk that serve as the rope to keep the bundle a coherent whole. Still, the whole process barely took an hour, and I've crafted a fairly decent looking multi-thong whip. Seems that the System agrees because I get a new notice.

Trait formation notice : Makeshift Crafter (-) 1%.

Oh oh, well, lets see this one in detail.

Makeshift Crafter (minor)

You've assembled a bunch of trash, and made an ‘item’ of very poor quality. It is usable though, at least for a short time, and this Trait reflects your talent in such endeavors. This trait helps you see components in mundane things to create unexpected combinations.

This Trait is in its forming stage, its effect is reduced (1%).

This Trait is in its forming stage, making it more likely to be lost.

This Trait resonates with your Adaptable Traits, it will grow slightly faster than usual.

I honestly can't tell if the system is taunting you or congratulating you right now.

Oh, suddenly, it's you, not us. Interesting. Please don’t overwhelm me with support, dear voice in my head.

Hey, you're the driver. This magnificent and beautifully crafted weapon is all you.

I smile at how fake his boot-licking sounds. How can you betray me like this Bob, my heart hurts and my soul weeps from such treachery!

He actually chuckles – well, the mental equivalent of a chuckle –, and I can’t help but do the same.

Do you think we can get a melodramatic trait if we keep this shit up?

We shall try my friend, we’ll call upon us the attention of the machine god and ascend to new highs of power and drama!

In a much better mood, I grab my weapon and set out to find a good spot to rest, ignoring the messages my empty stomach is sending.