GREEN
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5993 32.9 KB 560
5993 32.9 KB 560
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>You pull on the last tie-down strap, securing the last crate into its place on the sled.
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>You take in a deep breath of the crisp cool air as the gust carries through the narrow valley.
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>The coniferous trees lining the steep hillsides sway with its passing, contributing a thin dusting of snow onto the ground.
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>It feels good to be back.
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>The train horn bellows in the distance, signaling its long journey back south to the warmer lands of Equestria proper.
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>You had been the only passenger.
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>Why they run empty trains will forever elude your sense of reason, but its convenient for you - little reason to question.
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>Even the station at the end of the line was abandoned.
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>The windows had long since been shattered, and the wood on the train deck was warped and twisted.
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>Not even the occasional loggers rode up at this time of year.
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>It didn't bother you though, You loved the escape from civilization.
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>A small smile spreads across your features as you double check the tie downs.
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>You've been waiting all year to take this trip
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>You needed it too
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>All the usual bullshit in Canterlot has been really getting to you lately.
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>You step back to take a visual inspection of you packing.
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>Everything looks secured in place.
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>You'd opted for a larger sled this year.
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>It's a custom build cargo sled, easily the size of a small truck trailer.
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>The back of the sled rises up to a bench.
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>You check the last component - A small purple gem set in a crystal globe, which itself is set into the stylized front.
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>You twist the globe clockwise and it turns in place as the small gem begins to softly glow.
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>Good, it's still working.
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>You checked before loading it on the train, but you can never over prepare.
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>You grab the ropes hanging in front of the sled, and give them a gentle tug.
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>The sled pulls forward gently through the fresh snow with minimal effort.
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>Featherweight enchantment... god damn magic is awesome.
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>There is no way you could pull this much weight on your own.
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>You couldn't convince any ponies to come on this journey and pull anyway, not that you wanted to.
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>There is a reason you make this trip alone.
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>You run a hand through your hair and scratch your beard.
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>Its already starting to collect snow.
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>You gaze up into the small mountain pass to the north of the station.
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>Another deep breath... and you feel as ready as you'll ever be.
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>Except one last thing.
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>Walking back to the rear compartment, you run your hand over the iron-bound ornate chest tucked under the wide bench.
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>Fishing an iron key out of your pocket, you insert the key into the lock, and twist it open.
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>The lid opens with ease, revealing the most valuable of possessions that you decided to bring with you.
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>Your sword, which you draw a short length to test the sharpness with a thumb before securing it to your side.
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>A dagger to accompany the sword.
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>The hunting bow and quiver of arrows, which you set aside to sling over your shoulders later.
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>Last but certainly not the least, the fur parka and clothing.
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>You tended to keep that hidden from ponies.
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>They weren't too comfortable with the idea of wearing the skin of another animal.
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>You got the fur from some minotaur traders many years ago, and mentally shelved the idea that it might have come from a sentient creature.
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>You later learned that minotaurs commonly trade such goods.
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>And yes, the irony of bipedal cows trading leather and furs was not lost on you.
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>Equestria did have a certain way of introducing moral considerations to things you wouldn't have considered twice back at home.
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>You figured if it was something sentient: it was already dead, you didn't kill it, and it keeps you from dying.
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>It might be caribou leather, and you had yet to even see one, or ask anypony if there were sentient caribou.
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>brushing the thoughts aside, you trade your typical southern clothing for the much more insulating winter cloth.
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>If you had a mirror you're sure you'd look just like a mountain man.
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>It's almost too much, you might start sweating once you start pulling the sled.
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>You begin walking up to the front of the sled to begin your long journey when something catches your attention out of the corner of your eye.
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>One of the crates has something hanging out of the side of the lid.
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>Looking closer, you see that it looks like...
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>Dark olive hair...
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>Or rather, a mane...
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>no...
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>NO!
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>It better fucking not be!
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>With a frustrated grunt, you tromp over to the crate and pop open the lid to be greeted by a pair of large orange eyes.
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>"Hey Anon."
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>God fucking damnit.
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"Laska, what the sam fuck are you doing!?"
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>laying inside the crate amongst various goods is a pink earth pony.
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>A certain pony that you are very well acquainted with.
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>She flinches slightly at your outburst, but still maintains a smile.
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>"Going on an adventure, of course!"
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"The hell you you are."
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>"But-"
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>You grab her by the armpits and lift her out of the crate and onto the ground."
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"No buts, I told you you're not coming!"
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>Dozens of times, actually.
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>She gives you the token pony-puppy eyes, but they stopped working on you a long time ago.
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>"Come on! Why wont you let me come?"
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>She stomps a front hoof on the ground.
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"Because it's dangerous."
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>"Dangerous, AND alone? All the more reason to come!"
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>She kinda had a point, but you ignore it.
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"You're much too young..."
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>She seems offended, and protests.
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>"I'm sixteen! pretty much a grown mare!"
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>You let out a long-drawn sigh, rubbing your forehead with your fingers.
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>This can't be happening.
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>The train is already long gone.
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>Any chance to send her back has passed.
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>And there is no way in hell you're going anywhere else but to your destination.
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>But you can't take her.
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>You don't want to open that can of worms.
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>You also can't leave her here.
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>She has no sort of survival skills, and that would be fucked up anyway.
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>You care about her way too much for that to even be a consideration.
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"You're probably going to be grounded forever."
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>She squeaks giddily.
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>"I left my parents a note, so it should be ok!"
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>She hops in place like a giddy filly.
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>"Like you said that one time: It's easier to ask for forgiveness than permission!"
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>You did say that once.
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>And now its returned to bite you in the ass.
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>"I won't be trouble, I promise! I'll do everything you ask!"
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>Damn right she will.
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>You're going to regret this.
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"Fine... you've already made it this far."
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>She squees in excitement
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>"Adventure, here we come!"
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>You sigh, moving to the front of the sled to grab the ropes, lazily waving a hand at the sled.
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"Walk or ride, your choice."
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>She hops onto the sled and sits in the middle of the bench.
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>"You can really pull this thing by yourself? I always thought you were strong, but not that strong!"
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>You turn back and point at the inset gem.
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"I get a little help."
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>She mouths an "ah" but doesn't say anything.
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>You also can't help but notice she actually packed.
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>At least she has some insight.
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>She's wearing a gaudy purple winter coat with a scarf, and packing a set of loaded saddlebags.
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>You don't think that dinky coat will keep her warm, but you have blankets if she needs them.
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>With the rope fastened to each of the two front corners of the sled, you pull it up from the ground, running perpendicular across your lower waist.
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>You pull the rope taut, using a smaller rope to fasten it to your body.
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>You walk forward, with the magic of the gem making the sled feel like only a minor inconvenience as it glides across the snow.
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>It ain't stupid if it works.
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>Magic can be pretty kick-ass at times.
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>You begin pulling the sled through the wooded trail that leads up into the mountain pass.
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>Laska doesn't talk, and the few times you look back she simply watches the passing scenery.
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>You don't mind the quiet, taking in the wild nature around you.
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>Winter is almost here, though in these parts it starts a little early.
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>It's not cold enough to see your breath and you can still see patches of shrubby and green along the way.
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>All its gonna take is one good storm through here, and it will be a true winter wonderland.
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>You sigh contentedly, it really does feel good to be back out here.
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>Even with a certain pony's antics.
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>"Anon... I'm sorry."
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>You stop walking, and turn back to face her.
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>She sighs.
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"Sorry?"
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>"I'm sorry I snuck onto the train and hid in your crates."
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>You smirk a little to yourself, and do your best to hide it.
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>"I know you said I can't come, but you say that every year, and I've always wanted to come..."
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>Her head hangs low.
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>"I just wanted to see it so bad. You let me come on trips with you before, but not this one."
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"Well, a weekend trip to Manehatten isn't even remotely in the same ballpark."
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>"Yea..."
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>She sniffles
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>"I... I just get so bored, and you go on so many adventures... I just want to go on an adventure too..."
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>Oh no, please don't do the crying thing.
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>"But I didn't want to make you mad..."
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>She did make you mad.
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>Borderline furious, actually.
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>You step up to the front of the sled.
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"Come here."
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>You open your arms wide to invite her for a hug, and she quickly accepts the invitation, hopping off the bench and moving quickly to the embrace of your arms.
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>A few sobs escape her as she snuggles into your chest.
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"Yes... I am a bit upset. I wont lie."
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>A few more sobs.
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"But... I can't stay mad forever. I think I'm getting over it already, actually."
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>You let out a chuckle, and she lets out a small forced one in reply.
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>You run your fingers through her mane, scratching her scalp with your fingernails.
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>She always liked that, it usually calms her down.
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>"T-thanks Anon."
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>She looks up to you with watery eyes, but smiling.
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>You reciprocate.
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"Come on, we've got a lot of ground to cover, and we're on a bit of a schedule. Don't want to miss the winds."
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>"Winds?"
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"You'll find out when we get there."
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>You set her back down into the sled, and prepared to keep moving.
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>You weren't lying, you were on a schedule.
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>Not a super-strict-twilight-esque schedule, but one just the same.
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>Laska seemed to feel much better after your little talk, opting to walk along side the sled instead of riding.
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>She would even occasionally stop to pick herbs along the forest trail.
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>"Look Anon! more red amantias!"
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>You roll your eyes as she rushes over to pick the red and white speckled mushrooms with her mouth, tossing them into her saddle bags.
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>"A key ingredient in the production of restorative potions and salves, though it doesn't grow naturally in Equestria. They have to grow it in green houses. I thought we'd find some, but I didn't think there would be so much!"
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>You shrug.
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"Yea... not many ponies picking in these parts, so everything is plentiful."
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>For the longest time you never thought she would get a cutie mark in herbalism of all things.
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>You're not sure why you felt that way, she was adopted by the royal apothecary after all.
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>With all the time she spent enjoying the gardens, her love of plants should be no surprise.
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>Fate and cutie marks have a strange relationship.
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>You laugh to yourself as she bounces between patches that have yet to be buried in snow, filling her bags to the brim.
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>Sometimes she falls a little bit behind, but you walk at a pace that allows her the chance to catch up.
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>Will she even get a chance to use all of these?
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>Probably not.
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>Using your hand to shield your eyes, you check the sky for the position of the sun.
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>Almost directly overhead.
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>"Oof!"
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>You look over as Laska trips over her mane while trying to pick more herbs.
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>You chide her in amusement
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"When are you going to cut that mane? It must be hitting your knees by now."
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>"Never."
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>She pokes her tongue out at you, and you stick yours out right back.
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"Watch out with that whole 'Dork' thing - I'll just beat you with experience."
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>She pokes her tongue again, and picks another herb from the patch.
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>You roll your eyes and put your attention back on the trail.
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>This is perfect, as long as you keep this pace you should arrive early.
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>As you climb further into the hills, the tree cover becomes thicker.
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>Combine that with the gradually setting sun, and the world begins to become much darker.
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>And the cold starts to settle in.
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>And then you hear it - the faint howl of a wolf in the distance.
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>Laska hears it too, and she shrieks as the sound sends chills up her spine.
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>"W-what was that?"
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>She rushes to your side, holding onto your leg.
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>You didn't want to answer, because you know exactly what it was.
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"Frost Wolves."
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>Laska looks up at you, concern dominating her features.
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>"F-frost wolves? There are wolves here?"
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>You nod.
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>Another howl echos in the distance.
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>And its noticeably louder.
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>Closer...
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>Shit.
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>Without thinking, you pick up Laska with one arm, and walk over to the crate she had been hiding in earlier.
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>You pop open the lid and gently place her inside.
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>"Anon, I'm scared."
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"Good. You should be. It means you have a good head on your shoulders."
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>You scan the woods for signs of life, but see none.
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>You still have time.
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"Laska, listen to me very carefully."
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>You cup one of her cheeks in your palm, making sure you have her full attention before continuing.
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"If something happens to me, You need to stay in this crate as long as you can, alright?"
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>She doesn't respond, and you continue anyway.
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"As long as you have food and water. If you run out, you need to take the sled back to the train station, alright? There should be enough supplies in the crates for you to wait for the next train."
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>She starts trembling.
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>"B-but, w-hat..."
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"Promise me you can do that, ok?"
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>She hesitates, then nods, her eyes glistening with tears.
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>"Please don't leave me."
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>You half smile
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"I don't plan on it. That's just the plan B, ok?"
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>She sobs.
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>You gently close the lid, making sure the lid is reasonably snug, but still able to be opened from the inside.
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>You fish your key back out of your pocket, opening the valuables chest at the back of the sled.
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>Grabbing the sash of vials, the chain mail hauberk, and the iron helm, you trudge back up to the front of the sled.
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>You briefly remove your parka to work your way into the chain mail.
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>It's extremely uncomfortable without a gambeson, but your options are limited by time.
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>You put your parka back on over top, and tie the sash with vials across your chest.
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>The last resort.
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>You place the helm on your head.
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>Heavy and cold.
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>You begin pulling the sled forward with one hand, your other hand resting on the grip of your sword as you move the sled forward along the frozen path.
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>The going is much slower than the leisurely pace you had taken before.
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>The air is getting colder.
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>Unnaturally frigid.
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>They're getting close.
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>Actually, you hope its not more than one
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>You grab a flint and steel, lighting one of the many torches you had packed with the supplies, holding it in the same hand that you held onto the sled rope.
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>Your eyes scan the darkening forest, scanning for hints of what you know is coming.
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>You wait for the signal...
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>There!
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>The brief glint of frost brushes across your face.
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>Now!
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>You draw your sword with an almost unnatural haste.
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>But instead of drawing the blade out, you strike forward with the pommel.
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>You grunt with the effort of the attack, and you strike solid.
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>The gust of frosty air whips around you.
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>You couldn't even see what you struck, but you check the pommel of your sword.
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>It's covered in a viscous blue substance.
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>You know what it is - Blood of a Frost Wolf.
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>Dropping the rope of the sled, you chuckle to the woods, stepping out ahead on the path with torch in one hand, sword in the other.
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"It must be your first time, feeling your own blood spilled."
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>You taunt the woods through gritted teeth.
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>The adrenaline is already ramping up.
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>It's about to be a fight for your life.
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"Are you truly that weak, COME ON!!"
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>You shout, the last syllable echoing through the snow capped peaks.
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"SHOW ME WHAT YOU GOT!"
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>Careful, don't let yourself get carried away.
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>Watch for the eyes, the blue orbs.
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>They are practically invisible when moving through the snow.
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>It's what makes them so dangerous.
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>The only thing you can see are the eyes.
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>Like a pair of floating lapis lazuli.
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>Watch, wait, react...
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>There!
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>You see them coming, but its too late.
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>The jaws of a massive white wolf lunge at you with, teeth glistening with anticipation.
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>It's as if they came out of the snow itself.
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>You don't have nearly enough time to move, and the jaw clamps down on your sword arm.
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>It hurts like hell, but the sleeve of the chain mail absorbs the brunt of the bite.
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>You swing with the torch at the head of the creature, but it releases its grip and retreats back to the cover of the snow before you can strike it.
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>In a wisp of snow-laden air, the wolf is already gone, back into the embrace of the snow.
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>You grunt in pain, keeping your eyes peeled on your surroundings, waiting for the next attack.
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>They fear the flame because they are vulnerable to it.
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>Thank god you spent enough time reading about this shit in the Canterlot Archives.
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>You don't think you're bleeding, but that is for sure gonna leave a nice big bite-shaped bruise.
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>You're not sure how more of those you can take.
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>You feel a rush of air from behind.
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>You turn to face it, swinging your sword in a wide chopping motion underneath your other arm, hoping to catch something.
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>The wolf was going for a body shot, but missed you entirely.
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>Of course that also meant that you missed it as well.
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"Ha... you're losing your touch..."
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>You taunt the whiteness again, swinging your torch.
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"I'll have you know you're not the first frost wolf I've killed. You won't be the last either."
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>You swing your sword haphazardly to your side.
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"I think your pelt will make a nice cape."
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>It really would, actually...
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>You catch the eyes again, and you're ready for it this time!
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"Yes!"
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>You prepare a jab at the incoming orbs, but they retreat before even attempting another attack.
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>You feel a set of jaws instead clamp onto your leg.
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>Seeing as your legs are currently unarmored, the teeth easily break the the skin, sinking into the flesh below.
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>You yelp in pain, instinctively swinging the torch at the offender.
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>It retreats before being struck, and another set of jaws bites onto the arm holding the torch.
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>Oh, fuck!
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>There's more than one!
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>This one grips onto you tightly, attempting to pull you down.
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>Another one bursts from its snowy cover, colliding into your side and knocking you down into the snow.
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>The snow does little to brace your fall, and you land painfully on your chest, scraping yourself in too many places to keep track of.
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>Before you can roll over, a wolf is already on your back, snapping at your neck.
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>You can barely move under its weight, but thankfully your helmet covers your neck well enough to keep the wolf from tearing it out.
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>Another wolf grabs onto your left arm, shaking its head in an attempt to tear the flesh.
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>Another bits into your thigh, doing the same.
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>And another.
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>And another.
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>You yelp in pain as the wolves tear at you.
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>This is it.
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>This is where you die.
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>After all these years tracking across Equestria and back, this is how its going to be.
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>Eaten alive and torn to shreds by frost wolves.
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>But then there's Laska...
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>Laska...
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>NO
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>You can't die!
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>You grunt with all your might, and you manage to work your right arm to the sash of vials.
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>Luckily for you, you had landed on your arm and the wolves hadn't managed to grab it yet.
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>You grab a specific vial based purely on muscle memory, and place it in front of your face.
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>With as much force as you can muster, you bring down the bridge of your helmet onto the flask, shattering it.
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>In an instant, your vision is filled with flames.
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>The wolves immediately stop trying to tear you apart, screaming through the forest in a ball of flame while howling their death throes.
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>You squint your eyes and begin rolling through the snow.
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>Stop, drop, and roll.
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>You roll yourself through the snow extinguishing the flames as quickly as you can.
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>After you're certain you're no longer on fire, you lay on your back, looking up into the almost dark sky as the stars begin to twinkle.
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>Holy fuck.
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>Everything hurts.
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>You manage to crane your neck to the left to see a circle where there was previously snow, still licked with flames and the foliage underneath now burned.
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>You smirk to yourself.
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>Gottem, fucking bastards.
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>You breath in short breaths, attempting to lift yourself up on your still good arm.
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>And the world goes dark.
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------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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>Is this how it ends for you?
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>So much for dying of old age.
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>Left as a half frozen, half smoldering corpse in the hinterlands.
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>But death is seldom welcomed, or turns out in any way you had planned.
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>Before you can find out if there is an afterlife or not, you are deterred by something viscous being poured down your throat.
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>You cough on half of it, managing to swallow the other half.
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>The effects are enough to bring you back to a state of "good enough" consciousness.
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>You find yourself laying on your back, with Laska pouring a healing potion in your mouth with one hoof, and tilting your head forward with the other.
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>With tears streaming down her face, her features perk up as she notices that you have come around.
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>"Oh Celestia!"
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>She drops the bottle, wrapping her forelegs around your neck and nuzzling your cheek with hers.
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>Her damp cheeks serve to help stir you from your near death experience.
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>With the return of your consciousness, however, also comes your senses.
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>Pain
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>Even after drinking half a healing potion, your whole body still aches.
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>The sun has long since set, the only light source being your still burning torch.
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>It's flickering flames casting a dancing light across the surrounding trees.
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"fffff....."
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>"You're alright, oh thank Celestia!"
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>You groan as a rock digs into your back
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>Laska lets you go as you prop yourself up on your elbows.
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>"I know you said to stay in the crate but you were just laying there and you didn't get up and I thought you might die so I had to do..."
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>You cup her muzzle with your palm, rubbing her cheek with a thumb.
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>Disrupted, she sighs contentedly and leans into your hand as you elicit her small smile, her eyes going half-lidded.
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>Works every time.
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"You did the right thing."
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>You pick yourself up off the ground, creaking and groaning the whole way up.
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>Assessing the damage... your parka is roasted beyond repair.
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>A shame, you really liked this one.
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>Hopefully they have a new one they can trade you.
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>Laska also tore half the crates open looking for that potion.
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>You're going to need another.
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>Maybe two.
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>Three potions later, and you're MAYBE functional
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>At least enough to help Laska put everything back in the crates.
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>After setting up your teepee and building a fire to last for the night, you you do your best to get some sleep.
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>You really need the rest, but you can't help but keep one eye open.
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>There could always be more of those damn wolves out there.
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>One eye open, and one hand on the grip of your sword.
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>Fully geared up this time.
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>Nothing but the crackling of flames to sing of your potential future demise.
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>But eventually, you find yourself in Luna's realm, swimming through the world of dreams.
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>The sun is already rising by the time you wake up.
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>The fire in the middle of your teepee is nothing but smoking embers, its final death knells being the curling smoke that escapes through the top of the tent into the world beyond.
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>Set up next to you for warmth, Laska is still snuggled in her bedding, her form rising and falling slowly with each sleepy breath.
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>You pull an arm out and nudge her awake.
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"We need to get moving."
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>she groans, pulling the covers over her head.
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>"Five more minutes."
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>You roll your eyes and get up to begin packing your bedding.
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>After putting everything away, you're prepared to start pulling down the teepee, but Laska is still in her bed.
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>Again you nudge her more, but slightly more forcefully, and with a steel boot.
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>The attack last night had taken up a lot of your time.
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>You may still have time, but you don't want to take the chance.
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>She yelps as she jumps up with a giggle.
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>"Jeeze, fine!" she laughs.
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"No jeeze. We need to make good time today, just in case."
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>Breakfast is cold oat bars, much to Laska's chagrin.
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>You've no time to wait around or make another fire for a proper meal.
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>Picking up the rest of the camp is mostly uneventful, and before long you're on the move again.
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>You're still a bit sore from last night's "fun," so Laska is opting to help you with the cart.
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>It's not really necessary, but it allows you to keep up a good pace.
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>The two of you progress through the mountain pass in relative quiet.
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>Laska sticks close to your side as possible, scanning the tree lines.
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>Poor girl.
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"Laska."
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>She takes a moment to react.
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>"Hmm?"
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"You don't have to worry about the wolves. They only come out at night."
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>She doesn't immediately reply, still scanning the tree line as you both move along.
-
>"What if we run into day wolves?"
-
"There is nothing else up here this time of year. All the animals migrate to warmer climates for the winter."
-
>She halfheartedly hums, clearly not content.
-
>"Anon..."
-
>She trails off with a sense of melancholy, which causes you to stop and look at her.
-
>"We.. You... almost died. DIED!"
-
>The droplets of tears are already swelling out of her eyes.
-
>You don't say anything.
-
>Rather, you drop to a knee and pull her into an embrace.
-
>She quietly sobs into the charred remains of your parka while you run your fingers through her mane.
-
>"I-I'm so stupid! S-should have stayed home! I-it's my fault!"
-
>You shush her as you continue.
-
"It's ok."
-
>"I'm scared."
-
"I know. Its ok to be scared."
-
>She looks up to you.
-
>"I can't be. I have to be strong, like you."
-
>You smirk.
-
"You can be both you know. Being afraid... its normal. Do you think I've never been afraid?"
-
>You draw in a deep breath of the cold air while looking up at the new cloud cover
-
>The complete blanket of white over the heavens.
-
>And it has just started dropping a slow pace of beautiful large snowflakes.
-
>One lands right on Laska's forehead.
-
"I've been scared. A lot. Every time I fight I'm scared. What if I don't make it out this time... what if my luck runs out?"
-
>She sniffs
-
"Thinking back to my first day in Equestria... that was scary."
-
>The memories flash through your mind
-
>Waking up not knowing where you were
-
>Confused, Hungry, alone.
-
>Afraid.
-
"I don't think I've actually told you that story."
-
>"Would you?"
-
>You give her your best smile as you stand up.
-
"Sure, but only if we're walking."
-
>Your steel boots crunch against the new snowfall as it threatens to bury the pathway.
-
>Even if it does, you know the way by heart.
-
"It's not a sunshine and rainbows story miss, can you handle a gruesome one?"
-
>"You know I'm a fan of Nightmare Night stories, right?"
-
>You chuckle devilishly.
-
>She's asking for it.
-
-
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
-
-
>Cold.
-
>It's fucking cold.
-
>What the fuck?
-
>You jolt up to find yourself not where you expected to be.
-
>This is not your bed
-
>Or your house even
-
"W-what?"
-
>Instead of four walls and a roof, your bedroom has taken a new form: A curtain of pine trees and a blue sky ceiling.
-
>A gentle breeze lightly tickles the tops of said trees, persuading then to sway ever so slightly, dropping a few needles from the disturbance.
-
>You stand up in a state of shock and panic, assessing your surroundings.
-
>Your eyes dart between the trees, trying to make sense of your current predicament.
-
>Nothing but wilderness.
-
>The Pines... the thick undergrowth...
-
>You stand in a rather bizarre clearing that almost appears to be perfectly circular.
-
>Where are you?
-
>How are you?
-
>How are you here?!
-
>You drag a hand down your forehead and over your eyes.
-
>This can't be real.
-
>How?
-
>Are you lost?
-
>Were you hiking?
-
>You check yourself, finding you have nothing but your pajamas, and socks.
-
>Nothing makes sense.
-
>Is this some kind of prank?
-
"HEY! THIS SHIT AIN'T FUCKING FUNNY YOU ASSHOLES!"
-
>You angrily protest into the forest, but the only reply is the echo off of distant, and exceptionally tall mountain peaks.
-
>Fortunately, the confusion and alarm you feel begins to bleed out, being replaced by reason.
-
>You don't know where you are
-
>You don't know what the fuck is going on
-
>But what you do know is that you are now officially in a survival situation.
-
>One that you are woefully under prepared for.
-
>You do remember briefly skimming through stone age technology and survival media
-
>But never having put it to practice or thoroughly committing it to memory puts you at a distinct disadvantage.
-
>You remember enough about making basic stone tools, and how rope can be made from tree bark.
-
>Better than nothing.
-
>You don't see any stones nearby, the clearing is eerily flat, with only soft grasses growing.
-
>A questionable contrast to the dense forests that surround it.
-
>You do also recall some survival advice: stay put.
-
>But something in the back of your mind is telling you it is a bad idea.
-
>It's cold enough that you shiver.
-
>You figure that some movement will help keep you warm.
-
>As you begin to make your way through the brush, sticks stab into your feet.
-
>Another step and you know for sure that there is a hole in that sock.
-
>This is going to be a bad time.
-
>You grimace in pain as you continue on, knowing that your alternative is potentially worse.
-
>Or perhaps, not staying put in the first place is your death sentence.
-
>Either way, you've made up your mind, and you must continue.
-
>As you haphazardly bumble your way through the thicket, you begin to contemplate your life
-
>Thinking of the things you wish you had done but never did.
-
>It's as if you should have known that this moment would someday be upon you.
-
>And you were too lazy to even do a modicum of preparation for it.
-
>You curse yourself constantly for your lack of consideration.
-
>The rough brush gives way to a game trail.
-
>You almost unconsciously decide to follow it.
-
>Perhaps it will lead you to somewhere you can get a view.
-
>Then the idea dawns upon you.
-
>If you can find a stream, river, creek, or whatever...
-
>Just follow it.
-
>Eventually it will lead to either a bigger one, or eventually civilization.
-
>At least you presume.
-
>It's worth a shot.
-
>It's a game trail.
-
>You remember that much.
-
>And animals drink water.
-
>If you've chosen the right way, It should lead you to water.
-
>Hopefully to flowing water, and not a still lake.
-
>It feels like an hour when you finally break through the trees.
-
>There it is.
-
>Water.
-
>Not much, just a creek.
-
>The symphony the fluid makes as it tumbles over the rocks that form its base is music to your ears.
-
>You tread as fast as your can, but not to fast as to injure your feet any more than you already have.
-
"Thank fucking god."
-
>You stand at the shore of the creek with your hands on your knees, watching as the crystal clear fluid flows ever onward downhill, undeterred by whatever resistance the forest could ever put in its path.
-
>Despite the cool chill, you find yourself thirsty and decide to take a drink.
-
>You cup as much water as you can in your joined palms and sip.
-
>It might make you sick and kill you, but dying of thirst would probably kill you faster.
-
>A person can go only three days without water.
-
>At least that is the advice that you recall.
-
>Step ??? of successful survival achieved.
-
>After getting your fill, you drag yourself to your feet and begin the next step of your perilous trek.
-
>Most of the shoreline is choked with dense vegetation, so you find yourself following parallel game trails instead.
-
>Much softer on your tender and probably bloody feet.
-
>How your prehistoric ancestors lived without shoes, you will never know.
-
>Eventually, the small creek meets with another, forming a stream.
-
>You feel confident about your direction, despite how much your body protests.
-
>The stream eventually meets another, becoming even larger.
-
>You feel your stomach growl in hunger.
-
>You've noticed a few berry bushed along the way, but you dare not try them.
-
>You have no idea if they are even edible.
-
>They could leave you sick, which is the last thing you want.
-
>You've got a few extra pounds, So while finding something to eat will be important, it isn't the most pressing concern at the moment.
-
>The streams eventually become a full fledged river.
-
>You scan the banks of the river as you trudge along, hoping to find one that be useful as a tool.
-
>You do manage to find a few of what you presume are flints.
-
>Could come in handy later if you figure out how to use them.
-
>They bounce around in your pajama pocket as you walk along.
-
>But the problem of feet is much more pressing.
-
>The sun is high overhead, and you presume you've been walking for quite a few hours at this point.
-
>Your body is starting to ache from the activity it is most definitely not used to.
-
>Your feet are the worst, and you decide to take a short break to give them a rest.
-
>Sitting down on a rock cropping that overlooks the river, you prop a foot up on your thigh to inspect the damage.
-
>Your sock is shredded beyond repair, and is soaking a bit of blood.
-
>You get the idea of tearing your shirt and wrapping it around your feet as impromptu shoes.
-
>It would be more appealing if it wasn't so chilly.
by eatcarbs
by eatcarbs
by eatcarbs