A dream now shattered

He had to admit to himself that his dream of ever wielding a sword was destroyed; he had nearly chopped off a finger and almost stabbed his foot with the sword. He knew how to make a blade, but using it was another matter. He wouldn't complain much, and although he wanted to wield a sword, he had to focus on what he could do.

Putting the sword away and dressing himself, he looks to the sky. The sun was still far from setting, and he had to find a way to make money. He had a few options; hunting was the only one with real value. It was a dangerous but quick way to make money since pelts and meat always sold well, especially as winter drew closer.

He contemplated his chances of beating a wolf and quickly concluded he could not win that fight. That didn't mean he was giving up; he just had to weaken them. His gaze moved to the lake as he cursed himself and stripped again. 

He was hiding atop a tree, his gaze locked on the fish on the ground. He had caught a fish from the lake, although if he had to admit. It took him too long, the sunset giving away that it had been more than a few hours. He had gotten a bit of training during the downtime; the orb inside his heart was slightly more prominent and filling with his chi.

He was anxious that the only thing he could sell would be the fish; enough people in his town could catch a fish. A wolf, though, would make him much more money and keep him fed for a few days.

To his surprise, the animal approaching the fish on the ground wasn't a wolf. It was a simple deer; it seemed slowly getting near as it sniffed the ground. He was afraid to breathe or move as he thought it would move; he swallowed his saliva and waited for it to get closer and closer. 

It finally got close enough to smell the fish, and he let himself drop from the tree. The deer's ears sprung upwards and took off; he managed to grab onto it; well, he had stabbed into it with the gauntlet's fingers. The deer took off with him gripping onto its back; the deer screamed as his fingers dug into its hide and spilled blood down its fur and onto his hands. He managed to keep a firm grip on it for quite a while, but as the deer jumped over a tree trunk, it launched him off and sent him tumbling.

He grunts in pain but forces himself to his feet and takes off after the deer. The wound he had inflicted on the deer was debilitating, and it left a blood trail for him to follow. He didn't know how long he was chasing after the deer, but running with the chest plate, gauntlets, and sword would tire him out. He chose to remove the sword and drop it into the ground; he ran his hands across a tree as he ran by to leave a mark for himself later to find the sword. 

He had long lost sight of the deer and was following the blood trial; he was worried about it getting caught by a different human and taking his kill. He heard the deer scream once more and hurried his pace as he passed the treeline and got out to a field. It had been a long time since he ever left the forest of Heartwood, but he didn't have the time to contemplate that as a pack of wolves had managed to catch his kill. One of the wolves was biting onto the neck, the rest of the pack biting onto its stomach and legs, biting off chunks of the deer.

The wolf biting onto the neck of the deer would let go and turn to him, growling as it slowly approached. The rest of the pack kept on eating, seemingly uninterested. 

His mind was racing. There were four in total, and although the others looked disinterested, he didn't know how long it would take for that to change. He didn't have much longer to think as the wolf charged at him, taking his lack of retreat as a sign that he intended to take their meal. 

He lifted his arms to guard his neck; the wolf bit onto the gauntlet and pushed him to the ground as its weight and speed were enough to break his balance. He was ashamed to say he froze at that moment and kept guarding his face and neck. The wolf stopped biting his gauntlet and moved to bite his bicep; the gauntlets only covered up to his forearm.

The pain cleared his mind as he used his free arm to punch the wolf's side. A whine came from the wolf, but it refused to let go. Instead, it bit even harder onto his arm and moved its head to try to rip his arm. 

The frog he had caught back in the lake flashed into his mind, his hand moving on instinct as he stabbed the neck of the wolf with the fingers of the gauntlets and ripped a chunk of the throat of the wolf as it went limp on top of him. He pushed it off and tried to pull himself to his feet. The other wolves had looked up from their meal, and their gaze moved onto him.

His heart was racing; he couldn't move his injured arm at all. He turned and ran as quickly as he could, the sounds of footsteps coming from behind him. He had to climb up a tree; the forest was close enough to make it, but he didn't know how to climb up the tree with one hand. 

He didn't get along as the footsteps drew closer; he could feel them nearing his legs; at that moment, it almost felt like their breath was touching his legs.

He got near the closet tree and jumped; to his surprise, he reached pretty high. He was a little too high as his head hit a branch near the top, but he regained his composure and managed to grab onto a different branch, holding onto it for dear life as the wolves barked underneath him. 

He pulled himself up on the branch and lay there waiting for the wolves to land, his body covered in sweat as he breathed heavily. The pain from his wound came back in full force as he held back the urge to cry out in pain. He didn't take long to figure out that he had accidentally used his chi to launch himself upwards, which had most likely saved him.

The wolves stayed under him for a long time, not that he cared, as he sat up and held onto the tree, his hand stabbing onto the trunk. He would be here a while, especially after killing one of them. 

He tried to focus on relaxing and calming his breathing, the pain making it quite hard. Despite everything, he did manage to calm himself, but as soon as he did, he passed out.