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Prologue1,964 words
Part One4,247 words
Part Two5,207 words
Part Three6,396 words
Part Four9,715 words
Part Five6,066 words
Part Six4,360 words
Part Seven8,333 words
Part Eight6,379 words
Part Nine10,166 words
Part Ten11,122 words
Part Eleven17,435 words
Part Twelve13,868 words
Part Thirteen11,314 words

Part Seven

Week One: Scar

Seven days after Oath Day, sweat rolled down Neil's nose as he struggled to push the ground. "Twenty... nine." Arms shaking, he slowly let himself down, then pressed out one final push up. Gritting teeth and shrugging his reddened face, he nearly collapsed from the strain. "Th-thirty!" Neil released with a grunt and face-planted to the dirt. He rolled to lie on his back and do bicycle crunches.

This was arm and abs day, a Sunday.

After finishing the routine two sets of push-ups, pull-ups, and crunches, he took a few fish to roast from the trap in the brook's pool. He made this yesterday: a conic basket weaved from ebony bamboo strips. Once the fish swam in to eat some crayfish bait, they couldn't escape.

Occasionally, the trap would be empty and he had to spear some. He could effectively fish with a spear now. Six days ago, Neil began practicing his spear throwing skills. He can almost hit a fish from the shore.

Four days ago, Neil discovered the brook wasn't the sole fishing source nearby. The brook flowed down hill, Eastward. An hours walk following it lead to a small lake.

Neil spiced the trapped fish with wild oregano and roasted them with a side of baked wild potatoes, stone age fish and chips. Later, he strapped into his backpack then ventured East on sore legs to gather supplies from the lake.

Artemis followed close behind, a collar gently hugging around her neck, made from the pelt of a rat, her first kill. Her growth rate was surprisingly rapid, having since grown from ankle to shin height in one week.

The two survivors continued their walk to the lake. Artemis' ears and glowing green eyes scanned the surroundings. Neil held his spear close and kept the stone hatchet latched to his side on backup. Homebase stood at the large peak of an expansive hill, and the brook flowed down the steep incline. Descending the hillside was tedious. Neil used the spear like a staff and eased himself down.

While midway to the lake, Neil felt something in the distance, like he was being watched.

Artemis halted, arched her back like a cat in Halloween, then growled.

Neil readied his spear, unlatched the hatchet, and reminded himself of his knife placement while tightening the dart quiver strap over his chest; the insects silenced. Something is out there. The warrior listened and waited in the shifting quiet of the shadowed forest. Nothing came and the bugs resumed their chatter. Artemis eased, but crept onward cautiously. Neil followed. Their senses on full alert, the rest of the trip proved uneventful. Whatever it was, it moved on.

The lake had stocks of fish and fresh vegetation galore. A sweet purple melon with yellow insides grows there in the shallows by the mouth of the brook, were the watercress beds also grow. Each melon was the size of a large grapefruit, had the texture of pineapple, and tasted like honey lemonade. The fruit was from the gods. Neil dubbed this divine substance a polymelon, after Polyhymnia, the Muse of agriculture. He named this Lake Terpsichore, the muse of dance and chorus, because she shared interests with Polyhymnia.

A bitter wild grain also grew in the pebbles of the shore. After soaking for three days in some fired clayware, the flavor turns nutty and a bit sour. The plant naturally earned the name, bittergrain. It was palatable as porridge, and could make a decent sour dough one day, given some more testing.

Neil watched Artemis stand in the lake's cool water by some patches of cress. Roots splayed out from her paws under the surface, she sighed in contentment. It never failed to amaze Neil how the symbiont drinks. It uses a root system from its paws to nourish itself, but never by mouth.

The young wolf kept watch in the water while Neil drank and took two handfuls of cress to snack on. The watercress was refreshing and spicy.

Neil sat beside a polymelon patch to rest for a spell, and eat some melons. He offered a chunk to the wolf. She sniffed it. Disinterested, she walked away to the shore and resumed watching the forest for danger.

I have yet to see Artemis eat anything. Does she need to eat, or merely drink and absorb nutrients like a plant? Neil wondered if Artemis's mouth was meant for communication and fighting only. He filled his pack with polymelons and its pockets with grain, ate another divine fruit, and left for home.

Thirty minutes into the trip, when crossing a darker foggy portion of the forest, the eerie feeling returned. The insects shut up, and Artemis froze then growled. This time, something growled back from the darkness.

In the tenuous light, Neil saw a timberwolf emerge from under the dark sprawling roots of a massive ancient tree. Its glowing murderous eyes glared into Neil's soul with intensity. The beast paused in sufficient lighting. A large scar across the left eye betrayed the wolf's identity.

"That scar," Neil snarled; "It's you!" It was the one that tried to kill him before, Scar.

Scar viciously returned the snarl in kind.

Artemis tilted her head and eased a bit. It's one of her people! Why is she so angry? She barked at the other wolf, asking who she was.

Scar considered Artemis for a moment, but said nothing. Only one thing dominated her eyes after retraining them on Neil: kill.

Neil neglected to unlatch the hatchet and root his spear in the ground.

Scar lunged from the roots like a missile, its jaws open to accept his neck.

Neglect Kills.

Artemis jumped and caught Scar with a headbutt to the side.

Scar crashed into Neil instead of biting his neck.

The three tumbled in one mauling, biting, and punching pile down a misty incline. The backpack ripped free from Neil before they hit the bottom. Neil kicked Scar off and stood while fumbling to free the hatchet from the leather loop.

Scar took advantage and rushed in.

But Artemis intervened by standing in her way. Why is Scar doing this? Has she gone mad? Artemis bared her teeth. If this one doesn't stop, she won't hold back. She saw just how much Scar towered over her as the rouge wolf approached. Scar's a monster.

Features stoic as stone, Scar savagely smacked Artemis hard with a paw to the head, sending the smaller wolf crashing to the forest floor in a daze. She moved to end the two legs with renewed prejudice.

That freak hit Artemis. Neil bared his teeth and drew the hatchet in one hand, then a knife in the other. He fixed the most blood chilling scowl he could muster into the symbiont's burning eyes. The combatants circled in the thin mist of the dark forest, measuring each other up. Neil kept his weapons at the ready, while Scar coldly studied his every move for weaknesses

Neil faked a lunge to test the beast. Scar remained unfazed, not flinching in the least. Like a machine she circled just beyond reach of Neil's weapons, but close enough the boy couldn't simply run.

Inexperienced Neil decided to take the offensive with a step forward; he didn't know the stride was too wide and moved his center off balance.

Scar immediately attacked straight into his weakened center.

The hunter realized his mistake too late as Scar plowed into Neil's stomach with his hard wooden head, knocking the wind out of the human.

Scar went for the throat, but chomped into the two leg's arm after her leg caught on something. Her teeth tore through shirt and flesh. It tasted almost as foul as the first time.

Neil drove the knife in Scar's back with all his might, breaking the flint tip into the supple wood. Scar howled and staggered, then hopped up to swat Neil in the face, sending him stumbling away with the momentum.

Neil felt dizzy and weak at the knees. This symbiont hits like a boxer.

Scar turned her cold gaze back to the stuck leg, and found Artemis biting it. Furious, Scar howled to her not to interfere! She shook the little wolf off and into the air with several powerful sweeps of the leg.

Neil saw Artemis hit a tree and fall unconscious to a plat of lichen. Enraged, wide eyes fixed on Scar, the human charged and reared his hatchet to split Scar's skull and finish it. Scar feigned away, only to snatch Neil's hand in mid swing between jaws oozing thick drool. The impact broke something in the hand.

Neil drew and stuck a second blade in Scar's nose. The bite laxed and he tore the hand free.

Scar backed off while frantically pawing at the blade to remove it. How many sharp things does the two legs have?!

Seeing his chance, Neil tackled the beast and held him in a headlock. Snapping at Neil's arms and face, Scar snarled and wrestled to escape with all his bestial might. Neil held and squeezed with all his. He twisted with his body left to right, but Scar's neck was too flexible to break. Neil wrapped his legs around Scar's hind legs then pulled. The neck creaked and bled sap that stuck to his skin. He pulled harder; suddenly, with a low growl, Scar's head snapped clean off.

Momentarily awestruck by the deed, Neil paused to reconcile his headless foe. It was indeed dead. Victory!

Standing triumphant, Neil held up Scar's head and roared to the uncaring wilds with the full power of his lungs.

The echo died, and the forest resumed around him. Neil considered the head of his enemy as a trophy. On second thought, it was honestly an unnecessary weight. The victor tossed it beside the corpse and checked on Artemis. She still lied out cold, but unharmed. Neil carried her over his shoulder, then found the spear, and the rest of his scattered gear. While strapping on the backpack, a strange noise interrupted his victory high.

Slowly looking to the headless corpse of Scar, he watched in abject terror as the head rolled over leaves, rocks, and moss to meet the sap leaking neck, twist itself into place with a wooden crunch, and the eyes slowly glow back to life. It was like something out of a horror novel, or a really bad nightmare.

Timberwolves can regenerate! Are they immortal? Every fiber of Neil's mortal coil screamed run. He held Artemis tight and bolted as Scar reanimated.

The adrenaline kept the worst of the injuries numbed while he ran like a man on fire. Behind, a howl in the distance pushed him harder to gain speed. Dodging branches, logs, and scaling the incline sent his pounding heart into his throat. Neil found the brook again and immersed in it to wash the scent off himself.

Taking cover under a small overhang of roots on the hillside, holding Artemis close, Neil held the other hand over his mouth to mute his labored breathing. It was like that part in Lord of the Rings with the hobbits hiding from a Nazgul under a dirt nook. Neil hoped Scar too would fail to find him.

Disturbed leaves and breaking twigs announced rapid paw steps just yards away. Scar sniffed around, looked every direction, then growled and barked bitterly into the wilds. Minutes of dead silence later, Scar swatted at the leaves on the ground, then howled in anger, obviously cursing for loosing the human. Scar left in a tantrum and faded into the misty umbral forest.

Neil breathed after what felt like forever, before cursing under his breath. He made a promise to himself to never be the pray again. That was before knowing immortals stalked the forest. No. He gazed at his sap stained palm, then clinched it to a fist and gritted his teeth. Not immortal. Nothing that bleeds is immortal. He scowled at the dirty shaking fist. "Damn it. I'm just not strong enough yet."

Neil limped the long path home, his mind swarming with plans on getting stronger and stratagems for the next fight. Scar still lurked out there. Neil couldn't be caught unawares again.

He arrived, a little worse for wear. At least now his food stores would hold until next week. If only humans could eat nothing but fish and remain healthy.

Artemis whimpered in his arms. He watched her eyes come to slits before exploding open. She hopped from Neil's grasp then landed with a puff of dead leaves, growling defensively with an arched back. Her sharp eyes and ears scanned for Scar.

"He's gone, girl." Lightheaded, Neil slowly sat on the log by the fire then fed it wood. "But, not lost." His eyes trailed the treeline. Scar was exactly where he wanted to be. Neil wrote on a note pad to build a perimeter wall, A.S.A.P.

The danger was gone. The scent of metal caught her nose and Artemis looked to Neil. Ears pinned back anxiously, she put a little worried paw on his injured arm, torn shirt exposed chewed pink bark that oozed a red sap. This hurt and worried Artemis. If only she were big enough to lick it better. She hated Scar. There can be no forgiveness for this.

"Don't worry. I'll fix it." Neil tied a dressing of old sage's beard to the wound tightly and staunched the blood. There was no threat of infection, since there is a humorous irony to fighting a timberwolf: if it doesn't kill you, the wounds sustained in the fight won't. They heal too quickly.

Neil ran a hand through his hair, and gasped at the sudden horrendous pain in his chewed hand. The middle bone of the pinky finger was broken in half and bent unnaturally to the side. The urge to vomit struck violently, as throbbing waves of pain beat him like a drunken biker. Neil gulped apprehensively. Biting on a rag, he set the finger back in place with a sickening snap.

There are no words to express that kind of pain. With the worst over, Neil made a primitive finger splint and tied the pinky to his ring finger. Fortunately, the bone didn't break the skin; yet, he read somewhere that if bone marrow enters the blood stream it could cause a fever. Hopefully, a finger doesn't count.

He stared at the half disabled hand and wiggled its three functional fingers. It hurt. Hard work just got harder, and he didn't have time to heal for a month. Having half a hand could spell doom in half that time. He looked to Artemis still sitting beside him, her features remained distraught for him. Neil reassuringly pet her head while wondering if timberwolf saliva could also mend bones faster. Neil had a clever idea.

Clicking his tongue, he knew it would heal fine should the procedure fail; Neil sliced the top skin of the pinky just above the break with an agate knife, then smeared Artemis' drool on it. Theoretically, everything should heal much faster. He redressed it with gauze and popsicle sticks from the medical kit.

The survivor's face stung and he wiped away red sweat. Three fresh cuts ran over his right cheek and forehead, a gift from Scar's claw. He dressed those cuts with a poultice made of oregano and symbiont saliva, then immersed himself in work.

Time was the last thing Neil wasted, but nothing. All goals were given a rationed period of time per day: working on the bow, building the hut, making more tools, etc. Nothing could take too long, or the essentials like firewood, food, or maintenance go neglected when nightfall comes. Neglect kills.

After gathering wood for the fire, Neil sat to finish shaping his bow stock with a flint blade. After smoothing and apprising it to satisfaction, he moved on to baking the hut's clay and slate floor with a large bonfire. It took nearly all day, but the firing worked. The final product was a mix of clay fired whitish red and charred slate. Neil stomped a foot down. It felt solid as stone and its aesthetics were pleasing. It would last, wet or dry. Perfect.

Darkness fell. Under the warmth of the deer skins, a knife in hand, and Artemis snuggled close, Neil slept with one eye half open to peer under the viewing gap in the lean-to's hide divider. It hovered high enough from the ground to see the paws of whatever ventured into his domain. This world taught him to sleep cautiously.

Out there, somewhere, Scar stalked in the dark, like a demon thirsting for the soul of its mark. But, Neil knew of something larger, something far, far worse haunting the endless green, the Manticore. He saw neither hide nor hair of it since last week. Not even thirteen days since being trapped here and he already made two great enemies, still, things were moving along.

Fortunately, this night went calmly, but dreamlessly.

Week Two: the Zebra

At dawn, a noise disturbed Neil's sleep. His eyes snapped open and his hand gently held Artemis' muzzle closed to muffle her growls. Seeing under the divider, he watched massive paws of soiled gray fur trounce his forest home. A petrifying grumble reverberated in Neil's ears and echoed in his bones. The manticore was paying him a visit, the horror of the forest, a curse of scars and patches, the first intruder of Neil's domain.

An appropriate name for this nightmare on legs came to Neil's mind, Patches, for the beast's identity clearly lied in his disfigurements and how he got them.

Neil held his breath and hid deeper under the soft skins of the moss bed, hoping they would mask his scent.

Patches sniffed the air, sharpened his blade-like paws on the baked hut floor, devoured some fish in the brook, then turned to leave in the direction of Lake Terpsichore. Something gave him pause. Soulless eyes wide as melons gazed to the Southern side of the clearing. A scaly chicken emerged from behind one of the great trees with eyes glowing red. The chicken then levitated; but to Neil's amazement, the fowl actually had the body of a large snake for a tail!

The mutant's aggression towards Patches was short lived. One devastating swipe of his paw severed the chicken's head, sending it flying into the West brush twenty meters away. Nonchalantly, Patches resumed his travels to the lake.

Neil shivered with Artemis under the covers for a while. When the coast was clear, he left the lean-to, found the head, then investigated the alien corpse. It was another symbiont, a compound beast of both fowl and reptile. The creature didn't reanimate like Scar. Interesting, Neil thought, Why would timberwolves regenerate but not this symbiont?

Artemis smelled the creature. Is it dead? She struck it with a paw. Yep. It's dead.

Something bothered Neil. He felt like this alien was familiar. It took a moment to recall why. Shaking his head, Neil gestured to it. "It's a cockatrice. Of course it is." It didn't surprise him, with all the shit he's seen. You know you live in some fuck when mythology becomes your bestiary.

Moving on, Neil carefully closed the symbiont's eyes shut. Legends say the cockatrice can kill you with one look. If the decapitated head still retained its powers like medusa's head did for Perseus, then Neil must be cautious. He needed to test it. Looking to the brook, he wondered if fish would be affected. Why not?

He took a trout from the trap, opened the cockatrice's eyes, and had them stare at the fish. Nothing happened. Some part of Neil felt relief, another part disappointment. How cool would've it been to have a weapon like medusa's head? Oh well. Neil gathered some feathers from the head, then tossed it into the brook.

After breakfast, and processing the cockatrice's parts, he found the beast's skin very strong and the scales nigh impervious to cutting and stabbing. It meant two things: one, this stuff is like chainmail had a baby with leather. This will make great light armor, belts, bags, what have you. Two, Patches can cut through this natural chainmail like butter. Yikes.

There was only enough here to make gauntlets, maybe a quiver.

Neil tested his broken pinky, and smiled after bending it without pain. The bone mended overnight. Timberwolf saliva could heal any injury like Kryptonian stem cells.

Neil thanked fortune for Artemis, then decided to make a pair of gauntlets.

Using a blend of deer hide and the cockatrice skin, Neil fashioned a pair of fine hand and forearm protection. The scales shimmered a beautiful iridescent green and blue in the rays cutting through the thick canopy above. They were primitive, but effective and comfortable.

Neil sat back on the log by the fire and thought for a spell. He inferred he had a naming dilemma to resolve: there were three different types of symbiont species he knew of so far. He needed to classify them, rather than call them all a symbiont without distinction.

He considered the cockatrice, then chose to name it, Symbius Calcatrix.

As for timberwolves, he dubbed them, Symbius Canis.

Patches and his ilk, assuming he wasn't the last of his kind, Neil named, Symbius Manticora.

He wasn't fluent in Latin, and could've made a mistake with the names, not that anyone would know. After recording this, he paused to question all this. What is the point of recording this anyway? I'm the only person who will ever appreciate it.

Think of it this way, he countered to himself, What else is there to do for fun?

"Good point." Neil stood from the log. Today's Monday, the start of the second week after Oath Day. It's all cardio day, that means exploration.

Before cardio, he worked on his latest invention, a water clock! There wasn't enough clear sky in camp for a sun dial, and his actual watch was smashed; this machine solved those issues, if it worked.

He drew up the plans for it two days ago. Since he had a ton of black bamboo nearby, there was more than enough piping to manipulate water to do things. The plan was to make a conic water reservoir out of clay, then hoisting it up with rope. A small hole and lots of pine sap could seal around a bamboo straw that will release a certain amount of water every second.

The water from the basin will collect in a pot attached to a machine. When enough water drops in this pot, it will empty back into a reservoir. The motion will activate a system of ropes and pulleys to rotate a numbered clay disk. A stick hovering above the disk will indicate what hour it is. This clock should keep reasonable time even in the dark, if properly calibrated.

The drawback was Neil needed to refill the water basins each day; and, building it required a precision that seemed fanciful with stone age technology. That wasn't going to stop him though. All the complex parts, like the pulleys, were going to be fired clay. The rest was wood, lashings, and sap glue.

Neil gathered the supplies and labored with them until this project's portion of time was spent.

He worked on the bow by helping it dry in his kiln. He carefully placed hot stones inside and around it before sealing it with the lid. The bow stave was from fallen timber that felt dry; still, he had to be certain it was. It should be ready soon. Patience.

Neil reassured himself he still had the atlatl. He took the weapon and from fifteen yards away drove a dart in the bulls eye of the woven thatch target he set up last week. Ten points.

Now he could exercise by investigating more of the forest.

He geared up and strode down a familiar road to the South, the one where he first met Scar. The canopy was thinner here, like the trees overtook this path many years ago. Maybe this was an actual road system once upon a time? He wondered where the path ended.

Artemis lead the way, vigilantly sniffing and watching. Nothing's getting to Neil this time, she swore to herself.

Only two things worried Neil: Scar, and Patches. Patches was easy enough to detect, as massive and loud as he is. A creature that is murder incarnate has no need for stealth. Scar, on the other hand, liked to ambush. He could be watching Neil right now, hidden in the living darkness. How can something with glowing eyes hide in the dark?

Neil theorized that Timberwolves can dim their eyes when they want to hide. He'll have to wait and see if that is true.

The old road wound in the forest like a coiling serpent, some coils moved around a tree or two. The path even went through a huge lichen covered tree with a natural tunnel in it. That tree must be thousands of years old. Abruptly, the path was split in half by a river, a rather large river. It was, perhaps, twenty yards across.

Artemis hopped onto Neil's shoulders and held on as they forded the river. It came up to his neck halfway to the other side, and he had to hold Artemis higher. He'd have to teach her how to swim later. Neil noticed some purple boulders jutting from the running water. They were iridescent oddly enough. He didn't like them. There was something about those rocks that made him nervous.

Neil emerged from the river on the other side and moved on. Moving aside some vines with his spear to expose the path again, Neil saw a patch of blue glowing flowers in his way. He approached them, and Artemis leaned in to sniff the flowers, but he stopped her by setting the spear in her way. She sat down and looked up to him. Neil didn't like the look of that plant.

Neil leaned down to get a closer look and poked one of the plants with an atlatl dart. Was the plant carnivorous, poison? It didn't react like a Venus fly trap to the dart. Interesting. They were very beautiful.

He heard an animal squeal in the distance. It sounded like, of all things, a zebra?

He moved fast to investigate and pushed through the dark thickets to spy a zebra wearing what looked like saddlebags over its back. It was running away from something, something big. Oh no.

Patches rushed after the zebra, snapping small trees and steamrolling anything small enough to flatten.

He's going to catch the zebra. Some part of Neil wanted to walk away. It would be easy. In fact, this animal might have saved Neil from meeting Patches instead. This was the way of the wild, survival of the fittest. If the zebra wasn't fast enough to escape, it gets eaten, and Neil moves on undetected to hunt another day. Period.

....

Fuck that.

Patches was within range. Neil took the dart in his hand, set it on the atlatl, aimed, then let fly. The missile flew as Patches ran into its path. The dart barely stuck on the side of the manticore's eye! Ten points.

He stopped then swatted the projectile off like it was a fly.

Neil's blood went cold. That dart was obsidian tipped. Jesus, what is he made of?

Patches sniffed the shattered dart, then gazed at the thickets to see where this sharp stick came from.

Patches is trying to establish causality, Neil realized. The creatures on this planet are way too smart for his own good. He just watched on with Artemis quietly at his side in the tall brush.

Patches then glared at the zebra further down the forest.

Wait, what? The zebra's just standing there? Why?

Run, for Christ's sake! Neil urged mentally.

The zebra just stood there, unafraid. Is it suicidal now?

Patches resumed its chase to eat the zebra.

Neil burst from the bushes and yelled, "Hey ugly!"

Patches' cold eyes locked onto him immediately, just before it crashed head first into a tree. The manticore shook its dazed head, then ran backwards into another tree, then sideways into a boulder.

Neil watched the killing machine act out like Jerry Lewis. It's like all its motor functions were reversed. Why?

The zebra stared wide eyed at the distant strange creature wearing animal skins like a cloak. She's never seen anything like it.

Neil glanced the zebra's way. He could've sworn it nodded to him. He watched it back away from the howling bumbling beast and melt into the forest. Good. Mission successful.

"Let's go, girl." Neil said to Artemis. Patches was too messed up to follow them. What caused that back there? It couldn't have been the dart, could it? Maybe he hit something more vital than he realized.

He's burned enough daylight. It's time to go back.

The hunter and his wolf found themselves before the patch of glowing flowers again, but on the opposite side. He didn't feel like going around, so Neil just walked through them. Thinking maybe they were just flowers after all and he was cautious over nothing this time.

He made it through the patch, and felt fine. Then, the world began to grow a little, and his hands and body were getting bigger. What the fuck?

He felt his head, and it was smaller. His head was actually shrinking! "Waaaaaaaaaah!" Neil screamed, and his voice shrank with his head until he sounded like Alvin the chipmunk.

Artemis saw his distress and was about to cross the flower patch after him.

"No!" Neil shrieked in his chipmunk voice while holding his hands out to her, "Stay girl! Don't touch the flowers! Go around!"

The wolf froze before going through, then went around safely.

Neil sighed in relief. Thank god the creatures are smart on this planet.

Artemis saw Neil up close and couldn't believe her eyes. Neil's head shrunk! She stepped farther away from the flowers. Neil was right in stopping her earlier. Those plants are dangerous. He saved her again!

"This is fucked." Neil held his big hands out. Well, they weren't bigger; everything just seemed so with his peanut sized head. This is so surreal. Was he high? Did those flowers secrete a substance like L.S.D.?

Artemis smelled that monster from before and turned on a dime to the shadowed treeline and growled. It's coming!

"What is it?" Neil spun, and held his huge spear out, then wished he didn't have the depth perception of a fruit fly.

Suddenly, Patches approached bumbling through the forest toward them, grunting and snarling savagely. He managed to get the hang of his screwed up motor skills that fast!?

"Run!" Neil can't fight like this. He had to retreat with Artemis back to the river.

The run was difficult and he almost hit a tree branch, but tripped instead on a root. Neil scrambled to get up, then felt something woosh over his tiny head.

Patches' paw missed by inches and sliced a tree open instead. Yikes. The beast tripped on itself and fought to regain its footing.

Neil was grateful for his small head. He drove his spear into the thing's soft nose, then ran with Artemis like they were scared rabbits.

Patches roared, enraged that the puny thing hurt him again with a pointy stick! If only his legs worked right, he'd squash it like a bug.

Artemis thought Scar was a monster, but that thing back there is the stuff of nightmares. It could eat her and Neil in one mouthful! Hopefully it couldn't swim in the deep river.

They arrived at the shoreline and Neil realized a terrible problem. The water is too deep in his current state. He'd drown with his small head if he forded it like before. Artemis is too small to swim in the river's current, even if she knew how to.

Patches was getting closer.

Oh god. What now? He looked around the shore for a fallen tree to cross with. Maybe he can use a log like a float and swim across? Then, his tiny eyes spotted the Zebra as it emerged from behind a tree. It followed him.

Artemis growled and stood between it and Neil.

The zebra trotted closer, reached into its bag with its muzzle, and took out a pouch of something. It sprinkled some red dust onto its forehoof then blew it in Neil's face.

He coughed. The dust smelled like ceder and mushrooms. Miraculously, his head popped back to its normal size. Just in time too, as Patches had closed the distance.

Neil snatched Artemis and ran into the river. The zebra followed.

The Manticore howled, took a log with its mouth, and hurled it at them.

The log flew too high and struck one of the purple boulders with an oddly fleshy thud.

Neil's stomach fell into his groin when a massive purple water dragon emerged from the river, grinning a toothy grin, a golden mustache flowing in a nonexistent breeze from its snout.

"Mother of god." Neil swore as he wadded through the water even faster.

Patches ignored the dragon. He raced to the water's edge and leaped at the three annoying snacks trying to escape. There is no escape.

The dragon snatched Patches out of the air and began smacking him with both sides of the other claw. The fight, however, wasn't so easily won.

On the other side of the river, Neil turned to watch Patches fight the water dragon. The manticore bit the dragon's claw and hung on. The serpent roared and swung the beast down, smashing it on the river floor repeatedly until it let go.

Patches eventually did, but damn if that stopped the monster. He stood and continued to fight the dragon, and actually held his own.

Neil made good on his escape while the two titans duked it out.

Now a safe distance away, Neil turned to consider the zebra still following him. Its mane was styled into a mohawk, and wore a tribal style of jewelry: a pair of gold ear rings, and more gold rings around its neck and front left leg. It was also smaller than he expected, standing to about chest height. It stared back with the same look of sentience that Luna had in his dream. Could it be true, is this really a native of this world, a self aware horse?

It spoke to him, or tried to with its zebra noises.

"I don't speak zebra." Neil shook his head. "I can't believe I'm talking to an animal." He stared down to Artemis. She tilted her head at him. "You don't count."

The zebra looked confused. She couldn't understand his strange language.

"Thanks for the help. We're even now." Neil left the zebra standing there. It made no attempt to stop him.

Neil felt naked without his spear. But, the return trip home was uneventful, thankfully. He sat by the fireplace and fed it. This really was a cardio day. He ran his hands over his scarred face. Jesus Christ.

Those flowers though, what the hell did they do to him? They must have some poison that causes debilitating hallucinations. Then, he found a connection. He poked one of those flowers with the dart he shot Patches with! Then, he started to flop and stumble around. It messed up that monster like it messed him up.

Flowers containing a powerful hallucinogen could be an equally powerful weapon. Neil wondered: could he build a tolerance to it?

What would he call the plants? Well, the substance they secrete mess with your sense of reality, like it's playing a joke on you. A trickster, huh? A name came to him: Loki Flower, named after the Norse god of mischief and dark deeds. It's perfect.

Neil made a mental note to experiment with the Loki flowers later after Patches had moved on. Actually, Neil hoped that dragon took care of him. It would be one less headache to deal with.

Neil built the wall and roof framing for the hut while Artemis took a long drink in the shallows of the brook's pool. An idea crossed his mind while lashing the last poles together for the wall frame. The still pool at its deepest came to Neil's hips. This is a good time to teach Artemis how to swim.

Neil approached her and placed his hands on his sides. She stood there, eyes closed, relaxing into the moment. He left her to drink a while longer and gathered firewood. After, he took his shirt off and walked into the water to her and she looked up at him.

Artemis closed her eyes slowly, then reopened them.

Huh, was that some kind of greeting? Neil did the same, closing and slowly opening his eyes.

Artemis smiled and wagged her tail under the water.

She's getting better at smiling. Neil scratched her head and picked her up. The roots on her paws retracted and she hugged him closer when he walked out to the deep end. She started panting and her claws gripped his skin. "It's alright. I've got you."

He slowly dipped her into the water and she tensed up. Neil held the young wolf waist deep in the smooth current. She looked around then eased seeing that she wasn't sinking. "Okay, girl. It's time you learned how to swim."

What does swim mean? She wondered why Neil held her over the deep end. His grip laxed and she panicked a little. She's going to sink; the water will swallow her up!

Neil let go, and Artemis sank under the water. He stayed close and counted to ten.

Artemis furiously kicked and clawed under the water, trying her hardest to get to shore. However, nothing bad was happening to her. She calmed down and looked around. Her fears faded away. It was like another world down here. She saw the fish and other creatures strange to her moving around, and wished she could move like that. Maybe that's what swim means? Does Neil want her to move in the water like a fish? That sounded fun. She tried to imitate the trout swimming around and soon her head rose above the water's surface.

Neil gawked at Artemis struggling to swim around him in circles. Holy cow! She learned that in less than ten seconds!

She's doing it! She's moving like a fish. Water is the best thing ever! She dived and tried to chase a trout. It was too fast for her. Maybe one day she could catch one for Neil. Fish make him happy.

It seemed to Neil he was no longer needed here. Watching Artemis submerge herself for minutes on end had Neil wonder if timberwolves have a respiratory system similar to a plant and do not suffocate like mammals. Maybe she absorbs carbon dioxide as well? Does she also need photo synthesis to complete the process?

Some areas of the forest live in perpetual nighttime under its thick canopies. Overall, ground level is starved of significant sunlight; yet, Plants seem to flourish here anyway. Interesting. Perhaps the fauna evolved to thrive on what little there is.

Neil inspected the bow staff in the warm kiln while Artemis played in the pool. That stave was fully shaped and would be dry by next week. He could hardly wait.

The boy finished his chores for the day and ate some polymelons by the brook. He'd spit seeds at a few rocks jutting from the surface to see if he could hit them. The farthest stone proved a challenge. After a few failed tries, Neil spat the last seed and it looked like this would hit!

Artemis burst from under the water and swatted the seed before it struck the target. She climbed onto the rock, and sported a rather smug aura.

"I'll be damned." Neil just blinked, then laughed. "You rascal!"

The water logged wolf swam to shore and laid by the campfire to dry off and rest.

Neil made a fresh pair of obsidian spears and flint arrows. Then, it occurred to him he ran out of feathers for fletching with the last batch of atlatl darts. He looked up after a crow cawed from above.

The hunter spied the dark bird sitting on a branch, eating something it caught. Neil drew a blunt dart and took aim with the atlatl. This will be tricky. He waited until the shot felt right. He let it fly and it struck the bird, knocking it dead off the branch, ten points worth of feathers, and dinner.

Neil made roasted crow with a huckleberry reduction. It was pretty good. Neil finished his meal, and imagined a fresh pot of coffee on the fire. Aahhh, man. He could really use some right now.

A tinge of melancholy settled and he watched the firelight dance on Artemis as she rested by it. All the chores were finished, leaving a quarter of the day to burn. What would he do with the remaining hours?

Save for the sounds of nature, this is what peacefulness will be like for the rest of his life, an otherwise sterile silence? It reminded him like a nagging demon how essentially futile life here is for him. Neil felt his spirit sinking in his seat. He has to find something to do and stay busy; he'll drive himself crazy if he doesn't. He took a breath. Remember your oath.

Just then, Artemis stirred from her nap. Her eyes settled on something behind Neil.

He felt gentle pats of breath on his neck. Neil neglected to remain alert, trading it for melancholy.

Neglect kills.

Neil drew his knife and jumped to his feet while spinning around, holding the flint blade out to whatever it was.

The hunter beheld the zebra, and relaxed. It found his camp? He wasn't sure if he could trust it and held his ground, legs poised to react on command.

Artemis took to Neil's side and readied herself. It was the creature Neil helped. Why is she invading their territory?

The zebra reached into one of the saddlebag pouches. It withdrew and held a glass bottle in her teeth; an iridescent vapor swirled inside.

Curiosity turned to panic when Neil watched her fling the bottle up and it fell at his feet and shattered.

Artemis barked and growled. She threw something at Neil!

Gas attack?! The vapor smelled of herbs and something else he couldn't name. Neil backed away, coughing and waving off the gas, still pointing the knife with the other hand.

That does it. Artemis sprang into action and chased the zebra, intent on running her down.

The short zebra brayed and ran away from the much smaller wolf. To Neil's shock, the whinnies became more... coherent with every second. If he didn't know any better, he was starting to make out words from the galloping beast. Then, like his ears were unplugged, he heard it speak English.

"There is no cause for alarm! Calm your Timberwolf! I mean neither of you harm!"

Neil's breathing elevated and his palms started to sweat. Did it just speak?

The feminine zebra jumped onto a low lying branch and held on.

Artemis jumped up and snapped at the invader, but she was too high up. Come back down here and fight! Artemis decided to scale the tree after the coward.

The Zebra laughed. "Something so small, to have the determination of a wildebeest, to be bitten by it I do not wish in the least!" From her distant perch, she stared into Neil's unblinking eyes. "Will you, savior of mine, only now stand by and watch me die?"

The wolf stepped on the branch then heard Neil whistle. She froze.

"Come here, girl."

But, the intruder-

"Artemis, here, now!"

She sighed and obeyed, while frowning darkly at the zebra. Anymore funny business will be your last, stripy thing.

The Zebra descended the tree and approached, smiling warmly. "Thank you, great creature. I cannot lie, before I thought that manticore would catch me and I would die. But, you came by, and I saw you shoot its foul eye!"

"You're welcome." Neil breathed. Was the vapor filled with a psychedelic like the Loki flowers secrete? Or, was something else to blame for the reason why he can suddenly speak zebra?

"I can never repay you for saving my life; I can offer you something at least, but know it is not merely a knife!" She presented it from her saddle bag.

It was ornate and curved a lot like a Persian knife. He took the weapon and the first thing that really caught his attention was its impressive heft.

The zebra pointed at it. "This was in my family for generations; now, you can pass it down your generations." She giggled. "Besides, I've used it to mince herbs since I was a child. If my ancestors knew, I would be reviled."

An heirloom knife? Neil unsheathed the blade and his heart skipped when it gleamed. It's steel! It was so wonderful to see steel again. "I can't tell you how valuable this gift is."

"Indeed; it is truly a work of art. I hope it shows my gratitude, at least in part."

"You have succeeded." He held his hand out. "I am Neil."

The Zebra recognized the gesture, just like Luna did. She shook his hand with a fore hoof. "I am Zecora."

Zecora rhymes like a Leprechaun. How strange is that? At least she doesn't speak in riddles. "Just so you know, you also saved me from the same beast after I was poisoned by the Loki flower. Thus, I figure we are even."

"Loki flower?" Zecora tilted her head. "You mean the poison joke? Yes, beware the flowers with leaves of blue, they are really not a joke!"

"I named them Loki flowers, after a dark mischievous god from my planet."

"Then, we both have proper names for a plant that plays sinister games." She held a hoof to herself. "And, I do not keep score. To help you was simply called for."

Neil considered the knife once more, then asked, "Then, is this the only reason you followed me?"

"No. I also came out of curiosity, not just to reward your generosity."

Neil motioned to the campfire. "There's a spot for you by the fire."

"Taking it would be my honor and desire."

The hunter sat across from the rhyming zebra. Flickering light from the lapping flames illuminated her sharp features and reflected off the rows of gold rings stacked up her neck. There was an alien yet oddly nostalgic beauty to this creature, Neil felt.

Zecora's teal eyes took in the tall being's striking and foreign appearance. The fire in his aura betrayed this being as masculine. The tinge of the wild behind his eyes suggested the forest got to him more than once and his mettle was adapting to suit. The scars streaking his face and what appeared liken to fleshy griffin talons told her this was the case. His ability to tame the untameable timberwolf proved this creature was truly formidable. "What manner of being are you?"

"Human." Neil took a log off the nearby pile and added it to the fire. She doesn't rhyme with every sentence. Perhaps, she only rhymes when the idea needs two clauses? "What are you?"

"I am a pony."

The hairs on Neil's neck rose. That word, Luna also called herself a pony. So, that's it then. She was real; and, this is another example of sapience here. He stayed silent and observed his alien guest.

Zecora looked around. This place was the human's home. It smelled of cooked flesh, and the animal hides drying on racks and comprising his garments told her he was a predator. But, the rectangular pot filled with reduced berries, the stores of grain, roots, and melons said there was more to the tale. An omnivore, perhaps, like a Minotaur? He certainly stands upright like one. Still, she asked, "I smell this place is stained by deeds both frightening and gory; do I need to worry?"

Neil locked eyes with her. "No. I hunt because I must. I never had a taste for hunting or the hunter's trade."

"Ah, forced to compete against those who are the fittest? You are a survivalist."

He nodded. "You could say that."

"I understand. Changing to survive is a daunting task life at times must demand."

Someone that's lived here for years would know. "Do you live in this forest, Zecora?"

"Yes. In my youth, my travels took me from far to near and finally to where I made my home here."

Neil felt like Zecora didn't just speak in rhymes, but in poetic prose. It was like if he met the animalistic manifestation of Goethe. Talking with her proved soothing and he felt the madness encroaching before slipping away. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you visited again, since we're neighbors."

She smiled and jumped to her hooves. "Yes! I never had a neighbor before. A celebration is called for!" She turned to leave. "I shall return to my hut; there is much I must prepare and many herbs to cut. Visit me in a weeks time, then I should have steeped all the herb wine!"

Wine? Best. Neighbor. Ever. "Oh? Alright. I'll find you."

"Seek me where I was nearly slain; there the path to my home lies obvious and plain."

"See you in a week." Neil waved her bye.

She waved back and left with a bounce in her trot.

What is sanity anymore? Neil laughed and scratched Artemis behind the ear. She curled up into his lap and purred. Once the sun set, they went to sleep in the lean-to.

Author's Note:

My early Christmas gift to you: two fresh chapters at once. Neil is beginning his adventure, and is adjusting to this new life. He also made a new friend.

This particular chapter covers a lot of ground in a short time, and will be the pacing theme for the next three chapters of this seven week saga. This part only covers two weeks. I chose to build these this way to avoid posting seven parts for each week. I will build them all into four installments for efficiency.

If this plan seems confusing, just be patient. It will all make sense in the end.

The snow ball is growing and picking up speed. Where will it end up, I wonder?

Also, I noticed how Artemis called Scar a she, and Neil a he. Which is it? You'll find out soon.