Piccolo didn't know of any place beyond Yunzabit Heights, so he decided to pick a direction and simply walk until he found a good shelter. He wanted a warm place, and he wanted a place where there would be plenty of food and water. Piccolo thought back to the hunters that had pushed him out of his herd years ago. He remembered that when they left, they went south – or possibly another direction. It was a long time ago. Nevertheless, there had to be something in that direction. "South it is," he thought out loud.
Piccolo looked at the sun overhead. It was the afternoon, so he knew where west was. From that, he got east. 'So which way is south?' he thought. Piccolo couldn't think of a way to tell, and he stamped his feet on the clay in frustration. Suddenly, he had an idea. He would climb the hill again, and see which direction looked the best. So, he ran back up the hill. It was harder to climb up than down, but for Piccolo, it felt easier because he wasn't thirsty anymore. Once he got to the top, he looked at his surroundings.
This was the first time Piccolo had really taken in the scenery. Most of the time, he was either holed up in his little section of land, or he was exploring the meadows. Sure, those could be beautiful in their own right, but they didn't have a view. The only word Piccolo could think of to describe the view he saw from on top of the hill was, "Amazing." To the east and west, the Yunzabit Heights continued, a patchwork of hills, scrubby forests, and meadows. Most of it was brown, but it was still majestic. Perpendicular to the east-west axis, there were two radically different sights. In one direction, the mountains rose much higher than anything in Yunzabit. They were almost completely white, and he couldn't see any vegetation there. 'Not that way,' Piccolo thought. So he looked the other way – he decided to call that south, as the hunters couldn't have come from the "north".
In that direction was an enormous forest of dark green fir trees. This was interspersed with small, terraced clearings and stands of oak, birch, and cypress trees. Further down the slope, the fir mixed in with oak to form a speckled blanket of shades of green. Even further down, the oak trees formed a blanket of light green stretching to the edge of his vision. The terraced clearings became increasingly larger and denser down the slope, but the forest was still dominant. Riverbeds snaked down from the heights, widening as they descended the slope.
Piccolo immediately decided that he would go south. He walked down the hill, pausing at the bottom. 'I should follow one of the riverbeds,' he thought. 'That should lead me to water'. Piccolo ran to the edge of the edge of the Yunzabit Heights. It was quite far, and he was panting by the time he got to the edge. Piccolo realized that he had missed something on top of the hill. There was a large cliff, about 10 meters high, between the forest and the meadow.
Piccolo turned left and walked alongside the cliff. He remembered that there had been a riverbed not too far in this direction. After he reached the riverbed, Piccolo crouched on the side of the cliff. A small trickle ran in the riverbed, falling off of the cliff and into a small pond that flowed out deeper into the forest. There were several trees reaching up to the top of the cliff. Piccolo grabbed the top of one and attempted to shimmy down. However, the top of the tree was too light to support his weight, and the tree bent forward, catching itself on a tree branch. Piccolo's legs slipped from the tree and dangled several meters in the air. Piccolo pulled himself up. Right when his chin reached the thin top of the tree trunk, the trunk snapped.
Piccolo plummeted to the ground. It was so unexpected that he couldn't brace himself, only close his eyes. His feet hit the ground first, impacting the soil with a thud. His knees gave in, and his rear hit the ground second. Next his back slammed to the ground, followed by the back of his head. Piccolo opened his eyes and stared at the branch-strewn sky. How could something so big be so fragile? He was only a few meters from his old home, but already things were different.
Piccolo continued following the course of the riverbed. After a half a day of walking, the riverbed joined up with another one, also carrying a small trickle. It still wasn't good enough. The river didn't have enough water in it at this point, and there was nothing to eat but leaves and grass. So, Piccolo continued onward.
Once night fell, Piccolo made camp beside the river. He dug a shallow hole under a bush as a temporary shelter from the nightly cold. There was no food and little water nearby, so he had to conserve his energy. That meant taking shelter from the cold and wind rather than use his energy to warm himself up. The bush scraped his head as he lay in it, but it would have to do. Piccolo drank as much from the trickle of water in the riverbed as he could and started resting in his hole.
A few hours into his rest, Piccolo heard a noise. It was quiet, but getting louder. It sounded like heavy pads touching the ground one after the other. Piccolo pressed his ear harder against the ground, and the noise got louder and clearer. Now, it was apparent that the noise was a heavy creature with flat feet walking. And it was getting louder. 'I wonder what it is,' Piccolo thought. So he squirmed his way out of the hole and got to a knee next to the bush. He could see an outline now. There was a large creature moving towards him. Its outline was wide at the top and tapered beneath it to its two front legs, not too far apart. The legs lifted up, bent a wide paw at the end, and dropped down below the creature. With each step it took, the creature's shoulders swaggered back and forth. There was a large head with short ears facing him. The creature stepped into a small clearing and was illuminated by the moonlight. The bear stood up on its hind legs and roared.
Piccolo shuddered. The bear was easily a meter taller than he was, and many times bigger. He stood no chance against it. He had to run. Piccolo backed away from the bear. The bear went back down to all fours and moved closer to him, in the same swaggering way as before. Piccolo turned and bolted. The bear pursued him. Piccolo splashed through the trickle seconds before the bear did. They both ran as fast as was physically possible. Piccolo could smell the bear's foul stench. It was gaining on him. Piccolo racked his brains in desperation. 'If I can't outrun this thing, what can I do? Hide? Fight? First one seems good….' As Piccolo passed a large fir tree, he grabbed onto it and swung his body into a bush at the base of the tree. The bear noticed that his prey had escaped his sight and started sniffing. Piccolo tensed his muscles as the bear passed the tree sniffing. It turned its nose towards the bush. Piccolo, out of options, prepared to go down fighting. The bear came closer. Piccolo silently brought his right fist behind him. The bear stuck its snout into the bush. Piccolo plunged his right straight into the bear's nose.
The bear roared in pain. Piccolo leapt out of the bush and right at the side of the bear. He raked the bear's hide with his claws and dove to the side as the bear turned towards him. The bear slowly rotated towards Piccolo, while Piccolo shuffled to the bear's side. After almost a minute of nervous rotation, the bear's head was right in front of Piccolo. The bear pounced at Piccolo, aiming for his shoulders. Piccolo ducked under the flying bear and sunk his claws into his underbelly. However, the bear's hind claws hit his shoulders and bowled him over, giving him some stinging scrapes in the process. The bear's front feet hit the ground, followed by his hind feet. It roared and turned around. When the bear's left side was turned toward him, Piccolo jumped onto it, sinking his claws and teeth in. The bear roared and turned its head to the left. Piccolo sank his teeth in deeper and tensed his muscles. The bear bit Piccolo on his side. Piccolo screamed, releasing his mouth's hold on the bear. He climbed up onto the bear's back and bit the back of its neck.
The bear roared in pain once again. It started furiously shaking its shoulders, trying to get Piccolo off. But Piccolo held his claws and teeth in the bear's back. He buried his face in the bear's neck, ignoring the incredible stench of bear. Eventually, however, he needed to breathe. He lifted his face from the bear and inhaled, only to be launched off the bear's back and into a tree. The bear ran away into the night, and Piccolo slumped against a tree with major injuries in his side and shoulders.
Piccolo woke up at mid-morning. His wounds weren't too bad, but his entire body felt sore. He stood up and stretched, banishing some of the soreness. Suddenly, Piccolo realized that he didn't have any idea where he was. He tried to retrace his steps.
"Okay, so I was thrown over there from here… and the monster shook around over here… and I jumped on him… yeah, I'm lost," he said to himself.
Piccolo found a clearing and looked at the landscape in all directions. He found the large, snow-topped mountains and turned the opposite direction. Piccolo started walking, and resolved not to stop or change directions until he found his new home.