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In the still waking forest of Dorumdora a young man with black shoulder length hair tied up in a ponytail was keeping low to the forest floor, sneaking as quietly as he could, which was quiet enough to sneak up on and pet even the notoriously jittery Ulims. A rabbit-like creature that traded much of its sight and smell to enhanced hearing to escape prey, usually long before they were ever seen.
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But Rava had been through grueling training, since he could remember he had walked hand in hand with pain, his only company the cause of said pain, ‘the Old Fucker’. He had instilled into Rava hundreds, if not thousands of lessons over the years. 655Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡxti1Dgv15M
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Today was one of those lessons, to survive a week in the shadow of Honul, the towering mountain range that sealed off the east of the forest. The mountains didn’t allow this part of the forest much daylight. Which made it a suitable home for many monsters and animals that didn’t take too well to light.
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He had a three hour head start on ‘the Old Fucker’, who would hunt him for the whole week, affording him a small break. Going over his supplies one last time: Bow, quiver, arrows, dagger, shortsword, leather armor, cloak. “Good” He thought to himself and snaked his way between the old gnarled trees, he wouldn’t make it easy for ‘the Old Fucker’. Leaving fake clues and tracks to his ghostly silent passing as he had been taught, some so subtle that most trackers would miss them.
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For six days he had managed to elude his pursuer and every other danger this part of the forest housed. He hadn’t afforded himself a single fire for warmth or hot food in the approaching autumn chill, he would win this time. His concentration had been running on overdrive since the beginning of day five, which marked a new record. Suddenly the forest quieted, or did it slow down? Rava’s instincts had taken on a level most would find supernatural, being in a forest infested with all sorts of predators and monsters and a merciless trainer would do that to you after sixteen years. But something was coming.
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Spreading his awareness as much as he could in the almost time-frozen state his heightened perception and reaction afforded him meant almost every disturbance was noted, a bird to his upper left flew off and away, not the danger. A rodent scurried, not the danger. Ten other things happening, not the danger. A branch dipped a few centimeters, instantly catching Rava’s attention, the danger.
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A muffled “Twang!” followed by a hauntingly familiar whistle sounded out in the forest, on pure instinct Rava dove towards the undergrowth of the forest. Searing pain radiated through Rava’s thigh, He had been pierced through by an arrow. Rava gritted his teeth, trying not to make too much noise. Limping and crawling as fast as he could to safety, his mind trying to steady and focus through the pain. If he didn’t get away that would mean more pain, and most importantly, ‘the old Fucker’ would win, again.
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After a good thirty minutes of painful crawling, lunging and jumping on one leg as quietly as he could he slumped down behind a tree. Breathing deeply to steady his mind. Harsh instructions sounding out in his mind “Idiot boy, you should have seen me three paces earlier”, “Useless. Set the bone.”, “Pain is a fleeting mistress, don’t waste your breath arguing with it”. “Essenroot for wounds, Troubleweed for pain, Pourpetal for infection” 655Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡLXLQTtjePg
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He had to address the immediate concerns, his wound. First, his hand went to a pouch hanging from his belt, taking out a handful of different plants, roots and herbs. After quick examination two were kept in his hand and the rest placed back. One, he mushed between his fingers and brought to his mouth, chewing and swallowing the bitter weed. The other he placed on a stone to his right. He then drew a dagger from a sheath on the other side of his belt. Placing the oddly pockmarked leather handle of his dagger into his mouth. He steadied his hands as much as possible, his adrenaline was staving off as much pain as it ever would so now was the time.
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Snapping off the arrow at the fletching he bit down on the dagger, looking around with his keen eyes to see if the noise of the snap alerted his tormentor-mentor. After no second arrow came whistling towards him he started the painstaking process of pulling the arrow out the other side of his thigh. After it was out he brought the Essenroot root to his mouth and started chewing it to a paste, smearing it on both the entry and exit wound.
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After he was done his dagger was pockmarked again, a testament to how many times something like this had happened, how many times he had failed. But not this time. This time. He would win.655Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ7uOV0QzJvK
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