Chapitre 13: Savior
Adam, now perched over the wide tree branch, his face in a frown as he tried to rationalize the situation.
Adam could not understand how Marcaine could be so rash.
He was running from wolves? He certainly knew, as a soldier, that darkness was no friend to anyone. Moreover, and most importantly that he should have ran.
He was not an action hero after all.
Adam deliberated over whether he should try to help the fleeing Marcaine.
He would be risking his life.
It would be the sane choice to feign ignorance of Marcaine's blight.
Indeed, the sanest decision would be to stay atop the branch.
But morally, seeing someone running for their lives from wild animals, caused him to consider more thoroughly.
The chance he died if he tried to help, was at least 50%.
If he tried to get their attention from his high vantage point, he could be stuck in the tree, for days, as he starved.
If he descended, there were the pack of wolves that could tear him to shreds.
There was the test's criteria to consider too.
Teamwork was not being tested.
Saving others would not be of benefit to him.
Marcaine's condition worsened as the distance between the wolves and them shrunk.
Adam did not have more time.
Would he be a hero?
If it was the old him, he would likely do nothing.
Even if he helped Marcaine, it may be just forfeiting his life, resulting in them both dying.
But, the regret would stay with him.
The fortune of getting summoned, and getting a system, he had to bare some responsibility with having power.
Not take everything on his shoulders like Atlas, but, if he had the chance to save people he saw in danger...
Taking a deep breath, he put aside his grievances, at his hand being forced.
Gripping the trunk, the bark bruising his hands, he descended from the tree.
Now on the floor of the forest, darkness clinging to his sight, he quickly looked around.
Seeing no other problems, he deeply inhaled.
A thought flashing in his mind: 'I am so gonna regret this.'
His eyes on the pack of wolves, his hands packed tight, he bellowed: "I am over here!"
The sound of growling faded, becoming a sharp silence.
In the distance, he saw the wolves peer in his direction.
Growling that pitched higher, like a revving chainsaw, shattered the quiet.
In moments, their figures growing as they neared, the wolves shot forward in his direction.
He could roughly see Marcaine, looking over his shoulder, an expression of shock, his brows curled up.
This brought joy to Adam's heart.
That's right, he saved him.
Expecting Marcaine to work with him to overcome this, his teeth snapped down when he saw Marcaine continue to run.
His anger boiling. The happiness of seeing Marcaine surprised crushed to dust.
Adam regretted it.
Too close to the dashing wolves for comfort, Adam sprinted in the opposite direction.
The breeze of the forest wrapping him, as he charged ahead.
He did not have time to make a plan.
Adam had to decide on what he had to do immediately.
The wolves had already started to shorten the distance.
Fatigue easing it's way into his mind and body.
Adam was no trackstar.
His mind racing, A plan of action popped into his mind.
Racing deeper into the forest, his eyes caught sight of shrubbery.
Uncertain, but swiftly, he pulled some shrubbery free, that he rubbed over himself.
If he was to lose the pack of wolves, he had to change his scent.
Wolves had excellent senses, especially their sense of smell.
If he changed how he smelled, even if he died, he would not make their hunt so easy.
He may be able to get the wolves to barge into somewhere they shouldn't.
A strategy called territorial invasion.
The wolves could be high up in the pecking order.
But, higher than wolves...
Adam's frustrations melted slightly as his plans to survive were further ratified.
He changed directions around a tree, having noticed the gradual rising slope of the ground.
The loudening growl of wolves at his back filling him with adrenaline.
His energy reserves scattering, he glanced around.
Adam's destination not in sight, he continued to run.
His luck turned around quickly, as soon, the wolves closer than ever, he found it.
A cave.
Adam thought: 'Please don't pardon the intrusion.' He ran into the entrance, it's darkness consuming him and the wolves at his heels.
His vision dulling, he slowed his pace.
It did not take long for him to find his target.
Before him, slumbering, was a bear.
Its fur a dark brown, its body lumbering, its eyes a beady ink black.
No time to hesitate, he shot his arm out, jabbing it in the face.
Its neck pulled back slightly as its eyes snapped open.
Pushing itself to its feet, it let out a roar, its maw facing down Adam.
Its eyes sharpened as it was about to move.
Not wasting a moment he took off his shirt and threw it at the bears face, denying it vision.
It let loose a roar, its tone confused.
In the brief time it provided, the shadows behind him warped.
The wolves were seconds away.
Adam moved against the wall, try as he might to not, his stomach protruded.
As the wolves reached his position, the bear pawed upward, at Adam's shirt that blocked it's vision.
Terminating his idea of watching how things play out on the side, he ran further into the cave as the wolves appeared on the scene. The bear could kill him in a blow.
Instead, he would hide as the animals bit, and clawed at each other.
In moments, the sounds intensified, the echoes of barks and roars laced the walls of the cave.
On his knees, his back to the cave's wall, he shrunk his presence, breathing shallowly.
Though, he would want to see how things played out, survival was his foremost priority.
Pained yelps, growls and roars thundered for a handful of minutes.
He half expected for a wolf or two to reach him, but nothing happened.
The sounds fading, relaxed his mind, tugging at his tiredness.
Fighting back the urge to sleep, he waited.
After an hour, needing to know if it ended for sure, he walked to the center of the cave.
On the ground, was the bear, its eyes closed, its body lined with gashes, scratches, and bites. Its breathing ceased.
Scraps of his shirt before it.
Encircling it were wolves, several which were dead. One, who he remembered from earlier, that was at the stream, and the tree, for it's beautiful fur.
However, this time, an especially large gash ran across its body, its previous lustrous fur muted.
Its dull gaze turned shakily upward, catching an ember of light as it observed Adam.
Its whimpers as soft as the gentlest breeze.
A feeble cough escaped, as its pained eyes shut for good.
Adam fell against the wall, his tightly packed fist drawing blood.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone