Unwelcome meals, and visitors

My eyes adjusted as we stepped outside. We were once again in the forest. But thinking for a second I realized this was not the same woods. The trees, the smells, the very air was wrong. Heeding the words of our strange savior I tried to get my bearings. We had just exited some kind of mound (maybe a tomb?) and the sun in the sky was starting to touch the treeline. I watched it for a minute and determined it was setting and turned myself to face East. I knew what to do, I was a boy scout after all.

Despite my injuries my hiking backpack was in workable condition and I secured Finn in his spot. We started walking the only way I knew to go. The forest was damp, green, and mossy. I was happy to see and hear the chatter of perfectly normal birds and squirrels as we hiked through the woods. Eventually we came across a decently large stream. It was clear but also fast and deep, at least waist high. I stopped for a minute and prepared myself by removing my socks and shoes. I checked that Finn was secure on my back and began fording. I was confident in my abilities and quickly passed halfway. But perhaps I was weaker than I thought from the earlier action and bloodloss. I slipped on some smooth rocks, plugging both of ourselves forward into the water. I had enough sense not to panic and with both my arms and legs I launched us off the bottom of the stream. Like a drunk frog, I sloppily scrambled to the other side. Finn was screaming and I looked back and giant salmon was stuck with him in the pack. Now panicking I grabbed the wriggling fish with both hands and pulled it out. Holding it in front of me the fish almost seemed to turn around to look at me. The fish said, “Hey jerk what do you thi—” “NOPE!” I shouted in surprise. And I swung with both arms as hard as I could on the rocks.

A little later it was nighttime now and Finn and I were by a small fire I had made. Over it was a wooden grill made of sticks pushed into the ground and balanced on each other. I had placed broad green leafs over that and on it sat a great red salmon roasting. Finn was in my lap and beginning to fuss. “I’m sorry little guy” I half pleaded. We were in the middle of nowhere and the bottle I had prepared had long been used. I poked the fished and Finn leaned forward interested. “Careful” I said. “Well you’ve just started solids so maybe it’s ok.” I poked a stick into a little bit of fat that had bubbled up. I tried to then give it to Finn who was not cooperating. He grabbed the stick, smearing the fat on his thumb, and then finally put it into his mouth.

With a loud *Pop* a hail of embers shot into the fair. Finn and I jumped back, and so did the fish. “Ow ow ow ow!” It flopped on the ground. “Now you’ve done it! You’re real stupid aren’t you and now you’ll have a real smart-alec to tell you all about it too.” I was too shocked to say anything as the half-burnt fish flopped away. “5000 lives and I never! People! The audacity!”. It disappeared into the forest. I then heard it one last time echoing, “Don’t get yourself skewered by a goblin chump.”

Beyond exhausted I sat in a slump with Finn there. He now seemed to realize that he was also being denied a meal. He cried and I cried. Not knowing what else to do I tried to comfort him, and then I smelled it. It had been several hours and I guess because of the adrenaline and fear I hadn’t cleaned him all this time. Preparing myself for the task, I grabbed all the diaper gear from the backpack. I was almost finished cleaning and thinking on what had just happened. Then the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end as a chill went down my spine. I turned my head just in time and leapt to the side, holding what I had in my hands. I had narrowly being skewered as a gnarled stone spear stuck into the dirt. I caught my footing and was face-to-face with a goblin. It was about half the side of a man with protruding eyes, nose and forehead. It’s skin was leathery and a pallid green, and its attire made from barbarically stitched leathers. Perhaps drawn by the smells or sounds it looked hungry, and didn’t seem picky. We are now caught up to the beginning of our story.

I stared down the crude but ghastly spear pointed in my direction, my infant son cradled in one hand, his dirty diaper in another. I did the only thing that I could. I threw it. Weighted down as it was due to not being changed since we arrived in this new place (I feel like such a bad father) it flew with more speed and force than I, or the goblin expected. "Splat" square on the nose, dare I say it was satisfying?

With a muffled -- roar? more a gurgle -- the goblin wildly slashed. I prioritized scooping up my son. I crashed through the thick underbrush, further ripping my clothes to tatters. For a second I thought I had lost the goblin, but the sounds of his foreign curses and screams proved me wrong. I ran as best as I could, but I realized he had the advantage in this terrain. I could hear it crashing behind me as I burst into a clearing. Thinking I now had the advantage, I chanced a glance and lost my footing. *CRASH - curling myself around the baby we tumbled head over heels. I landed on my side with Fin cradled in one arm. The goblin wasted no time. With a screeching battle cry it lowered its spear and charged. Not knowing what to do, I uselessly reached out with my free arm, as if that could stop the cruel creature. Fin screamed, the goblin screamed, I screamed. A scream that resonated deeply with some base and forgotten instinct of survival. I felt the adrenaline erupt from deep in my soul, or maybe it was something else welling up. My arm tingled for a second, and then erupted. The world turned white and my faced burned. That’s when I blacked out.