Zento: The Prehistoric journey

Chapter 29: Woffu's little adventure

The little wolf, Woffu, froze in terror as the massive boar barreled in his direction. Without a second thought, he turned tail and ran, his tiny legs carrying him as fast as they could. His breaths came quick and shallow as he darted through the underbrush, heart pounding like a drum. After what felt like an eternity, Woffu stumbled upon a small hole beneath the roots of a tree. Without hesitation, he wriggled his way in, his fur scraping against the rough bark.

The hollow was just big enough for him to curl up. Coiling his small body into a ball, Woffu tucked his tail under him and pressed his ears flat against his head. He kept his wide eyes fixed on the opening, every nerve alert for signs of danger. Time crawled by, and when no threat appeared, exhaustion overtook his fear. He drifted into an uneasy sleep.

When he awoke, the gnawing pang of hunger drove him to action. Slowly, he crept out of the hole, his nose twitching as it caught the faint scent of food. His steps were cautious, his ears swiveling at every rustle in the forest. Suddenly, the bushes ahead quivered. Woffu froze, his fur standing on end.

A moment later, something burst from the foliage, crashing toward him with heavy, thudding steps. It was big—much bigger than Woffu. Panic surged through him, and he darted away, weaving between trees to outmaneuver the predator. His tiny body darted left and right, zigzagging through the underbrush until he stumbled upon another beast.

This one was feasting on fresh prey, but its head snapped up the moment Woffu appeared. It growled low and menacing, muscles tensing for a pounce. Woffu didn't wait to see what would happen next. He veered sharply to the side and bolted, the new predator roaring in frustration. As fate would have it, the two beasts collided in their pursuit, their snarls and yelps filling the forest as they turned on each other in confusion.

Woffu didn't stop to watch the chaos unfold. His only instinct was to flee. He ran until his lungs burned and his legs threatened to give out. Another rustling bush blocked his path, and he skidded to a halt, only to find a small creature with large hind legs and a long tail staring at him. It resembled a squirrel but with an unnervingly sharp gaze.

Woffu considered standing his ground for once—it was smaller than him, after all. But the creature bared its teeth and lunged at him. Woffu yelped and dodged, bounding to the side. Though the creature was clumsy and slow, he wasn't about to test his odds. He bolted again, leaving the strange beast behind.

Running was Woffu's signature move, and it had never failed him before.

Eventually, he came across a small hill with another hole tucked beneath it. This one seemed promising. Forcing his body through the narrow entrance, he emerged into a shallow burrow. Inside, he found a group of rabbits scurrying deeper into their warren. Instinctively, Woffu gave chase, but the tunnel narrowed too quickly for him to follow. Defeated, he settled in the entrance to rest.

The scent of blood hit his nose soon after, sharp and tantalizing. His stomach growled in response, and he poked his head out of the burrow. Not far away, a predator lay dying, its abdomen torn open and a trail of blood marking its path. The beast he had encountered earlier had met its end.

Woffu hesitated, his cowardice warring with his hunger. But the smell of fresh meat was too tempting. Steeling himself, he crept toward the carcass and began to eat, the taste reinvigorating him with every bite. Yet the meal was short-lived. The distant sound of growls and snapping branches reminded him of the dangers lurking nearby.

The little wolf abandoned the feast, retreating once more into the trees. He didn't go back to the safety of the burrow, his instincts clouded by panic. But as he ran, a familiar scent stopped him in his tracks.

Ragna.

The smell was faint but unmistakable. It gave Woffu the courage to push forward, his tiny legs moving faster with each step. The fear still lingered, but this time, it didn't control him. He followed the trail through twists and turns until, finally, he saw it—the cave.

Outside the cave stood Ragna. And beside him, a sent Woffu didn't recognize. But Woffu didn't care. With a yelp of relief, he sprinted toward his guardian, leaping into his arms.

Ragna turned just in time to catch the wolf, his expression a mix of surprise and mild annoyance. He hadn't been particularly worried about Woffu's absence—he'd grown up in a village where no one cared about him, so his perspective on companionship was distant, almost indifferent. Yet as the little wolf nuzzled against him, he felt a flicker of warmth.

Carrying Woffu, Ragna returned to the cave where the girl sat waiting. Night was falling, and the forest was no place to linger after dark. As the last rays of light faded, Ragna resolved to rest and explore again tomorrow. He glanced at Woffu, who was already curling up beside the girl, his courage temporarily restored in the safety of Ragna's presence.

For now, the cave was quiet. But Ragna knew this fragile peace wouldn't last long.