Chapter 04 Singing a Lullaby

Stepping cautiously out of the cave and into the cool morning air, I gazed up at the towering canopy of trees surrounding me, their thick branches casting sprinkled shadows upon the forest floor. My eyes squinted against the soft light filtering through the leaves, and that's when I spotted them - small, round fruits dangling from the branches above.

Apples.

A rush of excitement surged through me at the sight of the tempting fruits, their vibrant colors standing out against the green backdrop of the forest. But as quickly as my joy had blossomed, it withered away, replaced by a sinking realization.

The apples were far beyond my reach, nestled high in the tree's boughs, their bounty tantalizingly out of reach. I felt a pang of frustration gnaw at my insides as I realized the insurmountable height difference between myself and the fruit.

I was like an insect to a giant in comparison, my tiny form dwarfed by the towering trees that loomed overhead. No matter how I stretched or strained, I knew that reaching the apples was an impossible task - one that left me feeling helpless and powerless in the face of nature's unforgiving whims.

And so, with a sigh of defeat, I turned my attention back to Kaka, hoping that he would soon awaken and together we could devise a plan to secure the food we so desperately needed. But even as I waited for Kaka to regain consciousness, my eyes continued to roam the forest, searching for any sign of salvation in this vast wilderness. 

As I scanned the forest floor for anything that might be of use, my eyes alighted upon a few sturdy sticks and smooth rocks scattered amongst the undergrowth. A spark of inspiration ignited within me, and suddenly my mind was alive with possibilities.

Grasping a stick in my hand, I set to work. Using a pointy pebble, I carefully split one end of the stick and wedged a rock into the makeshift crevice. With deft fingers, I secured the rock in place with thin vines, fashioning a crude hammer from the materials strewn across the forest floor.

Inspecting my primitive handiwork with a sense of satisfaction, I allowed myself a moment of pride in my resourcefulness. Satisfied with my handiwork, I turned my attention to another rock, striking it repeatedly until it fractured, revealing a sharp edge.

With this newfound tool, I set about fashioning a small hatchet, carefully chipping away at the rock until it took on the shape of a crude blade. With the hatchet in hand, I approached a nearby bush, its sturdy branches beckoning me to action.

For hours, I toiled away, hacking at the bush with feeble strokes until it finally fell, yielding a bounty of long, sturdy sticks. With these gathered, I turned my attention back to the rocks, scouring the forest floor for any additional materials I could repurpose. After some time, I amassed a small pile of pebbles, each one a potential tool in my arsenal of survival.

But it was one particular rock that caught my eye - a chunk of obsidian, black as the darkest night and gleaming with a faint sheen. With a sense of curiosity, I picked it up and examined it closely, noting its sharp edges and smooth surface. And then, an idea took root in my mind - a plan to fashion this humble rock into a tool of sorts, a primitive knife to aid me in my struggle for survival.

For hours I worked tirelessly, carefully chipping away at the obsidian with my primitive hammer, shaping it into a crude semblance of a blade. Each strike sent shards of stone flying through the air, the sound of my efforts mingling with the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of wildlife. And finally, I held in my hand a weapon forged from the very earth itself. I admired my handiwork, knowing that this primitive knife would serve me well in time of need.

 With deft hands, I began cutting and skinning the sticks I had cut down, weaving their shavings into a small basket with straps that fit snugly on my back - a makeshift backpack to carry any small treasures I might find in the wilderness. Satisfied with my creation, I turned my attention to defense.

Armed with nothing but my primitive knife and a deep longing to protect both myself and Kaka, I set to work on fortifying our makeshift sanctuary beneath the apple tree. 

With careful precision, I sharpened the sticks to needle-like points, jabbing them into the ground by the cave entrance to serve as a crude barricade against the dangers of the forest. Gathering rocks and pebbles from the surrounding area, I placed them alongside the sticks and secured them together with sturdy vines, reinforcing my feeble barrier with whatever materials I could find.

As I surveyed my handiwork, a sense of pride swelled within me, the false belief that my spike barricade would prove impregnable against any threat that dared to approach. But deep down, I knew the truth - that in the face of true danger, my defenses would crumble like sand beneath the tide.

With my false sense of security firmly in place, I cast one last glance toward Kaka, ensuring that he remained safe and undisturbed within our sanctuary. And then, with a cautious step forward, I ventured further into the forest, keeping our makeshift shelter within sight so that I would not venture too far.

After hours of painstakingly crawling through the dense underbrush, my basket was filled to the brim with forest treasures - berries, mushrooms, herbs, and damp moss - all gathered in the hopes of sustaining us through the harsh days ahead. But as I prepared to retreat to the safety of our cave, a sight caught my eye and left me frozen in place, my mouth agape with astonishment.

In the distance, within a pile of decaying leaves, lay the corpse of a deer, its body half-eaten and ravaged by time and decay. But it wasn't the promise of meat that drew my gaze - it was the warm and fluffy hide that draped over the deer's skeletal frame like a tattered cloak. With cautious steps, I crept closer and closer, my heart pounding in my chest as I surveyed the scene for any signs of danger. Only when I was certain that no threat lurked nearby did I dare to approach, my eyes fixed greedily on the prize before me.

Up close, the hide seemed even more alluring, its soft fur beckoning to me like a warm embrace. I cast a wary glance over my shoulder, scanning the surrounding forest for any sign of danger, before turning my attention back to the deer's remains.

The creature had been dead for some time, its flesh rotted away and devoured by maggots long ago. Only the skin and bones remained, draped in a tattered hide that still retained a semblance of its former glory.

But fortune smiled upon me, for the hide was largely intact and in surprisingly good condition. Without hesitation, I set to work with my primitive knife, carefully cutting and peeling away the hide from the corpse.

Hours passed in a blur of pain and exhaustion as I labored to free the hide from its owner. But with sheer grit, I persevered, until at last, I had peeled off the hide in a single, massive patch. Rolling the pelt into a makeshift tube, I hoisted it onto my hunched back, the weight threatening to crush me beneath its bulk. But I refused to give up, dragging the precious prize back to the safety of our cave with every ounce of strength I possessed. As the light in the sky began to fade below the tree line, I finally stumbled back into the comforting embrace of our sanctuary, the hide clutched tightly in my trembling hands.

Inside the cave, I carefully cleaned and prepared the hide, my hands moving slowly as I cut it into two shapes. One piece was fashioned into a large blanket, a cozy cocoon in which Kaka and I could seek refuge from the biting chill of the night. The other was to drape over the entrance hole of our cave, a makeshift barrier against the cold and any unwanted intruders that might seek to disturb our fragile peace.

With the smaller piece of pelt clutched tightly in my hands, I made my way to the cave entrance to fortify our sanctuary against the encroaching cold of the night. I draped the pelt over the opening, securing it in place with sharp splinters I had hand-cut from sturdy sticks. The makeshift barrier offered a modicum of protection against the elements, shielding us from the chill of the night air.

The cave had grown oppressively dark without the light of day filtering in. Turning my attention to my basket of forest goodies, I retrieved a handful of glow mushrooms and planted them in patches of damp moss scattered throughout the cave. As their soft, pulsating light filled the cavern with a warm, comforting glow, I breathed a sigh of relief, grateful for the dim illumination they provided.

Turning my attention to Kaka's injuries, I found myself pleasantly surprised by the progress he had made during his day of rest. His head injury, once a gaping wound oozing with blood and pus, had closed and fused, leaving behind a gruesome patchwork of scar tissue that marred his wrinkled skin. The sight of his acid-burned flesh made my skin crawl, the layers of skin forming a grotesque, thin membrane that glistened sickeningly in the dim light of the cave.

I glanced down at his crotch, where Slasher's blazing torch had left its mark. The charred remains of his skin had sloughed away, revealing raw, tender flesh beneath. It was a gruesome sight, one that made my stomach churn with revulsion.

With trembling hands, I applied a fresh layer of healing herb paste to his wounds, the sickly sweet scent of decay mingling with the sharp tang of medicinal herbs. It was a futile gesture, I knew, but one that offered a sliver of hope in the face of overwhelming despair.

Once I had done all I could for Kaka, I gently wrapped his cold body in the warm embrace of the pelt, tucking him in to shield him from the cold night. As I watched him sleep, I couldn't help but wonder how much more suffering he would endure before this nightmare finally came to an end. 

With night coming and my body exhausted from the day's work, I nestled against Kaka under the soft pelt. As the night wore on, I held Kaka close, refusing to let go. His breaths grew fainter, his body colder. I rocked him gently, singing a lullaby that we used to sing together back in the breeding farm, hoping that it would bring him some comfort.