Rain awoke with the dim light of early morning filtering through the canopy above. His body felt stiff from the cold night, the bnket of damp leaves beneath him offering little warmth. His eyes flickered open, the remnants of exhaustion still heavy in his bones, but there was a new determination stirring within him.

  The weight of the past days had built up, but today was different. The forest was still, almost eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves as the wind stirred through the branches. He sat up slowly, stretching his limbs.

  Today, he told himself, that he'd make it work even if it's his first time. The hunger gnawing at his stomach was a constant reminder that survival was a delicate thing—he couldn’t waste time. The fire from st night was now reduced to smoldering embers, a stark reminder that he couldn’t rely on the past for too long.

  Rain gnced around, mentally preparing for the hunt ahead. It was time to set his traps.

  Rain had never really been good at this. He had hunted before, of course, but hunting with a sword and chasing prey through the woods was different from setting traps. Traps required patience. Care. Attention to detail. All things Rain didn’t always have in abundance. But he had to try. He had to make it work.

  His mind kept running through the steps of what he had observed others do. He needed to use the vines and branches in the right way. Something to make a snare, something to tighten when the prey walked into it. He had the basic idea, but execution was a different matter.

  His first attempt was clumsy. He had set up the trap too high, the vines dangling loosely, no real tension to hold anything in pce. When the prey approached—he wasn’t sure what it was, maybe a rabbit, maybe a hare—it darted right under the trap, sniffing around briefly before hopping away. He cursed under his breath, annoyed with himself.

  Rain quickly reset the trap, this time making sure the noose would be closer to the ground, where it might catch the prey’s leg. But as he bent over to tie off the knots, a low snap sounded from the bushes, and a twig broke. He froze, hoping the noise hadn’t scared anything off. He waited in silence for several long moments, but nothing moved. Slowly, cautiously, he looked around.

  Nothing.

  He sighed in frustration, pulling his hand through his hair. He wasn’t cut out for this. Not without help. He could feel the weight of the task pressing down on him. There was no one else to bme for his failure. It was all on him now.

  “Come on, Rain. Focus,” he muttered to himself.

  He took another deep breath, refocusing his thoughts, then redoubled his efforts to set a new trap. He worked slower this time, ensuring the vines were twisted and knotted correctly, making sure the snare would be tighter. Each step was deliberate, but his impatience still tugged at him, making him want to rush.

  When the trap was set, Rain stood back, watching the surrounding area. He waited for what felt like hours, though it was probably only a few minutes. His eyes darted around, scanning the underbrush for any signs of movement. Every time the wind rustled the leaves, his heart skipped a beat.

  There was a faint rustle behind him. He spun around, eyes wide, his hand flying to the hilt of his sword. But when he looked, it was only a small bird flitting through the branches above. He let out a shaky breath and ran a hand over his face, trying to push the tension out of his body.

  “Focus,” he whispered again, trying to calm his nerves. He needed food, and he wasn’t going to get it by panicking.

  More minutes passed, and the trap remained undisturbed. The longer he waited, the more his confidence waned. Was this really going to work? He had seen others set traps like this before, but they’d done it with experience. They knew what they were doing.

  He didn’t.

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity, something moved at the edge of his vision. A small creature, something he couldn’t quite make out, was moving toward the trap. He could hear its soft footfalls in the underbrush. It was coming closer.

  His heartbeat quickened. This was it. It had to work this time.

  Rain watched carefully as the creature approached, its nose twitching as it sniffed the air. He held his breath. The prey was close now, just a few feet away from the snare. He didn’t dare make a sound, his body frozen as he focused on the trap.

  Then, just as the creature stepped forward, its foot brushed the edge of the snare. The trap snapped shut.

  But it wasn’t fast enough.

  The creature, a rabbit, darted forward, breaking free just before the snare tightened around its legs. Rain let out a frustrated growl as he watched the rabbit bound away, disappearing into the thick underbrush.

  “Dammit,” he hissed, gring at the trap. He couldn’t believe it. Another failure. He had been so close.

  But he didn’t have time to linger on it. He needed food. He couldn’t let this stop him.

  Rain reset the trap once more, trying to adjust the tension, hoping for a better result. This time, he worked more carefully, not rushing. Every knot had to be right. The loop had to be perfect. He couldn’t afford another failure. Not now.

  Once again, he waited.

  And waited.

  The minutes crawled by, his body aching with the need for rest, but he didn’t move. He couldn’t afford to. The trap had to work. He couldn’t let another opportunity slip away.

  Hours passed.

  The forest was growing darker, the evening air turning colder, and Rain’s patience was wearing thin. His legs were stiff from crouching for so long. His stomach growled loudly, but he held himself back from making any rash moves. He had learned the hard way that rushing only led to mistakes.

  And then it happened.

  A rustle in the bushes. A flicker of movement.

  Rain’s pulse spiked again, his entire body going rigid. He waited, watching the underbrush closely, praying that whatever it was would walk right into the trap.

  There it was again. The flicker of movement, a fsh of fur.

  A hare.

  It stepped carefully through the bushes, its eyes wide, nose twitching. The hare didn’t seem to notice the snare. It was focused on something else, probably searching for food of its own.

  Rain’s heart beat faster. This was his chance. He could make it work. He had to.

  The hare moved closer to the snare, its paws brushing the edge of the trap. Rain barely dared to breathe as he watched it approach. A few more steps and—

  The trap snapped shut.

  This time, it worked. The snare tightened quickly, and the hare struggled, its tiny body kicking in the air as it tried to break free. Rain rushed forward, kneeling beside it, his hands trembling as he quickly secured the animal.

  It was still alive, but barely. Its struggles weakened as Rain tied its legs, ensuring it couldn’t escape.

  A small, relieved ugh escaped Rain’s lips as he held the hare in his hands. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. He had done it. His first successful trap. He could eat tonight.

  The hare clutched tightly in his hands. He needed to butcher it, to prepare it for cooking. He wasn’t skilled at this, but it didn’t matter. He would make do. He had to.

  The camp he had made yesterday would be perfect for cooking. Rain set the hare down beside it, quickly pulling out his knife. His tired hands were unsteady as he began to clean the animal, but he pushed through, determined to do what was necessary.

  Rain carefully skinned the hare, his hands moving with purpose. The smell of fresh meat filled the air, drawing his focus back to the task at hand. As he skewered the meat, he thought, 'This will have to be enough for tonight.' His mind wandered briefly to the others, but he quickly shoved those thoughts aside. He didn’t have time to wonder about them. Not anymore.

  When it was done, he set the meat over the fmes, waiting for it to cook. It would take time, but it didn’t matter. He could rest now. For the first time in what felt like forever, he could take a breath.

  He didn’t know what would come next. He didn’t know what dangers y ahead. But for now, he had food. He had made it. And he would keep moving forward.

  His gaze wandered back to the fire, now nothing but embers. ‘I can’t think about the past anymore. Only what’s ahead.’

  The fire crackled as the hare cooked over the fmes, and Rain sat back on a rock, his gaze fixed on the flickering light. 'I should start moving south tomorrow…' The thought was fleeting, quickly buried beneath a rising sense of urgency. 'I shouldn't rush. They’re either dead, or they’re not and if not then good. Either way, I’m still here, still alive. And that’s all that matters.'

  His fingers traced the hilt of his sword, a subconscious gesture, grounding him in the present. The smell of roasting meat filled his senses, pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. The crackling of the fire broke the silence, and he felt the warmth seep into his skin. The hunger in his stomach was slowly quieting.

  The meat was sizzling now, the sound filling the air as it cooked through. ‘It’s not much, but it’s enough,’ he thought, staring into the fmes. ‘Better than nothing.’ His stomach growled again, and he could feel the hunger gnawing at him. He needed food, and this hare, simple as it was, would keep him going. For now.

  The hare was cooked. Rain tore off a piece and took the first bite. The meat was tender, the fvors rich and earthy. As he chewed, he thought, ‘It’s not perfect, but it’s food.’ He swallowed, and the warmth from the meat spread through him.

  The fire crackled as the meat disappeared. Rain kept eating, but it was hard to focus on the food. The satisfaction of filling his stomach was short-lived.

  As he finished the st of the meat, the warmth of the fire couldn’t ease the unease that tightened his chest. ‘This won’t st. I need more. I’ll need to hunt again. Maybe tomorrow…’ His hand tightened around the hilt of his sword again, his mind already pnning ahead. 'There’s no time to waste.'

  The fire crackled one st time before it dimmed. Rain stood, pulling the st remnants of the hare’s warmth into his body. His thoughts shifted again. ‘I can’t afford to be weak. I can’t afford hesitation.’ He gnced around, his eyes narrowing into the thickening dark. ‘Tomorrow’s hunt is going to be tougher than today. I’ll need to keep moving.’

  His gaze wandered back to the fire, now nothing but embers.