Days blended into one another as Kael and Remy settled into their new routine, trying to earn their keep in the hostile wilderness. The cave, though cold and bare, was their sanctuary from the dangers that lurked outside. However, Kael knew they couldn't stay hidden forever.
Remy, ever resourceful, continued his foraging missions. The small rat would scuttle off into the wilderness and return with his usual finds—berries, seeds, and occasionally some roots. Kael, on the other hand, had struggled with his contribution.
Every day he attempted to craft traps, hoping to catch something. But despite his best efforts, most of his traps had failed. The simple snares he set were either too loose or placed poorly, and the animals that roamed near their cave were too smart—or too fast—for him.
"Remy, you have to be careful out there,"
Kael reminded his companion before each outing. The thought of Remy encountering a dangerous predator sent a pang of anxiety through his chest.
"We don't know what's out there..."
Remy squeaked in response, his tiny face scrunching up with what Kael could only describe as a haughty look, as if saying, I've survived worse.
His companion had an arrogant streak, a confidence honed from his days navigating the sewers.
Kael couldn't help but chuckle softly, shaking his head.
"Just… be careful, alright?"
With a quick nod, Remy scampered out of the cave, disappearing into the underbrush. As the sound of his little feet faded, Kael sighed and leaned back against the cave wall. His fingers drummed anxiously on the armrest of his wheelchair. He hated the feeling of helplessness that washed over him every time Remy left. A funny feeling began to grow in his chest, a mix of worry and... something else.
He'd seen that same look before on the faces of the caretakers back at the orphanage—the way they watched as children left with their new families. There was always a mix of concern and relief in their eyes. But that look was never directed at him. For Kael, they only had pity and impatience, as if he were a burden they couldn't wait to get rid of.
"Concern... So this is what they were feeling, huh?"
Kael murmured to himself, watching the empty cave entrance.
"I hope Remy will be okay."
A wave of guilt surged through him. He'd come to rely on Remy so much, and now he worried that he wasn't doing enough in return. The little rat had become more than just his familiar—he was family. And Kael wasn't about to let his family do all the work.
"No use worrying,"
He told himself, wheeling forward to inspect the trap he had set earlier that morning.
"I need to do what I can. I shouldn't keep relying on Remy to do all the work."
Kael had insisted that Remy stick to finding forageable food—seeds, fruits, mushrooms—anything that didn't involve risking an encounter with other animals.
Even animals smaller than Remy were out of the question. The thought of his companion tangling with something larger or more dangerous than they could handle sent a shiver down his spine.
But Kael knew they couldn't survive on roots and berries alone. He needed to find meat, something that could sustain them for longer.
With renewed determination, he rolled his wheelchair over to the small area where he'd set his trap—a rudimentary snare made from sticks, vines, and bits of cloth. It wasn't much, and Kael didn't really know what he was doing.
Orphans like him weren't given proper education. The caretakers only invested time and resources into the children they deemed geniuses, those who could bring value to them. For someone like Kael, paralyzed and disabled, they were left to fend for themselves.
"Well, guess this'll take days,"
He muttered, adjusting the trap for what felt like the hundredth time.
Still, he was determined. He might not have had formal education, but he wasn't stupid. He'd figure this out.
And after days of patience, trial, and failure, Kael finally succeeded. He returned to the trap one morning to find a small, rabbit-like creature caught in its snare. The animal thrashed weakly, its fur slick with dew, eyes wide with fear. For a moment, Kael just stared at it, a mix of happiness, relief, and guilt swirling in his gut. He didn't want to take its life, but he knew they needed food.
Slowly, Kael steeled himself, wheeling closer to the creature. He made quick work of the task, as quick as his hands allowed, and before long, the animal was dead. A hollow silence filled the cave as Kael sat back, staring at the rabbit-like creature. He felt no joy in the kill, but a sense of accomplishment settled in his chest.
"Finally..." he whispered, wiping sweat from his brow.
He looked out at the wilderness, where Remy was still scouring for food, and felt a strange sense of peace. It wasn't much, but he had contributed. He had done something to help.
Now, he just needed Remy to return safely. Together, they'd share this small victory.