A New Home

Life, Relocation

Fenneck settles into his new home in the mountains.

Fenneck finally pulled himself off of the bumblebear and looked around the cave weakly. He looked down at the poor animal and fear overwhelmed him. What now? His magical lights had disappeared at this point and he waved his hands again to bring them back. He looked around the cave. It was a pretty good sized cave. The mouth was hidden enough from the brunt of the wind and snow and the cave itself was big enough to provide a decent living space. He could easily see the back of the cave which made him feel better knowing there wasn't a creepy monster living in the shadows. He walked around a bit before setting his stuff down and building a fire pit in the center of the room. He found some old bones lying around and he decided he should risk a trip back into the forest for some more wood soon. He had managed to grab a few logs from his fireplace at home but he knew they wouldn't last long. Once he had a decent fire going he walked back over to the bear and drew one of his daggers from his pack. He knew he should get resourceful if he was going to survive, but he wasn't quite sure what he was surviving for. He'd lost everything in a matter of a few hours. He couldn't go back. He might be able to make it to Vladigrad but the KAV could still find him. He could try to make it into Thymryu but he had no idea what the border security there was like or how dangerous it would be. He decided to wait here until he could form a better plan. Luckily, Naertho had taught Fenneck how to tan leather for use in the shop. Fenneck had never skinned a dead animal, though. He hated seeing dead creatures and it made him sick to his stomach as he ripped a gash across the bear's pelt, which was much tougher to cut through than he had anticipated. He dropped his dagger as blood and guts spilled out from the beast, reminding him of his parents' dead, mangled bodies and he ran out of the cave and threw up into the snow. He wasn't meant for this. He was a tailor, not a hunter. He sat down and took deep breaths in the cold wind, trying to regain his composure. He looked out into the cold mountains around him. The sky was mostly gray and dark as clouds covered the peaks of the giant rocks and snow fell through the air around him. Winter was coming. He had to figure this out. He had to adjust or he would surely die up here. He swallowed and went back to the dead bear on the ground and forced himself to skin the beast. He cut off chunks of meat and brought a pile of snow into a corner of the cave that he buried it in so it would stay cold. He pulled out the bones and made a pile next to the fire to use as meager fuel, as well as any other parts of the creature he couldn't think of a use for. He then grabbed some more snow and a cloth to try and wash the blood off of the skin. He worked hard and he was grateful for the distraction from his grief. Occasionally he would have to stop and crawl into a corner and cry for a bit before forcing himself to return to the task at hand. As the days passed and Fenneck adjusted to his new way of life and he found that he rather enjoyed surviving. It was hard and painful at times but it was somewhat peaceful. It didn't give him time to dwell on his emotions. He was able to make a comfortable bed with blankets he'd brought and the bumblebear fur next to the fire place. He'd even gone into the forest and loaded up as many sticks and logs as he could find and carry back and he was able to hunt a few rabbits and foxes in the mountains. He hated killing the poor creatures but he needed food and their warm furs. He would roast meat over the fire and he rationed the small helping of bread and vegetables he'd been able to pack from home but they didn't last long. He tried to forage in the forest but the trees were all but dead and the underbrush was hidden in the snow. He took to hunting with his bow most of the time and quickly honed his skills as he encountered dangerous beasts and creatures in the mountains. He also started experimenting with magic and eventually he was able to heal his wounds like he'd seen Erikur and his mother do and some other simple spells to help him survive up here. A couple years passed with this same routine. He had tried to mark the passing days but eventually it all became a blur and Fenneck wasn't sure just how much time had passed. He often thought about Erikur and Naertho, hoping and praying they hadn't also lost their lives because of Fenneck's foolishness.