***
-Crackle!-
"—hail, I know you can make it,"
"Don't distur—"
-Crackle!-
"—not waking up!"
"—be fine,"
-Shuffle-
"What do you mean he'll be fine—"
"...M-mn,"
"Shush, did you hear that?"
"What? You're ignoring me now?"
"No! Look, your boy's still alive and kicking,"
"!!!"
"Don't, let him rest– that gorgod did him hard,"
"...Fine,"
"You rest too, your temperature's getting higher by the hour,"
***
-Shuffle-
"U-Uhh,"
-Crackle!-
Mikhail woke with a start, his eyes wide open and his back drenched in cold sweat. But when he tried to sit up, Mikhail was blindsided by the aching discomfort in his legs and thighs midway, and had to lay back down.
-Groan!-
Having to bear the pain in full force, Mikhail could only wince, fearful that screaming would attract unwanted attention. Nevertheless, his body was merciless, torturing him with more of the same slow-acting agony in his chest when he had to forcefully endure the strike of the gorgod.
Finally, after a few minutes of this, he had gotten used to it enough to allow for slow, more careful movements...
"Ngh!!" Suddenly, Mikhail was assaulted by a splitting headache, and that's when he remembered.
"W-Wait! The gorgod, mom! Ana—"
"Your mother's fine,"
Mikhail was shocked by the abrupt voice, and ignoring the sharp pain, he quickly did a once-over of his surroundings in search of the voice. He didn't have to look for long as the culprit was just sitting silently by the campfire, which was in front of Mikhail.
It was a man; an old man, likely in his 50s. And although he was old, Mikhail could never tell if it weren't for his grey hair. After all, the man sitting in front of him was even taller than the gorgod. And if it weren't for the thick leather coat on his person, Mikhail was sure he would lose all confidence in his total muscle mass.
"..."
"..."
Mikhail was quite certain the man knew his location had already been divulged, but whether he was too busy with whatever he had in his hands, or for some other reason, the man continued to ignore Mikhail.
-Cough!-
Eventually, the man did stop his movements to look up at Mikhail. His eyes were uninterested and slightly bored, much to Mikhail's chagrin.
"A-About what you said..."
"Your mother's fine, she's just resting in my house," The old man gestured at the log cabin behind Mikhail.
"Our village..."
"..." The old man was silent, indirectly telling him what happened.
"The guards, Mrs Lorain, everyone... No..."
"...Apart from a few lucky survivors, most were killed,"
Hearing the old man's confirmation; Mikhail broke down in tears. But after crying for a few minutes, he asked another question.
"...A-And Ana?"
"...The little lass was taken by the gorgod," Mikhail was crestfallen when he heard what the old man had to say. But more than that, he was angry; angry at himself for failing to protect her and allowing her to be captured by those monsters.
"Is that all you want to know?"
Mikhail was suddenly interrupted from his thoughts by the old man. His gruff voice gave off a hostile tone, slightly intimidating Mikhail. But after a few moments of thought, he was no longer hesitant when he asked his next set of questions.
"Where are we?"
"The medley forest, ten cedars from the village," He answered
"Where did they take her?" Mikhail asked, his voice was shaky; as if pleading she would be fine.
"...No," But the old man didn't even think before shaking his head.
"Where did they take her," Mikhail repeated, this time, his voice was laced with anger.
-Sigh-
The old man looked at Mikhail, and after some thinking, simply asked him:
"Supposing I do tell you their location, what will you do?"
"What?" Mikhail was flabbergasted at his question, but before he could respond, the old man continued before he could comprehend the first question.
"Will you go there to simply be killed by the gorgod? Hm?"
"U-uh I-I,"
"And on the assumption that it was killed on the way to their lair, what would you do when you got there, hm? Since you have no food, no weapons and not even a clue as to what lay beyond their entrance,"
"I-I'll get a horse, a map and a sword" Mikhail stubbornly shouted.
"Sure, get a horse, and die trying to ride it. It's kick is stronger than that punch the gorgod landed on you. Get a map, but without a compass, you'll be lost even with one made by the god of navigation. Shall I continue with the sword?" The old man countered, his words like knives stabbing into Mikhail's ego.
"T-Then what do I do?! I need to save her! Please..." Mikhail begged, his voice was cracked and in between silent sobs while kneeling in front of the old man's feet.
"..." The old man looked at Mikhail in silence, and after a few minutes of thought, he let out a sigh before saying.
"...Fine, come with me,"
"Yes! Thank you very much for your help Mr... ?"
"Zhivotnoye,"
"Mr. Zhivotnoye," Mikhail repeated, searing the name into his memory.
"Just call me Zhiv," He said, before walking out of the forest, with Mikhail hurrying behind.
***
When they reached their destination, Mikhail was stupefied with the absolutely enormous amount of space right in front of him...
"This place is called the Allegro plains, About 10000 cedars in width and length, And somewhere in this big expanse of emptiness is the one cave out of hundreds that leads to their lair, where their queen stays," Zhiv spoke. He then looked back at Mikhail and continued:
"Now, do you think you can arrive there on foot? do you think you have the time to search around one hundred caves to look for her?"
Mikhail slowly shook his head at his questions, but couldn't help but ask in a dejected tone:
"So what do we do?"
"Well, this is where our disadvantage can be to benefit you," Zhiv smiled, and out of the blue picked Mikhail up.
"W-Waaaah!" Mikhail was shocked when he felt his center of gravity go out of proportions.
"Look at the plains, what do you see?" After allowing Mikhail to calm down, Zhiv asked him.
"...Grass, trees, and... One or two cave entrances,"
"Exactly, so for simple-minded morkodas, how long do you think it will take for them to reach their lair assuming they have a general sense of where it is?"
"A few days?" Mikhail spoke with uncertainty. Partly from his ignorance regarding the local geography, but also because he had no experience.
"To be specific: two days, but what if I gave you a map, compass and then taught you how to handle a horse; How long would it take you?"
"A few hours," This time though, Mikhail spoke with conviction. Completely sure of his own ability.
"Good! Then get ready, because in the next forty-eight; I will turn you into that little lady's hero!"
***