The fire crackled in front of me, its flickering orange light casting long shadows against the trees. The rabbit's meat had settled in my stomach, but the gnawing hunger never fully left. There was no real fullness here—just a temporary reprieve from the deep, aching emptiness that had followed me since I'd woken in this strange world.
Night had fallen quickly, as it always did in the wilderness, and the cold was beginning to creep in again. I had gathered more wood for the fire, but it wasn't much. It wasn't enough to make the night feel safe. The world around me seemed to close in tighter with every passing minute, the dark edge of the forest always threatening to swallow me up. Every snap of a twig, every rustling leaf, had my senses on edge.
I adjusted the logs in the fire, watching the embers swirl in the air as I tried to ignore the creeping panic at the back of my mind. But the fire's warmth was only temporary, and I had no illusion that it would protect me from what lay beyond the circle of light.
The storm came suddenly.
I first heard it in the distance, a low rumble in the air, distant but unmistakable. At first, I thought it was the wind, but the sound quickly grew louder, closer, more violent. The sky above me shifted, the dark clouds gathering faster than I could have imagined. The temperature dropped abruptly, and the wind picked up, sending sharp gusts through the trees. I stood, heart pounding in my chest, as the first few drops of rain began to fall.
I had no shelter—no real protection from what was coming. The little hollow I had found earlier wouldn't hold up against a storm. The air seemed to grow thicker with every passing second, as if the very forest itself was preparing for what was about to happen.
The rain began to pour.
At first, it was just a few heavy droplets, but then it became a torrential downpour. The forest exploded into a rush of wet sounds, the leaves and branches trembling under the weight of the rain. The fire sputtered, its flames fighting against the deluge but quickly being drowned out. The light from the fire flickered weakly before dying entirely, plunging the clearing into darkness.
I stood frozen for a moment, disoriented by the sudden change, my mind racing. I had no time to think. The rain wasn't going to let up. I couldn't stay out in it.
I turned and ran, blindly stumbling through the wet underbrush, trying to find any kind of shelter. My feet slipped on the wet ground, my body aching with every movement, but there was no time to hesitate. The storm was getting worse, and I had to keep moving.
The rain poured down in sheets, a curtain of water that blurred everything in front of me. My clothes were soaked in seconds, clinging to my skin. My feet sank deep into the mud, and I had to push through the thick brush with all my strength, struggling to find solid ground. My eyes were stinging from the rain, and my breath was ragged from the exertion.
I didn't know how long I ran—how far I had gone—but eventually, I stumbled into something different. The ground beneath me flattened, and I emerged into a small, rocky outcrop, a natural formation of stone that jutted out into the woods. The ledge was narrow, barely wide enough for me to crouch down on, but it was dry.
It wasn't much, but it was all I had.
I collapsed against the stone, my body shivering from the cold, my teeth chattering despite the small shelter. The rain hammered against the rocks above me, its roar deafening, but at least I was out of the worst of it. My clothes clung to my body, heavy with water, and my hair was soaked through, dripping down my face.
I tried to catch my breath, but every inhale was sharp, as if the air itself had been soaked by the storm. The exhaustion hit me all at once, my limbs trembling from the effort. My stomach, still empty, gnawed at me once more, a dull ache that seemed to burrow deep into my bones.
I couldn't afford to rest for too long. I needed to find more food, something to last me through this storm. But the reality was clear—my strength was fading. I was cold, wet, and utterly alone.
The storm seemed to last forever. Hours passed, or maybe it was only minutes—it was hard to tell. Time felt like it had stopped, the world reduced to the rhythm of the rain and the howling wind. The rocks under me grew colder as the water from the storm seeped through the cracks, and the chill began to bite deeper. I huddled closer to the stone wall, my arms wrapped around my knees, trying to preserve what little heat I had left.
Eventually, the storm began to fade. The rain lightened, the winds died down, and the world outside the small outcrop became quieter. The storm had passed, leaving only the muffled sound of water dripping from the trees and the occasional gust of wind sweeping through the clearing.
I couldn't stay here. I knew that.
The shelter had kept me dry for the most part, but I was still exposed. The storm had been a reminder of how fragile my position was, how quickly things could go from bad to worse. I needed to find something more secure—a place I could stay long enough to recover.
But the world outside still seemed dangerous, wild. The forest was unpredictable, and I had no real sense of what I was walking into. Each day was an unknown, a risk I had to take just to keep moving.
I took one last, deep breath, steadying myself. Then, I stood, my legs wobbling as I carefully stepped out from under the rocky outcrop and back into the damp, still-darkened world.
I had no choice. There was no going back.