Minutes later, Leonard managed to stand without being overwhelmed by pain. Sitting on the grass, he took a deep breath, his muscles still protesting as he tried to gather strength. The urgent need to act snapped him back to reality—there was work to do.
Slowly, he twisted the cap off the leather canteen. The stench that escaped was unbearable, a putrid mix that churned his stomach violently. Coughing and holding his breath, he turned away and flipped the canteen upside down, letting the viscous liquid pour onto the ground.
— "Smells like pure shit!" — he exclaimed, nearly gagging on the lingering stench.
Even after emptying it, the foul odor seemed to cling to the air—less intense, but still unpleasant. Leonard grabbed the sword in his right hand and the canteen in his left, using the weight of the blade as a crude walking stick. He dragged it along the grass, leaving a visible trail, but preferred that over strapping it to his waist and fumbling with it in an emergency.
In the distance, a sound reached his ears—running water. Faint but steady, it sparked a flicker of hope. Leonard followed it without hesitation, though his mind warned him of treacherous puddles like those that had fooled him before.
— "I better remember to clean the canteen before filling it. Though honestly, I doubt anything will kill this stench... I'll probably have to just keep rinsing it over and over."
As the sound grew nearer, he found himself pushing through vibrant red bushes and the low canopy of a small tree that blocked the view ahead. Leonard paused, heart pounding with anticipation.
"Just a few more steps…"
Determined, he forced his way through the leaves, ignoring the discomfort of warm branches brushing his wounded skin. A breeze followed, sending chills down his spine, a stark contrast to the heat built up from exertion.
— "Huh…"
The sight before him was almost surreal: a small waterfall feeding into a crystal-clear stream. The water shimmered with purity—unlike anything else he'd encountered in this bizarre land. For a moment, Leonard let himself feel awe, but the illusion of peace shattered quickly.
Movement across the stream caught his eye. A bush rustled gently. He shoved the canteen into his pocket and raised the sword with both hands, eyes locked on the foliage.
"I knew it. Nothing's ever that easy here. Will this place ever stop trying to crush my hope?"
Suddenly, a small creature emerged. It looked like a squirrel—brown fur and a tail nearly three times its body length. Leonard relaxed slightly.
"Wait… it's just a squirrel?"
His expression changed as soon as he noticed the abnormalities. A third eye occupied the creature's forehead—larger than the others. Its claws shimmered like tiny blades.
"What the fuck is that?!"
Stunned, he kept the sword raised, ready for an attack. But the squirrel ignored him entirely, wandered to the waterfall, drank calmly, then disappeared back into the bushes as if it had never been there.
— "Is it over...? That was weird…" — he muttered, waiting a few seconds before convincing himself he was truly alone.
"Alright then…"
He approached the waterfall, the sound of the falling water oddly soothing. Despite its beauty, he knew better than to trust anything fully.
Forming a cup with his hands, Leonard felt the wind shift from east to south, ruffling his black hair streaked with white. Hesitant, he drank.
The water, though potentially unclean or unsafe by normal standards, was a luxury here.
Next, he opened the canteen and plunged it repeatedly into the water, rinsing it over and over. While the stench didn't vanish completely, it became tolerable.
"Well… I guess it wouldn't hurt to fill the canteen and take a bath after. Right?"
Lifting his soiled shirt, he gagged at the acidic smell of his own body. His hair was stiff with dirt and his face was caked in grime.
— "Yeah, a bath would do me good."
Leonard set down the sword and canteen on the bank, stripped off his clothes, and stepped into the water. Unlike what he expected, it was warm and soothing, easing the tension in his aching muscles. He leaned against the rocks, letting the current massage his body.
— "Ahh… this feels amazing…"
Resting, he splashed water over his head to remove at least some of the dirt. Gradually, he scrubbed every inch of his body with his hands.
Leonard stayed in the water for several minutes, cleansing himself as best he could. Each movement washed away the weight of the past days, leaving his mind briefly unburdened. The waterfall's roar masked all other sounds, creating the illusion that the world outside had paused.
But the illusion would not last. Time was a luxury he couldn't afford.
Reluctantly, Leonard climbed out and pulled on his damp clothes. The fabric clung to his skin, cold and heavy. He tied the sword to his waist with a makeshift knot, checked the full canteen, and took one last look at the waterfall before pushing through the bushes again.
The feeling had changed. The discomfort of warm leaves brushing his skin was gone, replaced by a strange, almost resigned calm. He breathed in deeply, absorbing the humid, heavy air that always preceded rain.
"At least it's not like that weird tree… I need to find food."
That thought trailed him until something interrupted it. Above, clouds were gathering, darkening the sky ominously. A low growl of thunder murmured across the horizon. A storm was coming.
And then he heard it—a guttural, low, threatening sound that ripped through the silence.
Leonard froze, instincts flaring. He turned sharply, heart hammering—and saw what he feared most: three white wolves emerging from the brush. Their mouths dripped fresh blood. Their jagged, gray teeth glinted like knives. Their cold yellow eyes locked on him, sending chills down his spine.
The wolves paused briefly, sizing him up. Then they began to advance—slow, deliberate steps.
Fear struck Leonard like a punch to the gut. His legs buckled; he nearly fell backward, staggering as he tried to stay upright. The air around him felt heavy, choking off all rational thought.
"Shit… not now… not like this!"
With trembling hands, Leonard drew his sword. The dull blade briefly reflected the gray sky before he raised it awkwardly, posture betraying his desperation.
— "No fucking way!" — he shouted, more to himself than to the beasts.
A crack of thunder exploded across the sky, echoing through the forest—a warning of the chaos to come.