Zento: The Prehistoric journey

Chapter 28: The demon girl

Ragna remained calm even as the girl's teeth sank into his arm. Her bite was fierce, but he sensed no malice—only fear and mistrust. He ignored the sharp pain and focused on securing the bandage around her wounded shoulder. She struggled against him, growling like a cornered animal, but he held firm, wrapping the leaf tightly around the injury.

"AARGHH!"
"GRAAHH!"
"Grrr..."
And then, silence.

Gradually, the tension in her body ebbed. She released his arm but continued to glare at him, her eyes sharp with suspicion. Ragna sat back on his heels, wiping the sweat from his brow. He rummaged through his bag and pulled out a strip of dried meat, holding it out to her.

She stared at him, her nose twitching as she caught the scent of the food. Without warning, she lunged, nearly taking his fingers along with the meat. She devoured it quickly, her hostility softening just a fraction. Noticing her gaze linger on his bag, Ragna offered another piece, then another, until her hunger was sated.

As her demeanor shifted, Ragna couldn't help but compare her to Woffu. Both responded to food, their wariness easing with each bite. The thought amused him—was she so different from the young wolf after all?

The girl's newfound openness surprised him further when she reached into a pouch at her waist and pulled out a small stone. She handed it to him with a broad, toothy smile, babbling in a language he didn't understand.

"Blahhgoh shifahbaba," she said cheerfully.

Ragna took the stone, his brow furrowed in confusion. Unsure what to do, he slipped it into his bag. The exchange left him puzzled. She was injured, yet spirited and strangely outgoing. Her chatter reminded him of the orphans back in his village—children who had faced hardship but still brimmed with life.

Now came the dilemma. If he left her here, injured and reeking of blood, predators would find her within hours. Yet taking her back to his cave posed its own risks. What if her people came looking for her? The elders' warnings about the demons echoed in his mind.

He decided to walk away.

But he hadn't gone far when the sound of rustling caught his attention. Turning, he saw the girl crawling after him, her legs dragging uselessly behind her. She clawed at the ground, her determination plain despite her injury. Her action tugged at his heart unexpectedly.

Ragna sighed. Leaving her wasn't an option anymore. Returning to her, he hoisted her onto his shoulder like a sack of grain. She thrashed and yelled in protest, her fists beating weakly against his back, but he didn't stop. Eventually, she gave up, settling into resigned silence.

As they walked, her babbling resumed, the nonsensical sounds filling the quiet forest. Ragna couldn't understand her, but her tone was lively, almost cheerful. She didn't seem to fear him anymore.

The forest, however, grew eerily quiet. Ragna's senses sharpened. The stillness was unnatural, and he knew what it meant. Blood had drawn predators, and they were close. The girl's torn and bloodstained clothes carried a strong scent, one that would attract every beast in the area.

Quickening his pace, he pushed through the undergrowth, the cave now in sight. Relief was short-lived. A sudden chill ran down his spine, and he dove to the side just as a massive shadow streaked past him.

Instinct kicked in. He sprinted for the cave, dodging another lunge from the creature. In one swift motion, he threw the girl onto the ledge outside the cave and climbed after her, pulling up the makeshift ladder of vines just in time.

The predator—a creature resembling an oversized cat—paced below. Its body was unnervingly long, with lean, sinewy legs that seemed too strong for their lanky appearance. The beast's eyes glowed faintly in the dim light, and its low growls sent shivers through Ragna.

From within the cave, both Ragna and the beast could hear the commotion of other predators nearby, drawn by the same scent. The cat-like creature hesitated, its ears twitching, before slinking away into the shadows, unwilling to risk a confrontation with rivals.

Inside the safety of the cave, the girl sat wide-eyed, her earlier bravado replaced by palpable fear. Ragna wasted no time, carrying her to his fur-lined bed. He inspected her further, noticing that her ankles were swollen and bruised. Taking out another set of leaves, he began wrapping them carefully.

As he worked, the girl's voice broke the silence. She chattered animatedly, gesturing at her surroundings. Her attention shifted to the small well in the corner of the cave. Before Ragna could react, she crawled over to it and plunged her face into the water, drinking deeply.

Ragna watched, bemused. It wasn't the method of drinking that bothered him—it was how wild and unrefined her actions seemed. She reminded him of the stories the elders told, of how their own ancestors were once like animals before learning to build, craft, and think. Perhaps her tribe had not changed in the same way.

The thought lingered as he turned back to his task. Something gnawed at the edge of his mind, a vague sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd forgotten something.

And then it hit him. Woffu.

The little wolf wasn't here. Ragna cursed under his breath, realizing his mistake. He'd told Woffu to stay, but the wolf hadn't yet mastered the command. Retracing the events, he remembered leaving Woffu at the site where he found the girl.

His stomach tightened. Woffu wouldn't have stayed put for long, especially with danger nearby. The wolf must have fled when the boar's scent reached him, too frightened to follow Ragna's trail.

Regret washed over him. Woffu was alone in the forest, surrounded by predators. And Ragna had to find him