Celm sat up with a groan, rubbing his eyes. His body felt heavy, drained of energy, and yet his stomach growled with a ferocity that made him wince. "Why can't I just sleep?" he muttered, leaning back against the rough bark of a nearby tree.
The purple moon hung high in the sky, casting a strange glow over the forest, bathing everything in its eerie light. The warmth from his campfire barely touched him in the cold night air. "I should be sleeping... but this hunger is pestering."
His thoughts shifted as his stomach growled louder, a deep, empty sound that rumbled through his body. The frustration began to mount. His mind wandered to his need for rest, but the gnawing hunger was more urgent. Celm sighed, staring at the dancing flames before him.
"Fine," he whispered to himself. "Food first. Sleep later."
With a resigned groan, Celm pushed himself to his feet, feeling the ache in his legs from the long hours of wandering. His thoughts were clouded with hunger and exhaustion, but he forced himself to focus.
His fingers brushed the hilt of the shard knife, which he had fashioned from jagged stone. A crude tool, but it would do. Celm had learned long ago that survival depended on improvisation.
He moved toward the edge of the clearing, where the trees gave way to a thicket of underbrush. The night was still, but the air was thick with the scent of damp earth and moss. The forest was alive, yet its quiet hum felt almost unnatural, like the silence of a predator waiting for its prey.
"I'll find something," Celm muttered, eyes scanning the foliage. His fingers twitched in anticipation. He needed food, but a strange sense of unease crept up his spine, a reminder of the dangers lurking in the shadows of this unknown land. He shook it off. "It's just a forest. No reason to be jumpy."
He gathered dry sticks, wrapping a piece of cloth around one to make a makeshift torch. The cloth crackled against the fire's heat, and a small flame flickered to life. Celm held the torch out before him, the light flickering as the shadows stretched and danced around him. The warmth felt like a fleeting comfort, quickly swallowed by the cold creeping in from the forest.
The forest seemed different tonight. A sense of something odd lingered in the air, though Celm couldn't put his finger on it. As he wandered further into the darkened thicket, he noticed something peculiar.
"Mushrooms?" Celm muttered, kneeling down to examine the small, wiggling fungi. They seemed to twitch, almost as if they had a life of their own. His eyes widened in confusion. "What... the hell?"
He reached for one, but it darted away, quickly burrowing itself deeper into the earth. Celm blinked, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. "Did that mushroom just... move?"
Shaking his head, he pushed the strange thought aside. "Whatever. It's probably just some weird plant."
His hunger urged him to continue searching, and soon enough, his keen eyes spotted something more promising. A patch of fruits, some orange-scaled and others a deep, blood-red. They glistened in the torchlight, their colors mesmerizing. He grabbed them, stuffing them into his pockets without a second thought. "Could be useful. Might as well grab them while I can."
As he moved deeper into the thicket, he spotted more strange plants. Some were withered and decayed, like rotten zombies, while others pulsed with an eerie glow. He frowned. "I'll pass on those." He was no fool, something about those plants screamed danger. He preferred to trust his instincts.
"What's this?" he asked aloud, spotting a few mushrooms that seemed almost rock-like, tough and spiky to the touch. He examined them closely, their edges glistening with a sheen he couldn't identify. "I'll take these too. They seem... edible." His voice was almost unsure, but hunger won out, and he carefully placed them into his pocket with the other fruits.
The forest around him seemed to pulse with an energy that felt too alive, too aware of his every move. He couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched. But he ignored it. He couldn't afford to be paranoid.
"Alright, that should be enough for now," he said, looking down at his bulging pockets. "Time to head back."
The way back felt longer than it should have, each step heavy as his exhaustion settled back in. But as he walked, something in the bushes ahead caught his attention. Movement. A rustle. Celm paused, listening intently.
"Maybe... just maybe, there's something more I can get," he muttered to himself. "It's not like I'm going to overdo it. But if I can find more, why not?"
He crouched low, holding his torch carefully to avoid alerting whatever was causing the disturbance. His breath hitched in his chest as he moved closer, the shadows of the underbrush obscuring whatever it was.
Suddenly, the rustling stopped, and a sense of dread filled the air. He crept forward, and as he parted the brush, his eyes widened in shock.
"Is that... a boar?" Celm's voice was barely a whisper. The creature lay in front of him, its body still, feathers ruffled. It appeared untouched, no wounds, no signs of a struggle. But there was something off about it. The air felt thick with a strange, suffocating tension.
"What the hell happened to you?" Celm muttered, kneeling beside the boar. He gently poked it with a finger, feeling the cold, lifeless body. He checked its mouth, and his stomach turned. There, lodged between its teeth, was a trace of the same mushroom he'd tried to catch earlier. The one that had darted away.
"No..." Celm's breath caught in his throat. His mind raced. "That... that mushroom was poisonous?"
His thoughts spun as he connected the dots. If he had eaten that mushroom, the same fate would have awaited him. A chill ran down his spine. He backed away from the boar's body, a mix of relief and terror filling him. "That could've been me," he muttered, shaking his head. "Damn, that was close."
He stared at the creature, torn between what to do next. "I can't leave it here. I need to take it. It's food."
But then, a thought occurred to him. What if this was a trap? What if something else was waiting to pick off the helpless wanderer who dared to approach? He glanced nervously at the dark forest around him.
"The risks..." Celm murmured, his thoughts racing. "I could bring it back, but what if it attracts predators? If something else is out here hunting, I'm just leading it to my camp."
A horrifying thought crossed his mind: if he left the boar out here, and it was gone by morning, that could only mean one thing, a predator, something bigger, was lurking nearby. He shuddered. "I'll hide it for now," he decided, dragging the body into a nearby bush and covering it with leaves. "If it's gone by morning, I'll know I'm not alone out here."
With a final glance at the hiding spot, he made his way back to his camp, heart racing with the unsettling thought of predators stalking the area. The torch light flickered in his hand as he returned to the warmth of his fire.
Back at camp, Celm sat down and exhaled slowly, his hands trembling as he took the fruits and mushrooms from his pockets. The strange collection of food looked almost otherworldly under the glow of the fire, the colors almost too vibrant to be real. He examined them carefully, his stomach growling louder now than ever before.
"What am I supposed to do with this?" Celm whispered to himself, holding up the orange-scaled berries. "Do I eat it? Or... what if it's more like the boar?"
He shook his head, frustration building. "I guess I'll just have to take the risk."
He picked up a berry and popped it into his mouth, chewing slowly, his eyes scanning the camp as he waited for any sign of danger. "I have to survive. I can't keep second-guessing everything," he muttered, almost to himself.
The taste was sharp, tangy, and surprisingly sweet. Celm felt his stomach settle as the berry's warmth spread through him. He reached for the mushrooms next, wondering if they would be just as safe. He chewed carefully, and as he swallowed, a sense of contentment washed over him. For the first time in what felt like forever, Celm felt something akin to peace. It wasn't just hunger being sated, it was a feeling of calm, of warmth, something he hadn't experienced in far too long.
A small, genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he leaned back against the rough bark of the tree. His exhaustion was still there, but it didn't feel as heavy now. The purple moon above shimmered, casting long shadows as the night deepened. The fire crackled, and for the first time in a long while, Celm allowed himself to relax, for now.
"Huh," he muttered, glancing up at the sky, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've never felt this full... this satisfied before. Maybe... maybe it's not so bad. This place, this moment."
He chuckled softly to himself, almost in disbelief. "Food. That's all it took... Just a full belly and the silence of the forest, and I can almost forget everything else."