Skills
His breath was heavy, chest rising and falling in sync with his hurried footsteps. I need to get off this mountain before it's completely dark. Fear gnawed at the edges of his mind. The thought of other creatures lurking—ones even more dangerous than the monstrous deer he had seen earlier—made his stomach twist.
Focus. Shelter first.
As he descended, his foot suddenly caught on an unseen root, and the world spun as he tumbled forward. His body crashed against dirt and rocks, rolling violently before coming to a stop with a sharp grunt.
"Ouch!" he groaned, his voice breaking the silence.
As he pushed himself up, he noticed something squashed beneath his palm—a burst of red smeared across the dirt and his fur-like clothing. His pulse quickened for a moment before realization set in. It wasn't blood.
"What is this weird-looking berry? Analyze."
A soft chime echoed in his head, followed by floating text appearing before his eyes.
Unripe Berry
Kuma exhaled in relief, plucking a few more from the nearby bush. Better than nothing. He popped a few into his mouth, biting down. A sharp sourness exploded on his tongue, but there was a faint hint of sweetness lingering beneath.
"Hmm... tastes like an unripe strawberry," he muttered, licking the tart juice from his fingers.
A familiar notification rang in his head.
Mission Progress:
Find a Water Source - ✔ Complete
Make a Shelter - Ongoing
Secure Food - ✔ Complete
Hunt an Animal - Ongoing
Find the Village - Ongoing
"Oh!" Kuma's lips curled into a smile as he studied the floating menu. The small bit of progress lifted his morale. I can do this. Encouraged, he grabbed as many berries as he could carry and pressed forward.
By the time he reached the lower parts of the mountain, the sun had vanished completely, and the darkness crept in like a living thing. The temperature dropped further, the once crisp air now carrying a chilling bite.
Kuma's eyes darted between the towering trees, scanning for anything resembling a safe place to rest. "I'd appreciate an abandoned house right about now... or even a nice, cozy cave. Anything, please."
His silent prayers were answered—sort of.
In the distance, he spotted a massive rock formation, cracked open by the ancient roots of an enormous tree. The roots snaked around the boulder's surface like petrified serpents, and beneath it, there was just enough space for him to crawl inside.
"This might work," he mumbled. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than nothing.
Before settling in, he carefully placed his berries inside his makeshift shelter and scouted the immediate area, gathering dry leaves and branches for warmth. He knew the night would be brutally cold, and any insulation would help.
By the time he returned, exhaustion weighed heavily on his limbs. He sighed in relief, only for his moment of peace to be shattered by a rustling sound. He froze.
A group of small creatures huddled near his berries, their tiny mouths busy munching. They had the body of squirrels, but their ears were long and floppy, like a rabbit's.
"HEY!!!" Kuma's voice rang through the forest as he lunged toward them.
The creatures—startled—scattered instantly, vanishing into the night with surprising speed.
"Damn it!" he groaned, staring at the empty spot where his food had been. A wave of frustration crashed over him. After everything he had gone through, losing even a handful of food felt like a cruel joke.
With a defeated sigh, he sank into his shelter. Hunger gnawed at his belly, but exhaustion outweighed it. I'll figure it out tomorrow.
Morning arrived with the gentle chirping of birds, a stark contrast to the eerie silence of the night. Kuma sat up, rubbing his eyes. I survived another night.
Determined to avoid another food crisis, he retraced his steps to the berry bush, hoping to find more. Luck was on his side—there were still a few left.
"This should be enough," he murmured, chewing on the tart fruit. He ate half and kept the rest, his mind already forming a plan.
I need to catch something.
Kuma racked his brain, pulling from memories of old survival shows he used to watch. One particular trap came to mind—the Deadfall Trap. He recalled how it worked: a heavy rock propped up by sticks, with bait underneath. When an animal disturbed the bait, the rock would come crashing down.
Without wasting time, he set out to gather materials. He needed a large, flat stone—something heavy enough to trap small creatures. Hours passed as he scoured the forest, his patience wearing thin until he finally found something suitable.
Sweat dripped down his forehead as he dragged the rock to his shelter. Next, he cut thick branches, tying them together with twisted grass to form an improvised rope. The process was slow and painstaking, but eventually, everything was ready.
He carefully set up the trap, balancing the rock on a thin wooden support. The last step was placing the berries beneath it as bait. The setup wasn't perfect, but it was functional.
"Analyze," he commanded, feeling a small sense of pride.
Deadfall Trap LVL 1: A flimsy-looking trap that might catch small prey.
Kuma grinned. "Not bad for my first try." His survival instincts were sharpening, and he was starting to feel less helpless.
Encouraged, he made two more traps, spacing them out near his shelter before taking a break. If I can catch even one of those Squabbits, it'll be a good meal.
With a couple of hours left before nightfall, Kuma decided to search for another water source. He recalled the river he had spotted earlier and estimated its direction. If he was right, it should be nearby.
"I just need water, a dead Squabbit under my traps, and this day would be perfect." A smirk played on his lips as he walked, feeling uncharacteristically optimistic.
Then he heard it.
A deep, guttural growl.
The sound sent ice through his veins. Every muscle in his body tensed as he slowly turned his head. The forest had gone eerily silent, as if holding its breath.
His pulse pounded in his ears.
Something was behind him.
A shadow loomed in his peripheral vision, shifting between the trees. A pair of glowing eyes locked onto him, unmoving yet filled with primal hunger.
His breath hitched. The air felt thick, suffocating. He knew one thing for certain—
He was not alone.