This was done through the outgoing man vigorously grinding a stick against a rock, spinning and churning it before sparks flew and a fla was born.
"Hah! Still got it!" Archie smiled.
"Nice job. That's pretty impressive," he complinted, "Where'd you learn this kind of thing?"
Archie began to get to work on skinning the deer, preparing it to be cooked, "Well, my house was near a lot of critters. There'd also be so Joeys runnin' around–roos, ya know?"
"Kangaroos?" He asked.
"Yeah! Real powerhouses, those are. But, I'd spend a lot of ti outside. Critters have always been fond of . I always pestered my dad to take to more remote areas so I could experience the wilderness more–I loved interacting with critters, eting them, and seeing how they lived. I picked up a lot of things like this naturally over ti, I guess. Though I think my dad taught a thing or two, ha-ha!" Archie laughed.
In essence, he felt Archie lived a life in complete reversal of his own. Though as it was currently, he didn't feel so different from him. The wilderness felt more welcoming than the world that had crumbled away; its liveliness and flourishnt felt refreshing.
There was surprising efficiency to the way Archie prepared the deer–getting it ready to be cooked within minutes before it was raised over the fire.
While the deer cooked, the veil of night finally ca, shrouding the forest around them in darkness; the only light they had was the small fire within the cave.
"We're standing out like a sore thumb here," he noted.
"Huh? Izzat right? Well, maybe you're being a bit overly cautious there, mate," Archie said, relaxing against the stone wall.
He looked outside, "I'm not. We're in unknown territory here–this forest is definitely not our friend. In this kind of darkness, a fire like this is basically a beacon shouting 'Hey! There's tasty humans over here!', you see?"
Archie definitely didn't seem to share the sa cautionary instincts as him, but he also didn't reject his words as he smiled and nodded.
"If ya think so, what do ya want to do, then? We gotta eat, ya know?" Archie asked.
He nodded, "Yeah. I think we should block off the cave entrance–at least block out the light of the fire."
"Alrighty, then," Archie said.
While Archie tended to the cooking of the deer, he strayed out beyond the cave to find so workable twigs and leaves to make a natural curtain for their temporary abode.
"...No good."
The leaves he found around the imdiate area were either drenched in mud or crumbled up.
He didn't realize it until he had stepped out, but it was raining; from the clouds above, a gentle rainfall cascaded down the verdant towers of the forest, leaving the soil turned to mud as he ventured a bit farther in search of materials.
Guess I should be glad we found firewood before it started raining, he thought.
After walking perhaps one-hundred yards, he found a tree wrapped in tough, flexible vines–exactly what he was looking for.
Perfect, he thought.
He used one of his daggers to cut away the li-green vines, gathering them into a bundle similar to rope. There were quite a number of unknown insects crawling around the orange-bark tree, but he ignored them and got the material he needed.
Alright…should be enough, he thought.
Just as he began to turn back to return to the cave–his left leg didn't move.
"--Huh?" He glanced down.
There was a bundle of intertwined vines wrapped around his ankle, gripping tightly as he tugged a few tis, but was unable to budge it.
What is this? So sort of self-defense chanism of a plant? He guessed.
It was incredibly strong–it squeezed around his leg, making it impossible for him to lift his left boot though he tugged at it. Even summoning the amplified strength he had, it only bought him a few more centiters or movent.
…What the hell are they feeding these plants?! He questioned.
Though he soon realized this wasn't the work of so sentience-lacking plantlife, but sothing else as his instincts flared up like an alarm system blaring out.
Sothing's coming! He realized.
In the darkness of the night, his vision wasn't hindered as his assassin-class proficiency provided him inherent sight in the darkness, so once he glanced back–he saw it: it was a humanoid female, but definitely not human by any ans.
The woman seed to be made out of a mixture of tree bark and flowers; her flowing locks were that of blossoming flower petals. Each step she took seed to bring life to the soil beneath, spurring life into the dirt as flowers blood and awakened.
[BOSS Enemy Identified: "Nightfall Dryad" | Level 30]
What the…? A 'Dryad'? He realized.
For so reason, the System recognized his thoughts as a true question, bringing an answer to him:
[Dryads are guardians of nature; they're in tune with forest; sentinels of nature and the embodint of the world's bloom. They are usually friendly towards humans, but it seems cutting apart the plant life has angered the dryad of this forest.]
"...All I did was take so vines and you want blood? That's a bit much!" He said.
As it slowly walked towards him, he acted quickly, gripping his daggers and cutting the vines that had bound his leg, breaking free and jumping away just as a spike of sharpened tree hide protruded from the dirt.
While in the air, he looked down at the pillar of lethal bark below him, witnessing just how close he ca from being impaled on it.
…This is the embodint of nature? I thought nature was supposed to be more gentle! He thought.
As soon as he landed back down on the soil, he was imdiately forced to flip around as more protrusions of bark jutted up from the ground, aiming to skewer him.
Still, the dryad herself had yet to actually launch an assault of her own, still slowly walking towards him in an ominous, but tranquil fashion.
There was sothing about the dryad that made him feel uneasy in a sense that was separate from fear or dread; in the advent of a life-or-death battle, his blood should be pumping and his senses should be at their peak.
All of the rciless bloodlust that he should be experiencing when facing an enemy was suppressed–flipped around as his instincts were silent.
I feel…calm? Happy? This isn't right–it feels wrong! He realized.
This inexplicable spectrum of emotions caused him to slap his cheeks, reeling in his focus just in ti to evade a bundle of roots protruding from the soil, attempting to bind him. He flipped back, putting so distance between him and the dryad as he kept his black-steel daggers raised.
What was that? My focus was completely dulled–I felt like I was as calm as could be, but in a bad way–my body wasn't on guard, he thought.
As he stood there, trying to figure out what was tinkering with his mind, he realized there was a sweet aroma that t his nose; a nectar-like scent.
Honey? Wait…He thought.
Glancing around, he realized there was a golden dust that exuded from the yellow flowers born on the dryad's body of nature elents.
Pollen? Is that what's causing this? He questioned.
Realizing this, he brought his scarf over his mouth and nose, staying wary of the particles that danced in the nightly air, keeping his eyes on the silent, but nearing dryad.
Should I attack? I don't know how it'll respond–so far it's just used vines and those tree lances. Maybe it's trying to keep away? If that's the case…then a swift assault is my path to victory, he thought.
Though it was easier said than done, as the very mont he thought to take a step, he was forced back as a row of bark-forged lances sprouted from the soil, nearly impaling him.
Fast! He thought.
It wasn't as if the pikes were raised with just the intent of driving him back or creating space, but the intensity at which they rose spoke of the killing intent behind them.
The entire ti he dodged the nature-ford lances, he could see the dryad simply standing still like a planted cedar itself, watching him with its eyes that lacked ocular organs, but in place were flowers, sprouting from its eye sockets.
…This is annoying! He thought.
There wasn't much of a risk posed to him with this kind of attack–it was predictable to his seasoned mind and his reflexes were quick enough to allow him to safely evade even if he didn't predict where they sprouted from.
Still, the endless nature at which they seed to co was a different problem entirely.
Is it trying to wear down?...Enough, then. I'm going to flip this fight around–I'm taking the offensive! He decided.
As he flipped around one of the pikes, he used another as a foothold before bolting forward, closing the distance swiftly.
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