CHAPTER 33

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The hare population likely cheered again, having lost interest from one predator, because even a dozen long-eared ones would not be enough to replenish half of his reserves of strength.

 Isaia again chose the carcass of the heaviest boar, the one closest to the edge of the forest, as his new location. That way he didn't have to drag that one to the others, but rather moved the lighter carcasses to this one.

Sometimes he himself didn't understand why he was doing all this. Maybe it was his old predilection not to throw away everything he had on hand in case he needed it someday, a hoarding disorder of his.

There was no practical use for the carcasses, provided there was a change in the order of actions, which involved looking for places where clothes could be purchased rather than starting to play the newly minted tailor.

The carcasses of animals could serve as bait against both wild animals and people, the main thing was what would attract their attention, and then the lad himself would think and figure out the most advantageous way to dispose of the circumstances.

The chosen place was not by accident either. The presence of a cluster of carcasses on the edge of the forest would more easily attract the interest of a potential target, and it would be much easier to notice.

Isaia assumed that he would most likely have to leave the location once he caught someone, for the carcasses would serve as a way to distract people if they did decide to show up looking for the missing individuals.

Of course, the presence in the forest of dozens of animal corpses, which are practically untouched can cause a lot of unnecessary questions and motives, but they were generally harmless to the young man, because they would make other thinkers spend a lot of time on reasoning and assumptions.

The whole of the next day was also spent in preparation for the fulfillment of the plan. First it was a matter of completing what had been begun yesterday afternoon, namely, finding and consuming the blood of a dozen boars, nine to be exact, if we go into arithmetic.

With the feeling of over-saturation came the realization that there was no point in hunting any further, from which Isaia began to wander around the edge of the forest. The walk had a meaningful content, for he wanted to find the best observation spot to see the approaching figures and prepare himself in advance for the intrigues of fate.

Having checked that nothing would keep him from the immediate execution of the plan, he sat down and began his watch. He had everything he needed: a small skein of self-made rope, a knife in his hand, for lack of decent means to fasten it to his belt or back, and a full reserve of stamina, which meant maximum combat readiness.

The day spent in admiring the horizon while waiting began slowly to pass into torture, and accordingly he had some very weighty conjectures, with a rather stern conviction that such long idleness was evidently not his favorite occupation.

There was nothing to save him by distracting and occupying him while he waited. He could not find a way out of the situation where it would be possible to leave this forest without getting into a confrontation with the people he met.

And one does not know, perhaps it will take weeks of uselessness in waiting. Alas, not a single thought came to mind that would not end in another confrontation with people who, not having understood his intentions or not having expressed theirs, would pounce on him again, threatening to harm him, or worse, to end his existence.

And if such an occasion did arise, he would have to kill a human again, followed by draining the blood, something Isaia was not going to get used to.

It was one thing to be a prisoner of circumstance, and do the necessary, and another to start prowling around like a predator, without a shred of morality or moral content, which the young man refused to accept.

Another day of idling and watching forced Isaia to accept the torture and prepare for the third day of waiting, but as it turned out this day was not without surprising events.

Something was happening that the senses had alerted him about. They were shouting and clamoring for change.

Going to the root of the matter, the sensations themselves were not something Isaia could turn on and off at will, using them as if with a switch. The sensation of blood was more like having torches in the distance at nightfall. One could contemplate their presence and movement, indicating and confirming the movement of those with blood in them.

Of course, Isaia was not constantly concentrating on the sensations, from which the procedure itself could still be called activation, but strictly speaking it was correct to use the expression "paid attention".

But now, it was as if a great cluster of these torches had formed at once a very conspicuous large lump of fire, and this lump was approaching the young man. A little more than a dozen men, fourteen to be exact, though it would be more accurate to call them horsemen, had rushed to the edge of the forest and were searching furiously.

From the behavior of the riders, it was immediately clear that this was exactly the search, who spread out and began to wander, searching for what was known only to them, or perhaps unknown, as it was difficult to judge the thoughts of others without having the slightest idea of them.