I love swimming. It's always pleasant to cool off after a hot summer day by taking a dip. I used to spend weekends at a little cottage my family owned on this small lake by my house so I could swim whenever I wanted. So when I came across this stream, it isn't exactly surprising that I'd take the time to have a short swim. It wasn't hot in the forest I was in, but it was still quite pleasant to strip down and leap into the waters. I did have to get out and dry off shortly after though. My situation is a bit too pressing right now to spend to much time on activities that don't contribute to my survival.

With drinkable water no longer being an issue, I'm going to concentrate on the next most pressing necessity for survival, namely food. I need a reliable source of food. I didn't see any berries or plants since I've been in this forest. Though, any I do find could be poisonous, so it'd be prudent to be wary of anything I find. Outright hunting would be difficult since I have no experience and no confidence in being able to find or track animals. I think I should make some traps surrounding wherever I decide to settle down and build a shelter. That could net me some meat that I could supplement with whatever I can forage. Thinking about it, I could fish.

I glance at the river I just swam in. It's roughly 12 feet across and about 6 feet to the bottom at the deepest point. I can't see to the riverbed clearly, but it's quite likely it has at least some small fish in it. With a spear and some practice I'd be able to catch some food. All the more reason to settle near the stream then.

With that settled, I should look for some place to start to set up. I could stay here, but the riverbank and small valley the river is situated in doesn't really provide much coverage. I'll head downstream until I find some place suitable.

The walk is still uncomfortable with my soreness, but it's easier to enjoy the natural beauty of the forest with some of my immediate needs taken care of. Hunger is still an issue. It is quite manageable at this level though.

I ended up walking for about two and a half hours until I spotted what I has looking for. While I was walking the scenery has become progressively more hilly, though the riverbank ended up flattening somewhat into a more gentle slope. I also saw several tributaries lead into the river I'm following. It's grown into a pretty respectable river. What will be my camp is a shallow cave in the side of hill about 40 feet from the river. The cave only about four feet deep and six feet tall but it's plenty enough to sleep and keep dry under. Approaching it, I let myself plop down in it.

Walking took more out of me than I expected. Indolence is deadly in nature nonetheless.

First order of business is cleaning the place up. I spend a while moving all the dead branches and detritus to places more useful to me. I've set up a wood pile for fires near the cave, and found a nice straight branch to use for a spear. Sharpening it may be harder than I thought though. I'll need to find some flint if I want a decent edge. A sharp-ish point will do for spear-fishing, and just wood will work fabulously for that.

I grab a suitably shaped rock and attempt to whittle my spear to a point. Several tens of minutes later I end up with a proper spear. Now armed and hungry I kick off my shoes and take to a more shallow part of the river.

After observing for a while, I see the occasional flitter of scales and fins. I know the timing a bit better now, so I raise my spear to be poised to strike.

"There!"

A miss unfortunately. I ready my spear for another.

"Ah!"

Another miss.

"Hmm."

"Ah! Right."

Refraction, of course! I have to account for that, otherwise I'll just be aiming at the riverbed. I'll try this again.

I raise my spear for a third time.

Wait...

"Hah!"

I lift my spear up expecting to see a fish dangling off the point. There isn't. I definitely felt my spear hit something. Inspecting it a bit closer I notice a bit of cartiledge stuck on the wood.

I probably hit a fin. With a little luck and a ton more tries, and I'll have a decent meal. Going on in the same manner I finally manage to get one after 3 more thrusts.

"Hah!"

I inspect my catch.

"Yes!"

It's kinda small. It'll take three or four for a proper meal. I think I'll fish for a while yet.

I ended up spending a couple of hours getting five more fish before calling it a day. I have experience cleaning fish so it wasn't too difficult to figure out what to do. Actually gutting them proved to be more demanding than I initially thought due to not having any good tools. This was alleviated moderately when I scavenged around and found a wide, flat stone and a small, arrowhead-shaped rock. This allowed me to prepare the fish satisfactorily.

After dumping the fish guts, I consider my next challenge.

Now to make a fire to cook my fish. I know it's possible to start a fire by using the friction made by rubbing two sticks together and I've even seen it done several times before. Actually doing it is something else entirely, though. The set up I'm trying to make is called a hand drill. It's made of one stick held down with a foot while another stick is pressed into an indentation made in the first stick and twisted quickly with both hands. The embers created by the friction of the sticks are then put into something easily lit to then create a proper fire.

Finding some suitable tinder and sticks to make the firestarter I attempt to recreate what I've seen of hand drills. It's not easy to put pressure on the stick while twisting it. The friction point does heat up after a few twists, but actually getting it to burn is difficult.

I get the hang of it after half an hour or so of fiddling with it. I've rubbed the palms of my hands quite raw in the process unfortunately. Now I'm confident enough to move on to the next step. I've made a little fuzzy nest out of various pieces of string and cloth that were coming off of my clothes and some thin, dry bits of bark. I spend some time setting up a ring of rocks close to my cave and my wood pile, laying out some small sticks in preparation.

I assume the position for my hand drill. I place my I don't want to waste these precious materials.

Breathe.

In and out.

Here we go.

I vigourously twist the hand drill, creating a thin wisp of smoke after a minute. I then grab the nest and quickly tap the hand drill into it. The wisp gets thinner. I blow on the nest until I can see an orange glow inside. Placing the nest in the firepit I deposit some small twigs on it. I continue blowing while the twigs slowly catch fire. The following few minutes are spent putting progessively larger twigs onto my growing campfire.

After another ten minutes I'm confident It'll continue burning for some time without my supervision. It's getting to be evening now and my hunger pangs have been getting worse.

Grabbing a few sticks I make some skewers and slowly roast the fish. It takes a few minutes but soon the smell is intoxicating. I quickly devour the five cooked fish. They tasted heavenly. Hunger really is the best spice.

"Haaah." I sigh.

It's getting to be dark soon. I'm tired too.

I think I'll head to bed. Well, "bed" in a more loose sense since I'm just going to lie down in my cave. I'll have to make one tomorrow. Somehow.

I make my way over to my cave, laying down facing the fire, and slowly drift off to sleep.

Pit-pat-pit-pat.

Snap.

Crunch.

"Ughh" I groan. So noisy.

...

Ah. It's stopped.

I roll over.

"RrRRrrRrRR" I hear a growl.

I freeze in fear for a moment. Then I turn.

It's a dog. Or more accurately a coyote of some kind. It has mangy green-brown fur and it's lips are curved into a snarl. I have no more time to inspect it as it lunges for me.

I throw myself upwards, narrowly avoiding getting mauled. It's close now. Too close. I'm on my feet now. I run.

I'm not fast enough. It jumps on me, sinking it's teeth into my thigh. I fall to the ground.

It hurts. It hurts bad. I attempt to shake it off, but that only serves to tear my thigh more.

My flailing has done nothing more than throw my camp into disarray. I see it then. My fishing spear, laying forgotten to my side. The coyote loosens it's jaws as I reach for my spear. I'm relieved for but a second as it leaps for my throat. I throw an arm out to keep it away as I finally grasp my spear.

The coyote is knocked aside by my hit. That gives me some space to scramble up and point my spear inbetween us.

The coyote eyes it warily as it begins to walk sideways, trying to circle me. I mimic this and slowly flank him, keeping my eyes firmly on the coyote.

This gives me time to breathe. Time to breathe and to assess. The coyote is alone, and from how mangy and thin it looks, desperate. Cornered animals are dangerous. I could flee, but I don't like my odds. Not with my injured thigh.

I stumble when my leg hasn't responded how I wanted it to and caught on a rock.

The coyote leaps. It almost seems to be in slow motion. I raise my spear and watch enraptured as the point sinks through it's ribcage into it's heart, and then as the lifeless body knocks me over.

I layed there for while, not thinking. When I came to I was looking up into the cloudless sky.

Then I noticed it.

"Heh."

I laughed.

"Hahahah!"

Because when confronted with such a fact, one can choose to either laugh or cry.

"Ahahaahahhaha!"

So I laughed.

I laughed and laughed, until I could only cry.

I cried myself to sleep under the twin moons of a foreign world.