Chereads / THROUGH STONE AND FIRE / Chapter 12 - Hunted Once More

Chapter 12 - Hunted Once More

Jordan stood in his boxers, his damp clothes hanging from a makeshift line near the campfire, swaying slightly in the breeze. He had scrubbed them as best as he could in the river, though their condition was far from ideal. Frayed seams and small tears hinted at their wear and tear, but they were still usable for now. His shoes told a similar story—weathered and cracking, barely holding together. One lacked a lace, sacrificed earlier to fashion a bow for starting his first fire.

He glanced at his drying clothes, silently willing the sun to do its job before his next venture for food. With his body's transformation, Jordan had noticed an undeniable shift in his appetite. Before, he could stretch a single rabbit across an entire day, eating a little here and there. Now, he polished off the entire animal in one sitting and still felt like he could eat more. His increased strength came with a hefty price—he needed more sustenance to maintain it.

"Maybe I need to hunt bigger prey," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. The idea made sense, but it came with its own set of problems. He frowned at the thought. "I don't have anywhere to store the extra meat, though. I don't want it to spoil again."

The memory of the rabbit he'd wasted earlier lingered, a painful reminder of the challenges of survival. He needed to find a solution. Drying or preserving the meat, building a proper storage area—he'd have to figure it out soon. For now, though, improvisation was all he had.

...

It was now a couple of hours from sunset, and the golden light filtered through the trees, casting long shadows across Jordan's camp. He checked his clothes, which were nearly dry but still slightly damp to the touch. Deciding he couldn't wait any longer, he slipped into them, the warmth of his body helping to finish the drying process.

The fabric clung to him uncomfortably at first, but he barely noticed. He was too busy planning his next move, mentally going over the remaining daylight and what he could accomplish before nightfall. His growing hunger gnawed at him again, reminding him that hunting or gathering food had to be his next priority. The familiar weight of his knife at his side gave him some comfort as he prepared to head back into the wilderness.

Jordan headed back out, his knife secured at his side and his pouch slung over his shoulder. This time, he had two clear goals: to find food and to venture much further than before. His growing hunger fueled his determination, but it wasn't just about eating anymore—it was about understanding the forest and what lay beyond his usual hunting grounds.

The air was cooler now as the sun began its descent, and the forest was alive with subtle noises: rustling leaves, distant chirps, and the occasional snap of a twig. Jordan moved cautiously, his sharpened senses attuned to every sound and movement. The further he went, the denser the forest became, and the unfamiliar terrain excited him just as much as it put him on edge.

He gripped his knife tightly, ready for anything. Today, he wasn't just surviving—he was exploring.

.....

Jason gripped the goblin by its throat, his fingers tightening as he ended its life with a grim determination. He let the lifeless body fall to the ground, joining the six others scattered around him. Blood soaked the forest floor, mingling with the remains of a recently defeated slime.

His chest heaved as he surveyed the aftermath. Seven goblins had ambushed him, springing from the shadows with crude weapons and guttural growls. It had been a relentless fight, but he came out on top. The nicks and scratches on his arms and legs stung, but they were minor. He was fine—better than he expected, considering the odds.

Jason wiped his face with the back of his hand, smearing dirt and blood across his cheek. "They're getting smarter," he muttered, crouching down to retrieve the cores from the fallen goblins. He noticed how coordinated their attack had been. This wasn't like the lone goblins or small groups he'd faced before.

As he pocketed the cores, his mind raced. Were the goblins working together naturally, or was something—or someone—organizing them? Whatever the case, it was a problem for later.

Jason's haul today was considerable, far exceeding yesterday's. Seven goblin cores now sat securely in his pouch, a hefty addition to his collection. Though he still didn't know their purpose, he considered them valuable practice for understanding whatever power his knife wielded.

On his way back to camp, he managed to hunt a fanged rabbit with ease, adding a much-needed meal to his inventory. The rabbit's capture reminded him of how much his skills and strength had improved, even in just a short time.

He decided against heading back out for the day. Between the intense ambush and his earlier exploration, his body needed rest, and his mind craved peace. "I'll clean up, then maybe soak in the river for a while," he muttered to himself as he trudged back to his camp.

The thought of the river's cool, calming waters brought him a small sense of relief. A few moments of quiet reflection wouldn't hurt, and besides, he needed to wash off the grime and blood from his skirmish. Rest and clarity would serve him well for tomorrow's challenges.

As Jason reached his camp, he wasted no time washing off the sweat, dirt, and dried blood in the cool, refreshing river. The water soothed his aching muscles, washing away not just grime but also the tension of the day's battles. Afterward, he returned to his camp, feeling cleaner and calmer, and settled down by the fire.

Laying back on the makeshift bedding he'd pieced together over time, he stared up at the patch of sky visible through the treetops. Thoughts of his old life crept into his mind. He couldn't deny that he missed some parts of it—the small comforts, the predictability, and the moments of peace he'd taken for granted.

But as he glanced at his knife, now sharper and more powerful than when he'd first found it, and thought of how far he'd come, a quiet resolve filled him. Maybe this life, as brutal and uncertain as it was, could be better. He had grown stronger, faster, and more resilient in ways he never thought possible. Each day was a challenge, but it was also a chance to survive, to adapt, and maybe even to thrive.

"Maybe this isn't so bad," he whispered to himself, the crackling of the fire his only response. As exhaustion pulled him toward sleep, he allowed himself a fleeting sense of hope for what the future might hold in this harsh but strangely rewarding new world. Is