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Daniel in Distress [Part 5]
I bolted upright, feeling dreary and lightheaded at first. I wasn’t panting, my heart was at a normal pace, and I hadn’t been having a nightmare. However, I had been having an odd dream, and I remembered it. This alone was a rare event, as my dreams usually stayed in dreamland where they belong. When they didn’t, it usually had some significance, this time more so than any.
I had been in a dank, cave-like cell. Floating. And talking to a scraggly-looking boy about my age. But it seemed like he couldn’t see me.
More importantly, I remembered what had happened when I spaced out in battle the other day. I had been in a dank, cave-like cell. Floating. And talking to a scraggly-looking boy about my age who had broken down in sobs. But it seemed like he couldn’t see me.
I didn’t know why, but it felt… important, somehow. Like he actually existed instead of being a figment of my imagination. I sat there, in the morning’s first rays of sunlight, thinking it through. He didn’t feel like something I had made up, and he stayed true to character. He just felt so… so real. I didn’t think I could just imagine sadness and dedication that strong. I didn’t have it in me.
As the bottom of the glowing red morning sun rose above the horizon, I stood up. There was only one option; I had to go to Rodyle and find this Oscar person to determine if I was crazy or not. Who knows; maybe I’d actually end up accomplishing something. Or maybe I’d just end up making myself look like some mental fool with delusions of grandeur. Not that I cared what anyone thought; I’d most likely never see them again anyways.
And as I stood up and slung my pack over my shoulder, I suddenly realized two things. First of all, I had no clue where I was going. For all I knew, Rodyle could be on the other side; where the sun rises when we see it setting. I’d never heard of it before. And secondly, I was starving. I hadn’t eaten since dinner-time yesterday.
I decided to take care of the later first, unsheathing my leaded katana as I stepped into the forest. I could start a fire and cook my prey in the next clearing.
I stalked around for what seemed like hours, snacking on some jerky every once in a while to keep the hunger at bay. However, I ignored the hunger pangs for the most part, only paying attention to them when they got so bad they wanted to rip my stomach open, which is when I would scarf down a piece or two of jerky or pick a few berries from a nearby bush.
After a while, I was beginning to think I should just give up, scarf down a bunch of berries and jerky and then just leave, hoping to get to a nearby town before dinner-time. That was when I saw it; a lone, distracted deer drinking from the river. It stood odd, as if it had an injured leg. I gave a faint smile as I thought of how perfect this was, though I felt sorry for the poor dear. I’d make it quick.
I silently pulled my hood over my head, shrinking into my cloak and dodging through the shadows as quietly as I could. It made me glad for my simple leather shoes; perfect for sneaking. The sound of the deer slurping covered up the tiny footsteps, making my movement sound like a passing wind to it.
I worked my way as close as I could, then dashed beside it and thrust my sword into it’s side at an angle, piercing it’s heart within seconds. It instantly collapsed, and I was sure that it had felt little to no pain. No reason for it to be tortured. I picked up the bloody carcass and dipped it in the river, letting it bleed out. It washed a wave of red downstream, and I flinched. Though I’m a swordswoman, the sight of blood has always made me flinch. In my battle dance, I never seemed to notice, but afterwards, it always bugged me.
It wasn’t because it was gross or anything like that, but because it meant that whoever it belonged to was missing some of their life. That’s what blood is; the juice of life. I apologized to the deer and promised it that I wouldn’t waste a single piece of it. Call me crazy if you want, but I didn’t take death lightly. It was so… final. Or at least it seemed so. Maybe there was an afterlife. I hadn’t decided either way. Even an animal has value, and it shouldn’t be wasted just for one part of it. Others could use the other pieces. I ate the meat, and sold the fur so it could be used to make clothes and shoes, and the bones so they could be used to make jewelry. As for the head… I usually buried it, since I knew of no use except for hanging it on your wall, which I didn’t have.
So I started cutting off the skin, trying to get as much in one piece as possible. For this, I used the small knife that rested on the small of my back, hidden by my shirt. It was there in case I ever needed to break out of handcuffs.
So I sat by the river, watching the fish swim through it as I cut off the deer’s skin easily after years of practice.
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