Enemy Mind

Enemy in Need

After putting the floor into my new home I made a bed frame. It was hard and basic but now I was off the ground about two feet. That's two feet away from the cold, two feet closer to luxury. I then took on the task of cutting down a large tree.

Once I did I then cut the logs up by roughly two feet. I rolled them back to my shelter. When bored or not willing to do anything else I would use a rock to grind on one side. Slowly I carved a large wooden bowl. Bowls that would stand up on their own!

Meanwhile I put more wooden poles at the front. I was making it almost weather proof. I removed the middle panel in my floor for a fire pit. Not happy with it I got two more panels and curved them to form a circle. I then worked them around my fire pit. I forced them into the ground until they only stook out a half a foot. Except for the side facing the wooden wall. Just as an extra precaution I made it an actual foot up. I would hate myself if I made a fire and I caught my home on fire.

I fashioned two logs into nightstands beside my bed. Then I rolled two large logs into my shelter. Took me over half the day but I did it. I placed them a respectable ways away from the fire pit and cut them into a bench. I left the sides to serve as arm rests even. It could sit up to three or four people each.

The pilots chair was moved in front of fire pit between it and my bed. I of course would sit in the pilots chair. Those who visit could sit on my wooden benches and be happy I even made them. Then again, who the hell would ever visit?

As spring turned to summer Stan started to wonder off more and more. Everytime he came back I would nag him as if he was a husband coming home late. I knew he was going to just go away and never come back. Maybe it was for the best. He could go off and be with his kind and create a herd. I wouldn't have to migrate with him then.

Then I could go hunting for some meat. I hadn't because of the herd then him. How could I kill something around them? It felt wrong to do so. I was afraid to make them skittish of me. What would they think of me if they saw me killing something?

A small voice in my head was screaming at me. Here I was caring was a wild animal thought of me. I shouldn't care about those kinds of things. It was bordering on insanity!

For a week I struggled to cut off my feeling for the Wooly Stompers. Then, Stan left one day and didn't come back. I waited three days. Even musing to myself that he might be caught in traffic as a joke. Then the fourth morning alone came and it was official. Stan had left me and started a herd.

It was for the best. He wanted to wonder about all day, I wanted to stay here and work on my home. He wanted to whack me with branches and steal my shoe, I wanted to work. We just wanted two very different things in life. I cried for him none the less. I was going to miss my friend. He grew up around me and stayed with me for over two months.

For awhile I lost my energy. I felt so alone and sort of abandoned. I guess I got depressed of something. When I finally went out I walked to the river. There I just stared looking at my reflection.

In the UNSC I had my brown hair short. Now it was going down to my shoulders. I had tanned quite noticably and gained a few more scars. My suit was torn up. Now my pants were crudely cut shorts. My to had become a tank top. My boots where wearing down to basically nothing. There was a hole in the toe of my right boot. My body was as fit as it has ever been. Blue eyes looked at me in the water but I didn't recognize them. It's been about a year now and I have changed.

I collected fruit and returned home to make a wooden spear. Winter will come, when it does I'll need meat. That ment I needed to hunt. At least I can start experimenting with hides. Perhaps I will make rugs, and better bedding with them. I could hang them on the inside of my wood wall. That way it'll stop the cold air from coming in.