Thankfully when he was younger he had had a camping phase. He may have lost his whimsy over time, but he was never less intense, so he studied it hard. He learned all kinds of shit that he could now remember with complete clarity. He opted for the “Swedish Log” style of fire building.

For that, he required a bit of wood.

Wood…

He looked at the trees surrounding him and knew immediately that those were not an option. Instead, he’d have to opt for the twigs and branches that were actually small enough for him to manage. That said, there was still the damned problem of how to cut it to size. He didn’t have a knife or an axe, so he’d have to start from scratch.

Flintknapping a rock was simple, at least in concept. In practice it proved to be far more of a pain in his ass than he ever hoped it would be. After what felt like an hour of attempting to whack a rock against another rock with the literal strength of a squirrel… he gave up with that idea.

There had to be an easier way to do this.

Tedrick tried to query the nearby plants, but, same as usual, they didn’t know anything useful. Just confusion. Plant things. Not very helpful. It did give him an idea, however. Talking to plants existed here… wherever here was… so it was kinda like magic, right? Maybe other sorts of magic existed too. He was a fairy thing after all… and about as tall as a long blade of grass…

Yeah… magic… How was he even supposed to get started on that?

Thinking on folklore, as well as the limited movie knowledge he possessed, Tedrick considered what others had done in stories. Usually it was some combination of frustration, meditation, and willpower. They desired to do something, put forth the effort, usually did something about “moving energy around their body” or around the area, and pushed it out. To feel the energy, usually they meditated.

It was time to meditate, he supposed.

He was well-versed in this, at least. He had been meditating since he was six, maybe even earlier. After the accident it was a mixture of therapy and a coping technique for him. It forced his body to calm down. Forced him to think more clearly. It also meant he got more work done more quickly, and for a workaholic like him, that was perfect.

After a little bit of searching for a good-sized rock, he took it, and himself, up into a sturdy-looking flower growing out of the side of a tree. A relatively safe place to explore this little endeavor. He placed the rock in front of him and crossed his legs - wow that was still such a sensation to get used to… was it weird that he kind of sort of didn’t want this to be a dream? Not that he’d really admit it.

So, this rock. He visualized his goal. The rock changing, melting, becoming the shape he wanted. A single bladed hatchet. Of the stone becoming as liquid, falling away, falling from a solid central shape.

With the idea solidly in mind, playing on repeat… next came the willpower. Reaching out, he touched the stone. But it felt nothing like it did previously. It felt like very soft clay, easily movable. His heart skipped a beat, or at least it felt like it since he didn’t want to assume anything about his physiology. He had a hard time before, but now that he was actually doing magic, he could recognize the flow of power through and around him. It was so distinct. To him it felt like… Less like a flow of blood, but more like hydraulic pressure.

He visualized it as a series of valves and fluids, using the pressure of the fluid contained by the valves to move in a concise, controlled amount. Unfortunately for him, he had no idea how to measure that pressure, and by the time he had reached the “solid core” of the stone, what he pulled out when the stone finished crumbling away was much more like a… stumpy, deficient pick.

Oh. That was… Not the intention. The handle actually broke off in his hand for the strain of holding up the malformed “axehead”.

Well, that didn’t work out very well. But it was significant progress from his prior efforts at flintknapping.

Take two.

The second time worked far better, wherein he exercised his meditation techniques to keep both positive and negative emotions in check. It turned out more or less what he wanted, even if the hatchet was significantly… er… rougher in design than intended. But he had to take his wins where he could get them for now.

Time to be picky about it later. He had to survive until then.

It didn’t take long to realize, though, that he had to give it another go. This axe was just… too dull and misshapen. Not even magically crafted weapons could fully escape physics.

Shadows flickered across the ground in front of him as something flew overhead, and he snapped out of it, as he gave the process another (now fourth) try. Shit. Right. This was cool, but rocks wouldn’t keep him warm, fed, or hydrated.

He decided his current try was good enough, and began to scout locations for his fire. The main problem was his size; it meant there would tons of places he COULD camp, but if that ant creature earlier was nearly his size, if he got tagged by a wasp or something, he’d be done for. Properly skewered. Hell, given his size he could have wound up getting snapped up by a fish in his search for water. Wouldn’t that be a ridiculous way to go…

The conclusion he came to was that it needed to be up off the ground, but also with a protective shell to deter creatures. To do that, he experimented by placing two pebbles next to each other and merging them. When they went together smoothly, and could be easily changed into a round cup, he moved his rock-dish up to the tree he’d earlier selected. Bringing rock after rock up, he melded them together until he had a decent sized orb with holes in the top to vent smoke and allow in fresh air. With the materials of the holes he punched, he made a bunch of spikes that he planted all around the sphere.

After that it was a breeze to gather the twigs and sticks he needed to start his fire. Gathering a little tinder, he made a few leaves into strips to make a crude rope, and then several more to serve as actual fire material, combined with bark shreds. Using his rope, he made a stick into a simple drill firestarter. A task that took more persistence than strength. But he had the former in spades.

Last of all, he brought another pebble to merge into his orb, making a flat area to lay a ways away from the fire. It was a small flame, so he didn’t need much distance, but the mostly closed design meant that the heat was contained well. The small size of the materials meant it should produce minimal sparks, so he was comfortable making a bed of more leaves.

Tomorrow he would find water.