He slowly woke up. He groggily blinked his eyes. Then he cursed. Why? Why was this becoming his signature move? It's like all he ever does now is groggily wake up! When would he finally be able train!
Then he cursed again for an entirely different reason. He couldn't move! There were two reasons for this, one was that he had bled out so much he was too weak to stand up and another was the giant tree pinning him to the ground.
One of these things was a lot more annoying. It rhymes with Wee! or pee. Putting aside his newly discovered talent in poetry, he tried to find a way to get out of his predicament. He looked around for something he could use as a lever, but then he gave up the idea since he would need another person to help set it up.
Turns out that common sense was not his strong suit. He looked around for his weapons but he did not have many left. He had been recovering previously and he did not create any more after his fight with the diabolical pig. His axe was gone after he was KO'ed by the tree. It was because he had cut down so many trees, wasn't it? Karma is a bitch indeed.
As he was digging around for something that could help him, he grasped a wooden needle. He had created the needle to use as a makeshift ranged weapon till he could get his hands on a professionally made bow.
He wanted to master many weapons, and he had definitely not forgotten about ranged weapons. However, he did not think he could make a bow. He wasn't delusional. Was he a little insane? Maybe, but he was definitely not conceited. He knew he couldn't make a bow but he wanted to learn at least one ranged weapon for survival.
Then came the time to make a decision. It was either throwing knives, throwing needles or a blowdart. He immediately scratched blowdart off the list cause it would take a long time to reload and could only fire one dart at a time.
It's power wasn't bad but a dart would not be able to kill most animals unless it was poisoned and he had no poison. He would much rather have a distracting amount of needles bombarding his enemies so that he would have time to attack or escape depending on the situation than just one dart that would not do anything, and by the time he reloads he would already be dead. Plus, he didn't want to look like a caveman! That would be stupid.
Then he decided on needles since he felt that it would be much easier to make pointy needles than sharp objects out of wood. It would be easier, efficient and it would give a better result than knives. He could hold many of them in his hand at the same time, cause they were needles, and that was exactly what he wanted.
Who would have expected that those quick escape distraction needles would become his salvation when all his other weapons abandoned him? He took out two needles and held one in each hand, looked at the tree as if it was his arch enemy, then started scratching at the tree like some kind of deranged cat.
This would take some time, and as blood drained as he was, he would quickly exhaust himself as well. There was nothing to eat around him.....or was there? As soon as the idea popped in his head he could not sit still, he looked around, his eyes sparkling with hope, straining his neck and body, trying to catch sight of it but was left disappointed.
He didn't know whether he should be happy or sad that none of the frog guts had landed near him during the explosion. On one hand, the guts could give him energy that could save him time and that would allow him to get the tree of him quicker, which would in turn allow him to get back to training faster. On the other hand, the thought of eating frog guts made him puke. It was a very hard decision.
He thought about just cutting off the lower part of his body so he could be free, but he found the idea to be disagreeable. He would not be able to train for several days if he did not have legs, he would not be able to hunt for food or walk either, and just imagining the time it would take to cut his body in half with only needles made him shudder. Oh, also, he would die. He had forgotton about that point.
No matter what, he could not lose so many days that could be spent training! Determined to get the tree off him as soon as possible so that he could get back to training, he held a bunch of needles in each hand and used them as claws to scratch the tree. Now he had more claws.
Inspite of looking like a doofus, he was able to get the tree off him quicker, which in turn made the blocked blood flow like a dam had been let loose, which in turn made him weaker and weaker. It was a vicious.....line, cause it wasn't a cycle, the tree could only last so long under the barrage of workaholic's psychotic determination.
After finally scratching the tree out of existence (partially), he looked down at his lower pancake....lower body which had become really, really flat and wished he had the power to blow em up like ballons. He sadly did not have such an ability and could only wait.
He covered himself with the branches and leaves of the tree and then slowly dragged himself to lean against the tree, using the tree he had abused as a refuge from the many scary things in the forest. Exhibiting the grace and dignity that only a bully could exhibit. He did not care about the tree's feelings at all. Are we sure he's a good guy?
"Haaaaa...I really hope my legs heal quickly, I came here to train but it seems like I've not even started yet. I'm so low on the food chain that I'm barely able to stay in one piece."