Wilson could feel the arctic wind cutting through his thin collared shirt, numbing him to the bone. As he trudged through the leaf adorned forest, he alarmingly discovered that his tips of his fingertips were starting to numb. He would have been overwhelmed with panic if he wasn't so damn tired. The only thing he could think about is sleep, the most reasonable response was to quickly build a fire before it gets worse. Using his frost-bitten fingers he quickly set up a small fire made up of his spare inventory. In a couple of minutes, to Wilson's great relief, his hands were starting to feel tangible again. He pulled close to the fire as a strong wind blew by, threatening the fire for a second, before the rush of oxygen made it rise back up. With the fire safely deployed and the inevitability of night, Wilson's eyes felt heavy, whether he would awake or not he didn't know.
Wilson awoke from the stinging smell of smoke. Wilson stood up, bright daylight overhead. He doesn't know how long he lay there paralyzed, but pure instinct filled him with an urgency to escape the forest, and get back to the base camp inside the safety of the deciduous forest. He cursed himself for falling asleep at night, how stupid could he be! Half the day is already gone, and leaving a fire and himself in the open, stupid! His base camp was far from here, and without any more food or supplies for fire, he would die quickly. Wilson started hurrying off, the small forest fire was in no danger of killing him, but half the day was gone, there was no telling what the night had planned.
Wendy felt herself sinking, deeper, and the deeper she got, the more evident it became she was going to freeze long before she drowned. The surface was so far away, she knew there the inevitable fate that awaited all has come.
Wendy's eyes fluttered open, the sky was brimming with dismal apocalyptic clouds, indicating rain. She sat up in her straw roll, stifling a yawn, her eyes scanned the horizon in search of the cause of the potent smell. Her eyes bulged as she saw a huge column of smoke rising from the forest. She grabbed her firefly lantern and Abigail's flower as she started to scramble down the path leading to the forest. She'd never been down this way, she was very afraid of the wolves that may or may not be there. It was very clear what she needed though, Wendy needed her dead sister to survive.
As Wendy ambled down the path, getting closer to the forest, she notices something about this strange new place, the biomes had distinct borders, and she had reached the border of the field and a deciduous forest. So much life bristled about in the beautiful colored birch forest, to the point where it was almost painful. She walked through the colorful forest, getting further from the fire behind her. She cautiously approached the camp. There was a fur roll, inside a small tent an ice box, a chest filled with materials, and a fire pit, all looked hand crafted. She eyed the ice box, preserving something, most likely food. Wendy inched towards the ice box, she felt a small twinge of guilt, before she reached inside for the content inside. Food.
Wilson, on his last torch, started to hurry back to camp, the day had already died, A very rational fear had already taken place, if memory served, he was attacked by a ferocious monster on his first night. The thought of the powerful monster coming back made him quicken his pace. The nights were getting longer and longer, and the trees around him had turned to reds and golds, a warning of winter.
The camp finally came in sight, after all that walking in the darkness, Wilson couldn't help but feel the tension in his shoulders relax. It was a great alleviation to be back home, if this small pit with a couple of chests could be considered a home. He opened the ice box, the invention he had spurred up to help preserve some of his food, only to find it had been raided, half the berries he had were eaten, most of the cooked vegetables he had were gone, the only food left untouched was the meats. Anger and fear swept through him, what had taken his food? The food that he had slaved over to grow, the food he had swept through the forest to find, what had an intelligence high enough to even check? It had to be some sort of entity smart enough to realize there was food inside this small box, and something that to realize monster meat was dangerous, judging from all the meat it had left in there. How would he prevent this from happening again? Something to catch the culprit when they came close, something like a trap. Wilson had an idea.
Wendy's stomach hadn't felt so satisfied since she first came here, which is to say, she had only been here for barely two days. Her stomach was no longer starving, and her mentality was much better after eating her stolen goods. Wendy was still wondering who lived there, obviously a human or some equivalent of it. As much as Wendy wasn't a people person, it didn't stop the loneliness that filled her over her sister's death. It would be nice to go back home, with Abigail. Where food and shelter was guaranteed. She never realized the beauty of never fearing for her life, the idea of being able to feel safe. She cut that thought away, it wouldn't help her physically or mentally to dwell. She decided to focus on the entity who had built the fireplace near the woods. Wendy pulled her firefly lantern close to her, she was extremely lucky to find such a glorious tool next to a skeleton. Wendy, with her firefly lantern, hugged it tightly as to make sure whatever demon's presence she felt wouldn't come back
The morning came slowly, with her head full of thought, and a mentality full of fear. Wendy stood up from her sitting position by the lantern, her legs wobbled, she was utterly exhausted grabbed her supplies up in her arms, and with a bloodied flower, it's formerly white petals stained a permanent pink. Wendy decided to walk back to investigate the camp, her mind filled with a burning curiosity of what lurked there. By the time the camp was in visible distance, Wendy already had a sufficient amount of flowers to form another flower crown. She quietly sneaked over to the camp, wanting to know if someone was there, before were they were alerted. She noticed while walking over that there was an assortment of tooth traps staked to the ground, getting caught in one of those would hurt as much as getting a bite from a creature with deadly sharp teeth, and a strong jaw. As she got closer she saw a form inside a fur roll, slowly moving up and down
The world stopped, Wendy's felt her pulse quicken and breathing hasten, right there was another human, sleeping at dawn near a dead fire pit, her grip on the lantern tightened. She didn't normally care for others, her own surprise shocked her, but there it was an unbelievable relief to know there were be other humans here. She took a step back. She wasn't ready, she honestly didn't know what she expected, she had to gain back her senses from shock. She had to summon Abigail again, her dear sister, and her only means of defense, there was no way to know if this human was hostile, until it was too late. She took another step back, only to find the world collapsing before her, she landed on the ground, one arm outstretched, landing right in one of the many traps surrounding the camp. The trap, decorated with carnivorous teeth, mercilessly clamped over her arm, a small pool of blood started to form. She screamed.
Wilson snapped awake to the sound of an inhuman scream, the sound of the entity from earlier. Wilson began to feel fear, crawling through his heart. He stayed immobilized in his furry sleeping bag, back to the sound, he had either succeeded in his attempts, or he had pissed off a monster of untold intelligence. He opened his eyes and slowly turned over in his bag. He was welcomed to the sight of a young girl, a human, caught in one of his traps. His eyes widened, a human. Guilt and relief flooded his mind. He had hurt this girl, who couldn't be more than thirteen, she was in untold pain. She was the first human he had seen here, for an entire cycle of the moon.
Snapping from his thoughts, he quickly stood up and ran over to her as fast as he could. The girl's sobbing had started to wear down there was so much food scattered around her, food that looked exactly like the food he had stolen from him. He didn't care though, not anymore. Wilson tried to hurry to her as fast as he could with all the traps scattered about.
He took out a small makeshift knife out of flint, and tread carefully towards her, he didn't want to scare her, he moved it very slowly while approaching her. As Wilson was barely a yard away from her, he spoke in what he hoped was a non-threatening voice, "I-I just want to help." He took another step closer, he could see her visibly stiffen, she seemed unaffected by his words
The sun was high in the sky, there was plenty of time before any of the serious monsters came out, however, he needed to clean the wound very soon, there was a high chance of infection, and an even higher chance that wolves have already smelled her blood. Wilson took a final step, where he crouched down and moved his knife closer to her arm, then shifted the knife downwards to start sawing through the rope holding the trap together. It came apart with a pitiful clank, releasing her arm. The girl immediately pulled her injured arm back and cradled it to her chest, getting blood all over her white shirt. He wondered how long she had been here, her clothes looked new, with the exceptions of a few stains and the newfound blood. She lifted her head to look at him, before speaking in a cold voice, that did not match her stuffed up nose and wet red face.
"I-if I may, I want to stay here" Her eyes weren't looking at Wilson, but instead looking at the camp he had made for himself. Wilson didn't know how to respond,
Wilson pulled the last few healing salves from his small chest, along with some spider webbing. he hoped it would be enough to stop any infection from the trap, the last thing he wanted was for her to die because of him. He felt guilt weighing him down, he didn't know what he would do with the girl once she recovered, but for now, she was staying with him. He quickly pulled the medical aid and hurried back to the blonde little girl.
"May I see your arm miss?" He noticed his voice was very quiet, most likely from lack of use.
The girl gingerly pulled her bloodied arm away from it's resting place, without another word. She looked at Wilson with an unreadable expression. He knelt down to eye level and slathered the wound with the healing salves he had made. The sight of blood didn't bother him, but the amount she'd loss would make her dizzy, in other words, it would be harder to run away in a dire case.
"You can stay until you're healed," the girl's eyes widened at this "There's going to be lots of predators judging from all the blood you've spilled here, a-and I don't want you alone out there" Wilson knew the true reason he wanted her here was because he didn't want to be alone. He took out the webbing to use as makeshift bandages. He stopped for a second, before adding "What is your name miss?" he was uncertain of what else he should say, although he was almost finished wrapping up the wound.
The girl moved her head the slightest fraction, "Wendy."
Wilson looked up from the freshly bandaged wound, "It's very nice to meet you Wendy, I'm Wilson, Wilson Perceival Higgsbury."
The day had just begun for Wilson, and with his new, slightly injured human companion, and there were many complications starting to arise.
The cold autumn breeze gusted by, inviting an unwanted thought that this horrible island had a winter. Wilson wasn't sure what to do, on one hand his food supply hadn't lasted him nearly as long as he hoped, thanks to his new friend. However, if he leave the deciduous forest to the plains for more rabbit meat, there was no telling when he would be back, leaving Wendy alone.
He really really did not want to go surviving by himself again.
Wilson didn't want to leave anything to chance, not with another life. It was probably for the best he collect firewood and the edible seeds from the birch trees nearby the camp. Pulling out a flimsy axe from his back pocket, he cautiously approached one of the larger birch trees in the area. It's bright orange tufts only a servant to the wind. Wilson started to cut it down.
After hours of mercilessly chopping, the tree finally toppled. Wilson heaved a sigh of exhaustion, his hands were swollen with blisters, and his arms were aching beyond belief, and there was still the need to divide the thick trunk into sections. He'll never get used to this kind of manual labor.
Cutting down the tree was only the beginning of his problems, as Wilson began to divide the birch trunk into sections, he heard a muffled noise in the distance, too far to understand what it could be. There wasn't any imminent danger to be seen, it could be his mind playing tricks on him for all he knew. Paranoia wouldn't help him any, Wilson pushed the strange noises to the back of his mind, whatever it was, it was far away.
Daylight had become evening, Wilson had almost finished dividing the logs, when the noises were replaced by a lonely howl. His blood froze, clarity speaking to his mind. There were wolves on this island, and they were getting closer.
Wilson was in no shape to run, much less fight off the wolves and neither was the little girl Wendy.
Wendy.
His heart froze, a small injured girl with the scent of blood on her, wolves, death. His camp. They would destroy his camp, and the girl, forcing him to start over. He needed to get back immediately, before the night forced him to stay away. Wilson grabbed his backpack and started to walk back at a brisk pace
Another intruding thought stabbed him. Does she have a source of light for the night? Wilson started walking faster.
By the time Wilson could see the camp in the distance, the barks of mad beasts was getting alarmingly closer. Wilson was sprinting at this point, he was quick getting back despite the hunger and exhaustion he felt.
The feeling of dread that he would not make it in time dissipated when he saw that Wendy was awake and tending to a small fire.
"It's good to see you up and about Wendy." Wilson remarked, a friendly smile on his tired face. He noticed that her wound didn't look as bad as before. She seemed to have redid the poor excuse of a bandaging that he had done before, and cleaned all the blood that had been leaking around her wound.
Wendy didn't look up at him, "You hear the wolves don't you?" Her eyes continued to remain fixated on the fire
"Yes... they are getting closer." Wilson took a breath, he wasn't sure if he should ask for her help, but turned that thought away as her injuries prevented any help.
Wendy narrowed her eyes, "Yes, that's obvious. What I want to know is what you are going to do." her gaze had shifted from the flame to Wilson, waiting to hear what he would say next."
He was taken aback by her snarky tone. It must have shown on his face because Wendy's face softened a bit.
Wilson tried to regain his composure, "Well, I'm going to... distract the wolves."
Wendy's gaze hardened, "You plan to distract them? With a stick? Play fetch? I hate to break it to you but that's not going to work, surely you've planned ahead to this point"
Wilson huffed, he did not plan on getting sassed around by Wendy in the last few minutes of his life. He did have a plan, but he knew it would not lead to the best of outcomes.
"Wendy, I do have a plan. It's as I said, I'm going to distract the wolves over to the tallbirds' nests, while you strategically place yourself inside the berry bush patch I've planted nearby."
Wendy's face stiffened, a mixture of relief and anger flashing across her face. Before she could organize her thoughts, Wilson quickly ushered her over to the safety of the berry bushes. Wilson was starting to look a bit frantic, as his movements became quick and sudden, as he shoved something hefty into her arms.
Wilson ran as fast as he could away from Wendy, he really did worry for her, despite only knowing her for a day. Being isolated from humanity, besides Maxwell, did not sit well with him.
The snarling was getting closer, fear was beginning to ravage Wilson's fragile psyche. He was not anywhere near being athletic or strong, he was a stringy science man. The thought of the huge pack of wolves began to scare him, it helped fuel his already tiring legs.
In the distance, Wilson saw the tallbirds sleeping in their nests located around a pile of rocks. Wilson skidded to a stop, if he awoke one tallbird, the rest would awaken and peck him to death. He crept on his toes around and hid in the rocks, and waited to see if his plan would work
There was a loud bark, it felt as if it was next to his ear. There was a loud shriek that filled the air. Wilson glanced over a rock, the whole pack of hounds he had imagined had only amounted to two. The tallbirds started shrieking and began their bloody assault on the wolves. That was when Wilson noticed the contents of the nests the birds had been guarding.
Eggs.
If he could grab all those eggs, he would be set for food for at least a week, maybe less because of Wendy.
Wilson lunged for the eggs and began to stuff them into his backpack, tossing out all the rocks and twigs he had collected before.
Two dying whines and a shriek filled the air. The bloodfest of the wolves had ended, and another was just beginning.
Wendy sat in the tangled berry bushes, she watched Wilson run until she couldn't see him anymore. She contemplated over her circumstances, a heavy weight settled in her heart as she thought about how that was probably the last time she'd see him again.
She shuffled into a more comfortable position and glanced down at what Wilson had shoved into her arms, a backpack. Her heart sank further when she saw what was inside, a spear, the rest of the food she hadn't taken and a torch. Supplies to last through the night. A prickle of guilt weaved its way through her, she didn't care deeply for her, but he obviously cared greatly for her safety despite barely knowing her.
She was pulled back to the present when the monotonous barks were interrupted by distant screeches. That was odd. Wendy couldn't hear the barking anymore there was only high-pitched screams. She shivered, it reminded her of distant memories.
Wendy pulled the flower out of her hair, a feeling of dread hung over her as she stared at it. She could feel the flower's crushing constricting prison around the spirit residing within. It was hungry for death. Wendy felt hesitation. The flower whispered for her to leave her hiding spot. To head to the screams of the damned.
Wendy obeyed.
All doubt she had before was gone, replaced with a burning desire for death. Wendy sprinted towards the screams, a giddy, maddening wish within her.
Wendy neared the clearing, able to witness the bloodied corpses of pitiful dogs. Eyes were pecked out, blood gurgled out of their throats, their fur matted with blood and nightmares. Through her hazy frenzied eyes, she was able to make out a small figure trying to fight back the towering birds. It looked so pitiful, there was blood dripping along the side of it's face, it's eyes brimming with tears of overwhelming panic, and its pitiful weapon swinging wildly to hit anything. She wished it would just die so she could begin her attack.
She watched as the weapon swung down upon one of the smaller tallbird's children, killing it a fell swoop.
Her mind crumbled upon itself. It felt as if all her warmth had been taken from her, leaving her cold and numb. The flower hungrily absorbed her energy along with the death of the smallbird. With her warmth, it also took her craving for blood.
Wendy reopened her eyes anew. A horrible sight greeted her. The man that had protected her looked crushed and defeated, the tallbirds seemed even more gruesome than before. Their eyes not of agitation, but of blood lust.
Wendy felt her body tremble. What had happened to her? She had lost control over herself, yes that was it. This new harsh world wasn't good for her sanity. Even if she normally was accustomed to isolation, in this world, that would result in insanity. She was surprised Wilson hadn't completely lost it in the time frame that he had been alone.
The scene around her was brutal. The tallbirds were no longer fighting with rage, but out of fear of their lives. Her sister, a thin ghostly figure was not attacking their physical forms, but their soul, scarring it until it was so broken it couldn't control it's body.
The tallbirds were soon twisted limp forms on the ground, their eyes in a permanent form of fear. Wendy walked past the array of death that lay before her to the poor man whose body seemed to be malfunctioning. She approached the collapsed man resting on his backpack. She wondered if he was dying, it would be a pity as he would've proven useful.
"Wilson?" Her voice cracked. She was surprised how desperate and needy she sounded. She remembered her fascination of death, of how simple and beautiful it had seemed to her. She couldn't see any of its beauty now.
Wilson eyes barely opened and she could see the life leaving his eyes. His face, crumpled in pain, softened as he saw her, safe and unharmed. The soft happy gaze he gave her shattered something in Wendy.
Wendy gingerly pulled the dying man into a hug, the rancid stench of blood filled her nostrils, but she didn't care. She felt two stringy arms weakly wrap around her back. For the first time in a long time, she felt sorrow again. It wasn't the type that brought the uncontrollable tears, but the type that one could feel when realized how hopeless and alone one was.
She didn't know how long she stayed like that, but she knew that when she had finally walked away that he was dead.