Weapon?

"YARGOL! YOU JACKASS, I'LL REALLY TELL HER NOW!" Mog shouted as he got up from the mud, careful not to get the pants marred.

He tossed the pale-orange pants onto a nearby branch, letting it hang as he went back to clean himself off again. Of course, Mikhail imitated him, though he remained silent. Incurring Yargol's wrath when he was still over by their clothes didn't seem like a smart move to him…

After a little while of washing the mud off, the two left the river and shook themselves to get the excess water off themselves. They then grabbed their pants and walked up to the clearing, pushing some shrubbery aside to find that Yargol had stormed off already.

"Do you think we overdid it?" Mikhail asked as he went to the rest of his clothes.

"As if. He's just being a salty bitch."

Mog shook his head before putting his focus on getting dressed.

Mikhail's sort of loose pale-orange pants had a thin strip of loosely hanging thread, almost looking like the skirt of a tassel, covering the seams on their sides, and they were complimented by a tight fitting and simple black t-shirt, and his footwear was a set of leather caligae.

As he put the clothes on, he couldn't help but feel grateful to Yagnar. He still couldn't get over this simple act of kindness. It felt extraordinarily heartwarming considering his most recent memory…

Some of the others came back from the river as the pair finished getting dressed, including Yatur and Kegth.

"You actually plan on shaming big bro?" Kegth asked incredulously.

Mog only flashed a sinister smile…

"Crazy… You think you can handle the fallout?" Yatur asked while pulling his red shirt over his head.

"Don't worry about me, fool," Mog said as he finished strapping his caligae up.

Yatur expected more to follow that line, but when nothing else came, he shrugged his shoulders and went to get dressed as well. Mog and Mikhail didn't stick around after that, and began making the trek back to their current camp.

"Wait so, were you actually serious about telling Glasha earlier, my man?"

Another devious grin spread across Mog's face, yet he didn't say anything. Mikhail paled when he saw that.

"You're brutal, man…"

"Anyway, look! The Chasmosaurs are coming back from grazing!" Mikhail said while pointing to the left.

"Uh-huh… Have fun with that, fool," Mog said as he continued walking forward.

Mikhail ran through the trees, quickly entering the clearing he saw from afar, before greeting the adult that was reigning them over to the camp.

"Hello boy, here to see the Chasmos I take it?"

He nodded, watching the large dinosaurs walk by. This was something that really surprised Mikhail.

Dinosaurs!

The fauna of this world, the beasts, rather, seemed to be similar to the ancient behemoths of his last world.

The Chasmosaurs for example, were large quadrupeds with horns that seemed to be made of ice. There was one such horn above its nose, one above each eye, and several surrounding a rectangular frill that grew from the back of its head.

That frill could light up during the night, providing visibility that allowed them to travel until midnight, when they got tired.

And their scales were almost all an icy blue, matching their horns. But, streaks of white scales seemed to flow outwards from the entirely white frill on its head.

They were a friendly bunch, allowing Mikhail to run his hand on their rough scales as they passed by.

"You know, these lot of big boys and girls were fierce fighters in the wilds of the {Elven} Tundra from which they come from," the man said with a chuckle. "You'd never guess it seeing them like this, am I right?"

The man looked down to Mikhail with a beaming smile.

"Yeah… Also, the what tundra?"

"{Elven} Tundra! You know, where the {Elves} live!"

Mikhail's face of confusion made the man scratch at his beard.

"Erm… You know, pointy ears! Grayish blue skin!"

Mikhail continued to look at him funny.

"Six eyes! Come on, kid! You seriously don't know what an {Elf} is?!"

"I can't say I do…"

Mikhail was left extremely confused by those descriptions. Initially, he thought of Elves when he heard pointy ears, but the rest of the man's description completely threw the image of tall blonde forest dwellers out of his mind's eye.

"You really did lose your memories, huh? Man… Couldn't imagine living like that."

He shook his head empathetically, but soon the last of the Chasmosaurs walked into the clearing. It was the most imposing of the bunch, with its horns looking far more impressive than the other beasts' horns.

The pack leader glanced at the young looking lad, letting out a snort. It was seemingly let out to acknowledge Mikhail's presence as it walked by casually.

All animals in this new world seemed to have much higher intelligence than those of Mikhail's previous world. Some of them, like the pack leader of the Chasmosaurs for example, seemed to be almost sapient.

After taking in their majestic sight for a short while, he quickly ran back to Mog.

"Looking forward to today's hunt, fool?"

"Shit man… I don't know. I've never hunted before…"

"Ah whatever, it'll be a cinch. Especially with Glasha leading us all"

Their walk back concluded as Mog speculated about what they might find today, spouting names like Kryptodrakon and Spinosaur, neither of which Mikhail was familiar with.

They entered the camp, and saw the usual scene.

Yagnar was sitting in front of a random carriage, while the other adults were busy performing various chores around the camp. However, differing from usual, there was a ridiculously large hammer sitting by his side.

"Ah, welcome back, punks!"

"Good to be back, sir!" Mog said while raising his dominant hand, his fist balled up.

Mikhail mimicked the motion without saying anything.

"Mog, take your hammer. The hunting squad is just outside the camp to the west."

Yagnar lifted the large hammer and casually tossed it over, and Mog caught it with basically no effort.

"You got it, boss!"

Mog made the motions to leave, but Yagnar remembered something last second.

"Oh, and your leather pouches!"

He reached under his chair and picked up two brown bags half the size of Mikhail's head, with thick twine woven into their tops.

After catching his leather pouch, Mog stood off to the side, interested in seeing what Mikhail would pick.

"Now then, as for you… Do you have any experience with a weapon?"