Departure

Kuma spent the next day making his final preparations before leaving. As he worked, a mix of emotions settled in his chest—a strange blend of anxiety, anticipation, and nostalgia. He had carved out an existence here, built tools, crafted shelter, and learned the rhythms of survival. Now, he was about to leave it all behind. Was he truly ready for what lay ahead? He could only hope that his preparations were enough. Every instinct told him that this land, once his refuge, was becoming increasingly hostile. He could feel it in the shifting patterns of the wildlife, in the absence of fish at the lake, and most recently, in the Hill Ant scouts prowling near his shelter. It was time to go—but not without ensuring his survival on the road ahead.

Crafting a Crude Wineskin

One of the most pressing concerns for his journey was water. The Grand Lake had provided an abundant source, but he couldn't rely on finding fresh water easily beyond these lands. He needed a way to store and carry it efficiently.

His first thought was using an animal stomach. From his previous hunts, he had a few cured and dried pelts, but more importantly, he still had a cleaned-out boar stomach he had set aside, originally intending to repurpose it. He retrieved it from his storage and examined its condition.

It was firm but flexible, with a thick lining that could hold liquid. Kuma knew from his Analyze skill that rawhide alone wouldn't be enough—it had to be treated to prevent leaks and degradation. He boiled it over a slow fire, letting it harden slightly, then rubbed it down with animal fat to keep it pliable.

The biggest challenge was sealing it. He couldn't afford for his water supply to leak while traveling. Using sinew, he carefully stitched one end shut, reinforcing it with layers of overlapping cured hide. For the opening, he fashioned a stopper from carved bone, sanding it down until it fit snugly into the opening. To secure it, he wrapped a length of braided plant fiber around the neck, creating a makeshift drawstring that allowed him to open and seal the wineskin when needed.

[Crude Wineskin Bottle] Created.

Kuma tested it by filling it with lake water and tilting it. A few drops seeped through the seams, but after applying more layers of resin and pressing it tightly together, it finally held. Satisfied, he slung it over his shoulder and turned to his next task—one last foraging run.

The Final Forage: Mushrooms and Berries

With his storage pack reinforced and water secured, Kuma set out to gather as much food as he could carry. He had already collected Golden Roots, but variety was key to a balanced survival diet. His primary targets were mushrooms and wild berries—both valuable sources of nutrients and, in some cases, medicinal properties.

Navigating the familiar trails of the forest, he moved cautiously, his instincts sharpened by weeks of survival. The first mushrooms he found were the ones he had grown to rely on:

[Cloudcap Fungus] – Soft, pale mushrooms that were safe to eat raw or cooked. Mild flavor, useful in stews.

[Bittercap] – Slightly toxic in large amounts, but when dried and used sparingly, it acted as a stimulant.

[Glowstalk] – A faintly bioluminescent mushroom. Best consumed roasted; helped with night vision temporarily.

[Ironcap] – Tough, fibrous mushrooms with a dense texture. Difficult to chew but highly nutritious.

He carefully plucked each variety, sorting them into different woven baskets. Some he planned to eat immediately, while others he would dry and store for long-term use. Kuma had learned that while some mushrooms alone wouldn't sustain him, they could supplement his diet and even provide useful effects in the right conditions.

Next, he turned his attention to wild berries. He had come across several types before, each with their own benefits and dangers:

[Bloodberry] – Deep red, tart, and rich in energy. A good source of quick nutrition.

[Shadowfruit] – Dark-skinned berries with a slightly bitter aftertaste. Mildly medicinal, useful for treating minor infections.

[Frostdew Berries] – Sweet and juicy. They helped with hydration and soothed sore throats.

His fingers worked quickly, plucking handfuls at a time and placing them into a second basket. By midday, he had gathered a full supply—enough to last at least several days if rationed carefully.

Kuma had filled two baskets completely, the weight of his gathered food pressing against his arms. But before heading back to his shelter, he took a moment to scan the area. The sun was high, the wind cool against his face. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to take in the sight of the land he was about to leave.

Then movement caught his eye.

A rustling near the base of a large tree. The leaves trembled, disturbed by something unseen. Kuma stiffened, his grip tightening around his Bone-Flint Knife. His pulse quickened as he crouched low, ears straining to catch any further movement. The air felt thick, charged with an eerie tension.

Then, a slow, deliberate shuffle. A shape lurking in the shadows, its presence felt before it was fully seen. The underbrush parted, revealing a gaunt yet towering figure. A Smiling Bear.

Its hollowed cheeks and ribs pressing against its matted fur painted a haunting picture of desperation. The stretched, unnatural grin on its face made Kuma's breath hitch—a grotesque parody of a friendly expression. Its beady eyes glowed with a predatory hunger, locked onto him. The beast was starving, just like the land itself, and Kuma knew in that moment—it wasn't just passing through. It was hunting. He crouched low, his instincts screaming that something was watching him. Slowly, he crept forward, adjusting his stance for balance.

Kuma let out a slow breath, his fingers tightening around his Bone-Flint Knife. He was on edge, but with good reason. The forest had grown more dangerous.

He wasted no more time. With his baskets secured, he made the long trek back to his shelter. By the time he arrived, the sky had turned a deep orange, the day nearly gone. Kuma sighed. He had planned to leave today, but the foraging had taken longer than expected. Adjusting his mental schedule, he decided to depart the following morning instead.

The Final Morning

The air was crisp and cool when Kuma awoke the next day. He moved with practiced efficiency, double-checking his supplies and securing everything in his Makeshift Survival Pack. He tested the weight—it was heavy, but manageable thanks to his Craft skill.

He slung his Bone-Flint Knife onto his belt, adjusted the strap of his Crude Wineskin Bottle, and secured the baskets of food within his pack. Taking one final look at his shelter, he felt a pang of emotion. It wasn't just a crude hideout; it had been his home. A place where he had fought, crafted, and survived.

Then he saw them.

A handful of Hill Ants, scouting near the entrance of his shelter. Their small, coin-sized bodies moved in careful, deliberate patterns, their antennae twitching as they searched the ground. The sight sent a jolt of urgency through him. He had known this day was coming, but to see it unfold before his eyes was different. The ants weren't aimless wanderers—they were scouts, harbingers of a greater swarm that would soon descend upon the area. If he hesitated, he might find himself trapped by an army of relentless foragers, tearing through his supplies and making this place uninhabitable.

Kuma exhaled sharply. "They're already here."

He tightened his grip on his pack and turned away from the shelter. There was no time to waste.

"I guess that's my alarm," he muttered to himself. "I need to leave today."

With that, he took his first step toward the unknown, leaving behind the Grand Lake and everything he had built.

His greatest adventure was about to begin, but deep in his gut, he knew the challenges ahead would test him in ways he had never imagined. The scarcity of food, the lurking predators, and the unknown dangers of the wild lands beyond the Grand Lake all loomed over him like shadows stretching into the horizon. With each step, he was walking into the unknown—but for the first time in a long while, he felt ready to face it.

Kuma stood at the edge of his shelter, his heart weighed down by the memories of everything he had built. The rough walls, the fire pit, the crude bed made from dried leaves and animal pelts—it had all been his home. But now, it was time to leave. His gaze wandered beyond his makeshift dwelling, towards the towering trees and the faint glimmer of the Grand Lake in the distance.

A wave of nostalgia hit him. He thought back to his very first encounters in this unfamiliar world—the towering Giant Deer, its antlers glistening like silver in the moonlight. The Silver Line Mountain Lion, a mother protecting her cub, nearly killing him in the process. The Goblin, a creature he had hesitated to fight, hoping for communication, but ultimately forced into a battle for survival. And the Smiling Bear, its eerie, mocking expression burned into his mind, a predator that had pushed him to his limits in a brutal, desperate struggle.

Then there was the Thornback Boar, a beast that had nearly gored him, yet had indirectly gifted him with the knowledge of flint. That discovery had changed everything—it allowed him to craft better weapons, to spark flames with ease. Without it, his survival might have ended long ago. He remembered the countless fish he had caught, the first time he had tasted cooked meat, and even his lowest moment—eating a flattened rat just to keep from starving. He chuckled to himself.

Lastly, his thoughts lingered on the Grand Snapper. That behemoth of a creature, a turtle the size of an island, was something beyond his comprehension. The mere thought of facing it was absurd. Could I ever fight something like that? Would I even leave a dent? He laughed at the thought. More likely, I'd get stepped on without it noticing!

Despite everything, Kuma felt grateful. This part of the forest had tested him, had shaped him into a survivor. He took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of damp earth and woodsmoke. One final look.

Leaving a Mark

Before departing, he knelt by a nearby tree, drawing his knife. Carefully, he carved a symbol into the bark—a simple emblem, his own mark of survival. It was nothing extravagant, just something to say: I was here. I lived.

He turned to the ground and dug a small hole, placing one of his oldest weapons—a sharpened bone dagger—inside. It was a relic of his past, a weapon that had served him in his earliest struggles. Now, he was leaving it behind, like shedding old skin. He packed the dirt over it, standing back up with a nod of finality.

This place had been his first true home. But now, it was time to move forward.

Journey into the Unknown

He set off, following the stream that would lead him away from the Grand Lake. His goal was clear—distance himself from the Grand Snapper. That thing was a walking calamity, a force of nature. He had no desire to ever cross paths with it again.

As he traveled, signs of life began to return. The deeper he moved away from the Grand Lake, the more wildlife he encountered. He spotted a Squabbit chasing a rat, its ears flapping wildly as it pounced. Birds rustled in the trees. Insects buzzed in the air. It was a good sign—this area had resources. If prey could thrive here, so could he.

A relieved smile crept onto his face. If I keep moving, I might finally be in the clear.

The First Signs of Danger

A few kilometers in, something changed.

The forest grew eerily silent. No birds, no rustling leaves—just a heavy, unnatural stillness. Kuma slowed his steps, gripping his spear tightly. His instincts screamed at him.

Then, the wind shifted.

A sharp, musky scent filled his nose. It was unfamiliar—something primal, something dangerous. His eyes darted around, scanning the surroundings. The underbrush ahead had been trampled, grass flattened unnaturally, as if something massive had passed through.

He crouched, running his fingers along the crushed grass. It was fresh.

A sense of dread coiled in his gut. Whatever had done this was still nearby.

Then he noticed the animals.

A herd of small creatures—rodents, rabbits, even a few Squabbits—were fleeing. They darted past him in a frenzy, their eyes wide with sheer terror.

Kuma's breath hitched. He had seen this before—animals fleeing meant a predator was near. And not just any predator.

A big one.

The Looming Shadow

Then came the wind.

A powerful gust howled through the trees, bending branches, rustling leaves, sending debris flying. Kuma had to shield his face from the sudden force of it.

Something was coming.

The shadows stretched unnaturally before him, growing larger by the second. He turned his head skyward—and his breath caught in his throat.

A massive shape blotted out the sky.

The sun vanished behind it.

Kuma's heart pounded. He gripped his spear, but his fingers were slick with sweat. His mind raced. Run? Hide? Fight?

Whatever this was, it wasn't like the predators he had faced before.

It was bigger.

It was hunting.

The trees trembled as something was coming. A shadow loomed over Kuma, swallowing him in darkness. The winds were now much stronger. 

And then—