"Aww, fuck." I mutter. But I'm not too surprised. I already knew fate was going to spite me. Because things are never easy for me.
So not only was he still guarding the path that seemed to be the easiest to take up the mountain. But he was also on higher ground now than I am.
Positioned on a large rock overlooking his territory. Much more attentive now than before. Possibly having gotten spooked by something down below. In the forest. Or maybe he somehow noticed my presence.
But either way, he was much more careful now. Looking around attentively. I actually almost walked into his field of view. But thanks to knowing where he was, I managed to retreat behind a rock.
Not that it really helped me or made things better. I was kind of stuck, actually. He was looking in my direction. Possibly already having caught on to my presence.
Trapping me. I couldn't move away from this rock without catching his attention. So left with no other choice, I slide my backpack off my shoulders carefully and quietly. Grab my spear tightly with both hands. And prepare myself for combat.
Taking a deep, calming breath and going over the way Skjálfhirta fought once more. Reminding myself that he will charge me, and I will have to dodge or block the charge at all costs if I don't want to lose my life.
I take another deep breath. Open my eyes and turn around. Stepping out of the shadow of the rock that had shielded me and rising to my full height. I meet his gaze challengingly while pointing my spear right at him.
The Bucks immediate reaction was to step back. Probably surprised to suddenly see a human with a spear in his territory. But his surprise doesn't last long.
The Buck steps forward again and huffs challengingly. Stomping his foot down to reaffirm his claim on these lands. To show me to back off.
But I can't. And neither can he. So we stare each other down. My gaze meets his. Unflinchingly.
Forcing him to act. His incredible agility is on full display as he leaps off the rock towards me. Bounding over rocks and the snow-covered ground in big leaps.
My answer to this is to plant my feet firmly on the ground while I hold my spear up in front of me. Ready to meet his charge head-on. Since I can't hope to match his speed or agility.
However, the buck is no fool. Of course, he doesn't just run into my spear and die. That would have been too easy. But he doesn't slow down either. Instead, just before he runs into me, he changes direction.
Jumping around the rock to my right, which I was previously hiding behind. Doing a full loop around it and attempting to ram my side. To skewer me while avoiding my spear.
I manage to dodge forward to escape his charge. But our legs get tangled up because I didn't get far enough away. And I end up tripping. Falling on the ground. "Hmmmm." I suck in air as I land on my right shoulder. The pain I had almost forgotten came back with a vengeance.
The Buck, in the meantime, only stumbled slightly. Recovering much faster than I do. He turns around and lowers his head as he charges forward. To attempt to skewer me against the rock.
I respond by getting up as fast as possible. Trying to bring my spear up against him. But my right arm hurts so much that I can't lift it. So in a snap decision, I let go of the spear with my right hand and clamped it into my armpit while I put my back against the rock behind me.
In hopes that it will support my hold enough to stab clean through the charging buck. But just as before, the Buck changes direction in the last second. My spear only grazed him on the side because of my inability to turn fast enough.
But the exchange is not equal. Unlike my spear, which is one straight point, his antlers actually extend sideways and have multiple points. This gives him a much wider area of attack.
And I suffer for it. The only reason I don't die is that I instinctively turn my head to follow where he is going and jerk my head back the second I feel his antlers dig into my skin.
But too little, too late. Three lines of fire scrape across the side of my face. And my left eye goes white. Then red. Blood fills half of my vision as I stagger back.
There is no time to check how bad my wounds are, though. The Buck was already preparing for the next attack. The scrape on his side is not bothering him at all as he jumps through the snow to find the next angle of attack.
I barely have enough time to find my footing before he is almost on me again. The spear was held in my shaking left hand. Clamped in my right armpit. My stance is probably looking terrible.
But it's the best I've got. The best I could come up with in such a short amount of time. But I slip before he even reaches me. Suddenly, I no longer saw my opponent but looked up into the sky.
Landing on my back painfully. Rocks dig into my back as I slide down the side of the mountain for a few seconds.
My descent only stops once I hit a larger rock on my way down, and I bang my head on it. My head swims from the impact. My ears ring. And I feel like I'm going to throw up at any second.
And then I see a blurry silhouette charge towards me. The Buck. Coming to finish me off. But I won't let him. Not without at least hurting him one more time.
Perhaps because of the shock or adrenaline, I overcame the pain in my right arm. Grab my spear with both hands and jam it up and forward. A huge impact, like a car running into me, jerks my head back against the rock, and everything goes dark.
My eyes flutter open a moment later. Even though a part of me wishes they hadn't. Everything hurt. My face. My head. My back. My right hand. My legs. Everything.
However, there was one good thing. Because I wasn't the only one hurt. No. The Buck was hurt, too. Or rather. He was about to die.
My last desperate stab landed true. Piercing him in the neck. Straight through. Maybe because he wasn't expecting me to attack again. Or maybe because he was going too fast downhill. But this time he didn't manage to dodge.
And it cost him everything. He was still standing. Jerkily moving his head. Trembling. But before long, he collapses. Right on top of me. But I don't care all that much. I was already hurting everywhere, so what did a little buck landing on me matter?
Nothing. So I take this moment to breathe. Relief floods my body that at least the immediate danger is gone.
But I also know that I can't just continue to lie here. Letting him bleed all over my chest. I had to move. Get him off me. Check how bad things are for me.
`Easier said than done thou.` This time, it had nothing to do with this body being unathletic, that I take forever to get up. I'm hurt. Pretty badly.
I was bruised up. Of course. But bruises were the least of my problems. I had cuts and scrapes all over my body. Somewhere in the scuffle, I broke the thumb on my right hand. Which now stands away at an unnatural angle.
And of course, there were the three deep cuts on my face. Just touching them was painful. On top of that, if I closed my right eye, everything went dark. Like something was very wrong with my left eye.
I don't dare touch it. Not wanting to aggravate any potential injuries if I could avoid it. Instead, I try to find something to check my reflection. Brushing some snow away with my feet to maybe find some ice to check my reflection in it.
Of course, in reality, it's just me playing for time. Refusing to acknowledge the truth. Because it's likely I just lost my eye. And if I haven't, then it's at least badly injured. And I'm potentially hundreds of kilometers away from anyone who can help me.
Eventually, though, I take another deep breath and accept the possibility. A voice in the back of my head is screaming at me to accept what happened and move.
Because I had a lot to do. Like doing my best to treat all my injuries. And then I'll have to work on finding shelter for the night. And if time allows it, I would also like to take the buck with me. Bleed him out and maybe get some meat off him.
But one thing at a time. I had to handle my injuries first. Even if most of them weren't bleeding a lot, I still couldn't risk getting dirt into any wounds and possibly catching an infection.
So I try to walk up the slope to get my backpack. Swaying with every step. Gritting my teeth. My whole body screams and trembles. My knees hit the snow twice in just ten meters. But through sheer stubborn determination, I make it up to where my backpack is.
I collapse to my knees in front of it. But it's alright. I can work with this. My left hand works to get my backpack open. I retrieved the spare clothing I had stuffed into my bag. Using the first thing I could grab, and press it against my face to stem the bleeding of my worst wounds.
"Tsssss." I suck in air between shallow breaths. To stop me from bleeding out, I need to tie the clothing around my face. Which should be easy. If I could use both hands. But I can't.
So left with no other choice, I put my face against the rock in front of me. To hold the clothing in place while I grab another piece to tie around my head. I use my left hand as best as I can to tie the cloth to my face.
My hand trembles all the while. And it continues to tremble as I tend to my other injuries. I divest myself of my torn clothes. I use some pristine snow to clean up my wounds. And then used strips of cloth to form impromptu bandages.
Working on my wounds long after the sun has already gone down. Failing to achieve all of the goals that I wanted to achieve. But at this point, I'm so tired and delirious that I don't even care anymore.
I just fall asleep right where I am after finally finishing treating my injuries and redressing in new clothes. Sprinkles of red are visible in the snow all around me. A clear sign of the aftermath of my first real battle in this world.