Truth Be Told, I Prefer to Hum

Aye. A good day for me to think again. The little one was asleep in the little tree shack as I leaped down and brandished my tools for the day. It was a early morn, much more than what I would normally go for.

The meat was good, but if we were to try and travel for who knows how long, then we'd need more. I put my hands in my armpits to warm them enough to ready myself for a hunt. My quarry? Whatever seems to be large and stupid enough to be dragged back here.

I had finally gotten over my initial thoughts about using a bow and instead opted for something simpler, which was a tad more primitive. Good old throwing spears. All sharpened on stones and looking good and straight.

If I threw them hard enough, I would probably be able to go through the hide of a creature.

Or perhaps maybe not? In any scenario, I carefully walked around the tree and went off into the woods, leaving behind the clearing to search a well-sized creature that could prove to be meaty enough for the smoker.

There weren't any birds that I could hear, and the dawn had barely broken through as I jumped from branch to branch, utilizing the grip and strength of the "blessing" given to me. It wasn't much of a blessing, more so a tool that was a giant fucking hindrance if it came down to it.

I didn't want to try and make any extra mistakes, but that would be for when I actually find something. The trees rustled rathe heavily from me going so fast, and since they were animals there was a natural response to hearing more rustling than what would be considered normal.

I slowed down a little as I watched my step on the branch to spot something rather interesting. A wolf, laying in a cave filled with bones of their own quarries. I tried to double-check how far exactly did I travel, and it hit me. I wasn't that far from the clearing, and there was a completely unused cave with a wolf in it.

Man's best friend, they say. Well, right now, I was thinking if it would taste like my best meal. It was a carnivore, lightly omnivorous since they could always go for berries or perhaps honey? 'Wait does honey count as- no no no, stay focused.'

My mental admonishment proved to be fruitful since the hound stirred in it's sleep, freezing me on the branch as I carefully checked my surroundings. There were more of them all around.

I blinked for a moment as I calmed my breathing and thought about my next move here. Here I was, on the branches of a tree that didn't seem to be string enough to handle my weight, looking at a wolf in the cave when I didn't notice that I was in a minefield of fucking canines.

I cursed internally, carefully moving from tree to tree, making sure not to step on anything that could awake the pack. And once I was far away from them, I started to pick up the speed. A wolf pack, in relatively close distance to the clearing where the deer stayed in. That didn't exactly bode all that well. I had to ensure that me and the child didn't get caught in the possible crossfire that could happen if the wolves catch the deer's scent.

A corvid cawed close by as I initially ignored it, until my mind snapped into place about what I heard. A fucking corvid. A raven, those cheeky little birds. I grit my teeth and gripped.mt hands and feet onto the branch, digging into it as I looked around for the illusive little bird.

And then a sharp pain went through my left shoulder as it stung. A cut, fuck me. Corvids in general, which count towards crows and ravens, are rathe intelligent creatures. They may be counted as the signs of death, but they technically aren't.

They simply go wherever the food is aplenty, and a battlefield normally counts as a buffet to them, picking at the spoils of man hunting themselves.

Right now, this little birdie had the bright idea to cut out the middleman and get all down and dirty. My head swivelled about as I readied one of the wooden spears.The little shit was near, and I was more than ready for it.

I swung around where I could, catching glimpses of the bird as it dashed straight through the foliage and out of my sight. It was above me, and it was tracking me.

I may be far away from it and even further from the wolf pack right now, but this little cunt could lead it's friends all the way over to the clearing, where me, the kid, and the deer would have to deal with them.

It was a simple fix, but the method to go about it was more than difficult to get to. I sniffed the air as I slowly climbed down to the ground as I weighed my options. Kill it now, risk losing a life and some of my strength, but save myself some more time to think about getting rid of the wolves.

Or leave it, and have the initial peace to recover as it leads it's friends over to try and kill us. Decisions, decisions. And sadly, the former was an obvious pick. I steadied myself on the ground as I did my best to home in my senses. The wind was a light breeze right now, and I did my bed to feel it on my skin.

'Left leg.'

I moved the part out of the way as quickly as I could as I did my best to clip the cheeky bird, but I failed on that end. It may be a streamline bird, but it wasn't as fast as I've handled before. More or less, it was a far cry from what the kid could do at her furthest when she pushed herself.

The bird was still out of sight and I was thinking that this was a terrible pick of a fight. I dashed out of the area as I could hear it zipping around me, trying to get to me at parts that could hinder me terribly.

It was still a little bugger to try and lose, so I guess I had to play it by the same game it was. I stood my ground again and grit my teeth, and when I felt the back of my knee getting cut from its attacks, I acted like it cut a vital muscle or tendon, not making any sounds to try and trick it.

Surprisingly, the thing was perched right above me. And I was certain that it was checking if I was still alive. I didn't want to bet whether or not it had any skills that would help it tell the difference between a faking prey, or a dead one, so I immediately jumped up as hard as I could and reached out to the little bugger.

It squawked at me as I could only help but grin maddeningly at what I was given. My hands were still in their clawed form, and I had the little bastard in one hand. It actually had some strength to it as it tried to pry itself out of my grasp.

I took it with me after breaking it's wings and clutching the little thing's mouth shut. I couldn't help but chuckle a little. "Oh you may have cut me up like a Thanksgiving turkey there buddo, but sadly for you, you're gonna get cooked like one, spices included."

The bird didn't seem to try and fight against me all that hardly when I said that, which came off as initially confusing, to which I then remedied it by snapping it's neck off. I didn't need to think about this little bastard being another possible pet that the kid could try to go for, so I killed it. It was a very very simplistic little issue that proved to be remedied via a very simplistic answer.

The corpse had to be drained a little, so I did that as much as I could, with a canteen of water that I kept with me as well, and with a knife. The organs that proved to be more effort than what they were worth were left near the tree that I worked on, and any parts of the bastard bird that were looking good were kept.

That's when I noticed it. When I threw the feathers into the tree, they were genuinely sharp. They cut the trunk like bloody butter and fell down to the ground like normal. Alright, sharp and even more annoying bird was working with some very very interesting biology.

Was this monomolecular? I doubt it, but if it was, it might prove to be beneficial to keep at least a couple, if not, all of the feathers for the sake of making some rather interesting tools with them.

There wasn't all that much left aside from the completely deblooded carcass, and the feathers that I kept with me. I did my best not to let it spoil, and when I reached camp it was more than enough time to see the kid tending to the fire, letting it be at the level that wasn't too big, but also not to small.

I whistled at her as I raised my game for the day. She ran over and looked at the bird as she was curious about what it is. "This, little one, is a raven. A bird, if you will. It's a very smart one, but I don't quite know if it's a tasty bird. I'll leave that and the spices to you."

I then handed it over to her as I climbed up and went to the little side where we kept all of the medical supplies that I made from the realm.

They proved to be rather effective, but without any alcohol it would all be for naught. Luckily, I already had such, all thanks to the help of the realm, or not, since I was bleeding all over for just a small small ten milliliters of the stuff.

I cleaned out the wounds carefully as I then padded them with a band-aid and some gauze. I didn't know if I should go even further for them, but I assumed that I probably should.

Then again, the doubt about how they could be used at a later date for the child's sake is already weighing on my mind, so I belayed my action and returned down to the clearing, where the child was placing the entire bird on a stick and leaving it above the fire, cautiously spinning it to make sure that it didn't fall down, or be uncooked in certain spots.

I sat down alongside her, looking at what she did and noticed she put the necessary spices on it. "Did you season the bird as you preferred, little one?"

The question hung in the air for a moment as she seemed to nod slowly.

"More means better, right old man?"

"In some occasions, in other however, more ends up being very bad. I hope you didn't put too much. You saw how much I put onto the meats whenever I cook. It wasn't all that much, and it still ended up being very very strong."

".....it wasn't that much."

"I hope for both our sakes that it wasn't, otherwise this hunt of mine would end up being a waste, and I'd have to go out all over again."

The child simply looked at me as I smiled back at her. Do I still consider her to be a subordinate, if anything? Perhaps. This forest was an odd one, all possible thing about it considered. Even though this maybe a fantasy world with magic in it, it still proved to me that despite how strong they could be, they could still be a fucking quarry provided you know what exactly you were doing.

Me? Not really, I had some basic outlines, and I would normally work them slowly into something that people called "genius". The things that I did back on Earth were some of the most outright questionable acts that even some of the most depraved inmates in my cell block were asking me about.

Why did you have that child bring a bomb back to their parents? Honestly, I was going for the kid's uncle who I had a bit of a feud with, but thankfully the bomb short-circuited right as it seemed it was going to detonate.

They called said-uncle, and watched as he drove off with the bomb, only for it to re-fire again and kill him. Even I was actually confused about how the hell did that occur. I made sure that everything was working decently, and that I got parts that were both within my price range and good enough in quality.

I just shook off the confusion and went about trying to kill someone else after that occasion. The kid snapped me out of my reminiscing and nudged me towards the "spit roasted" raven.

Truth be told, the meat was dark, and I didn't really know too much about it to be safe, albeit I do recall a book saying something about old raven's meat being poisonous. I donut that it was true, since it was just a Redwall book, but I took caution in any case.

I blew the meat carefully as I did my best to cut as much of it off from the bones. The little elf watched as I sighed from how little meat I got off of it.

I looked at the bones and began munching on them instead, handing the meat that I essentially skinned off of it to the child so that she could actually eat something.

There are even more things that weigh upon my mind now, seeing as we have a bit of a "friendly" group who could quite possibly be a grand threat to us here.

All that meat, but in the expense that I was fighting against a group that could very possibly have magic at their disposal. So I pondered and ate the quite surprisingly seasoned raven bones, and readied myself to get as much of the brick as I could.

Which reminds me, the gator was picked absolutely clean, and I got the skull at the very end to look as calcified as it could be. It was a real beauty, with it still having some minor scratches from our little scuffle.

I didn't intend to give it some form of spiritual respect, mostly due to me being terrified that I could summon the ghost of the thing for a second round, but I almost wanted to drag it painfully up the tree and into the shack for it to be a trophy.

I don't really need to explain why that was a completely outright terribly ostentatious plan. A giant gator skull, weighing down on the tree and possibly making it snap? Yeah, hard pass on that front.