He woke to his usual morning routine, of sharpening his tools, which included his axe, and his knifes. It was a routine that calmed him every morning since they got here, it made him feel like..
Everything was right with the world.Even though he was just being delusional.
And he couldn't even blame him self.
The past few days had been strianous, but peaceful, and he would take that over all the fighting for your life and entering that evil forest any day.
Every time he stepped into that cursed place, he felt death breathing down his neck.
He wasn't even wrong, the forest had nearly killed him more than once, its just madness lurking in every shadow. And today, was the day, he had to go back in.
Alone.
Femi's fear grew as he contemplated facing the forest's dangers alone. Why did he have to go by himself? Even as Varga had assured him that the snares close to their new camp were relatively safe, she had still warned him to stay vigilant.
Stating the edge of the north,were still dangerous and one could still die from any direction, pointing out the Eri's sudden appearance as an example.
Her words made his fears worse.
Every rustle of leaves, every distant snap of a branch sent his pulse racing. The memory of his previous close calls made his unease all too real. If something happened now, there'd be no one to help him. No one to watch his back.
Why did it have to be him alone?
But what could he do? The Krags had been treating him better since the incident, but that didn't mean he could slack off. Varga would never excuse him from work, no matter how much he dreaded it. Maybe if he put on his best chubby baby impression… he mused, half-seriously. She might laugh, might even spare him for today but how long would that last?
Lately, she'd been relentless in her training, drilling survival into him with grim determination. So I don't die a worthless death in that accursed forest, he thought, echoing her words. The weight of it settled in his chest.
With a sigh, he muttered, "I'd better get this over with."
As if she'd heard him, Varga appeared around the corner of the old house, her boots crunching on the snow.
She'd been looking for him, and now had finally found him. Arms planted on her hips, she fixed him with a suspicious stare.
"Femi,"she called, voice sharp. "It's time."
Why that look? He thought, displeased by her suspicious gaze. It wasn't like he was purposely hiding from her, he just didn't want to be easy to find. Just in case she might send him off to his possible death in the forest.
With a grumbling sigh, he hopped down from the big rock he'd been sitting on, shooting her a sidelong glance as he suddenly remembered something. "She called me her spoil". A creature she now considered hers, a hound.
So is all this training just hound training.he wondered to himself.
-----
Varga studied him as he trudged toward her, attitude in every step. The elders had spoken of ratfolk as cowardly, stupid things, barely smarter than goblins, weak unless they are swarming, their only advantage being their ability to reproduce.
She'd taken him simply for is race traits. A ratling's nose was sharp, their reflexes quick. A living tool. A hound, easily disposable.
Yet Femi wasn't what she'd expected.
At first, she'd dismissed his flinching at shadows, his endless complaints, as weakness. But now? Caution.And his mind, was sharp, and full of stories that carried a weight of wisdom far beyond one would expect from his race. Knowledge that made him seem… older. Different.
Femi fell into step beside her as they moved toward the camp's edge, his clam but shoulders tense. She was quiet, but her gaze lingered on him, as she continued with her thoughts.
He had proven his courage against the Eri not with brute strength like the others of her kind, but with cunning. Something most Krags would not have considered. She certainly hadn't and she had thought herself different from the rest, but had fought the creature head-on, recklessly and had gotten the lives of many who were put under her command to be wasted.
Some of the krags had given her credit for the win, since Femi was hers and she had landed the killing blow. But she knew the fight had already been decided, they would all have been dead if not for him.
He had no reason to come back, yet he did. And not only did he return, but it was because of him that they had survived. She didn't know how to feel about any of it. The only thing she was certain of was the debt she owed. And the best way she knew to repay it was to teach him everything she knew about survival.
------
Femi's sighed, as they reached the camp's edge. Around them, Krags hammered and sparred, but their noise began fade as they got further away.
They passed the edge into the forest's eerie silence. Neither he nor Varga spoke.
He step forward away from varga, his fingers twitching towards his belt, checking his knife, rope, flint all there. Not that it eased the knot in his stomach.
Behind him, Varga's stare prickled against his back. He glanced over his shoulder, she hadn't moved. Still as a sentinel, arms crossed, watching.
Femi gulped.He sighed, "Ah, Let's get this done." Moving away from her into the forest path.
Under Varga's unblinking stare, Femi crept toward the tree line. His claws dug into his palms as he pushed through the first curtain of brush, branches scraping his arms like grasping fingers. One step. Then another.
He shouldn't look back.
He shouldn't look back.
He looked back.
"She still dey look".he whispered to himself in frustration.
Varga was just starting now at his back.
He had no choice but to continue forward deeper into the woods till she was no longer in sight.
He was now all alone!
It felt like any second now, something would burst from the undergrowth and devour him whole.
The thought made him even more paranoid, for weeks he'd been safely surrounded by Krags, their hulking forms a constant barrier between him and the forest's horrors. Now only rustling leaves kept him company.
A twig snapped.
Femi whirled, axe already in his hands before his mind registered the movement. His claws dug into the worn handle as his ears swiveled wildly. Something was coming. Something hungry. Something-
Silence.
Minutes stretched as he stood frozen, muscles taut. He could feel every breathe, he took. The camp's safety called to him like a siren song, just a short sprint away.
But Varga's mocking glare burned brighter in his imagination than any forest terror. "Ran back empty-handed like a suckling pup, did you?" He could already see her lip curling.
Gritting his teeth, Femi forced himself forward. The snares weren't far. He just had to-
Another crackle of foliage.
Then Silence again.
"Enough of this nonsense, why should I be afraid?"Femi muttered to himself. This thoughts of "Bush babies? Spirits? Were becoming too much, It's just rabbits. How hard could it be?"
With a sigh of resignation, he accepted the inevitable, he had to empty the snares. Unless, of course, a dozen rabbits suddenly hurled themselves at him, begging to be choked to death one by one.
which is very unlikely.
Femi straightened his spine, forcing his fear down, and pressed deeper into the forest.
The next time a rustle cut through the silence, he reacted instantly, his knife flashed through the air, embedding itself near the source of the sound. He held his breath, pulse thundering, waiting.
Nothing.
After a few tense heartbeats, he retrieved the blade.
Progress.
He repeated the ritual with every snapped twig and whisper of leaves until his arm ached and frustration outweighed fear.
"I need a damn sling or catapult," he grumbled, catching his breath. Throwing this knives was exhausting.
But, he continues forward moving like a underpaid shadow, slinking from tree trunks to fallen logs, his cloak blending with the undergrowth, even though his brown cloak didn't work well with the snow.
He ducked behind thick bushes, melted into tall grass, and paused, listening. The snares were close.
Finally, he reached the snares and collected the rabbits.
"Thank the heavens, am done." He exhaled, relieved to be finished with this miserable task.
Then..
Snap.
A branch cracked behind him.
Femi stiffened. "Calm down,"he muttered. "Probably just the wind."
Growl.
His heart stopped.
Growl.
Direwolf.
"Of course," he thought, grip tightening on his axe. "This cursed forest won't let me breathe for even a...."
Slowly, he turned, bracing for fangs and fury..
Nothing.
Just trees and Silence.
"What in the...?" His eyes darted around. An invisible wolf? A ghost?
Then, another growl.
His body locked up as he traced the sound, downward.
And there it was.
A tiny, snow-white puppy.
Fluffy. Big-eyed. Trying to snarl, tiny teeth bared, its whole body trembling with the effort of its "ferocious"growl.
Femi stared.
Then, he laughed. A deep, disbelieving burst of relief.
"Hah! I thought Death itself had come for me!"He wiped his brow, grinning. "But no, it's just victim."
The puppy growled harder, as if offended.
Femi laughed again. "Oh, little fool. You've delivered yourself to me."