The next morning comes too soon. Dew wraps low branches over the door of the hut. I rise from my pallet by the warm runes and step outside. It feels like my own little home. A silly thought, but a comforting one.

  Nox clicks, ready to fly again. He flies around my head once before heading off. I sense a feeling of food from him, so I follow. We reach a ridge and I spot the black glow of decay on some mushrooms hiding under the lip of the ridge, but I also spot something else. Broken arrows.

  Tracks cover the ridge around me. I was so focused on food that I didn't pay attention to my surroundings.

  I hear a noise then. Men, calling out to one another. I can see movement coming towards the ridge. The closest one comes into sight.

  Hunter - Level 12

  I swing down under the ridge and hide with the mushrooms. The space is tight, but hides me from most angles. As the voices draw near, I hold my breath.

  “Cursed woods, these are,” says one man. “Two arrows and the stag runs on.”

  “Maybe you’re just a bad shot, Honep,” another jokes.

  There’s a third voice, laughing with the others. Younger. A youth like me.

  Their voices come to the ridge and stop. I tighten my lips and breathe as slowly as possible, but I feel like gulping down air. I put one hand on the mushrooms I intend to eat and [Leech Grip]. The vitality soothes me, filling me with something like breath.

  “Marlene will be disappointed if we return emptyhanded,” the boy’s voice says. “She’s been asking after fresh veal for a while now.”

  “Never mind the widow woman, boy,” the first man says. “Keep your head on the hunt.”

  The three voices go silent. I leech another mushroom, then another. I will not breathe once.

  It’s too silent. I wonder if they move away with stealth at one point, but then I hear jittery feet shuffling.

  Nox clicks at me and I urge his silence, not able to explain our situation. I feel a poke from his horns, but Nox quiets.

  Mana Low.

  Half of the mushrooms become ash in my fingers, and I worry I won’t have the mana for silence much longer.

  Nox can sense my anxiety and crawls out to the end of my shoulder, curious. The sensation of his movements makes it hard to concentrate on mana control.

  My mana runs out as feet shuffle again, but silence returns and I have nothing to draw upon. With burning lungs fighting me, I’ve already lost. If I were smart I would have started breathing slowly again, but now I’ve held on too long. A gasp is eminent.

  Nox decides to fly up at that moment, either due to curiosity or sensing something from me. It clicks and hisses as it rises above the ridge.

  The hunters erupt into noise. I immediately gasp for breath.

  “Blasted beetle,” one hunter says, “catch the rotten critter before it bites again.”

  An arrow shrieks out over the ridge.

  “Not with an arrow, dumb boy.”

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “Sorry.”

  The hunters stomp around, calling to one another, but eventually settle down. I worry for Nox, but I sense that warm air feeling some distance away, beyond the ridge.

  “There!” shouts the boy, breaking the short respite. “It’s not the stag but…”

  “What—ah yes. Marlene will like that. A whole boar.”

  Their voices rush away, leaving me to snack on mushrooms in peace, but I’m no longer hungry, only afraid. I still don’t know the type of humans these men and boy are—good or evil; and I doubt eavesdropping will tell me any more. I expected some sign, some feeling, anything to guide me.

  I climb up on the ridge, but don’t see the hunters, though their tracks point northward. I start in the opposite direction. I don’t walk more than ten feet before Nox hovers onto my shoulder and stares at me, expectant.

  I try for gratitude in my mind and Nox accepts the gesture, returning itself to its favorite spot under the cuff of my shirt.

  I need a place to lie low, but uncertain of whether Nox has the foresight to lead us away from the hunters; besides, Nox has earned some rest. I stumble my way through more cursed bushes as I follow [Detect Decay] pulses. Though I’m low on mana, I get the general sense of direction.

  I find a stream on the path and fill half my mana with a long drink.

  The [Detect Decay] comes more readily now. I pinpoint a strong patch of decay over the next rise and follow the sense. No fungi of any kind in the next clearing. Instead, I find a deer—two arrows piercing its side.

  Fallow Deer - Level 2

  Blood stains the grass beneath the beast. [Detect Decay] highlights the arrow entry points like black halos.

  I step carefully up to the deer. It shudders and I leap back. The creature still lives.

  I stand over it, saddened. Although I understand the purpose of hunting, this deer may be ignored for a bigger prize, left to rot.

  The hind leg of the deer twitches, kicking the thin branches of an accursed bush—those same thorny weeds of the forest. I could kill every bush in the woods and not be satisfied.

  That gives me an idea.

  I’m careful not to touch the deer until my hand reaches the first arrow. I wish at that moment I could communicate with the deer like I do with Nox. Even a semblance of explanation might calm the creature.

  But waiting around will only threaten the deer’s life more.

  I grip the arrow and rip it out.

  The deer jolts and cries, knocking me over in the process. I feel guilty at the pain I cause, but it’s necessary. The deer continues to thrash, even though it cannot rise, so I struggle to grab hold of the second arrow.

  I curse as I falter and miss time and time again. The deer hurts itself, fighting me, but it doesn’t know better. With some effort, I jump over the body of the deer and wrap a hand around the second arrow. The deer trashes with more intensity. It associates me with the arrow now.

  I battle with the deer until it slows, then rip the second arrow out.

  The deer reacts, but only for a moment. Its breathing is too shallow. I must be quick.

  Once I leap off the side of the deer, I thrust my hand deep into the thorny bush, ignoring the cuts, and touch the base of it.

  [Leech Grip] thrums through me, my cuts healing in an instant. Vitality fills by now, and I flare my leech with more mana, sucking whatever life I can reach. I can sense the flow now, feeling it try to enter my body, but I’m already filled to bursting.

  I reach out with my other hand and touch the dying deer, pushing the extra vitality into the poor creature. More and more, burning through mana—even draining my stamina, maintaining such a drag of magic. I pass through any sensation of low mana and suddenly find my head on the ground.

  [Leech Grip] has received Level 4

  I blink and realize I collapsed. One hand feels the ashy texture of a drained bush. The other feels the short hairs of the deer, whose breathing has deepened.

  I sit up and see no evidence of the arrow wounds.

  The deer jolts and climbs to its feet, almost stepping on me, then bounds into the forest, leaving me exhausted, but satisfied.

  I can rest here, let my mana fill on its own. My stamina is also low. I feel so lethargic I could sleep. Maybe I should. The grass is soft enough, though the crimson stains remain, reminding me of danger.

  Echoes of hunter voices confirm that reminder. They will investigate here.

  I climb to my feet and stumble.

  I send a message to Nox, trying to explain my problem. I need another distraction. Something to keep them away long enough for me to escape. I’m too weak to run.

  He flies off, while I trip over every rock in my path, until I step into a hole and tumble down a steep hill.