"Alright, project cool spearthrower version eleven test five in three... two... one... Go!" Sweat dripped from my face as, after an afternoon of failed prototypes and shaky throws, my sore and dirt stained arm arced forward, the spear once again staying horizontal with its tip resting against the bump on the back of my makeshift spearthrower. A few days of frequent practice had let me settle into something more of a form, my arm swinging with my body behind it as the stick in my hand went nearly vertical and the motion became more like pushing than swinging as not to angle the spear.
As the spear left its notch there was no last little twist to send it tumbling. No overconfident swing or error in carving. Instead it flew nearly horizontally through the air, the shaft flexing back and forth but never tilting too far overall until finally its point sunk into the dirt between the roots of a tree. It wasn't the longest ranged weapon but the spear still flew a damn sight farther than I could throw it on my own with weak arms and no training. I had proven myself as competent as neolithic man.
Nearly as competent, as a gurgle in my stomach oh so helpfully reminded my. I still had to check on my other project for the day. I couldn't identify much besides pine trees, garlic mustard, and blackberries so to call my diet unbalanced would be an understatement. It had kept me well alive for a couple days but my stomach already wasn't feeling too great and, while noticeable closer, the city in the distance was still pretty far away. I needed something with fat or protein to keep me going and in my current situation that meant meat. Now, my first plan was to carefully balance a rock so it's leaning on a stick and then put some berries next to the stick. Unfortunately, though, I forgot that unlike my homeland most places don't just have giant rocks lying around everywhere so I had to do some digging but I did manage to find a hunk of what looked like slate the day before and kept it on the sled. I set it up before starting carving for the day and, after a great deal of balancing work, made a deadfall trap. Now I just have to see if I've caught anything.
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It was a rabbit. Well, emphasis on was. I really think I should have anticipated this part but when you're hunting your own dinner you do have to look it in the face. Half of a face in this case. At least once I had it skinned I could just see it as a piece of meat but I hope getting to that point will get better with time. That or that I find some kind of job in the city once I learn a little more of the language and can start buying food.
Moving past that little obstacle I unfortunately had no experience working with rabbit and few other ingredients. What I ended up doing was cutting off strips, putting them on sticks, and holding them over the fire until I was damn sure nothing survived. They were dry, lean, overcooked, useasoned, and all around some of the worst pieces of meat I'd ever had. In that moment though, having had nothing but a handful of raw plants for days, having not even seen a piece of meat in over a week, they felt like the best thing I'd ever tasted.
One time as a kid my family took me hiking up Little Devils Stairs near Luray. It was a long and difficult hike, as the name suggests it was more like climbing stone steps than hiking in places, and as it was the winter and the hike crossed back and forth across a river there was an awful lot of ice. We meant it to be a bit of a challenge but by the time we got back to our car it was dark and I had bent my foot back and hurt my tendon for the next few months. When we got back though, I think the return hike ended up going down some old fire road, and we got to that car I finally had myself my reward for the ordeal. A bottle of ginger ale. My parents had originally gotten a pack for making dark and stormies so it was far more gingery than I would have liked at the time and the cold weather meant it's coldness was both unavoidable and a negative but as soon as that sweetness hit my tongue none of that mattered. It was like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds of the day. Eating that rabbit felt the same way but made only more intense by the days of hunger and constant work. I think I almost cried.
On the subject of hiking the way the city is looking on the horizon it'll only be another couple days but those days are likely going to be hell. It must have been at least a 7 or 8 degree incline. The road, on the other hand, was much shallower, presumably to accommodate carts, but snaked wildly to allow for that shallow an incline, greatly increasing the distance. The way things looked I was in for either a short stretch of hell or another day or two spent out in the woods and, as I remembered how hungry I had been after just a few days of pure survival, I was unfortunately leaning towards the latter.