Dawn had barely whispered through the forest when Cal emerged from the underbrush, his silhouette sharp against the soft light. He adjusted the trap on his back, built from the tusk of the now dead hog.

Cal’s fingers traced the hilt of a knife at his side, his most reliable companion now that his gun was not functional. Jury was still out on Temp.

The blade remained his only real way to pierce the thick hide of a “first-stage” beast. He pondered whether it may be better to adjust to using this blade as a spear tip, but he hadn’t yet found a stick sturdy enough to withstand the punishment of a real fight.

Eyes narrowed, Cal scanned the horizon, his gaze never still, seeking the telltale rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig that would betray another beast's presence.

The forest held its breath around him at times, ancient trees towering like sentinels. Cal’s each step was deliberate, he advanced with the stealth of a predator, mindful of the crackle of dried leaves beneath his tread.

"Watchful," he murmured to himself, voice no louder than the faintest breeze swaying the treetops. His muscles tensed, waiting to unleash at the slightest provocation.

Cal had moved deeper into the forest's embrace, where light struggled to penetrate the dense canopy. He had mapped out this area before dusk the day prior, with the fresh chill of dew the only difference this morning.

This day was about the hunt, about the magic cores that pulsed with life somewhere within the verdant labyrinth.

"Come out, come out," he thought to the unseen prey, a challenge thrown to the cosmos. His imaginary shout was swallowed by the vastness, yet he knew the forest listened, its whispers soon to be drowned by the clash of hunter and hunted.

A rustle to his left. Cal froze, eyes darting towards the disturbance. There, a cluster of hogs rooted in the earth, their coarse fur glistening with dew. He crouched, watching them with the intensity. Their snouts dug greedily into the ground, searching for tender shoots and fungi, oblivious to the predator in their midst.

"Big ones. Temp, do you call them a cluster of hogs, or is it different like with crows – murder of hogs.” Cal mused, eyeing the largest of the pack, its shoulders broad, tusks curving like scythes. “Sounds about right."

It was the smallest one, though, that truly caught his attention – an outlier, limping slightly on its hind leg. "It looks like they are protecting the youngest. Do you think it is also stage-one?"

“I do not think so, Cal, but the remaining surely are. If they are anything like New Earth, I would say they are a team of hogs.”

Cal retreated a step, gaze never wavering from the murder – er, the team. Cal followed for hours until noon when he finally reached an area suitable for the trap slung across his back. Cal first thought about how it made him sound like a villain cutting down the poor hog team, but soon, Cal's thoughts wandered.

He wondered about Sari, about his failed mission. Was she alright, was she responsible for betraying him? He had no reason to suspect Sari, but he couldn't help wondering. Cal did not know, and he pushed it deep inside.

Cal played with the trap while he waited. It was a masterpiece of engineering and lethality… given his limited time and tools. It was perhaps the best on this world… not that many others would resort to using a spike trap.

“Cal, it really is quite a simple trap.”

“Heh. Temp, this is something you’ll learn soon enough. A good trap isn’t complex or overwhelming. It doesn’t even have to be obfuscated. A good trap works, whether the target knows they are walking into it or not.”

The trap was designed for simple creatures, so its apparent mediocrity would be sufficient.

Seeing a potential opportunity, he moved with purpose, setting the trap at the clearing's edge where the underbrush masked its presence. A spike trap made from the hog tusks, concealed by a weave of branches and leaves.

He exclaimed softly as he worked, marveling at his own ingenuity.

Cal anchored the trap with wooden spikes driven deep into the soil.

Temp was exasperated with Cal’s boasting, “It must look like nothing more than another patch of forest floor.”

After observing, Cal and Temp knew the hogs' sense of curiosity could be their undoing. Just a hint of something out of place and they'd investigate, drawn by an innate need to know their territory.

Another trap followed, this one a simple snare, positioned near a game trail where the earth was packed hard by countless hooves. The noose lay flat, hidden beneath a scattering of leaves, ready to tighten around a leg.

"Patience now," he breathed, stepping back to survey his work. To any creature, it would seem as though the forest floor remained undisturbed, the balance of nature intact. But Cal knew better. He understood the hunt, of what was to come. He now knew he needed to trap two at once, his previous hunts a seeming fluke – they traveled in pairs.

Satisfied, he found cover perched on a gnarled banyan tree, weapons at the ready. Now, it was a waiting game. Cal's silhouette merged with the shadows, his breath steady, almost part of the forest's quiet exhalations.

From his vantage point, he watched. The smallest sound could betray him, so he remained motionless, an observer waiting for the critical moment when observation would give way to action.

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A rustle.

A pair had strayed from their pack, a pair of chunky ones, their snouts twitching as they sensed something amiss. Cal's muscles tensed. Every sense was attuned to the beasts' movements; the slight crackle of leaves underfoot, the soft grunts they emitted, the damp earthy scent that drifted toward him.

Time stretched thin, a delicate thread waiting to snap.

The hogs ambled closer to the spike trap. One hog’s hooves nudging at the disguised edge. Cal's grip on his weapon tightened, just like his body. His pulse hammered in his ears, a rhythmic chant urging him onward.

"Come on," he thought, the words betrayed not a breath on his lips.

The hog paused, one step away from calamity. Cal stilled further, if possible, becoming nothing more than another statue in the forest's gallery. And then, with a clatter of stones and a muffled thud, the trap sprung.

Cal surged forth, every movement calculated, precise. He was the embodiment of survival, the fine line between hunter and hunted. This was not his world, but it would play by his rules.

The trap sprang true, a snap of bone and sinew. Cal leapt from his hiding spot, his movements a blur against the backdrop of the dense forest. With a quick burst he knocked the second hog into the second trap to hold it in place.

With his blade gleaming in the slanting afternoon light, he plunged it into the first hog with clinical precision. The beast's agitated screech from stepping into the trap gave way to a guttural cry as Cal’s blade sliced through the air. Cal quickly withdrew the shimmering organ with Temp’s precise instructions, its arcane light pulsing between his fingers and moved towards the second hog.

The second hog squealed as its partner was mercilessly cut down, the semblance of fear emerging in its eyes. But trapped and upside down, it was easy pickings for Cal as he dispatched it quickly.

Tranquility shattered as the underbrush erupted in fury. Cal's head snapped up; the remaining hogs had caught wind of their fallen kin. He was a shadow among the trees, an intruder marked for retribution.

A set of four hogs charged, tusks glinting like ivory daggers, eyes red with vengeance. Twigs snapped beneath their weight.

"Goddess be damned," Cal spat out, darting aside. A tusk grazed his thigh, ripping fabric and flesh. Pain flared, but he pressed on, his focus never wavering. Another lunged, saliva flying from its maw, close enough to taste. Cal dove, rolled, and came up running. His breaths were ragged staccato beats in the chase's frantic tempo.

"Keep moving," he urged himself, fresh hog blood warming his exposed skin. They were relentless, but so was he. A leap over a fallen log, a sharp turn by the ancient banyan — Cal twisted through the woods, a living thread weaving through nature's loom.

The hogs’ loud snarls filled the air, a cross between funeral dirge and war cry, but he was quicker. A well-aimed kick and jump sent a jumping beast staggering, buying precious seconds. Cal didn't look back, couldn't afford to. He had to survive, had to—

Escape. He broke through a final barrier of foliage and backtracked up and around an accessible treetop perch into a silent crouch. The hogs' roars fading into the whispering leaves ahead of him. Safe, for now, Cal slowed, his relatively shallow wounds making themselves known with every heartbeat. He assessed the damage: minor cuts, nothing fatal.

He breathed, a smile touching his lips. He briefly touched the two small organs in his pockets – satisfying reminders of his small victories. He took them out and started absorbing the energy, giving him a rush of power and stamina.

+2 strength, +2 vitality, Temp tracked.

Cal crouched low and backtracked back towards his traps and the two fallen hogs. The forest around him felt exposed and clear.

"Focus," he muttered to himself, pushing the eerie clarity to the back of his mind. His piercing blue eyes scanned the dense underbrush, hunting for signs of his quarry. Every sense was alert, every nerve stretched taut as bowstrings. Call nimbly dissected an additional two pairs of tusks and retrieved his sprung trap in preparation for a follow-up ambush on the hog herd.

He moved onto a secondary ambush point, footfalls light upon the mossy floor. A snap here—a shadow there—clues laid out like breadcrumbs. Cal's mind worked in tandem with the landscape, his adaptability parsing through patterns of danger and opportunity.

Cal rested to recover some additional vigor and the forest seemed to breathe alongside him, but Cal shook his head. Tricks of the mind held no sway over the hunt and Cal narrowed his gaze.

Cal waited impatiently, he had beasts to hunt, cores to collect. Nothing else mattered.

A peak into the clearing up ahead presented promises of prey. Cal edged forward, his lean frame slipping between trees. He paused, breath held, as shapes materialized and moved towards his trap — more hogs, perhaps the same ones that had chased him.

He watched them, noting the rhythm of their movements, the twitch of an ear, the flick of a tail. Knowledge was power; Cal knew this well. Each detail sharpened the blade of his intent, honed the edge of his strategy.

He planned his steps and reminded himself of his purpose. The traps were reset, and he would not be careless. Each snare was placed with precision, masked just enough to pique their curiosity.

Back to cover, he waited.

One hog neared a trap, its snout rooting at the earth. Cal was ready to act. Heart racing, he counted the seconds, measured the distance. Three more followed suit.

Two were trapped. Now.

The trap sprung. Blood sprayed in concert with the beast's cry. One hog was killed instantly and a second was maimed. Cal lunged from his hiding spot, weapon in hand, a streak of movement against the stillness instantly ending the wounded hog’s life. A follow-up slash uncovered the pulsing organ, and Cal reached to pick it up.

Without realizing, a hog charged him from the side, “Cal pay attention – immobilize the other two first!”

Cal picked himself up after narrowly dodging the hog’s tusks. He was nonetheless flung away from his ambush site. Cal's grip on the magical core tightened as he rolled to a stop, jarring pain rippling through his body. He spat out a mouthful of blood.

For months, he'd trained himself to adapt to any situation, to push his body further than he ever thought possible. But this was different, "I can take them."

"Cal! Snap out of it, run!"

He forced himself to stand, bones creaking and muscles aching. The world spun as he tried to gather his bearings, the forest a blur of green and gold. Cal shook his head, trying to clear the dizziness. Temp was right, he needed to escape. He needed to hide.

The remaining hogs charged at him, tusks glistening with bloodlust. Cal dodged letting his reflexes guide him. He lunged forward, dodging the hogs' attacks and falling into the bushes. He had chosen this location because it had an easy option for escape.

Unfortunately, this option was also painful - he passed the bushes while jumping and rolling down a steep hill. His body ached and he was winded, but Cal reasserted his caution. He scanned the area, looking for a safer hiding spot.

Cal spotted the hollowed-out tree trunk he had identified earlier at the bottom of the hill. It was the perfect hiding spot, providing cover and a way to climb up once the hogs grew tired of searching. He limped towards it, keeping low and quiet.

The hogs had followed his trail, and as he reached the inside of the tree, he could hear them snorting and pawing at the ground nearby. He sat inside, panting and sweating, but shook himself, steeling his resolve. Cal slowly gripped the bark and began to climb, using his muscle memory. His head throbbed, trying to settle while catching his breath. He reached the top and settled in.

The spot was hard to reach, and he would be safe tonight.