“Maybe this was a mistake,” I admitted as the sun finally crept high enough to break through the treetops. In golden strokes, light pierced through the forest ceiling, painting everything in dewey resplendence. The morning woods were beautiful, but I knew better. Danger lurked around every corner.

  As I crawled out from under the concealing thicket that had protected me through the night, weariness and doubt crept into my body. This place was far too dangerous. I wasn’t prepared enough for it at all.

  “This part of the forest must be for high level…” I searched for a word to complete the sentence that wasn’t players. “...people,” I finished. “Oh, Spot. Maybe you were right. This forest is too big a place for someone like me.” For once, I felt like the tiny rabbit I’d found on my first day in the woods. Helpless, alone, and, as a predator’s shadow fell over me, praying it had mercy.

  “Should I turn back?” The thought made me sick.

  “You shouldn’t decide anything before breakfast,” my mother’s words suddenly echoed in my head. My stomach grumbled.

  “She’s right, I guess. One thing for sure,” I remarked idly as I sat in the grass to eat a fish, “I’m glad Spot isn’t with me. That rabbit would’ve been somebody’s meal by lunchtime yesterday.”

  After the monstrosities of the day before, I’d need the courage of my warrior class to continue on, but I resisted. The scout’s knowledge was too useful.

  “Menu. How many free switches do I have left?” My stomach had been sated but now my eyes drooped with lethargy.

  Menu

  [Free class switches remaining: 1]

  “At least I have a free one if I need it.” A class change this far in the forest was a dangerous game without free switches. All it would take was one bad encounter and I’d be stuck as something other than the scout class, for three days… deep in a forest with no way to tell where home was.

  “I better be sure before I switch classes again. For now, it’s safer just to stick to scout until I’m out of these woods. I don’t think a level eight warrior will be much use here anyway.” As breakfast settled in my stomach, so did my uncertainty. Turning back no longer seemed appealing, even if my nerves hadn’t eased down yet.

  “It’s too early to turn back,” I told myself, “What do I have to show for it if I did? No, I’ve come this far. No matter the danger, I must keep going.”

  It wouldn’t have mattered either way because there was no possibility of turning back on my mind. I knew deep down that I had to try because whatever lay beyond this forest might be able to help get me home, and that was worth dying for.

  With newfound resolve I stood up, tossed the empty fish bones to the side, and reentered the chaos of the forest.

  I was much slower going forward. With all of the predators lurking around, there was no reason to risk speed. Besides, if I was that impatient I may as well turn back.

  With precision and skill I slunk through the underbrush, channeling my inner predatory cat. Though I was nowhere near as good, I could feel my level eight scout’s stealth skills in effect. Noise was absent in my movement where it hadn’t been at level one. And my knowledge of the forest was growing with each new encounter. Moment by moment, I grew more comfortable in this new and dangerous place.

  Though exhausted, I planned to sleep only when I found the right moment. It had to meet all of my parameters: must be high off the ground, or if low on the ground concealed from top to bottom, must be a lot of foliage nearby to dip into for quick hiding, and I must not have seen any large predators in the area for at least an hour of travel. If it didn’t meet those requirements, then I decided I wasn’t sleeping.

  And that’s how it was.

  That day I spent hiding, creeping, watching, making a quarter of the progress I’d made the day prior but in the end I’d seen a lot more– understood a lot more of the forest.

  Predators gathered around water sources, I knew already, so besides slinking under cover to fill my water horn, I stayed away. Also, if there was large prey around, such as the silver striped boar, I knew too that equally large predators were lurking in the shadows. A wide berth was given to them and I made sure to move even slower in those areas, darting from bush to bush.

  The tactic wasn’t perfect. Plenty of times I fell into a bush for safety only to find a critter already hiding there. Like in one instance, when a giant boar had snuck up on me, both of us unwittingly bumping into each other, I launched into a nearby bush just as the large beast turned to look for me. Luckily, it hadn’t seen me. Unluckily for me, though, I’d landed in a bush with a bushy tailed fox the size of a large dog.

  I landed right at its feet just in time for it to yelp, swat at my face, to which I covered up, and then, releasing a yelp of my own, it bit me right on the forearm, hard.

  We both dashed out of cover in opposite directions. It exploded out into the safety of the forest. I, on the other hand, ran smack into the behind of the giant boar.

  The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

  This one was particularly nasty, with warts poking through its matted fur and a ghastly smell permeating off its body. The beast, taller than me, spotted me with an annoyed eye after a flick of its head. It squealed so loudly I thought my ear drums would burst.

  I dove out of the way of its charge just in time for it to smash head first into a tree, rustling the whole structure and causing a cascade of leaves. The beast fell to its belly, dazed. I could’ve skewered it and ended the encounter but I took the time, instead, to dash off into the forest.

  !Achievement

  Engage in combat with an enemy of a higher level and survive

  50XP

  50 additional XP awarded for level difference of opponent

  Later that evening I found an oak thick as a house to climb into. Where the limbs split from the trunk there was a nice natural nestling spot hidden by thick bushels of leaves, so much so, it darkened the sunlight considerably. As soon as I climbed inside and sat down, I felt my eyes starting to droop. The night before had taken its toll.

  All of the parameters were checked off with this spot. I stayed up for as long as I could to make sure nothing was lurking around the tree then sleep finally took me.

  When I woke, the forest was pitch dark. Leaving the safety of the tree I found the moon peering down at me through the treetops.

  “How long was I out?” It was maybe past midnight, but there was no real way of telling.

  I debated staying in the tree until sunup but my cranky limbs desired movement. Besides, it wasn’t much safer staying still than it was moving around, night or not.

  Even in the evening, the forest was alive with noise, this time with much stranger sounds. Night owls cooed, crickets chirped, but also distant, unnatural howls broke the odd cacophony, rising and falling in volume at random. The chilling calls made me think twice about my night ventures but the memory of the giant bear turning my previous camp over kept my desire to wander just as strong.

  “There’s no safety anywhere. May as well keep moving before I become somebody’s late night secret snack.”

  Another day passed and it was just as eventful and long as the two previous.

  The strangest thing that happened occurred sometime before dawn, when I came up on a burrow in the ground as wide as my head. The moon shone into a clearing brightly elucidating the hole in the ground. My curiosity kept me there, wondering what was hiding inside. My mind went to Spot and how the little rabbit liked to burrow back at camp.

  “If this is a rabbit’s hole then it must be a huge rabbit.” Just as I whispered that to myself, an animal broke through the foliage.

  It looked like a snow white ferret with shining eyes. I ducked my head down behind the broad leaves of some kind of fern, watching from safety.

  The creature was slender and beautiful with a perfect snow white coat that glowed silver in the moonlight. It curiously poked its head around the clearing before hopping towards the burrow.

  “So it’s yours,” I said, but the animal stopped just at the mouth of the burrow, seemingly disinterested in it. It was hard to see, but in the grass at the foot of the burrow looked to be a collection of acorns and nuts.

  Alarms went off in my head at the sight. The pile looked too intentional to be natural.

  “A trap? But set by who?” I got my answer just as the little animal went in for a nut. Suddenly, springing from deep within the earth, a giant spider the color of midnight shot out from the hole and dug its fangs into the animal. Before it even had a chance, the animal was paralyzed and dragged back into the den with nothing more than a whisper. Nothing remained that proved it had even happened.

  Shivers went up my spine. The spider had been as big as my head and that’s not counting its blade like spindly legs. Not to mention, it was smart enough to lay traps… Goblins were seemingly becoming less and less of a worry of mine.

  “Note to self, stay away from holes.”

  In the sunshine I wasn’t sure if I felt safer or just more capable. My movements were softer, more efficient, and quick. As the day wore on and night fell again, I could feel myself growing more patient, stealthier, and more adept at noticing potential danger. A second sense started to form that tingled whenever I sensed a trap or felt the strange aura of a hunting ground.

  Though the nights were still terrifying, the paralyzing effect they had over me lessened with each one survived. I slept every other day now. Sleep was too dangerous to be regular, but my body adapted to it almost instantly. Whether that was because of the endurance or my increasingly steely nerves, I wasn’t sure.

  Threats became second thought and, as my feet carried me further from home, my confidence grew with each step. Day after day, I survived.

  It wasn’t easy, though. Danger was still around every corner. One night, I climbed along the tree tops thinking I had found some kind of hack through the woods. Then, I gripped onto a low hanging branch only for it to oddly give in under my weight. I fell to the clearing below and by the time I looked up, glowing eyes were staring down at me from above.

  They were slitted, split in half by black pupils and glowed yellow in the dark. The creature’s reptilian head was slender, triangular, and a flick of its tongue told me what it was: a giant snake, thick as an anaconda but far, far longer. Its body, I realized, was draped over the tops of the trees. It was so long, in fact, most of what I thought had been branches were in fact the snake’s drooping body.

  Luckily, it was disinterested in me as I backed away with a shiver unpursued.

  Sleeping in a tree from then on was a last resort.

  But as time went on, the forest grew clearer and clearer, of both threats but also dense foliage. The underbrush grew shorter and less barbed. The trees returned to normal colors, and normal sizes. Even the animals, the predators and prey alike, shrank back to normalcy. A part of me was unsure whether or not I had survived the darkest part of the jungle or gotten so skilled at dodging danger that I didn’t never even saw it.

  By the time I was sure of my answer, there was no denying it. The wildness of the forest had dissipated. Now, butterflies traipsed in the meadows. Pink and white soft flowers grew around sparse clearings and fat squirrels returned to the tree branches. I wasn’t completely sure until the first night fell on this part of the forest. Then, there was no doubt as the horrific sounds of the nights prior were absent and all was quiet.

  On one sleepless night, I stood under the stars watching them twinkle in the moonless sky. The nerves that had kept me alive in the deep forest were hard to ease. Each snap of a twig made me jump and the breath of wind against the tree tops snapped my head around, intending to catch some heaving creature the size of a car sneaking up on me. But it never happened.

  That night, I finally accepted that I’d survived the deep forest, and, for the first time in I wasn’t sure how many days, I started a tiny fire to sat at and rest my weary legs. As the flames warmed me, I poked at them with a long stick, playing in the embers absently. It had only been days but it felt like I had been gone months. Lonely, and finally at peace, the nostalgic sense overtook me. I sighed, wishing Spot were nearby.