The Survivor Becomes a Dungeon

Cinco POV

Cinco's ears twitched and flicked at each crunch of grass and fallen leaves beneath their feet. The twilight of the setting sun cast long shadows before them as they made their way back toward the longhouse. He glances behind him, looking over the half-elf tween as they make their way along, offering him a small smile. "So… Mishill, are you doing okay back there? Do you need a break?" He asked kindly, knowing how hard the boy had worked today.

The young half-elf looks over to Cinco, their gaze having been looking over the surrounding treeline before shrugging as he adjusts his share of the load of small animals Cinco's traps had snared. "I'm fine, Hunter Cinco." He offered a small smile as his gaze wandered once more. "I'm used to walking lots, but walking in the city is very different from walking in the woods… At least that's what my legs say." He mused lightly before huffing softly as he picked up the pace a little more.

Cinco chuckles softly at that, nodding with understanding. "It's the other way around for me; the woods are like my home away from home. No matter where I am, I can find my way around. The city, however… The noise, the smell, the crowd, I never really found my place there." He glanced back at Mishill once again. "You say you walked a lot? What were you up to?" He asked, hoping to get Mishill's mind off of the walking and maybe pass through time.

Mishill tilted his head side to side thoughtfully. "I… I hated the church orphanage. It was always too stuffy, too neat, and too strict." He said as he slowly shook his head. "The way they talk is so weird too. How cleanliness is next to godliness, and how we must not sully our hands with the taint of beasts."

Cinco's ears twitched thoughtfully, not having heard that particular verse before, though it's not like he was overly zealous in his religious beliefs.

Mishill continued as he scratched the back of his pointed ear. "We didn't even have animals at the church orphanage, so I don't get that one anyways." He looked around at the orange and purpling leaves and brush. "Most of the kids get raised to be servants of the church; anyone with real smarts or talent gets to be acolytes or maybe paladins if they're lucky." He said with a dismissive scoff, kicking at a stone he spotted in his path and watching it skip along the leaves before smacking against a tree. "As for me, I want to be an adventurer like my parents, explore the land, and help people wherever possible."

Cinco nodded intently, his ears twitching some more as he caught the calls of some birds in the distance. "That's pretty interesting, but…" He cast a glance back at the half-elf before smirking a bit. "But that doesn't tell me why you walk a lot."

The young half-elf flashed a charming little smile as he looked up at Cinco before looking around some more. "I was a courier; I ran messages for the priests, merchants, barkeeps, innkeeps… Anyone and everyone that wants things to be delivered fast and discreetly, ask for Mishill." He gushed, proud of his little advertisement, though he looked distracted, his shoulders sagging a little as he watched the back of Cinco's head. "I saw something I shouldn't have. The bartender at the Huneyhill Hut was sleeping with the Matron at the public orphanage, so I was delivering a letter of some kind to her."

Cinco's tail poofed, and his ears stood tall at that little bit of gossip as he glanced back at the kid. "Really? Those two? I would never have guessed." However, he dropped his amused smile after noticing Mishill's expression as the boy continued.

"I uh… I saw something I shouldn't have…" He said more softly, slowing to a stop as he looked to the ground before looking up at Cinco's face. His brows furrowed with apparent frustration. "I saw these girls getting grabbed by these people in black clothes just a few streets away from the orphanage. It was a few of the beastkin girls that are back at the Longhouse with the others.." He explained, gesturing vaguely ahead of them as if to gesture at the Longhouse. "I… I wanted to help… I tried to be the kind of hero my parents were… But I couldn't do anything…" He said quietly before looking back up at Cinco. "I couldn't stop them, I shouted, punched, kicked, and bit… But all it took was one of those adults, a hit to my head, and the next thing I knew, I was waking up in chains with the others." He sniffed a bit, his tiny fist clenched and trembling before he began rubbing his eyes with his arm before shaking his head when he started walking again.

Cinco watched after the boy before following up behind him and patting their back. "Hey… What do you think about me teaching you how to use a bow? It'll be the first step into becoming an adventurer like you wanted. We can see if Woody can find us a good piece of wood for a bow, and we can put together some training arrows for you."

Mishill couldn't help but offer a bit of a smile, looking back up at Cinco before nodding a little. "T-That sounds nice, Hunter Cinco… Thank you."

Cinco smiled in response, though his expression dropped while his ears went haywire, flicking and twitching in various directions before looking down at Mishill. "Drop the meat. Run."

Mishill looked confused, his expression stuck between a smile and being stunned. "W-what?"

Cinco shrugged off his share of the game, grabbing at Mishill's arm before tossing away his meat. "Run!" As soon as they took off, Cinco could hear the howls in the distance. There were a lot of them, and they were close.

"C-cinco, what is that? What's going on?!" Mishill cried out, looking behind them and then looking back at Cinco.

Cinco looked back at Mishill, and he knew then that they would both die if they stayed at the pace they were going. "Wolves, I don't know what kind…" He said breathily before looking around and then looking up before looking back down to Mishill. "I'll come back for you, I swear… No matter what, don't come down."

"Come down? W-what do you-?" But before he could finish his question, Mishill was hoisted by his waist.

Cinco took a breath before using his powerful legs and launching himself up into the air, ascending past the lower branches and tossing the boy onto a sturdy limb of the tree as Cinco dropped down to the ground. "Stay!" Cinco demanded before looking at the wolves, three launching out from the brush and coming into view. He waved his arms before whistling at them. "Over here, you mangy mongrels!" He taunted as he shrugged off his bow and notched an arrow, letting one sail as it found purchase in the first wolf, sending it crashing into the ground while four more came into view after the first group.

Mishill clung to the tree, watching uselessly as Cinco led the wolves away.

Now freed from the burden of having to watch over the life of another and only fending for himself, Cinco does his best to put some distance between himself and the wolves. He knows for a fact that he won't lose them; he's already taken one of their lives. Notching another arrow, he aims and fires off another shot, but it goes wide, burying itself in the dirt as the wolves close in. "Dammit… Damn, damn it…!" He cursed, notching another one and sending it as he buried an arrow in its eye. With that, he turned and ran, booking it as he led the pack away from the Longhouse; if he died, hopefully, the wolves would find another trail and go away from the others.

20 minutes later

The sun has already set, and Cinco's senses are in overdrive as the moons and stars barely illuminate his surroundings. His back against a tree, his body sore and aching from how hard he's pushed himself. He's already had too many close encounters, but he's lucky he has taken most of the wolves down already. The main problem now is that one of the remaining wolves is the pack alpha, bigger, deadlier, and thicker skinned than the rest. It also doesn't help that the damned things are spitter wolves, venomous bastards with their own ranged attacks. His arrows have been unable to pierce its hide, and he's down to his last two. "This is it… Dammit… I don't want to go…" The howls bellowed out again; they were close, they found him again.

He forced himself to push away from the tree as he ran to the right. He shakily notched another arrow; if he was going to die, it would be with an empty quiver. He panted heavily; he could hear the breathing and snarling of the wolves over his breath as he ran harder and faster. He suddenly took a sharp left around the next tree in order to try to complicate his trail. He forced himself to pick up the pace, though his legs were shaking too much, each step made him weaker, and the wolves closed in.

Cinco glanced back, trying to gauge the distance between him and the wolves he couldn't see. It was in that next moment that his legs betrayed him, he tripped over something and he'll probably never know what it was. What he does know is that he feels much colder all of a sudden, yet the fur around his stomach is suddenly hot as he grunts and groans before rolling over on his back. "Damn…" He gasped heavily, clutching his stomach as his fingers blindly found the shaft. "My own arrow…" His heart pounds in his ears, the thumping lining up with the thuds of the wolves closing in on him. "Not… Not like this…!" He cried out, gritting his teeth as he could hear the snarling breaths so closely now. "H-help me!"

In the next moment, a thundering roar sounded out from afar, and he could hear the howls and yelps of wolves, the ripping and tearing of flesh as a fight between beasts echoed out. The wind whirls around him, he can vaguely make out the flaps of wings, but his vision is starting to blur.

"Ya did good holding out for as long as you did, Cinco. Boyo is fine, and Basti will take care of the remaining beasts… You, all you need to do is stay alive. The herbalist is on her way." The being tweeted out.