In a strange world as a Doppelganger

Chapter 8

The pain was only of fraction compared to yesterday. Still swollen and sore, sure, but no longer in a constant pulsing pain. Do I dare make my way to the river? It feels like I almost have to, I need water and food. 

The river, just as expected, was nowhere near safe. Frogs are everywhere, up and down the stream, searching and keeping watch. Staying on my side of the river I walk, crouched down in the bushes, along the treeline in hopes of finding the point where their territory ends. 

I was not at all prepared for how strongly the frogs would react the events of two days ago. Some increase in their numbers, sure I'd get that, but this? Whoever is in charge over there must be pretty paranoid.

Almost an hour of walking before their numbers start thinning out, there's now a good distance between the last two frogs I have seen. Just a bit further and I should be OK to leave the trees.

This is the farthest I have ever been downriver by a long-shot. One day I'll go further but for now this will do. I step out and carefully get near to the water. Always looking around to make sure there is no immediate threat. I quickly cup some water in my hands and bring it to my mouth for a drink. Quick look around and then another drink. Finishing up by doing my best to wash the small wound on my head.

I would have liked it very much to just go straight into the forest and leave the river far behind for now. However, I have no clue where I am and all of my guiding marks are back where I started.

There are so many frogs about. I can easily count upwards of 20 or so. They don't stay in larger groups than two or three but always within shouting distance of one another. Paranoid and tactical, that's what their leader is like.

Plus side is that they don't seem to cross the river. That's a bit curious. What if there is something on this side that they are scared off, something I haven't run into yet? There's a thought I am not enjoying.

This is not my day, at all. With the river behind me and a pouch full of nuts, I had planned to work on the burrow for the rest of the day. The goblin scuttling around by the hole forced me to rethink my planned activities. There is a very clear curiosity in the goblins behavior; it's not acting hostile but just inspecting the hole. I need to get closer to it, close enough to be able to intervene if it goes into combat with the rat. Following the trees I move in a circle along the clearing. 

I am not sure how close I want to get, this thing could spot me easily if I got any closer. There is maybe 20 feet between me and hole. If I went for it I could probably catch the goblin off-guard while it has its back turned. My clawed fingers tighten their grasp on my knife, the one I stole from what I now guess is this goblins friend. Is it alone or not? I through my head around to check the forest behind me and manage to avoid the sharpened end of a stick being thrust towards me. 

Instinctively, I jump backwards to create distance between myself and the attacker. In doing so I expose myself to the goblin in the clearing. There is now one in front and one behind me, not good. With the knife in my right hand I stiffen the fingers of my left and prepare to go on a full out offense. I shriek at the one by the hole and throw myself at it. The goblin holds up a jagged and rusty blade with both of its hands. Our knives collide, the force of my lunge causing the goblin to take a step back. My free hand rakes it across the body of the small creature. No time to waste! I turn around and swing out with the blade. The sharp stick of the other goblin is flung from its grip and it grabs its hand in a cradling manner. 

A moment passes where no one moves. If one of them moves even an inch toward me I plan on going for the other one to throw them off. The knife wielder seems more experienced than the one who had the stick. I can tell that it's trying to figure me out. Stick-goblin takes a step towards its lost weapon. Knife-goblin is not an idiot. It was prepared for me and our blades lock against each other again. The difference this time is that the goblin has angled itself in such a way that it'd hard to hit with my free, left, hand. Time to improvise. I shoot my tongue out, aiming for the eyes of the knife-goblin. I miss badly but the goblin freaks out nonetheless. A small break in its posture is enough and I sink my knife into its chest. 

"Aaargh!" or should I say: Shrieek? 

Stick-goblin got me in the back of my shoulder. For a moment I can't even see because of the pain. I feel the stick get pulled out with a jerk. I am not looking forward to more days of pain. Just when I was starting to feel better. The goblin comes for another poke at me. I can tell that it's scared of me; it's trembling. I bat the stick to the side and step in really close to it. Stretching to my full height I am towering above it with twice its height. It's immobilized with fear it seems. Poor thing, but I cannot let it get away. I make it quick and as painless as I can. 

Considering the state I am in, it's a wonder I managed to drag the bodies away into the woods. I am almost convinced that they found my markings and used those to track me to the clearing. Can't use that method anymore from now on. Half an hour or so I drag the small bodies behind me before I start digging a hole. It's not deep but it will at least buy me time; I hope.