In Blackened Maws

iii // introductions

Archer was sitting in the same position as he was the day prior, leaning against his little campsite's tree and staring absentmindedly into the flames before him. Thankfully, he still had his matches, and, even better, he had some now-garbage wrappers and leftover logs to last the fire the remainder of the day.

Besides him was his map—crinkled, but legible. He'd looked at it for awhile, and managed to find some possible locations, though after staring at it for an hour or so, he had to set it down. He still had a general idea as to where the stream was, and that was all he needed.

As he watched the flames flicker in the afternoon light, his mind wandered back to the events of that day.

After meeting the...creature, he stood there awhile, making sure it was gone before moving. And, once his nerves were as calm as they could get, he moved quickly, refilling his water bottle (he was happy he brought one of the metal ones) before snatching his pack and anything else he'd brought with him, even if some of those things had been ruined beyond repair.

Unfortunately, most of his pack was trashed, with gaping, blackened holes dotting its surface. Regardless, it was still intact enough to store his compass, phone, water bottle, and matches. He left out the map, though, fearful of what the inky substance would do if it got in contact with it.

The sludge marking the path he'd taken to get to that river was starting to fade, much to his surprise. Also a bit to his delight, since that meant it would probably fade from his torn pack sometime soon. Nevertheless, he knew he had to move relatively quickly, if his former luck on taking random paths based on memory was anything to go by.

As he walked back, he turned his gaze away from the sludge and more to his surroundings, if only to help him better find his exact location. In doing so, however, he made a miraculous discovery.

It was so tiny that he was relatively shocked he even saw them in the first place, hanging from the leafy branches of a bush. But, lo-and-behold, as he bent down to take a closer look at the plump purple-black things, he was gifted with wild blackberries. Lots of them, too.

Needless to say, Archer started to cry.

At first, he feasted. No point in saving them for a special occasion, since this would probably be the best he got until he finally found himself in the loving comfort of his grandparents' home. He didn't eat all of them, though, even if his mildly-grumbling stomach seemed to demand more. He grabbed a couple handfuls and shoved them in one of the empty, nearly sludge-free chip bags he'd picked up along the way.

With sustenance in his bag and a newfound glee in his heart, Archer continued. The path itself was nearly gone with the noontide sunlight, though, thankfully, he managed to find his way fairly easily.

Thus leading to the present. After starting up a fire, Archer began to formulate a plan. He'd probably have to stay at his makeshift camp for the remainder of the day, but now that he knew he was near a lake, not to mention knew some of the physical features of where his spot and the river met, he could find where he was. Then, finally, he'd go back down to the stream, following the rushing current to escape the natural prison he'd been ensnared in.

Archer was glad to have a break, though. He was just more...on-edge? No, that wasn't the word for it. Archer was relatively confident he could find his way home, even if he did only have a bagful of food and a day's worth of water on him. His issues all rested with that creature.

It was following him, that was for sure. He'd seen its sludge since it he'd gotten lost, and it sure didn't seem like it'd been a coincidence that it stuck around after eating his food. Why, though, was it still hanging around? If it wanted to eat him, why hadn't it done so already?