Alone in the night

John’s world dropped out from under him as he saw the small clearing he had just been standing in; it was turned over quite rigorously. John saw a few small traces of corrupted blood, as well as some blue liquid, which he, to his horror, realized was Jack’s blood. John groaned loudly as he clutched his broken arm, feeling how his Gamer’s Body skill started to put it back together already. With a pain wrenched face, John started to look around for any signs of his first pet. A sense of dread filled his heart when he found a tuft of fur on a nearby bush. John shuddered; Jack had defended him, even though he was so small, and it looked like the tiny leopard had taken quite the beating. John cursed himself, both for his inability to help his pet and for being dumb enough to get thrown into his own trap. It was at this moment that he realized he could simply recall Jack. Casting the spell with the same name right away, a flicker of hope sprung up in his heart, only to be ruthlessly snuffed out as he got the following pop-up:

Target is unreachable at this time. A magical suppression field blocks the Recall.

On one hand, John felt relief, Jack was still alive, but on the other hand, the nightmare had taken him. John wondered why but soon decided that instead of wasting time contemplating the reasoning of a corrupted unicorn he should find a way to get to Jack. With a soft ‘pop’ his arm finally slid back into its socket, whole once more. He crouched onto the trodden grass, focusing on his tracking skill and seeing the hoofprints light up. He took a long breath, finding the bolas back in his pocket; enchantment attached to it was indeed very useful. A few pop-ups were flashing at the side of his screen, but John ignored them for now. He needed to find Jack, that was all that mattered now. Even though he and Jack only knew each other briefly, Jack had already become an integral part of his life.

And so it was that the battered hunter started tracking the monstrous unicorn. John was grateful for the amulet he had gotten earlier, the nightvision making it a little easier to move and walk through the forest in the pitch black night, with the moon unable to filter through the thick foliage overhead. John kept low to the ground and threw the bolas at a soft rustling sound, shuddering as he saw a snake, tied up in the thrown weapon, fall down. John quickly went forward, the bolas once more appearing in his pocket. Feeling the urgent need to rescue Jack and worried about his fate, John started to run. His judgement clouded by a fear of what ifs. ‘What if I don’t make it in time? What if Jack is dead, what if... ‘ John tortured himself like this as paranoia made him hear sounds that might or might not have been there. The bolas got thrown and returned a few times, hitting some creatures, more often than not hitting nothing at all. Just as John thought he was getting closer, Murphy's law kicked in.

A chilling howl rang out from ahead, answered by multiple other howls around him. John swallowed heavily, coming to a halt in front of a tree. The rustling of leaves and plants around him was getting stronger. John spotted something in the distance, a large wolf, drool flowing from its sharp teeth as it made its way straight for him. Then John saw the next, and the next, cold sweat breaking out as he did the only sensible thing at this point: run!

John chose a direction where he saw fewer wolves and ran for it. The wolves howled again, adjusting their directions as John had been spotted. The hunter dashed through in between two wolves, making them pounce at each other, breaking out of the encirclement and running on. The wolves were hot on his heels, the echo of feet trampling the dirt, the howling and whining of the wolves behind him, savage barking and John’s own furiously beating heart. Without looking John threw his bolas behind him, causing one of the wolves closest to him to stumble, the few running behind it falling over it, putting some distance between John and at least some of the wolves. However, where he took out a few, more still chased him.

John was huffing slightly; his endurance allowed him to keep running, but the entire night had been a busy one. The only things keeping him going at this point were fear for his pet and the frustration that everything was going to hell.

Spotting a low hanging branch, John jumped up and quickly made his way on top of it, running along the branches in a different direction, trying to get away from the wolves when an angry looking ape barred his way. John, who at this point was looking down more than in front of him to see if the wolves were gone, ran straight into it, causing the strong creature to smack him right off the branch, taking away ten more of his health and leaving John right back on the ground.

John didn’t hear the wolves anymore, but he wasn’t sure if they would pick up on his scent, so the battered and bruised hunter ran for ten minutes more, criss-crossing across the forest, until, finally, he stopped to rest in a blackened, hollow tree. Scorch marks and splinters were visible around it, making John hypothesize that it must have been struck by lightning in the past.

John made himself small, curled up in the tree, realizing that by getting chased through the woods, he had lost the trail of hoofprints. So there John sat, hands in his hair as he contemplated what to do.