I gathered branches, fumbling with damp wood. Sparks hissed out before they could catch.
I could feel the regret building up in my sternum from wasting the phone in the earlier fire.
It was cold enough to imagine what warmth felt like. My breath clashed against it, pursing out echoes of hot air clouds in front of my mouth.
I spent the rest of the night counting stars, my mind drifting in and out of consciousness until my gaze settled on one in particular.
It sat within the deep blue of the sky, a familiar twinkle shifting under its surface. It felt like it was inviting me, asking me to join it in its dance among the night sky.
It looked so at peace, the stars around it started to drift away from it, slowly encapsulating my entire mind.
A faint pulse of warmth crept into my chest.
At first, I thought I was just succumbing to the cold, but as more time passed, I felt more and more awake.
It was as if the star fed my soul. I felt each part of my body recover from the cold air, limb by limb.
I glanced back up at the sky, trying to thank the star, but I only got twinkles in response.
Thank you.
The sun soon rose over the horizon, and I noticed that the night sky never shifted, not once.
That means wherever I was, the world operated differently than I was used to.
I felt the touch of sunlight on my skin and watched as the frost along the ground retreated into the ground.
Morning dew raced along the treebed, and clouds of mist hung like webs of water.
I stood from my resting position, tired but also full of energy. Whatever that star did, I felt the effects of it immediately.
My vision felt sharper, I could pick out details far beyond what I'd seen before.
The air was cleaner somehow, every sound crisper, every movement easier to follow.
I turned to look for the obelisk once more, only to find that it was gone.
There wasn't even a trace of misplaced grass or stone. It was like it never existed.
I felt my pulse slowly start to rise. Was everything last night a dream? I looked up one last time, searching for the star's light, hoping for an answer that didn't come.
I stayed near the coast that first day, gathering the delectable dishes of poisonous berries and mushrooms until I had a clear picture of what was tolerable and what wasn't.
Days started to blur together as my routine started to pick up.
Forage, fend off foxbats, hide.
The rhythm of surviving in a place that didn't want me alive.
Every night, I found myself staring at the same star.
The one that saved me from the cold. I started to look for it out of habit ever since that first night. If there was one thing I learned, it was to count your blessings when you can.
And tonight, it gave me something new.
A faint tingle at the back of my head.
Whenever something moved nearby, my thoughts would shift before my body did, like I could feel the motion.
There was no sound, no telling sight, just pure awareness. Like how my mom was when she was alive.
My routine started to change. My mom vision helped me. I could feel where to avoid, how to go about collecting the berries, and I had finally stabilized myself within an area.
Alas, all good things end.
It was about mid day when I felt it, the subtle pull in the back of my head, by now I was relatively used to it.
I slowly played with the feeling in my head, watching the pine needles crunch under the feet of whatever was over there.
As if mocking my ease, I felt as more and more things entered my perception.
The feeling scratching my brain spiked, burning at the back of my skull.
I swiveled my head, my mind locking onto the feeling.
What I saw made my throat go dry.
Antlers of bone pierced through the mist, branching outward like a feral crown. Golden hair swayed around its neck like a lion's mane, but it was no lion.
Its body towered over me, massive and radiant.
I wasn't standing before a mere beast.
No, I was standing before a king.
I quickly shifted my body into a sprint, chugging my legs along the ground at speeds I've never moved before.
I was fast.
The excitement was short-lived as I heard the snapping of branches from behind me. I felt it, each step it took, each tree it brushed past. It was closing in fast.
I started weaving the trees around me, swinging around them like poles. My palms started to burn, fresh splinters lining my skin, but I pushed through it.
It was then that I noticed something, the beast was putting more pressure on the left side of its body compared to its right side. Strange, was it injured?
I kept weaving around, testing out my hypothesis, and sure enough, I felt a stumble on the ground, imperceptible if I didn't have mom vision.
I quickly came up with a plan, it was dumb, there was no reason to engage it, but for some reason, I felt like I was living, really living right now.
I twisted my body, diving around a tree and spinning to keep the bushes from snagging on my clothes. I quickly got up, moving back into a new formation. I was baiting it. Trying to make it think I was out of energy.
If I could get it to lower its guard for just a second, I could dive into its front left leg, giving myself a moment to try and cause more damage to its legs.
I felt the world around me slow down, the sound of my heart pounding in my ear. I felt it, the perfect moment.
The stag staggered, its right leg landing weirdly. I poured every ounce of my mind into hitting its leg, spinning on my heels, and diving towards it like a bullet.
It was now that I noticed just how small I was compared to the world around me. Beasts the size of buses walked around me, flew in the sky. They controlled the world around me, and I didn't like it.
I wanted to be the one in control. The one who gets to fly in the sky, the one who gets to decide who lives and dies. I wanted to be at the top.
The stag's leg, the one I had just dove headfirst into, started to bend under the pressure. I watched as the colossal beast fell, its eyes staring at me with unkept rage and alarm. But I was a step ahead this time.
I was back, back to where my home base was. I quickly prepped the small foraging handaxe I had made and swung.
I felt it, the weakest point, the spot where it was relying the most. The connecting joint between its left leg.
I swung again, and again, digging the blunt head of my axe into his mangled joint. Blood splattered and spayed my body, but I couldn't care about that. I let all my thoughts fade away.
Just Swing.
Soon, I felt it, a sharp rip in its leg. I glanced around the wound, watching the pool of blood drip down from my hands. There was no movement in the leg.
I glanced at the face of the spazzing stag. I almost felt pity, but it was soon drowned out by the euphoric feeling in my chest.
I sat, watching the animal who once towered over me now try and fail to stand.
Idling now would allow it time to recover. I ran over to the vines I had collected, intertwining the stag's horns around the trees, locking them in place. Then, I prepared the final plot. A quick, final death. I found a stick that I had sharpened with my handaxe, and made my way back to the beast's pitiful form.
I stared into its eyes, its gaze almost sad, I felt its emotions, scared, anxiousness, grief, anger, but at the center was pure contentment. It was truly a beast, content even in death.
Thoughtlessly, I drove the sharpened stick through its eye and into its brain. My body stayed tense until I felt its final heartbeat falter beneath the press of my mind. It was dead.