Trade? Planning?

Day six arrived with the same biting cold, but the hunger was replaced by the dull ache of overstrained muscles. Ren moved stiffly, favoring his injured leg as he helped Liam rebuild the small fire. Liam's arm, bound in ragged tunic strips, was held protectively against his side, but he worked steadily with his good hand, feeding the flames small pieces of dry wood. They had eaten wolf meat last night and again this morning. It was tough and gamey, but undeniably sustaining.

They were preparing another portion of the wolf meat, skewering chunks on sticks to roast slowly over the fire for a midday meal, when a sound from the edge of their small clearing made Ren freeze. Liam looked up sharply, his hand instinctively going to his spear leaning against the nearby tree.

Two figures stood hesitantly among the dense pines, drawn perhaps by the thin plume of smoke or the scent of cooking meat. Ren recognized their grey tunics instantly. Other people. He didn't know them immediately, but their condition was starkly apparent even from a distance. One was taller but gaunt, his movements slow, eyes sunken. The other was smaller, shivering uncontrollably despite the weak sun filtering through the canopy. They looked utterly depleted.

The taller one, 021 Ren recalled from during drills, took a step forward, his gaze fixed on the small fire and the roasting meat. The smaller one,huddled behind him. Ren and Liam both reached for their spears, not aggressively, but holding them ready.

021 stopped a few yards away, swallowing hard. His voice was a dry rasp. "Food..." He didn't gesture, didn't need to. His eyes were locked on the skewers. He fumbled inside his tunic and pulled out a knife, holding it out uncertainty, hilt first. It looked much like Ren's own, but the wooden handle was heavily scuffed. "Trade," 021 rasped. "Knife... for food."

Ren looked at the offered knife, then at the two cadets. They were swaying slightly, clearly near the end of their endurance. Weak. Less of an immediate threat, perhaps, but desperation could make anyone dangerous. He glanced at Liam. Liam's face was wary, but he met Ren's gaze and gave the slightest of nods. The decision was Ren's.

A second knife would be useful. If one of them was fully incapacitated, the other still had a tool. It could speed up wood preparation, skinning if they caught something else, and countless small tasks. 

Ren gave a curt nod to 021. Keeping his spear loosely in his left hand, he used his own knife to push one of the cooked, smaller pieces of wolf meat off its skewer onto a flat stone near the fire. It wasn't a large piece, but still, food was food.

021 understood. He carefully placed his worn knife on the ground near the edge of the clearing, then stumbled forward, snatched the piece of meat from the stone, and retreated back to 045. They didn't wait, they huddled together behind a tree and began tearing at the meat with desperate fingers, watching Ren and Liam the entire time.

Ren walked over and picked up the second knife. The handle was rougher than his own, the balance slightly off, the edge visibly dull. Serviceable, but used hard or poorly kept. He gave it to Liam.

He and Liam watched silently as 021 and 045 finished the meat in seconds, then faded back into the forest without another word, vanishing as quickly as they had appeared.

The rest of the day was spent checking their traps unsuccessfully, and come night time Ren and Liam were tired. After a small meal of the leftover wolf meat, they decided to sleep and recover.

Day six Done. One remained.

The morning of the seventh day felt different. The hunger was lessened by the remaining wolf meat. Their injuries were stiff but manageable. They had survived six days. One final day remained.

As they shared a small portion of the previous day's roasted meat near the low-burning fire, Liam spoke, his voice quiet but clear in the morning stillness. "Tomorrow, we go back."

Ren nodded, chewing slowly. "We have to bring the items back. The instructor was clear."

"The knife, the tarp..." Liam paused. "And the book."

Ren looked at the slim, leather-bound volume tucked securely inside his own tunic. It had been invaluable, identifying the roots, showing them the snare design, the fire-hardening technique, the wound care basics even if they couldn't find the right leaves. Losing it felt wrong. "They'll take it," Ren said flatly. It wasn't a question. 

Liam kicked idly at the dirt near the fire pit. "Maybe... maybe we hide it? Before we get to the gate? To it later?"

Ren considered it, turning the idea over. Hide it where? Under the roots? In a crevice? How could they be sure they'd find the exact spot again? More importantly, how could they be sure no one was watching now? The instructors seemed to know everything. That instructor's order had been precise: "Return with the three items you selected."

"No," Ren decided, shaking his head. "Too risky. Finding a good spot, getting back to it... being seen. And the order was specific." He met Liam's gaze. "We bring the book back."

Liam looked disappointed for a moment, then seemed to accept the logic. "Right. Okay." He hesitated, then touched the place at his side where the second knife was presumably tucked. "What about... this one?"

That was different. The order was about the three selected items. This knife wasn't selected, it was acquired through trade. "That one," Ren said, keeping his voice low despite the clearing's isolation, "you keep hidden. We don't offer it. If they find it, they find it. If not..." If not, they would have a knife inside. A significant advantage.

Liam nodded, understanding the gamble. "Under my tunic wrap?"

"Leg strap might be better," Ren suggested. "Less obvious if they search waistbands."

With the decisions made, they turned to the remaining wolf meat. Following the book's guidance again, they spent hours carefully tending a low, smoky fire, using hardwood branches Liam found nearby. They sliced the rest of the meat into thin strips with both knives, the work going noticeably faster with two blades, and rigged a crude rack of green sticks over the smoky embers. The air filled with the pungent scent as the meat slowly darkened and dried.

By late afternoon, the meat was tough, chewy, and dark brown, preserved as best as they could manage. They packed it carefully, doused their fire thoroughly, scattered the ashes, and dismantled the lean-to, leaving little trace of their campsite near the stream.

They journeyed back towards the North Gate area, moving cautiously, reading the terrain. Ren carried his original knife openly at his belt, the tarp rolled and slung across his back, and the precious Book on the Wild secured inside his tunic. Liam moved beside him, his limp less pronounced today. Beneath his trouser leg, tightly bound against his calf with strips of cloth, was the worn second knife.

As dusk deepened, they found a concealed position in the forest within sight of the valley leading to the North Gate. They couldn't see the gate itself yet, but they knew the way. They settled down to wait for dawn, sharing a strip of the tough, smoke-dried wolf meat. Ren leaned back against a tree trunk, exhaustion settling deep in his bones. Task Finished.