As the bird soared away into the horizon, disappearing from view, a certain prey, thought to be lifeless, stirred from her sleep, roused by the pangs of hunger. And oh, what a delightful scene awaited her upon waking!
My stomach rumbled with a fierce urgency, clearly unhappy with my decision to skip breakfast—a habit my body had grown quite attached to. As I blinked awake, I anticipated the cozy embrace of my bed, but the hard surface beneath suggested I might have taken an unexpected tumble.
A wave of confusion washed over as I took in my surroundings. It took a mont for my brain to catch up, but then a rush of recent mories flooded back. No way! I glanced around again, not spotting the massive bird but noticing a nest nearby, and everything clicked. I was supposed to be a snack for those little eggs, but sohow, I had been mistaken for a lifeless object. Thank goodness I had been out cold—who knows what that bird might have done otherwise!
My eyes landed on the ten eggs surrounding , each as large as an ostrich egg, their smooth white shells looking absolutely tempting. The cave was small, with deep claw marks etched into the walls, a clear sign of the bird’s impressive strength and sharp talons.
This cave had been crafted by the bird’s powerful claws, and the thought was both awe-inspiring and a bit terrifying. A fine layer of sand surrounded the eggs, perfect for cooking, but the uncertainty of how long the bird had been gone and how long I had been out was unsettling. Peering outside, I noticed rocks that looked like rough-hewn stairs, suggesting I wasn’t the first to stumble upon this place.
What a relief! Below, a dense forest stretched out, with a small village visible in the distance. If I could make my way there, I might find safety. The idea of navigating through the woods after my earlier encounter with the spider was daunting, but if push ca to shove, I could always toss a few eggs to distract any pursuers. With my mind made up, I felt ready to dive into my next adventure.
I was in a bit of a ti crunch and cooking was definitely not on my agenda, but there was no way I could just leave all that scrumptious food behind. So, I shrugged off my jacket and carefully cradled the eggs, one by one, checking their sturdiness. Satisfied, I tucked them into my jacket along with a bit of sand, zipped it up, and fashioned it into a makeshift sack. With a little adjustnt, I slung it over my back and secured it around my arms. It sat there quite comfortably, and I stepped out of the nest, planting my feet firmly on the rugged rocks beneath .
The wind whipped against my side, catching off guard and making my feet wobble a bit. I crouched down, grounding myself against the cliffside as the gust finally passed. Peering down, I was taken aback by the ground swaying far below—wow, I was perched four tis higher than the tallest tree around!
I crouched lower and shuffled to the edge of the step. It was clearly designed for soone much larger than a human woman. Am I even human anymore? Not the ti for existential musings, though. I’d save that for when I reached a safer spot or after this shift everyone keeps buzzing about. Then I could ponder my identity and transformation. Right now, I needed to focus.
Carefully, I turned and embraced the massive stone stair that seed to be made for giants. I gripped the edge and lowered myself down, trying to balance caution with urgency. My heart was pounding in my ears because I knew that the wrong movent could cause to fall to my death and I couldn’t see where I was going while backing up.
Once seated on that stair, I took a mont to pop an anxiety pill. I was trying to save them for ergencies, but feeling off wasn’t going to help if I passed out and beca a snack for the bird when it returned. After a few more steps, my breathing beca labored, and I had to pause to use my inhaler. I took two puffs, held it for a mont, and then coughed up the fluid that was threatening to settle in my lungs.
I had a choice: keep pushing forward or just give up. I stretched my back and neck, feeling the satisfying pops, but a groan of frustration slipped out as exhaustion washed over . I pressed on, taking five more steps when suddenly my leg gave way. In a desperate attempt to catch myself, I ended up slicing my leg and hand, blood spraying onto the rocks like a grueso art piece. My head spun at the sight, but thankfully, I had already taken my anxiety ds. I inhaled deeply, trying to regain my composure, but the tallic scent of my own blood startled into feeling woozy. I really couldn’t stand the sight or scent of blood, which is why my ergency backpack is packed with all sorts of first aid supplies. Plus, I have a bit of a germ phobia and prefer to keep my personal space intact. I know I co off as a bit quirky, but I partially bla that on my lack of socialization growing up. Or maybe I’ve just long embraced my inner weirdo!
I took a mont on the rock, gathering my thoughts as I looked down at my long green shirt from a life that felt like a distant mory. It was more than just fabric; it was a cherished reminder of a world I could never revisit. I faced a choice: protect it or let despair take over. I wasn’t about to give in, even if it ant sacrificing my favorite shirt. I kicked myself for running off and for leaving my backpack behind. With a determined squint, I inhaled deeply and winced as I tore a strip from the hem of my beloved cap-sleeved shirt. The sound of the fabric ripping was almost unbearable, and a small sob slipped out. But I pressed on, ripping off two more strips. I pulled out an alcohol wipe, cleaned my wounds, and quickly wrapped them up, even using a strip around my uninjured hand for a better grip and to prevent any further cuts.
With another frustrated groan, I pushed myself to keep moving. Halfway down, I questioned whether I could make it the rest of the way without a break and what the odds were of being found in the anti.
The thought of that terrifying bird appearing while I slept spurred on. I was dizzy with exhaustion and hunger, just wanting this day to end. Scratch after scratch, slip after slip, I managed to travel down, getting little pebbles digging into my skin and turning my nails into ripped bloody bits. My whole body hurt, everything hurt including my hair follicles. I was so done with this! I never wanted to see another cliff for as long as I lived!
Finally, I reached the bottom of the cliff, covered in cuts and more exhausted than I could ever rember. I surveyed the woods surrounding and let out another groan. I had seen it from the cliff, but seeing it up close was a whole different story.
After everything that happened, I simply couldn’t stick around all day waiting for that bird to co back and finish off. So, I made my way toward the woods, where I stumbled upon two hefty sticks. One was perfect for a walking stick, while the other needed a little makeover. I removed the cloth from my uninjured hand and wrapped it around the end of that stick. Then, I tucked an alcohol wipe inside and pulled out my beloved lighter, igniting the end. Voilà! I had a torch to guide through the woods. I an, animals usually shy away from fire, right? Maybe the ones lurking around here would too.
As I ventured deeper into the woods, I aid for the direction of the village—at least, I hoped I was on the right track. The air grew colder, and darkness began to creep in. My senses heightened, and I could have sworn I spotted glowing eyes watching from the shadows.
Coming Next Ti: Camping Alone in an Otherworldly Forest
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