You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. You can do this.

He stood there frozen, preparing himself, steeling himself to do what is necessary. He takes a very deep breath. Tightly clutching his makeshift knife, he targets it at the poor creature before him, caught in a trap he set up. The creature looks confused for a brief a moment, stuck in a moment of shock, not moving a single muscle before realizing the danger it has stumbled upon. It is now running inside the hole he dug, looking for an escape, no doubt. After a few moments, it abandons the idea, as it frantically flails its arms upward towards the dirt, desperate to climb up. Witnessing the creature pathetically cling to its life drains him of the strength in his arm. He drops the knife in defeat and after a moment of silence kneels in front of the hole to pick up the furball, that was supposed to be his meal tonight...

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The creature evades his attempts to grab it at first, however he catches it within seconds. It quivers and shakes, yet it cannot escape his firm hands, despite the strength it lacks due to malnutrition. This creature is truly pathetic. An utterly pitiable existance.

After a moment of hesitation, he gently lowers his arm and places the animal on the ground. The moment his hand lets go, his victim escapes immediately, leaving the dejected predator alone to mull over the current situation.

"I guess, I will need to make do with some berries for tonight..." He sighs, dropping his arm to rest on his knees to gather his thoughts.

"I'm sure there are supposed to be some Pak-berries around this area." He resolutely thinks to himself before marching ahead.

He knows something has to change or otherwise, he will not last long. All alone here, he has no choice but to think of alternatives to gather the supplies he is running out of.

"Where have I found myself in?" A distraught voice rang out. Its sound was frail and sickly, revealing to him an easy target to attack. Those were his first thoughts. He was desperate, after all. However, that same voice didn't carry a single ounce of terror. Worse yet, the next words directed at him, uttered without a hint of hesitation, despite the appearance of the figure she is facing ...

"Oh, and who might you be, little one?"

...carried a warmth unlike any he ever heard.