Crazy as it seemed, Lican was still breathing. He looked down at his bloodied hands. There was no panic in his eyes, only a strange calmness.
Outside the cave, the rain continued to hammer against the earth as though nothing had happened, as though a death had not just taken place inside the mountain. Lican slowly turned his gaze toward the cave entrance. Beyond it, the dark sky stretched endlessly above him.
He looked up at the heavens without blinking. For a moment, he simply stared, almost as if he were mocking them.
Then—
Grrr...
Lican lowered his head as his stomach growled loudly. He placed a palm over it and gently rubbed his belly before looking toward the snake lying motionless on the cave floor. A small grin appeared on his face, but it quickly faded as he stared at the massive creature.
"I don't even know how to prepare a snake."
A laugh escaped him, but then he remembered his father. He remembered the times his father would make jerky for his long journeys, even though they had a cook who could have prepared the food for him.
His father's voice suddenly returned to his mind.
You can lose a leg and survive... but don't lose your water and food on a journey.
Lican sighed. For some reason, the memory brought warmth to his chest. He looked at the dead snake again, and now he understood what his father had meant.
But understanding wasn't enough. Lican still had to move.
He walked toward the snake and sized it up. He had no knife or sharp tool, nothing he could use to cut through its thick hide. His jade pin had a sharp tip, but it was far too small for a job like this.
Still, Lican didn't give up. He walked toward the cave entrance and stared out at the forest, his eyes roaming across the landscape in search of anything useful.
The rain was still pouring heavily. As soon as he stepped outside, the cold water soaked his ragged clothes, washing the dirt and blood from his skin. Lican walked around the cave for a while, passing between the trees until he heard the sound of moving water.
He changed direction and followed the noise. As he drew closer, the sound grew louder, until he eventually reached a fast-flowing stream.
His expression softened slightly. At least there was water.
Lican walked toward the bank and stared at the rushing current before shifting his gaze to the rocks scattered along its edge. Suddenly, his eyes brightened as a memory flashed through his mind. He remembered a broken rock from the past, its sharp edge having once cut him.
He slowly crouched beside the rocks and picked one up, tracing its jagged edge with his fingers. A small smile appeared on his face.
"Maybe..."
He picked up a fairly large rock and struck it against a smooth black stone.
Bang!
Crack!
The impact echoed beside the rushing stream. Lican dropped the larger rock and crouched down to examine the broken pieces. Carefully, he traced their edges with his finger, searching for one sharp enough to cut and slice.
After inspecting the pieces, he finally found what he needed. He picked it up and washed it thoroughly in the stream, rubbing away the dirt and every particle clinging to its surface.
Once satisfied, Lican stood and began walking back toward the cave. Along the way, he stopped to cut several large leaves from the surrounding plants, then quickened his pace. The sky was already beginning to darken, and soon the night would cover the forest completely.
As he moved, Lican continued searching for dense canopies where the rain couldn't reach the ground. After finding one, he searched beneath the thick cover and discovered a reasonable amount of dry wood and small twigs. He gathered as much as he could carry, then carefully wrapped the wood and twigs in the large leaves he had collected, protecting them from the remaining rain.
With the bundle secured, Lican turned toward the cave. Night was coming, and he still had a dead snake waiting for him.
As soon as he returned, Lican set about making a fire. He gathered the twigs and withered materials he had found inside the cave, arranged them carefully, and worked to produce a flame.
Making a fire wasn't particularly difficult for him. Over the years, he had read many books and fictional stories, most of them brought home by his father. Though much of what he had learned came from pages rather than experience, he had always remembered the things that seemed useful.
Soon, a small fire began to crackle inside the cave.
Lican turned his attention toward the dead snake. He crouched beside its enormous body and picked up the sharp piece of rock he had made earlier. For a moment, he simply stared at the creature before beginning to skin it.
Clumsily.
His movements were slow and awkward, and more than once, he had to stop and figure out what to do next. The sharp stone wasn't exactly a knife, and the snake's thick hide made the task even harder.
Still, Lican didn't give up. If his father had taught him anything, it was that having the means to survive meant little if he wasn't willing to use them.
The surroundings were serene, but the smoke permeating the air gave the place a different feeling.
Lican sat quietly, eating slowly as he stared blankly toward the entrance of the darkened cave. The fire he had used to roast the snake was the only thing warming him.
The struggle had ended thirty minutes earlier. Some meat still remained on the stick he had used to roast it. He stared at the leftovers for a moment, wondering what to do with them, before simply leaving them where they were.
He patted his belly, satisfied, and for a moment, a faint sense of pride appeared in his eyes.
Then it faded.
His expression became blank again.
He stood and walked toward the cave entrance. Beyond it, the wilderness stretched beneath the night, filled with the distant wails and roars of prey and predator.
He knew that from now on, he had only two choices.
He would either become the prey or the predator.
"I chose the latter," he said, his face remaining blank.
Then he re-entered the cave without another thought.