Wanderlust Beastkin, Beauty and the Beastkin-Chapter 19: Camping Alone in an Otherworldly Forest

As I ventured deeper into the woods, I aimed for the direction of the village—at least, I hoped I was on the right track. The air grew colder, and darkness began to creep in. My senses heightened, and I could have sworn I spotted glowing eyes watching me from the shadows.

As I directed my flashlight toward what I thought were eyes, I was met with nothing but a tangle of greenery. As I gazed at the lush greenery, a frown crept onto my face; perhaps I was more fatigued than I had thought. Was my imagination simply getting the best of me? I swung my torch from side to side, and to my surprise, it seemed like some of the plants were actually recoiling from the light. Surely, I couldn’t be imagining this, could I? There had to be a boundary to the kinds of threats lurking in this world—maybe I was just being overly cautious. I blinked a few times and gave my head a little shake.

"I must be seeing things; I’m utterly worn out, famished, and have been on edge for what feels like an eternity."

Strolling through the woods, I couldn’t shake the image of a colossal spider creeping up behind me, and I found myself mentally rehearsing my defense strategy. Would pepper spray even faze a giant spider? They have so many eyes, and I think that hot peppers are toxic to nearly everything except humans, though I question where I actually am. The crumbled bricks that are in the same location my home should have been hint that I might be in some bizarre alternate version of Earth. Or maybe it’s just a coincidence. freewёbnoνel.com

The woods grew increasingly dark, and every rustle sent me jumping. It felt as if unseen eyes were tracking my every move, lurking just beyond the reach of my flickering torchlight. I had hoped to reach that village I had glimpsed from the cliff, but luck was not on my side, and hunger was starting to make me feel weak. Camping out in the woods was the last thing I wanted—who knows what creatures might be hiding among the trees? But with no other options, I began searching for a spot that could offer some semblance of security, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before continuing my journey at dawn. From above, that village had seemed so close.

As I scanned my surroundings with a watchful eye, I stumbled upon a quaint little clearing. There, I discovered an arrangement of hefty stones leaning against one another, and remnants of what seemed to be an ancient firepit. The makeshift shelter, crafted from enormous flat stones, was impressive—each slab likely weighed a ton or more. The sheer thought of someone managing to lift such behemoths left me in awe; each piece was as thick as my arm and as long as my body. They were arranged with two on each side, two at the back, and topped with two slimmer stones to form a roof. Dried plant clumps were wedged between the slabs, while the floor of this rocky haven was blanketed in dried grasses and a neat pile of small, desiccated logs. I couldn’t help but feel a rush of gratitude for this unexpected find, even though it was clear that this spot had seen its share of visitors. Along the path from the woods to the village, berry bushes flourished, and now I had uncovered this rustic shelter, a testament to someone’s ingenuity.

Curiosity piqued, I prodded the grass with a slender stick, hoping to uncover any lurking critters. To my surprise, I only encountered some pill bugs—though they were the size of baseballs, which was a tad unsettling. What other monstrous creatures might inhabit this world? Giant mosquitoes? Enormous centipedes? The thought of creepy crawlies isn’t exactly my cup of tea.

After I finally convinced all the pesky bugs to leave, I got to work pulling out some dried logs and arranging them into a teepee shape, topping it off with a bit of dried grass. With a playful kiss to my pink lighter, I lit the dried grass on fire. The grass fizzled out twice, which was a bit of a blow to my confidence, but hey, even the best of us have our off days. I cupped my hands around the tiny ember, and after a moment of coaxing, it finally caught fire. A wave of warmth enveloped me, and I realized just how chilly I had been; my legs were tingling back to life, having gone numb in the process.

I rubbed my legs, watching the flames grow stronger. Exhaustion washed over me like a heavy blanket, and I felt a bit cranky. Oh, that bird would pay for its antics; it was only a matter of time before it became my next BBQ feast! And to top it off, I hadn’t even had a chance to swim, leaving my skin dry and flaky—like I’d just emerged from a sunburn. Speaking of that annoying bird, I glanced at the eggs that were supposed to hatch and eat me. I retrieved two from my jacket and, with thoughts of breakfast in mind, pulled out another. I heaped sand at the base of the fire and buried the eggs, confident they’d cook nicely. If they turned out a bit runny, no biggie—I had a soft spot for soft-boiled eggs. The air soon filled with the tantalizing scent of cooking eggs, and my stomach, having been silent for too long, growled back to life with a fierce reminder of its hunger.

The aroma wafting from the sand was simply irresistible, so I decided to dig one of the eggs out with a slender stick and give it a gentle poke. It took a few taps before the shell finally gave way, and I patiently waited a couple of minutes for it to cool down enough to handle. The shell was pleasantly warm and surprisingly thicker than a typical chicken egg. I had to apply some real pressure to crack it open enough to peel. Once I got started, the scent of the egg was so rich and inviting that I couldn’t tell if it was just extraordinary or if my hunger was amplifying everything.

I took a small bite, and the flavor burst in my mouth—so full and decadent that my taste buds danced with delight, while my stomach audibly reminded me it was still very much alive. The texture was firm yet tender, far surpassing any egg I had ever tasted, and I absolutely adore eggs. This one was massive, a creamy white, smooth, and utterly delicious—no salt needed. I gazed at it with longing before setting it aside. I had my allergy pills on hand, just in case, so I fished them out of my pocket and kept a couple close. After an hour without any reactions, I took a bite of the egg and waited another hour. Still no issues, so I dove in with gusto. I took one of the pills anyway, knowing I’d be sleeping in dried grass that night—no need to tempt fate. In the end, I managed to devour two whole eggs, which was quite the feat considering their size!

After giving it some thought, I decided to cook up the remaining eggs, leaving just four behind which I put in my pockets because I was eager to whip up some omelets when I reunited with my group. It made more sense to have food ready rather than waiting to start another fire, and I couldn’t risk breaking all of them while navigating through the woods. So, I took my time, carefully placing the eggs in the sand and pushing them out with a stick until they were all cooked to perfection. I put the cooked eggs in my hood and pulled the tie tightly to securely store them inside. I recalled that many little critters avoid crossing eggshells since they can be quite sharp, so I crushed the shells and scattered them around the fire and the entrance of my tiny shelter. This could provide an extra layer of defense; at the very least, I’d hear the crunch if anything unwanted decided to approach.

Finally feeling satisfied, the exhaustion I had been holding at bay came rushing in, making it hard to keep my eyes open. I laid down my jacket under me and added more logs to the fire, hoping it would burn brightly throughout the night while ensuring nothing nearby could catch flame. I gathered some grass to create a makeshift pillow and pulled my hood over my head to keep my face off the ground. As soon as I settled onto my grassy cushion, I drifted into a deep, peaceful sleep.

I found myself in a peculiar dream featuring a man with flowing blue hair and striking blue and purple wings. His eyes were an astonishing blue-green, reminiscent of the Caribbean Sea on a clear day, and they seemed to penetrate my very soul, as if he were captivated by my essence. A soft smile danced on his lips, and I was utterly entranced by the depth of his gaze and the allure of his features. Just as I began to boldly explore the contours of his muscular, bare chest, a mischievous smirk crept onto his lips, hinting at something deliciously wicked. Suddenly, my dream shattered with the jarring sound of eggshells crunching near me.

Coming Next Time: Unwanted Visitor