“Son of a bitch.” The laughing, which may have just been a figment of my imagination, had already faded into non existence, or was it never existence? For a long time, at least 30 minutes, there was no movement in my little corner of the woods. Not from me, the trees, or the boar’s corpse. When the pain in my chest had finally subsided, and I was breathing regularly again, I sidled out from under the boar on my ass.
The wooden spear that’d I’d lovingly carved that very same morning was pinned to the ground by hundreds of pounds of pork and feathers. The spear entered through the nose of the boar and exited out a man made hole behind its skull. The blood still dripped down the shaft, staining the previously light colored wood a dark red, and pooled on the ground. It’s probably weird to say, but the vibrant red looked really good on the autumn leaves scattered around the forest floor.
I didn’t think I would get that spear back. A real shame considering how long it took to carve. I decided I would call it an early day, partially because I was tired and partially because my knees would not stop shaking from excess adrenaline. I whipped out my knife and got to work setting up a campsite.
I was on my own now, so I would be spending the night in a tree. It would be a lot more uncomfortable, but I didn’t have someone here to stand guard while I slept so I was better off out of sight in the trees than on the ground. Short of another flying pig or harpy, I should be safer in the branches than on the ground. Several of the oaks around here looked sturdy enough to hold me, so I decided I would camp nearby.
Step one was spear recovery. I walked up to the deceased pig and eyed it. The creature was almost as large as I was and had to weigh at least 300 pounds. Combine that with a wingspan that was as long as I was tall and you had a very terrifying looking piglet. I stuck my foot on the back fat right below the neck and grasped my spear from where it was protruding from the boar’s skull. Each tug on the spear gave a little bit more until, several pulls later, the wooden pole came loose with a slurp and a pop.
Although it was disgustingly sticky and damp with blood, the overall integrity of the spear withstood the charge and was still in one piece. It would probably need to be sharpened again, or at least retipped, but the weapon was still useable. Speaking of weapons, I suddenly had an idea.
First up, I dug a hole with my hands and a flat-ish rock I found nearby. I wanted to clean the boar and see if I could salvage some meat and its tusks. The hole was for the entrails and whatever I didn’t cook tonight. There was already a chance that the smell of blood would draw predators, but I didn’t want to tempt them even further with decaying meat left out.
After a couple more hours I found myself the proud possessor of two very sharp, medium length boar tusks. Unlike most boars I’d seen in pictures, this boar’s tusks had jut straight forward rather than curving upwards, shaped more like horns. I wrapped the wide ends that had been located in the beast's jaw with hide to make a grip. I also roasted a few pounds of boar meat wrapped it in boar skin before stashing it in my pack. When my sinew finished drying out a week or so from now, I’d be able to use one of the boar tusks as a spear head, but for now they were really good for stabbing things, probably.
Without much more to do I dragged the rest of the boar’s corpse over to the hole I dug and buried it before casting my [Growth] spell back to back. This managed to convince the nearby vegetation to take to the carcass like a compost and explode into growth, burying it under a new born bush that looked at least a year old. There was a tugging sensation at the back of my head when this happened, like it was something I’d seen before in a dream. That was swiftly overwritten with a lightheaded spell from expanding my mana, so I crawled up into the tree I’d selected to sleep the night away.
Once I was cradled in my little nook far away from the forest floor, I realized that I was not tired yet. The sun was still shining through the trees, and my mind was still roaming. For the first time in a long time I started trying to interact with my interface and pulled up some information on my new skills and spells.
The farming was to be expected, considering I was raised on a farm and had access to a spell specifically catered to enable rapid farming. I was a little surprised to see how extensive the list had gotten since leaving home, but I guess it was to be expected considering how often I’d used the spell on various plants since leaving. I wondered how long it would take until the spell upgraded again, I’d heard it was one of the easier ones to master.
English was self explanatory, it being the primary language of the now collapsed union of states that Florida once belonged to. Arcanus, however, was news to me. I hadn’t read the skill definition for reading before, so this was the first time I was seeing it. After a couple moments of deliberation, I decided it must be the language that the spell pages are written in. Arcanus is close enough to Arcane, and the page for [Growth] is the only thing I can remember reading that wasn’t english. Definitely the only thing that I’d read and understood.
Guess that explains how the wooden spear I’d crafted didn’t snap in half when the boar plunged itself into it. Next!
Only one skill left.
Wow! That skill did a lot more than one would assume from the name. Reading the tooltips on my skills turned out a lot of good information, apparently, and I decided I would check upon gaining every new skill from now on.
I wondered how many people had ever discovered the evolution of [Growth]. The way the read out for entangling roots read, it had to be discovered in combat. I imagined that a spell sold for a copper to dirt-poor farmers in Florida didn’t have many widely-known combat applications. I started scheming on how I could capitalize on this knowledge. Maybe one day I’d be able to settle down and buy up tons of the spell pages before releasing the knowledge, sell them all out to the public at a big profit.
Either way I was starting to feel a bit tired, so I decided I would let sleep take me after all. I didn’t dream much that night, just fell into a thoughtless slumber. A slumber that ended far too abruptly shortly thereafter.
