//------------------------------//
// Part Eight 
// Story: Neil 
// by Ferrum Requiem 
//------------------------------//


Week Three: A Cure for Sorrow


Cloaked in moss with mud covering his face, Neil listened to the hoof steps drawing nearer beyond the misty brush. Each crunch of dead leaves and snap of fallen twig growing louder confirmed the deer was within range; yet, still it moved out of sight. It just needed to clear the nettle bushes. Patience. Ah, there it is. The game finally walked out to nibble a patch of grass.

Twenty yards away, perched high above in a tree, Neil pulled the string, set his middle finger in the right corner of his mouth, and took aim. He breathed, then released. The bow fired with a thwang, and the obsidian tipped arrow pierced the game's heart. It jumped and stumbled to run, but the drop in blood pressure sent it to the ground. It was over.

Neil hadn't used a bow since he was a kid; thankfully, it didn't take long to overcome his rustiness and draw first blood with the new bow. It did the job beautifully. Neil measured the weapon's draw strength at fifty pounds when he first strung it, plenty for his needs. Hopefully, it will hold that weight with continued use. If Neil followed every detail in Manly's book as well as he believed he did, it should. Only time will tell. For now, the hunter will enjoy this tool.

Artemis guarded Neil's back while he prepared the deer for transport back home. All is clear, for now.

Zecora's gift was a god send. The steel knife streamlined the gutting and dressing process. It made cleaner cuts than any stone knife could; but, most importantly, Neil didn't have to make a new blade if it dulled. The hunter would never look at steel the same way again. He truly understood now why ancient men revered this godly material.

Neil put the game basket on his back and tied the cords over his chest. This recent invention was a bamboo backpack built solely to carry game deer sized and under. Dragging kills home wasn't needed anymore. Hefting the dressed game, the hunter walked on with spear in hand. Home was thirty minutes due East. The hunting spot he picked was a portion of the forest with lighter tree density, making it better lit, but not by much, honestly.

After taking point and passing a huge tree, Artemis smelled something as the breeze shifted. It was hiding in the branches above! She looked up and growled to warn Neil.

Neil drew his bow just as he saw Scar bounding down the tree to land on top of him. Neil was encumbered by the deer and surrounded by thick brush and tall trees. He was cornered. It was a perfect ambush. Clever girl. Time seemed to slow down. By instinct, the hunter aimed with his eye and shot in Scar's flight path after he leaped off the lowest branch to come at Neil like a bullet.

Instead, Scar found the arrow. It pierced the hip section and pinned the wolf to the tree's mighty trunk. Scar hung there like a Christmas ornament, howling, snarling, and biting at the strong sap stained arrow shaft. Its angle of entry made it difficult to chew through.

Neil put the bow back over his shoulder. If he had only the atlatl instead, Scar would've succeeded. One week too late, symbiont.

Artemis snorted at her defeated enemy. Justice is sometimes an arrow to the hip.

They coldly watched Scar struggle for a moment, then resumed their journey home in peace. Maybe, Scar will now forget her stupid vendetta for Neil and leave him alone. One can hope.

Safely back at camp, Neil processed the deer and set the skin to tan, then placed most of the meat on his smoker. That should be finished at sundown. After dinner, he'll dry the remaining meat slowly in his cold smoke tipi. Smoked wild herb jerky should keep for a while.

The hut was almost finished as well. The door was ready, and walls were fleshed out with intertwined saplings and plastered mud to seal everything. The fireplace was also finished, with the roof standing strong and ready for the clay tiles; all that remained was firing the last set. Then, the hunter will finally have a real roof over his head. Staying in the lean-to was getting old, and he could use it instead for extra firewood storage.

As expected, the water clock was proving to be a pain in the ass: the pulleys weren't easy to make, and the rope needed to be as high quality as he could make it. Making each part was time consuming work; but, it was coming along.

Neil finished firing both the last of the pulleys and the roof tiles for the hut. He moved on to install the tiles and finish the structure of his new house. As Artemis swam and played in the brook, the last tile fit snugly in place on the roof and the door he pegged into the door well. It worked. Then, just like that, the job on the building was finally finished. Now, he needed furniture. A simple moss cot will do for now. He would test the fireplace later tonight.

But, there was no more time for chores. Neil had a celebration to attend with his new neighbor, a native of this strange hostile planet, the talking zebra. Washing himself in the cold brook, he prepared for the soiree by cleaning and polishing all his gear and garb. 

All his clothes from Earth were torn and otherwise destroyed. The last of his intact articles from Earth was his old diesel shoes. They would've been called casual back home; but, here they were the fanciest footwear he had. It's funny how the value of things can depend on the situation at hand. Neil wondered if value itself was entirely situational. Huh, now that's a question.

Neil took to the southern path in his clean hide garb, gear, and fancy footwear. The wilds, party or not, were only as safe as you were deadly. Where ever the hunter went, so did his tools. He even brought a newer toy he finished last night to show Zecora.

The duo walked cautiously and swiftly. 

Artemis and Neil arrived at the rushing river. Neil named this water way Serpent's Run, after the water dragon that lived these waters.  The two returned six days ago to Serpent's Run to gather Loki flowers. They hadn't seen the dragon since the first time. They looked for the purple dragon now. It was absent today as well. Good.

Artemis had grown up to Neil's calf and was a lot heavier than last week. So, she would ford the river alone today.

Neil watched her wade out into the fast current, and swim against it at an angle. She made it to the other side without much trouble! Impressed, he whistled.

Artemis sat on the sandy shore, then barked for Neil to come on and cross.

He crossed the water then scratched her head. She loved that. "Look at you, crossing all by yourself. Who told you to grow up so fast, girl?"

She looked up at him, blinking slowly and panting in sweet satisfaction.

Neil blinked back, then they continued to Zecora's. In theory, her hut shouldn't be too far off. He looked to the familiar Loki flower patch as they passed it, then looked to his hands. A rather revolting image came to mind from an unusual experience this week. He shivered.

After Neil returned here and harvested some Loki flowers six days ago, he figured out that with a wet cloth over his face he was able pick the flowers without being intoxicated. He discovered the flowers were coated with a fine bio luminescent dust. Neil figured that's the toxin the plant defends itself with. The dust went air born with the slightest contact; and, the area of effect was proportional to how much they were disturbed. 

He came up with a method of processing the Loki flower into an extract by making a tea with one whole flower. 

Neil micro dosed with two drops from a sharpened stick. All this was to inoculate himself from the plant's effects. The first four days were hell: the poison turned the bones in his arms into tendons, making them completely flexible and stretchy. They were actually like tentacle arms! He couldn't find the words to describe how disturbing it was that he could scratch his butt by going over and behind the shoulder. Disgusting.

However, his arms went back to normal after five days; two drops from the extract had bearable results. He would measure his tolerance by how many drops it took to have an effect. The starting point stands at two. He wondered if Mithridates had it easier?

He took a small break from inoculation for today's sake. Neil would start again tomorrow.

They continued on deeper into the lower forest where Patches chased Zecora. Neil searched for the path she mentioned. Then, he saw a parting in the brush. There it is. This was a completely unexplored part of the woods. They had to move cautiously.

At the end of the dark path, Neil spied what had to be the place. But, it was more like a tree house than a hut. Bottles with glowing substances hung by cords tied all around the tree and its branches. He wondered what purpose those served?

He knocked on the small door, and Zecora opened it and smiled. "Oh, Neil, and the timberwolf, just in time! I've opened the herb wine!"

"Sounds divine." 

She giggled. "A fine rhyme!"

Neil thought it was pretty funny how cramped the doorway was, yet inside he could stand comfortably. Curious. The smell of herbs with a hint of ceder filled his nose as he took in the decor. Zecora's hut was decorated like if a tribal medicine man had an interest in the apothecary trade and decided to live inside a tree. 

There were bottles of herbs and powders, and shelves of more of that kind. Pots, both hanging and sitting, held strange plants of all kinds he couldn't identify, except one, a lone tiny Loki flower sitting in a small window. There were also more shelves of jars filled with liquids containing all manner of things odd and freaky, animal, mineral, and vegetable. Hell, Neil wouldn't be surprised if she had eye of newt. 

Among the stations of tools to turn those ingredients into medicines, there was a large cast iron cauldron in the center of the home, filled with some bubbling glowing green goo. Neil hoped that wasn't dinner.

Zecora filled two clay cups with the herbaceous wine, then offered him one. "I've made plenty; so we can drink to our brink! Now, take a sip and let me know what you think." She waited anxiously of his opinion.

He smelled the deep purple liquid. It had a wine like sourness with a real herbal punch, almost like a spicy sangria. Well, bottoms up. He sipped it, and the flavor blew him away. It was the best wine he'd ever tasted. Nothing his parents let him have at home came even close. It was sweet, yet tart, and filled his soul with a soothing warmth, like each taste wrapped him in a ghostly hug that melted all his worries away.

What is this sorcery? He spoke bluntly, "This is nectar from the gods."

"Yes. It warms down to the marrow. This wine is called, A Cure for Sorrow. It is an old recipe from my home county." She sipped her cup and sighed in bliss. 

"So far, all the best things are from there."

"Ah, but do I agree, should I dare? It has been so long since I've lived there." She took a seat at her table and gestured for him to sit across from her.

Neil did so as Artemis lied down next to him.

"I remember my homeland as a filly." She recounted, "It was beautiful, its ponies wonderful, and we lived the plains freely." Zecora swirled her Cure for Sorrow in the clay cup and stared down into it as if to find some secret inside. "Yet, do I wish to see it now? I don't know. In fact, I don't think so."

Neil finished sipping his cup, then furrowed his brow. "Why?"

"Long have I lived as a nomad, for there is nothing left for me in my homeland."

"Were you pushed away, or something?"

She shook her head. "Nothing of the sort. My life there was well lived, but one I had to thwart. This life I chose, and my return would bring no repose." She took a swig of the medicinal wine.

Neil thought about it for a moment, then he saw her meaning. "Oh, your culture must be very family centric. You leaving would be considered a betrayal. No wonder you believe this, then."

Her eyes lit up and went wide with surprise. "Yes! You understand! Your gift of penetration is truly grand!"

Still, she didn't answer why she felt the need to thwart living with her family and people. Neil felt it best to leave that untouched for now.

Artemis saw how well Neil took to Zecora, and decided she would try to like her too. The wolf looked to the zebra, then blinked to her like she did for Neil.

Zecora returned the gesture with her eyes.

Artemis' tail wagged. Hey, the zebra understands! She's not so bad after all! The pony earned some of her respect, and she moved to sit down next to Zecora.

Neil still didn't understand fully what that gesture meant; but, Artemis warming up to Zecora was good news. "Uh oh, Zecora, you're in trouble now."

Zecora agreed, and pet the wolf gingerly. Artemis liked it. "Surely, I would never have believed a timberwolf in my home could be well received." She looked to Neil. "Too bad your skill at taming couldn't be applied to a chimera rampaging." She giggled, "Besides a distraction by maiming."

"I think Patches barely felt that dart to the eye."

"This Patches, as you named him, wouldn't have from a missile that small, even to the eye." She sipped her cup. "Chimera's of that size are hard to hurt and rarely die."

"Wait." He held up his hand. "Did you just call Patches a chimera?"

"Don't you?"

Neil face palmed, realizing he misplaced a detail regarding his mythology and completely forgot about that genus of monster. "I've been calling them symbionts; because, like timberwolves, they are in a symbiosis with other lifeforms. But, their particular case is already called a chimera. So, my genus is incorrectly applied."

Zecora looked to Artemis. "True, yet, there exists no name for timberwolves. Such knowledge has slipped through even the wisest hooves."

"Why is that?"

"Their bite is very poisonous, their tactics cunning, and their vengeance bloody. They are far too dangerous to study." 

Neil knew about the cunning and bloody part, but the first caught his interest. "Poisonous?"

She nodded. "Fatally so." Zecora tilted her head in wonder. "But, I sense not to you though?"

He shook his head. "The opposite. In fact, I'd be dead if it wasn't for Artemis. Her saliva cured my mort moss infection."

Zecora's ears shot up. "Arcanotoxin? How can that be? Only a concoction of sage's beard can cure it with guarantee."

Neil shrugged. "Sorry, I'm living proof that isn't the whole truth." Neil was amused by his own words. The rhymes were getting contagious.

Awestruck, Zecora took in the human under a new light. "Amazing. Such immunity must serve you well here, with impunity!"

Neil added, "It must be terrifying for your kind. Timberwolves are dangerous enough, even for me. I can only imagine how hard they are to deal with if only one bite can kill you."

"True." She sighed. "Fortunately, you rarely cross one when avoiding the Zap apple tree, even in the Everfree."

"Zap apple tree?"

Seeing his confusion, Zecora rose and walked across the hut, then took a pot with a small dead looking tree and brought it to the table. She showed it to him. "Have you not seen these?"

It bared a striking resemblance to the large dead tree in his camp, but bonsai sized. Interesting. Why would the symbionts have a relationship with something so innocuous?

Zecora explained, "It is a tree whose fruit are sweeter than syrup from the maple. Jam from its zap apples are a highly prized staple."

"I've never seen one fruit anything. They look dead."

"They do, until zap apple season comes, then everypony runs!" Zecora holds her hooves out like she was holding something. "Baskets in hoof, eyes turned up, they scramble to gather all the apples before their time is up. Then, the fruit vanish."

"They vanish?" Neil exclaimed his skepticism by opening his hands like they were exploding. "Just like puuh, vanish?" 

"More like a pop." She hit her cheek with a hoof while her mouth was open, making a sound like a loudly dripping faucet. "Absurd, is it not?"

Neil rolled his eyes and drank more wine. "Frankly, everything about this planet is absurd."

A pot whistled on a fired brick stove in the kitchen just across the room. Zecora checked on it, then turned to him with a tilted head. "Are you hungry?"

"Starved."

She placed the clay ware pot on the table and poured some stew into a bowl. It smelled earthy and rich like a creamy mushroom stew. He took the offered bowl and sampled it. Indeed, it was a cream of mushroom. This was a delicious comfort food. Finally, a real meal.

Zecora smiled, seeing how much he enjoyed the dish. "So, you're not liking your time here, my friend? Does my homeworld offend?"

"No offense," he pointed to the door in disgust, "it's a nightmare out there."

She nodded. "Life in the Everfree can be cruel; strength, cunning, and savagery are often the rule."

"Well, I guess I made it too obvious I'm not from here." Neil added sarcastically, "I should work on that."

Zecora shrugged. "True, but the moment we spoke I knew."

Neil sighed, reflecting on the impossibility of blending in with the society of this planet. He thought a Gray in a pink wig would have a better chance in Roswell, or maybe Los Angeles, yeah, definitely Los Angeles.

With her words still hanging in the air, Zecora watched Neil think for a spell, then asked, "Although, one mystery eludes me: how came you here, and from what frontier?"

Neil recalled to her his tale of how he went from a mere teenage earthling to what he is now.

Zecora took in his story like a fine wine. "So, you're a hunter from the sky?"

"I suppose I am."

This human was turning out to be the most interesting thing Zecora had ever known. "This Trisha, is she a female?"

"Yes."

"Ah, is she your mate?"

Neil coughed on some stew. "Ugh, no, just good friends since we were kids. Nothing more."

Zecora saw in his aura he was fighting something about that statement. "Neil, may I speak honestly?"

He nodded. "I appreciate honesty."

"Truly? Then listen well, for no lie will I tell." She leaned closer. "For a boy and girl to remain simply best friends is difficult to maintain long. The natural pull of love between compatible mates is doomed to become unceasing and strong."

Neil paused for a moment, studying Zecora's unyielding gaze closely, then he finally answered. "A relationship between a man and a woman can be platonic." He frowned. "So, I have no idea what you mean." 

She smiled warmly. "I think you do, and your heart does too."

The boy wanted to tell her to mind her own beeswax; but, she was right, as infuriating as that was. Who was he kidding?

She saw him come to terms with what he was repressing. "Why have you denied yourself this gift? Surely, it proves self destructive. Why not desist?"

"I haven't told her because I don't want to ruin our friendship should she not feel the same way. I don't want the way she sees me to change. Trisha is all I've got, besides my folks." Neil felt so strange telling this to an alien he met only briefly once before; but, he felt like he could tell Zecora anything. Besides, she's been sharing deep intimate things with him. Why not join in?

Zecora pondered what he said. Then squeezed her hooves together hard enough they shook between the empty clay wine cup. It creaked under the stress.

Neil was about to ask why she was breaking the cup, then it shattered.

"This is how you view friendship, Neil. This fact I must reveal." She gestured to the broken remains of a once perfectly usable cup on the floor. "You believe it is to hold tight, and squeeze for every fear your friend might leave despite." She leaned back into her seat. "But, this is not right. A true friendship is deeper than the night, stronger than steel, tighter than tight." She pointed at him. "If this Trisha left you over such a natural thing, believing your feelings a slight, let her go, leave without a fight, for that friendship was a lie! It is better to be alone than suffer in love doomed to die."

"I disagree." Neil clicked his tongue. "I've suffered the last three and a half weeks in this hell you call a forest, scared, hurt, and alone. I do not think being alone is better than even a lie doomed to die."

Zecora listened with warm consideration, then calmly replied, "If lies are your sole stock an store, than I shall say no more."

Neil sat dumbfounded by this zebra's wisdom. He couldn't counter argue without sacrificing reason for fear. She was right. Maybe he should tell Trisha how much she meant to him?  "I'll think about it."

Zecora took a third cup from the table, and poured herself more Cure for Sorrow; then refilled his cup. "You must do what you believe is right, Neil. The path is all I can reveal."

Yeah, right. "Actually, it doesn't matter. I'm stuck here anyway."

Zecora tilted her head. "Displaced, yes. Stuck, no. Your journey has a while yet to go."

Neil shrugged his features. "What does that mean?"

"Hunter from the Sky, you will find your way home, as assured as laughter is to Pinkie Pie."

Welp, so much for the lack of riddles.

A silence fell between the two. Neil played with a mushroom bit in the almost empty bowl. "What do you call this land?"

"Equestria."

"And, this forest?"

"The Everfree."

He laughed. "That name is deceitfully nice."

Zecora added, "And, those who fail to realize pay a heavy price."

"Amen." Neil saw Artemis's ears point up, then she left the hut through the front door by unlatching it with her paw. Wow. When did she learn to do that? He pointed at all the ingredients around them. "Speaking of price, you must have a thriving business with all this medicine."

Zecora tilted her head in slight agreement. "To a degree. In reality, my trade is more attributed to spirituality."

"You're a priest, then?"

She waved a hoof in a so so manner. "More or less. That was a good guess. In truth, I am an alchemist."

Neil's eyes went wide. "Well, no wonder you live in the middle of no man's land! So, where's all your gold?"

She gasped. "You know of the grand secret?"

"Uh." He eyed side to side. "Yeah. You turn lead into gold, right?"

She narrowed her eyes and studied his aura very closely. It didn't make sense. "Human, you possess knowledge beyond your own attainment. Have you been instructed in the mysteries before your displacement?"

"Instructed? No. No one teaches alchemy on Earth." Neil frowned sheepishly. "No offense; but, where I come from alchemy is nonsense."

Zecora paused for a moment to reconcile this news. "Neil, you believe I turn literal lead into literal gold?"

"Well, sure you do. What else could Alchemy be? That's why kings banned its practice on my planet in the old times. They didn't want people having gold factories should it be real."

"Forgive me if I express my dismay at what you say. That belief, my friend, is truly old." She scooched her seat closer to him. "When you saved me from the manticore, that was a demonstration of gold. Should you have left me to my demise, then lead would have been your prize."

"You mean the metals in Alchemy are...."

"Symbolic."

"Symbolic for what?"

"That, my friend, is the mystery of the mystery."

Neil bit her claim. "Okay, so, what would you even do with this gold if its not actually gold?"

Zecora gestured to her array of potion stuff. "For instance, the potions that I brew helped me make contact with you."

Neil's amused smirk melted away as a nagging question in the back of his mind resurfaced. He still didn't know how he was suddenly able to talk to Zecora. Surely that gas would've worn off by now. And yet, it hasn't. Why? He beguiled fancy unto fancy until a wild explanation emerged. "What, the gold gives you powers or something, like magic?"

She smiled deeply. "Yes. Everything around us is magic, failure to know this would be tragic."

Neil nervously laughed. "Okay. That's a little too weird for me." He found the idea of magical aliens less palatable than telepathic ones. He gets science fiction, but fantasy? He's read enough Tolkien to know what living in a magical world can get you. No thank you. Yet, his denial did nothing to remove the pit forming in his stomach.

Zecora sighed in bitter sweet realization. "Ah. You're not ready yet. I understand. Know that I will be here and answer your questions should you ever need or demand." She thought for a spell, then rose and walked to the cauldron. Over it, Zecora poured a few liquids and sprinkled some powders. The contents of the cauldron exploded with a poof, sending up a green mushroom cloud. Zecora scooped the cloud with a glass bottle and closed the lid. Inside swirled a green vapor.

Neil watched her closely. What was she planning to do with that?

"Neil, I have one more gift for you; actually, it's a gift for two." 

"What is it?"

"It is another Elixir of Comprehension. I gave you one just before our first conversation."

Neil nodded for her to go ahead.

Zecora uncorked the bottle and the cloud wafted over Neil.

It smelled like pine and earth, and he coughed. "So, how long until-"

"Daaaad!" called from outside the hut.

Neil turned to the voice and watched awestruck as Artemis opened the door to come back inside. She was excited over something.

"Dad! There's a squirrel outside! Ooooh, I hate those things! Get your bow, quick!" She stood by the bow leaning on the wall near him and said, "Squirrels are only good for hats!" She saw him sitting there, staring at her with a scary look on his face, like he saw a monster or something. She looked behind to see it, but saw nothing.

It can't be. Is that really Artemis talking? Neil looked to Zecora. 

The mystic smiled deeply, and nodded, answering the impossible question burning in his mind.

"Dad? Are you okay?"

He turned back to the young timberwolf. Artemis thinks he's her dad? "Yeah. I'm fine. You can understand me?"

She tilted her head. "Of course I can, like always." Then, she realized something. "Wait, can you hear me, like what I'm saying back?"

"Yes. I can."

"Oh, this is so great!" She jumped up with joy. "I thought our communication was great before, but now you can hear me back!" She looked to Zecora. "Did you do this?"

"Yes."

"Thank you!" Artemis went to rub on Zecora's legs like a cat. "You're awesome. I like you. Hey, wanna be in our pack?" She looked back to Neil. "Dad, can she join our pack?"

"I would be honored, little one, if your father says it can be done." Zecora glanced to Neil.

He shrugged and shook his head. "Uh, okay."

Artemis howled a little howl. "We're a pack of three now!"

Neil rose and gathered his gear. "We should be going, Artemis." There was much to think about, and the day was growing late.

"Okay!" She moved to sit by the door and wait.

Zecora held the door for them.

"Thank you for everything, Zecora." Neil shook her hoof.

"Don't be a stranger, neighbor."

"Wouldn't think of it."

Artemis waved from outside. "Bye Zecora!" Just as Zecora returned the gesture, while Neil stood by Artemis, she smelled something terribly familiar on the shifting breeze that sent her instincts on high alert. "Dad! The monster, ambush!"

Neil's blood ran cold.

Zecora's eyes widened.

The tall undergrowth roared and exploded. Patches was waiting, hidden all this time in the shadows until the wind betrayed him. He would get those insects this time and make them pay for their insolence.

"Run!" Neil knew they had to get some distance before they could defend themselves. Patches was a steam rolling murder machine. If he closed in to make good on the ambush, he would rend everyone like a blender. Distance was all that mattered now.

The two ran into the forest, leaving behind Zecora as she shouted their names. Neil looked back to see if she was in danger. She wasn't, but he was. He shouted for her to stay.

Patches ignored the stripy one, and instead pursued the two legs and the annoying wolf that followed him.

Neil and Artemis ran into the dark mists of the Everfree forest, deeper and farther than they ever dared to go. For however horrible the secrets lying in its depths might be, an even worse nightmare was in hot pursuit just behind, a terror they knew would hunt them until the bitter end.

Distance is all that matters.

Faster and harder Neil pushed his burning limbs through the encumbering strain of retreating for what felt like hours. Artemis panted, still following close.

They heard Patches a short distance behind, flattening foliage and snapping small trees aside, grunting and snarling all the while. It seemed more and more like what hunted them wasn't a beast, but an inexhaustible thirsting demon.

That demon was gaining on them. Even after all this time, Patches still kept coming! If Neil stopped to breathe, Patches would catch up in minutes, then it would be over. He had to lose this freak and fast. The hunter from the sky didn't know how much longer his body could stand this stress. It felt like his lungs were on fire. He was dizzy, lightheaded, making it hard to focus.

The night drew close. As the canopy above dimmed to total darkness, only the natural glow of the Everfree's alien fauna tenuously illuminated the suffocating gloom in pockets. Now it was hard to see as well.

But, Neil knew Patches could see.

Scared, Artemis said, her voice cracking, "Dad, he's gonna catch us!"

Oh god.

Neil has to lose this freak! It's now or never!

They entered a clear parting in the thicker tree growth. Neil struggled to see anything of value.

Artemis can see in the dark and she pointed ahead. "It looks like a straight shot over to a ravine."

"We go there!"

They sprinted to the hiding spot, but in their path a growling beast blocked them.

Neil recognized that growl.

Artemis knew that smell. 

Scar drew close enough even Neil could see him in the dim glow.

Neil sneers at him. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"Dad," Artemis warned while hunching down into a defensive stance, "I smell more of them! Scar's not alone."

Neil grits his teeth, annoyed, and afraid. Patches is going to catch them. "Scar, I don't have time for your bullshit right now!"

Then, a war party of twelve other timberwolves emerged. Neil and Artemis were surrounded with no way to get passed.

"So, it's come to this, huh?" Neil gripped his spear with white knuckles then pointed it at Scar. "You couldn't beat me alone. So, you've brought some friends? Cute." He pointed behind with a thumb. "Well, I hope you brought enough groupies for our third guest." Neil smiled a menacing grin. Maybe, this was just the thing he needed. 

Patches caught up, announcing his arrival by snapping a young pine tree with a swing of his paw. The beast's blood chilling gaze settled upon the two legs, his timberwolf, then he saw thirteen more things to squash. Perfect.

All the timberwolves faltered upon the sight of Patches and drew closer to their alpha. Scar stood more angry at the interruption than afraid.  

"Have fun, Scar!" Neil bolted for his escape; but, Scar and two other wolves got in his way. Typical.

Patches was going to dice up the two legs from behind, but ten of the thirteen wolves attacked him. Fine, they get smashed first.

Yes! It's working! They're keeping Patches distracted. It seemed Neil knew Scar as well as he believed. The freak wasn't going to let anything, not even Patches, get in the way of whatever stupid vendetta he has for the human.

Even so, Neil and Artemis had to fight off Scar and two of her pack mates to escape.

"Dad, you take out Scar first." Artemis coldly eyed the other wolves at Scar's side. "I got the other two."

Neil agreed. He opened the offensive by shooting an arrow at Scar, then attacked the wolf with his hatchet ferociously.

Scar dodged the agate tipped missile, and retreated from Neil's surprisingly capable attacks. The two legs had gotten much better in the short time since they last fought.

All that sparring with Artemis was finally paying off. Neil Kept Scar on the defensive. His winding blows missed at first, but they drew closer until Scar had to attack to avoid taking a hit.

Scar lunged just under the hilt of Neil's weapon, and the stone axe head struck a glancing blow to the beast's thigh.

Neil pivoted his weight to the left leg while Scar tried to snap his jaws over the boy's head, biting down on his forehead and chin. At best it would cost the human his nose. However, Neil let himself fall with the attack while pushing with his knees. Drawing a knife all the while, Neil rolled onto his back, drove the knife into Scar's belly, and kicked the beast off with its own momentum.

Scar stood back up and realized a knife was stuck in his stomach, just as an arrow pinned his right paw to the ground. What?! Scar's hatred for the two legs burned as he hastily chewed and pulled at the missile to free the paw.

Neil looked to see how Artemis was doing, and he found her doing pretty well in a two on one battle. The sparring payed off for her as well. Then, Neil caught a glance of Patches slaughtering Scar's warband. The ones that weren't regenerating from being demolished, like lego buildings tossed at a wall, were avoiding his attacks by crawling on his back and biting in vein. Clearly, Patches had survived enough bites he became immune to whatever venom timberwolves have. 

Time to go. Neil had to end this fight with Scar. He drew the new weapon he forgot to show Zecora, the maquahuitl, an obsidian bladed weapon of South American origin, which was effectively a stone age sword.

"Dad!" Artemis screamed.

Neil looked and saw one of the wolves had broken away from Artemis while the other stayed and fought her. It was sprinting right towards him to help its Alpha. Well, we'll see about that. The wolf rushed in to attack Neil's legs and trip him; but, he swung the maquahuitl and decapitated the beast with ease. "Artemis, we're leaving!"

Artemis headbutted the last wolf clinging to her and sprinted to dad. The wolf gave chase. She took to Neil's side, and saw him split the chasing timberwolf's head with the new weapon. Yikes. She followed as dad bolted for the ravine. 

Scar pulled his paw free, and watched his two pack mates regenerate after the two legs felled them. The bipedal freak had escaped. Scar knew where the blame lied for this, that manticore. Cold eyes locked on the battle, Scar turned to help his warband fight the chimera and regroup.

Neil and Artemis ran for their lives as the two parties fought savagely behind them in the dark forest.

They covered as much distance as their tired bodies could handle.

Neil was spent, he couldn't go another mile without collapsing. They stopped by a great ancient tree.

Artemis slumped and leaned on its massive trunk to rest and cool down. "Dad, we should cover ourselves with mud to mask our scent."

Covering up in mud to hide, like in Predator? He spied some low laying branches they could clime. "If they can't smell us, then we should rest up in this tree too."

Artemis finished rolling in a mud puddle, then looked up in disgust. "What, with the squirrels? Blegh."

Neil stood after slathering himself in mud. "No, yum."

The wolf giggled. "I see what you did there."

They climbed the ancient tree and Neil lied down on one of its mighty branches and supported his head on the great trunk. Artemis nuzzled in on top of him. He wrapped his arms around her to make sure she didn't fall off during the night.

She whispered sleepily, "Night, dad."

Hidden high above from the hostiles below, the hunter finally had time to process that Artemis considered him a father figure. Thinking back on their history surviving together, Neil squeezed his sleeping daughter ever so slightly. Dad, huh? He could get used to that. "Good night, girl." 

The muddy survivors spent the night undisturbed, with their thirsting enemies patiently searching somewhere in the darkness below.