Survival and Protection

Chapter 2
Part 1 - Survival

As I stand on a huge branch at the very top of a tree, I can’t believe my eyes. Warm, gentle wind brushes against my skin, the sun still at early rise. The vast jungle before me dilates my pupils. It’s like my body wants me to see the beauty—every shade of green, blue, yellow and still more. Creatures I didn’t know existed appear, like a big bird with four wings and two tails gliding in the sky. Valleys of enormous trees tower around twenty-five meters high. There is no end in sight. Which I now realise… is a problem.

Climbing was a challenge at first, and painful. After a few five-meter drops onto my face, I finally reached a point where falling would mean more than just pain. That’s when my instincts kicked in. All the fear and doubt vanished. My body grew loose and steady, and I climbed the rest with ease. I needed to locate where I was. Standing here now, I still have no idea. Encouraging myself:
“Well, I guess I’ll just pick a direction.”

Back on the ground, I head toward where I think I saw mist rising through the trees. I’m hoping it’s a waterfall. That would mean water for me and hopefully for other animals. I need to be ready when I arrive, in case I scare everything off. I’ll make some sort of weapon. Protection as well. Not that I’ve ever fought anything or anyone before, so I don’t know how much it’ll help. With no experience—hunting or anything for that matter—a spear seems the best choice. Some range, so I won’t have to get too close.

First comes the rock. I need a sharp edge with weight, otherwise I’ll just be some weird jungle bully. I find a mid-sized rock and bring it to a boulder. Smashing it might give me a shard. Closing my eyes, hoisting the rock over my head, I throw with full force. I let go too early and the rock pathetically rolls onto my foot.
“MMMMH!” I moan in pain, rolling around.
Too close, poor timing. This time I stand further back, one eye slightly open. Throwing perfectly, I see the rock split. Crouching down and picking one.

“I’ll call you, Toe-breaker”

Next is the stick. Durable but flexible, with some weight, yet leads after the stone. Around my height so it feels dynamic. I find a big bush with thick, living branches. The wood’s flexibility makes it unlikely to snap.
“Why do I know that?” I mutter.

Lastly, binding. I split vines into thin strings and twist them together until I have enough to tie the stone to the tip. Wrapping it tight, I lift my new weapon.
“Hahaaa!” I cheer in achievement, admiring my creation.

Time to head out. Jumping logs, balancing across uneven terrain, ducking under vegetation. Slowly but surely, I move forward. Sometimes I climb a few meters up trees to orient myself. The thing is, I never stray from the right path. My senses won’t let me. The smell of humidity and moss pulls me toward the water. When I close my eyes and focus, I hear crashing while other sounds fade. I even feel rumbling beneath my feet. I’m getting closer.

The best chance I’ll have is arriving at the water. If I fail my throw, the noise of my stomach will keep me awake tonight. I just know it. So I need practice.

With a rock, I carve a target into bark, then step back. I shake my limbs loose, lift the spear, repeat. It feels ridiculous.
“Just do it man!” I hype myself up.

Finally, I stand still, staring at my target. The uneven mark in the bark becomes bigger, clearer. Everything else grows quiet. I inhale. Not blinking, I raise the spear slowly. My left hand extends in front, my right warms with heat. I’m getting hotter, almost boiling. With a sharp breath, I plant my left foot forward. For a split second I see the tattoos on my arm emitting light. With final effort, I launch the spear with momentum. The air splits as the spear flies with incredible speed, burying deep into the tree. The shaft shatters into countless splinters.

Frozen in shock, I stare at the poor target.
I pull out what’s left of my spear—the stone shard.
“I knew you were tough, Toe-breaker”

Humidity tingles against my skin, every breath now with taste as well as smell. Mixed with crashing water, I hear something else.
Something alive. Something that breathes.
Its heat pulses against me, revealing its location. Adrenaline shoots my concentration to the max. Surprisingly, my nerves are as calm as my body, even knowing how important this moment is.

Through thick vegetation, the waterhole comes into view.
I see it.

Drinking water with its long neck. Curled back, strong but short legs for support. Horns curved back like a tiny demon—a cute demon. Still, I can’t see its eyes. Its ears dangle in front of its face.
Crouched, I stay completely still, lifting my new spear. As it raises its head, I see its dark eyes.
They shine in the evening light as I plant my feet.

The meat is tough. Maybe because I just roasted it directly on the fire. Didn’t have the luxury to wait for the coals. It’s already pretty dark—butchering an unknown animal takes time. So does making fire with sticks and a spinning thread of vines. The flammable wool from the animal saved my butt.

This is the first time all day that I’ve been able to sit down. With the comfort of the fire, my thoughts return.
Who am I? Why do I know how to do these things? And damn, I’m pretty strong.
Maybe I’ve been in this jungle my whole life. I feel young—maybe late teens? Maybe I fell from a tree and hit my head, just like earlier today. That could explain why I can’t remember who I am.

A spark from the fire flashes a memory. Someone trapped under rubble, a hand reaching out to me. Someone standing at the corner of a house, waving. A smile that fills me with warmth—then a raging anger and sadness.

“Ara!” I call out, as if reaching for someone, with only the fire filling my eyes and tears dripping down.

Part 2 - Protection

A couple days have passed. The jungle and I are on good terms—it’s harsh, but equal in how it treats its inhabitants.
Only the strong survive.

I often remember the eyes of the first animal I killed, the first life I took in this world. It doesn't feel like it was the first, yet somehow it was different. Different in the weight it brought to my shoulders.

My routine looks like this:
I wake up on large branches of the trees where I sleep. The height gives a soothing breeze in this warm, humid climate, as well as protection. First thing, I pick the direction I should head. I try to stick to the same path. These days, my descent is quick, jumping between branches and swinging on vines. I keep moving, so the area is always different. Luckily, there is water and food everywhere. Plants, berries and the meat of animals. Unfortunately, many days were spent with incredible stomach aches while I discovered which vegetation was edible.

Toe-breaker is still with me, even if he looks dull now.
After eating and drinking, I start moving.

Some hours before sunset, I hunt again, like always. I’ve gotten much better—using my senses, tracking the warmth of the living. However, something worries me. For days, I’ve felt it. Something is following me. At first, I thought it might be people, so I moved toward it. But as I got closer, my intuition told me—this was no man. So I kept moving.

Tonight, I finally killed another of those wool-covered creatures. A relief, since its wool is a tremendous help for fire. I was running out of what I gathered from the first one. This time, I’ll cook it well.

I brought it under a cliff where I make camp. After making a fire, I plucked and butchered it while waiting for the coals to get ready. With sticks, I built a stance over the fire to roast it slowly. It was getting late, but I still had some hours of light. With the meat roasting, I decided to explore a bit.

This cliff is sharp, a straight drop from the top. Light-tinted blue stone all over the wall.
“You’re a pretty wall, aren't you.” I compliment.

While walking alongside it, hand brushing its smooth surface, I spot something. Brushing away dust, figures appear clearer and clearer.

“No way…” I whisper.

Drawings of people. Houses, animals dragging carriages, fields, pots…
“YESSS!” I burst out in relief.
“Finally, I will find you all soon...”

I lose track of time staring. I forgot the meat. I sprint back happily. As I arrive at the small open patch I chose for camp, I turn toward the smell of roasting meat.

With the cliff at my back, my muscles tense so hard I can’t move.

Large, hunched, muscular back. Short-haired hide. Sharp, forward-pointing tusks jutting beside its gross snout. Legs bent wide at the sides, holding up its massive body. It’s sniffing my meat. At my entrance, the pointy ears flap in reaction. Still, it turns its short, strong neck slowly toward me. Only when I see its terrifying, huge red eyes locking on mine do I know—
It’s not afraid. I am.

My breaths come short and strained, dizziness hitting me. The only thought in my head: this is what followed me. No—hunted me. How did I not notice it? I was careless, not paying attention. Terrified, I watch as it opens its mouth, showing layer after layer of sharp teeth. I tense even more. With nowhere to run, my eyes dart to my spear, stuck in the ground near the fire. The moment I twitch, with hesitation, it launches toward me.

“aaAAh!” I scream, getting my body to move.
Right before it reaches me and swings its tusks, I dive forward, sliding underneath it. Instantly I’m on my feet, sprinting for the spear. Grabbing it, I spin around, ready to throw—
It’s already there.

I thrust, piercing its neck. Pain sears as a tusk digs between my ribs.
“AAHHH!!” I cry out in struggling agony.

With my left hand, I grab its other tusk, saving myself from death. Holding on for life, I push the spear deeper. It roars in pain, flinging me off, sending me crashing into the cliff wall. My blood paints the wall behind me. I puke as I hit the ground.

Both of us are hurt. But I’m worse. It kicks off the ground, glaring at me with blood-filled eyes, and charges again. I force myself up.
“AAHHHHHHH!” I scream in fear and pain, charging back.

I seize both tusks as it slams into me, pushing me backward. My heels tear the dirt. Behind me—only the cliff.

I plant my feet against the wall.
Pushing back.
Pain and fury ignite my muscles like fire. My tattoos blaze, glowing like molten lava.
Jumping up, pushing my feet against the wall, I throw my knee forward, driving it into its face, crushing its skull.
We only fall when the beast does. As my body hits the ground, I gasp for air. Ringing in my ears at the beat of my heart. I press my hand on my wound.