The red jasper disappeared into my storage with that familiar lack of sensation, leaving staring at empty space where a beautiful stone had been monts before. I muttered while reshouldering my backpack.
"Now I’m just stealing random rocks. This is what my life has beco."
Counting off the paces specified in the hunter’s journal from where the rock had been, I stop over a spot. Three feet down from here should be the dical cache. The folding shovel extended with a satisfying click when I pulled it out.
I aid my phone’s flashlight at the ground to make sure there were no rocky surfaces. The recent rain had softened the soil, making the first few inches co away very easily. Dark, loamy earth clung to the shovel blade as I worked.
"At least I’m getting better at this. The handle hasn’t broken yet. Then again, I’m not trying to use it as a werewolf..."
I spoke to myself and to Vrika, who seed resigned to my nocturnal activities. Despite its exhaustion. But I’m not asking it to transform or particularly heal .
This shovel was a significant improvent, creating a neat, rectangular excavation quickly. I settled into a steady rhythm of sliding into earth and flipping it out beside the hole. Pausing occasionally to check my progress with the flashlight.
< It would have been unfortunate if it filled back in with rainwater... >
Fifteen minutes of determined digging revealed the top of a tal container with a clang. Smaller than the weapons cache, but about the size of one of the large ammo boxes inside that had been.
I cleared the remaining soil carefully, not wanting to damage whatever was inside by striking it again. The container was made of lightweight alloy and sealed with professional-grade waterproof tape, the journal said. No locks, no visible traps - just thorough protection against the elents.
"I’m actually surprised he doesn’t make use of more traps. But I guess he was arrogant."
The problem now was transportation. With the big jasper occupying my Stash slot, I couldn’t simply store the cache and carry on. I’d have to physically haul everything back to where I left the shipping container.
The kit’s tal alone probably weighed at least twenty pounds - and my backpack was already loaded with tools and supplies. That’s if it would even easily fit inside its mouth... of course, Vrika seed amused by my predicant.
"In my arms it is. Without your help. This is going to be a long walk back."
I filled in the dug up site first, scattering nearby pine needles over the disturbed earth to partially disguise my work. The trek back through the dark forest proved every bit as dull as expected, being careful not to trip or jostle the contents until I verified what they were.
By the ti I reached my makeshift camp, so sweat had soaked through my wicking shirt from these exertions despite the very cool night air. I set down the cache with relief inside the container before peeling away the sealing tape.
It revealed an interior packed with militaristic effort. Every item had its designated space, secured with foam padding or elastic straps to prevent damage during moving and storage. The top layer of goods already made exhale in relief - this being a useful find.
dical supplies that went far beyond basic first aid. Sealed packets of ’surgical sutures’, gauze for staunching severe bleeding, antibiotics with years left before expiration, and a complete ergency surgical kit with instrunts... that I couldn’t identify, but trusted were important.
"This is better equipped than anything the Duskpaw ever had."
I murmured while examining a packet of [broad-spectrum antibiotics]. The wolf spirit understood that needing such advanced dical care would an sothing had gone very wrong and whimpered. But it’s better to have these things than not.
The second layer contained pain dications, anti-inflammatory drugs, and what appeared to be specialized trauma supplies. Everything was clearly labeled with usage instructions and shelf life. The hunter had been ticulous about maintaining his dical stockpile.
> But kept none of it at his hideout. A weird man. <
At the bottom lay a compact water purification system. Not just basic filters, but a comprehensive kit of tablets and chemical treatnts. The laminated instruction card claid it could process up to two thousand gallons of contaminated water before needing replacent components.
"Enough clean water for months for a single person. This old man really did think of everything. Then use nothing. I’m starting to feel suspicious again..."
Tucked beside the purification system was a small notebook. Water-resistant leather and filled with the hunter’s familiar cramped handwriting. Pages detailed dicinal plants found in the surrounding wilderness, their locations, and applications for various ailnts.
So entries were standard human redies, but others seed specifically researched for treating werewolves. Notes about herbs that could ease transformation pain, poultices for silver contaminant burns, even a tea blend for calming aggressive wolves.
Altogether not sothing I expected him to write about. Maybe he was trying to impress soone? Or maybe what I found in his cabin doesn’t tell everything about the sort of man he was, throughout all of his life.
The journal had painted a picture of an angry old man, but this information here could have been written when he was younger. Such contradiction was puzzling, but not worth much ti wondering about. I closed the notebook and surveyed my haul.
Organizing the dical supplies inside the shipping container took ti. Keeping ergency items accessible while securing the rest in another section on a different shelf was my goal. The water purification system went into an area alongside other survival gear.
"Keeping things organized now will save ti later."
The hunter’s dical notebook I kept in my backpack - along with a course of antibiotics and pain dication just in case I couldn’t summon the shipping container. His insights about dicinal plants could prove valuable.
> And I might pick so up while I’m moving through here. They’ll keep in the container anyway... I think. <
I laid back out on my fleece blanket without shifting or taking off my clothes. The physical exertion had finally made tired enough to sleep. Despite that single mysterious ssage still nagging at the back of my mind.
Whatever BoundaryKeeper wanted could wait until I returned to the city. Like they claid. Right now, I needed rest.
Three more caches still awaited tomorrow... and I had the feeling the easy ones were behind .
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