The wind had shifted, carrying with it a deeper chill that you hadn't felt before. Winter was coming, you could feel it in your bones, and with it came a new urgency. It had been days since you last saw anyone—Shawnee, settler, or otherwise. The forest swallowed everything, leaving only you, the trees, and the ever-present sound of your own breathing.
Supplies were running out. The Slim Jim you had rationed was long gone. Your water bottle, still intact, was refilled from the stream, but the cold gnawed at you relentlessly. The vape in your pocket was more a comfort than a necessity now; the nicotine eased the stress, but it wasn't enough to distract from the growing hunger and the brutal reality of survival.
You had learned quickly that the future's conveniences weren't enough in this time. The forest did not care about your tools or technology, and you were forced to adapt. The few bits of wire, batteries, and electrical components you had left seemed more useless by the day. Each morning, you rose with one simple goal: survive.
But today, survival felt like it had become even more distant. As you crouched by a stream, filling your bottle with the frigid water, something didn't feel right. The usual sounds of the forest—the birds, the rustling leaves—were absent. A silence had fallen, thick and oppressive. You looked around, senses heightened by weeks of isolation. And then you saw it.
A bear, massive and dark, moving slowly between the trees about fifty yards away. It hadn't noticed you yet, but it was close enough that any wrong move could catch its attention. You knew enough about bears to understand the danger. You had no weapons, no real defense against something like that. All you could do was remain perfectly still.
Your breath caught in your throat as the bear sniffed the air, eyes scanning its surroundings. For a moment, you thought it might pass by, uninterested, but then it stopped, its gaze locking in your direction.
Your mind raced. What could you do? There was no way you could outrun it, no high ground to retreat to. The cold metal of your multitool was a pitiful comfort in your hand. Slowly, you began to back away, trying not to make any sudden movements, but the bear took a few steps toward you, its massive paws sinking into the snow with quiet force.
Then, the air split with a sound—a branch snapping underfoot. You froze. The bear did too. But it wasn't you who had made the noise.
Out of the corner of your eye, you caught movement: the woman. She was there, standing just beyond the treeline, her bow raised, calm as ever. You didn't know how she had found you again, nor did you have time to think about it.
She released an arrow, and it struck the ground near the bear's feet. The animal hesitated, then, sensing the danger, turned and lumbered away, back into the thick of the forest.
Your heart pounded as the woman approached. There was something different about her today—something in her eyes. She spoke no words, only glanced at the direction where the bear had been, then at you. There was no expression of relief, no smile or reassurance. She simply nodded, acknowledging the moment, and turned to leave once more.
For a moment, you considered calling out to her, asking for help, or maybe even just some kind of explanation for her presence. But the words caught in your throat. Instead, you just watched her disappear into the forest, leaving you alone again.
Shaking off the encounter, you forced yourself to focus on what needed to be done. The threat of the bear might have passed, but you were still no closer to securing food or shelter for the night. The sun was already sinking lower, casting long shadows over the ground, and the temperature was dropping fast. You needed to find some kind of safety, something to eat, and fast.
After trekking deeper into the woods, you found what looked like an old animal den, nestled between the roots of a large oak. It wasn't much, but it would offer some protection from the cold. Gathering what dry branches and leaves you could find, you managed to start a small fire, huddling close to it for warmth.
As night settled in, the fire flickered weakly, offering just enough heat to keep the worst of the chill at bay. Your thoughts drifted back to the woman. She had saved you twice now, but you still didn't know anything about her—where she came from, what her intentions were. Her presence had been almost spectral, as if she were part of the forest itself.
But as much as you tried to make sense of it, you couldn't afford to dwell on it. Your body was screaming for rest, and the exhaustion was beginning to set in.
Just as you started to drift off, a sound jolted you awake—a rustling in the bushes nearby. Your heart leapt into your throat. Was the bear back? You reached for your multitool, knowing full well it wouldn't be enough.
But it wasn't the bear. It was something else. The bushes parted, and through the dim light of the fire, you saw a pair of glowing eyes. Not large enough to be the bear, but still predatory. A wolf.
This time, there was no mysterious woman to save you. You were on your own.
The wolf circled your small campfire, its eyes locked on you. You could see its ribs protruding from its sides—it was starving, desperate. Much like you.
There was no time for thinking, no time for anything but action. Grabbing a half-burnt stick from the fire, you stood up, holding it out in front of you like a torch. The wolf hesitated, watching the flames dance in the darkness, but it didn't back away.
It lunged.
You swung the burning stick with all your strength, catching the wolf on the side. It yelped in pain, retreating back into the shadows. You didn't wait to see if it would return. Throwing the last of the dry wood on the fire, you crouched low, ready for another attack.
But none came. The wolf, wounded and frightened, disappeared into the night, leaving you once again alone.
Your hands trembled as you sat back down, the adrenaline slowly fading. You had survived, but only barely. The fire crackled softly, its light flickering in the cold night air.
For the first time since you had arrived in this brutal world, you felt the weight of it pressing down on you. The struggle was constant, relentless. And there was no end in sight.
You leaned back against the tree, staring up at the sky, wondering how much longer you could keep this up. Wondering if survival was even possible.