It really seemed like Adam had conquered his fear of the forest. Where he used to tread hesitantly, now he marched ahead with confident strides.
Clara looked back at the determined light in his dirt-smeared face and couldn't help but feel proud. Clearly, her teaching methods were paying off.
Noticing his stepmother's gaze, Adam looked up and gave her a "strong" smile. The two of them moved like a pair of wildcats, darting freely through the mountain woods.
Clara was heading back to the cave she had stayed in last year. But they'd lost two days poking through snake dens, and she'd gotten a bit turned around. Now she needed to relocate it.
This became Adam's second wilderness lesson—how to orient oneself in a dense forest with heavy vegetation and a canopy that blocked out the sky.
And what to do if you got lost.
"The first priority," Clara told him, "is to stay alive. If you truly can't find your way, find water."
In Clara's words, you wouldn't starve to death in the woods anyway. Worst case, you just turn into a mountain hermit.
That shocked Adam's young heart once more. His stepmother's inner strength was awe-inspiring.
They cut through layers of brush and finally reached the forest's deeper core.
There was still plenty of undergrowth, but due to the temperature shift, it wasn't overly thick—they could walk upright with ease.
Clara led the way toward a water source and told Adam to ready his slingshot. If he spotted any small animals—take the shot.
After two days of boring snake-poking, this task instantly reignited Adam's enthusiasm.
After all, what kid hadn't dreamed of becoming a sword-wielding wanderer?
As soon as he spotted a target, Adam couldn't help but let out a war cry—only to be smacked on the back of the head by Clara.
"Quiet!"
Were you hunting or scaring the animals off?
Adam muttered an "Oh," rubbing his head. It was the first time in his memory that Clara had hit him.
Oddly enough, it didn't hurt. In fact, it felt... nice. Maybe she could hit him more often—just like a real mom would.
Clara spotted a small squirrel and quickly raised her own slingshot. Just as she was about to call Adam, she noticed him staring dazedly at her. She frowned and whispered, "Eyes forward. Don't look at me."
Adam snapped back to focus and exhaled quietly, pulling himself together to learn from her.
They'd shot birds before, but those birds were stupid. They didn't flee even when squawking, and once scattered, they circled back within minutes. No real skill required.
Deep in the mountains, it was a different story.
Prey didn't roam around carefree. They had predators to watch for, and prey of their own to catch. Most stayed hidden during the day and only emerged at dusk.
But if you camped near a water source at sunset, you'd see a parade of animals come to drink.
Adam now had a squirrel in his arms, caught alive and knocked unconscious by Clara. It was a unique little thing with a streak of white in its tail and a tuft of white fur on its forehead—adorable.
That's why Clara had captured it rather than kill it. She planned to take it back and sell it as a pet.
Adam felt bad for the little guy and instead of holding it by the scruff as instructed, he cradled it to his chest.
Clara didn't scold him—he hadn't seen real kills yet, so she let his soft-heartedness pass.
The two of them perched atop a large tree near the water source, watching the activity below.
No large beasts had shown up yet. Those only came out after dark. The biggest animals near the stream now were a pair of spotted deer.
Adam's eyes lit up. Still holding the squirrel with one hand, he clumsily signed with the other—the hand signals Clara had just taught him—asking if he could take a shot at the deer.
Clara shook her head. The water source wasn't the best hunting ground. Unless you only planned to come once.
Otherwise, you'd alert the bigger animals and put them on high alert. They might not return for a long time.
Adam nodded regretfully—he understood.
But seeing Clara show no intention of moving, he couldn't help but gesture again: We're not going to keep hunting today?
One squirrel felt a bit... lacking.
Clara gave him a warning look. Don't forget the original goal. Training is why we're here.
You hadn't even mastered the basics, and you wanted to jump straight to the advanced stuff?
Realizing she wasn't going to take action, Adam nodded again—regretful, but undeterred.
Clara could tell his interest was far from fading.
She smiled inwardly. No use trying to talk down young blood. Let him try it himself.
She waved him over and pointed to one of the deer that had wandered off alone. Then she reached out to retrieve the squirrel from his arms and gave it another light whack to keep it unconscious.
Adam's breathing grew heavier. His eyes lit up with barely-contained joy.
At Clara's nod, he slid down the tree trunk and crept after the deer.
He'd learned how to track, and now he followed the animal at a distance, careful not to make a sound. The deer seemed unaware of his presence, which made Adam giddy with excitement.
The deer stopped near a bush full of wild berries and began to munch. Still oblivious.
Adam slowly stood up, drew an arrow from his quiver, and notched it to his bow.
His form was textbook-perfect. It was clear he hadn't been slacking in his backyard practice.
Before releasing, he scanned the woods, hoping to catch a glimpse of Clara—for encouragement.
But she was nowhere to be seen.
Then he heard a birdcall—one she'd taught him. A signal: I'm here. Don't be afraid.
The birdcall faded. Now there was only the rustling of leaves and the sound of the deer nibbling.
And then Adam realized—with awe—that Clara had become one with the forest. Without her voice, there wasn't a trace of her presence.
If I could do that… maybe I could hunt a black bear too?
Adam took a long, slow breath, aimed for the deer's neck, and released.
Whoosh—the arrow flew through the trees, brushing past some leaves with a faint rustle.
But deer had exceptional hearing.
It bolted.
The arrow grazed its antlers and flew past.
So close!
Frustrated, Adam drew a second arrow and gave chase, firing another shot toward the deer's hindquarters.
Unsurprisingly, it missed entirely.
But the prey was right there—how could he let it go?
He ditched the bow and grabbed his slingshot, sprinting after it.
Then, suddenly, the deer let out a shrill cry and turned—running straight back toward him.
Adam was confused.
And then a huge brown shadow leapt out from the underbrush and pounced!
(End of Chapter)
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