"This was a jankety ass plan."

I snarled at the sticks in my hand, going back to using one of my old house keys to scrape at it, shaping it how I needed it. It wasn't cooperating properly and this was my seventh stick in the last hour. I had slept in a huddle under my tree, curling around my things to try to keep them mostly dry. Now that the sun was shining, a watery globe barely seen in the distance, I was taking the opportunity to work.

I knew, in theory of course, how to make a recurve bow in the middle of the woods. Eventually. From there I would be able to get food. I was a little fuzzy on how I was going to cook and sanitize it, but that would wait until later. For now I had to get the food. The dog was chowing down on his puppy food beside me, and I made a mental note to figure out a name for the little guy. It wasn't like he was going to Grandfathers any time soon.

It took another hour (or four) to finally, lovingly, shape a stick correctly. It was strong, but springy enough. I had already fashioned a bowstring out of the string from my hoodie. Attaching it so that it would work correctly took another hour or so. I drew it back smoothly, with only the slightest bit of difficulty. It wasn't the correct draw weight but I could get used to it easier than I could make a better bow. Arrows were next.

I had to find a different tree with lower hanging branches, a nice hollowed out area at the base. I stripped off the hoodie, shivering slightly in only my sleeveless deathly hallows tank, racerback bra showing in the back. I didn't care too much about that. No one around here was going to see my poor fashion choice anyway. I draped the hoodie over some of the branches, using the arms to tie it tightly in place as a sort of roof to keep out most of the rain. I sat under it for a second, just smirking, grateful I love oversized hoodies, and basking in my moment of more or less accidental intelligence. I moved the sleeping puppy, who had passed out completely the moment he had finished eating.

Then I got moving again, scooping aside the soggy leaves and digging a good sized indention in the earth. With that done, I gathered the wood I had hunted for and stashed in the waistband of my jeans to keep dry. Starting a fire was more difficult than I had thought it would be, it'd been awhile since I'd had to do this after all. But I got it done eventually, our final in that survival class had involved making a fire. It had been in controlled conditions, but it was better than no experience at all. I sat beside the small blaze, drinking in the heat while I could, whitling out an arrow. I had nothing to make fletchings out of, and no way of knowing how, really, so I would just have to practice a bit to determine how that affected its flight. Then I could go after food.

Hardening the points of the 'arrows' in the fire was more difficult than the internet had made it sound. Four arrows lost to the flames and I finally had it down. I should have started with normal sticks to just test how to do it but everyone has their idiot moments. I used only one of the arrows to practice with, getting a feel for the weapon and adjusting things. Then I set out hunting, being sure to remember where I went so I could find my way back to my camp and stash of belongings.

There was a scare with a deer, well, it scared me and then I scared it and I was left still hungry. But the third rabbit I saw I finally got, more or less on accident. I had a feeling that people weren't common around here, and that if the rabbit had been even the slightest bit on its guard I would have been hungry for a few more days. The blood wasn't something I was really prepared for. But I pushed back bile and scooped up my prey, careful to keep it away from me. The scent of blood would never leave my clothes if I got it on them, then I would be marked as a predator. As it was I probably smelled like 'lavender escape', as the laundry detergent box had advertised.

In the end I used one of my keys to 'skin' the creature, ending with a bloody mess and at least three piles of vomit a few stumbling steps away from where I was preparing it. I ended up holding pieces of the meat over the fire on one of the failed arrows that had the ends scraped clean, rotating it like a marshmallow and sarcastically singing campfire songs under my breath. It didn't taste the best but I was fed at least. My canteen from my lunch box was easy enough to catch rainwater in, so I didn't dehydrate. I knew rainwater wasn't the 'cleanest' because of pollution and other shit but I didn't have much of a choice. 'Fluffy white' had taken care of the entrails before I got around to burying them away from the camp site. I spent a good bit of time cleaning his complaining muzzle, the contrast of red on white fur was disconcerting.

I used the same key for gutting to scrape as much gook off of the rabbit fur and cleaning it in a surprisingly deep puddle.

I set it to the side of my camp to dry, unsure really what to do with it, but unwilling to throw it away. I had most of the bones, washed of course, and I knew that in theory they could be used for sewing needles or some other thing. In history class they used bone for all sorts of tools. I could always experiment when the rain got too bad for me to want to risk leaving my shelter. When it had slacked off I had gathered thicker limbs with nice collections of leaves and placed them strategically in the branches like the roof of a small hut, leaning larger ones to the sides as a barrier for the wind. I couldn't get to the ones that would be the most useful, being the weakling I am. I resolved to fix that. Pull ups was something that was very possible here,with all of the freaking trees. At least one branch had to be sturdy enough to be a pull up bar.

That night I was less exhausted, and didn't sleep as well. Now that I was thinking clearer, rested, with food in my stomach I realized that I was alone. I only had a puppy for companionship. I was vulnerable. True, I had my weapon, but it was pitiful at best and I wasn't exactly good at it. I'd gotten third place in some contests a few times, but that was a compound bow, a recurve bow was always more difficult, and this one wasn't even properly made. I glared around at the darkness, arrow nocked and waiting. The fire had died down slightly and I was loath to bring it up again lest it attract attention. The chill had me poking it back to life and feeding it once again, though I told myself that it was just to keep away dangerous animals. But I knew a fire of this size wouldn't keep away anything truly dangerous.

That wouldn't stop me from sleeping a little easier with it glowing merrily at my bare feet, socks and converse drying on a rock beside us, the puppy curled up next to me. I resolved to buy twenty pillows the moment I had the means again. I always slept with a lot of pillows and I was missing them now more than ever. The rain started again with a soft clatter and I sighed, closing my eyes and leaning back against the tree. Well, at least I was still alive. Pushing back mental break down and most likely fighting off the beginnings of several diseases depending on how clean the rainwater was in this dimension, but currently alive.

~TimeLordOfPie