Chương 5: Is Friend? Or is Foe?

Ch. 05 - Is Friend? Or is Foe?

[Danger Sense] is not a common skill, even though any class can attain it. A [Builder] might employ it to avoid accidents during construction, or a [Chef] might utilise it for something as mundane as preventing burns from grabbing a hot pan. It isn't all knowing. Ofttimes you are informed of danger without knowing what from. Still, it is useful. That not everyone receives it is perhaps due to their individual personalities.

A reckless man, prone to throwing himself into the fray without thought, wouldn't find it needful. The assignations of [Class] and [Skill] takes the desires of the individual into account more than people realise. - from the writings of Steadholder Eckhart Wyatt's [Danger Sense] rang in his head as Royce raced towards the small silver fox, blade drawn. He didn't know exactly what his skill meant, he just knew that it would be bad if the seemingly harmless fox was attacked.

Wyatt took a quick step forwards and booted Royce's legs out from under him as he ran by. The [Hunter] crashed to the ground, losing hold of his knife. Royce quickly sprang to his feet, unharmed due to the soft ground. His eyes darted around, looking for his blade. Spotting it, Royce scooped it up, and then glared at Wyatt, his face was thunderous.

"What the hell are you playing at, boy?" Anders ran up, skidding to a stop between them, holding out both his arms.

"Stop! What are you two — huh?" Anders blinked, having spotted the fox. A quiet gasp from Sam followed as she also saw the animal. Royce gestured animatedly at the fox with his knife.

"This idiot stopped me from killing it for some reason! You want it for yourself, don't you!" Royce moved towards the animal again, but Wyatt swiftly moved in front of him. He held up a hand to the [Hunter].

"Just wait, alright!" Royce held up his knife, his knuckles white as he gripped the hilt. His voice sounded flat. Dead.

"Move." Anders shouted. He sounded slightly panicked as he looked at Royce.

"Stop! I won't have fighting within the group!" The [Hunter] grinned tightly.

"It won't be a fight. Trust me." Wyatt refused to move. He spoke to Anders without taking his eyes off of Royce.

"My new skill activated — my [Danger Sense]." Anders blinked, looking uncertain.

"It did?"

"Yeah. I saw that animal first and there was nothing. But then Royce went for it, and it was like alarm bells in my head. Attacking it is a bad idea." Royce snarled, spittle flecking at the corner of his mouth. He was weaving slightly back and forth, shifting on his feet. Looking past Wyatt to where the animal still sat. Watching.

"Bullshit! I'm not going to be outdone by some stupid kid — you killed that fucking deer and levelled up. Well, it's my turn now!" Anders looked back and forth between them. He set his shoulders, trying to sound reasonable.

"Wait a moment, Royce. Wyatt, is your skill still going off?" Wyatt nodded his head slowly.

"Off and on. Whenever I think Royce might get by me and attack it." Sam had moved slightly to one side so she could see the fox better. She crouched a little and cocked her head. Then she spoke quietly, keeping her voice as calm as she could.

"Wyatt's right. Anders, don't let Royce do anything stupid. That fox is just watching us. A wild animal would run, but it's just … watching." David had been keeping well back, but at that he seemed to relax a bit.

"What, you mean it's tame? Like someone's pet? Oh, or a familiar!" Sam shook her head sharply. Her voice flat.

"No, not like something out of a game, David. I mean that it's obviously not scared that we are here. Like that deer didn't seem to care until Royce stabbed it. The fox doesn't seem aggressive, but if Wyatt's skill goes off whenever it's about to be attacked …" That observation was enough to decide Anders. He walked briskly over to Royce, and put a hand on the wiry man's shoulder.

"Okay, that tears it. Royce, sorry, but we can't risk —" Royce shrugged himself out of Anders grip, surprising the bigger man. The [Hunter] stormed off back to his pack, muttering curses under his breath. Wyatt relaxed now that the confrontation seemed to be over. His skill was silent once more. But the fox was still here, so they might not be completely in the clear yet. Wyatt turned back to face the animal, and— Wyatt froze as the fox stood and gracefully bounded over the tree root it had been hiding behind.

It shook itself, its silvery fur rippling, and then it trotted towards him.

"Uhh …" Wyatt backed up as the fox approached, unsure what it was doing. It was quite small, its head not quite making it to knee-height, and its black-tipped ears were swivelling and moving; cataloging every sound. The fox came to a stop and sat again, regarding him serenely. Then it tilted its head slightly to one side before letting out a series of short and rapid chattering barks. It sounded … inquisitive. Wyatt regarded the small fox. Now it was out in the open he could get a proper look at it.

Its fur shone, a silver sheen deepening it from a mundane grey. The ears were perhaps a little too large for it, but they twitched about in a charming manner. Its eyes were the most striking part of it though; a deep sapphire blue holding far too much intelligence for a mere animal. Wyatt cleared his throat, feeling a little silly as he looked down at the fox.

"Uh … hey. Do you want anything, little guy?" The fox let out a sneeze, wrinkling its nose. It raised one of its hind legs and scratched at the ruff of fur around its neck. Samantha moved to stand next to Wyatt, looking intently down at the animal like she was captivated.

"Girl."

"What was that?" Sam pointed at the little fox.

"It's a girl. I think so anyway." This novel is published on a different platform. Support the original author by finding the official source. The little fox got to its feet and let out a yip, its tail whipping through the air excitedly. Wyatt followed its gaze and realised it was looking at the carcass of the stag.

"Oh, you want some food? Don't worry we'll be gone soon. Then feel free." The fox spun around on the spot and then sat down again. It made a high pitched staccato whine, ending in what almost sounded like a human laugh. When it opened its mouth, Wyatt couldn't help but notice that its teeth looked incredibly sharp. Then the fox yipped again. Sam nudged Wyatt in the side.

"She wants you to give her some meat." Wyatt blinked.

"She does? Well, I mean she can I guess — wait, how do you know that?" Samantha looked suddenly evasive, just muttering that it was obvious. Wyatt thought about it a few moments, then just shrugged. He was still coming off the adrenaline high of his [Danger Sense] going off, so he didn't feel like pushing things. He walked back to the Stag and cut off a small strip of meat from where he'd been butchering it.

When he turned back to the fox he jumped, biting back an oath that his Gramps used to like to say when his wife wasn't around. The fox had followed him and was now sitting almost at his feet.

"Hey girl — you hungry?" Wyatt gingerly tossed the strip of meat at the animal's feet. The little fox looked down at the meagre offering and huffed out a breath. Wyatt got the distinct impression that if it was a human it'd be rolling its eyes at him. Then the fox daintily picked up the meat and gulped it down.

"I guess you liked that, huh?" The fox settled itself comfortably on its haunches, wrapping its thick tail around itself. Then it yipped, lifting a front paw and stamping it demandingly on the ground.

"You want more?" The fox yipped twice. From next to him, Wyatt heard a soft exhale as Sam breathed out under her breath.

"… cute." When he turned to look at her, Samantha's face flushed pink. Then she folded her arms brusquely.

"What are you looking at? Hurry up and feed it some more." Wyatt suspected that if he smiled at her she might hit him, so he hid it with a cough. He went back to the deer and cut a more substantial piece than before. This time when he carried it to the little fox, he placed it carefully down in front of it instead of just tossing it. Wyatt jumped when the fox brushed its black nose against his hand, sniffing. Then it bent down and gobbled down the meat just as quickly as it had before.

Over by his pack, Royce spat onto the ground in disgust.

"And now he's giving it our food. Fucking wonderful." Wyatt was already back at the stag, cutting yet more meat for the fox. He still had time to call back at Royce though.

"We've already got as much as we can carry. We were just leaving the rest here." Royce spat again.

"Whatever. I thought we were in a hurry to leave though — or were you just enjoying throwing your weight around before." At that, Wyatt hesitated. They really should get going; it wasn't wise to linger around a kill. But a large part of him didn't want to leave just yet. Wyatt realised he was enjoying this, enjoying feeding the little fox. This was what he'd been missing, ever since they had come to this world.

When Wyatt had crossed through the portal, moving from the drab concrete building where it'd been housed to the clear skies and rolling green hills of the valley, he'd only ever been doing what other people had told him to do. Help set up camp. Haul water, cut trees. Building walls, looking for food. Wyatt hadn't exactly minded the work, but it hadn't been what he'd wanted to do. As soon as Wyatt had seen this new world, seen a sky not hazy with ash, he'd wanted to explore, to find his own place.

His most important possession, his one personal item he'd been allowed to bring through the portal, had become his obsession. It had started as the continuation of his grandparent's dreams and regrets, but it had become Wyatt's own as well. It would perhaps strike an observer as strange. Most of Wyatt's life spent on his grandparent's farm had been in the outdoors, in the pursuit of game and anything else edible he could gather from the nearby forest. It was a hard-won skill he was confident in.

But it wasn't his drive or goal. It wasn't what he eagerly listened to as he sat by the fireplace as his Gramps and Grandmother talked, sharing stories of what Earth had been like back before the Cataclysm. About what life on their land used to be. Wyatt wanted to farm. It was why he carried what he did; a collection of seeds of varying types, plants that he'd never actually seen grown in person before. Some had been hard to find — some had been hoarded by his grandparents.

Saved in the ultimately vain hope that one day the world would be better, and they could plant and cultivate them. Wyatt wished they could have lived to see the portal, to see this new world. They would have loved it, even though Wyatt was unsure if he could have made the decision to leave Earth were they still with him. But he was determined to carry on the legacy they had left. It had been a struggle not to try planting at least some of the seeds at the settlement they had built. It had been oh so tempting.

The reason that had swayed Wyatt to wait though, was that it wasn't his place. He had been following orders, doing what other people wanted. Wyatt had leapt at the chance to join an expedition to explore the dark forest that lay on the edge of the valley. He hadn't even been that upset when they'd gotten lost — he wasn't incredibly invested in building someone else's place, even more so after the portal back to Earth had closed.

Wyatt had heard some people talking, saying that this was a truly empty world, that they were the only people in it. Which sounded insane to Wyatt. There had been a temple-looking building right where the portal had opened up! Sure it'd been a decayed ruin, but someone had to have built it. They were just stuck in a valley, ringed on all sides by mountains and forest. There had to be something else out there. But now everything was different. So different he still could scarce believe it. [Classes]. [Skills].

As soon as it had happened, Wyatt had had only one thought. What kind of skills could he get as a [Farmer]? Wyatt liked his [Survivalist] class, and even his [Forager] class. They had helped immeasurably since they'd gotten lost in the forest. But he had a secret; one that he'd kept from everyone else in the squad. Wyatt had refused the [Soldier] class and every combat class he'd been offered since. It hadn't been offered at the beginning.

But over the ensuing days, perhaps because of his following orders and working with the others as a squad, Wyatt had occasionally had the option to gain the [Soldier] class. It hadn't been presented as an option of course. It had begun like every other time he'd levelled. A voice, speaking in his head as he slept. [Conditions Met: Soldier Class Assigned!] [Soldier Level —] Then Wyatt, even asleep, had categorically denied the level up. He hadn't wanted it.

[Class Cancelled] The class had been offered to him one more time before it had stopped. It had shown Wyatt that it wasn't just your actions that decided what class you could get, but your desire as well. He'd wrestled with sharing his discovery with the others, but in the end he'd decided against doing so. It might be important information, but he just knew that most of them wouldn't understand turning down the same class they already had. It went against the mission, against their goal. That of saving the world.

Wyatt just wanted to find a place to call his own. To forge ahead, past the memories of drudgery and hardship. To build something he could look at and feel proud of. To find a little bit of peace. Which perhaps explained why he was currently lingering in a clearing feeding a cute little fox strips of meat. This, more than anything else, captured the feeling he'd been craving without realising.

That of wonder, of taking joy in an expression of the natural world that had been sadly missing on the blighted landscape of Earth. So Wyatt just shrugged at Royce, and continued feeding the little fox, trying to hide a smile that he knew would enrage the [Hunter].

"We'll leave soon. A few minutes won't matter either way." David came over, and awkwardly cut a bit of meat off of the deer. He carried it to where Wyatt and Sam was standing, and tried to offer it to the fox.

"Here you go, little one. Eat up! There's plenty more where — aw, really?" The fox had sniffed once at the meat that David had offered, and then had turned its nose up in the air. It then raised a paw and batted the piece of meat to one side. Sam snorted softly, but not unkindly.

"You must have given her a bad bit. Here, let me." Samantha cut her own strip of meat off of the cooling carcass, but it was her turn to look hurt when the little fox gave her offering the same treatment as David's. Wyatt raised an eyebrow at that, and carefully didn't look at either of them when the fox promptly ate the next bit of meat he handed to it. Wyatt cleared his throat.

"Do you think she's out here alone? I thought she might have been quite young at first, but now I'm not too sure. I was comparing her to an Earth animal." Sam had folded her arms again, doing her best to look as though the fox refusing to let her feed it didn't bother her.

"No idea, but it doesn't look like there's any more of them out there. If they are all as bold as her, they'd hardly be hiding." The fox tapped its paw on the ground again, demanding to be fed. Wyatt obliged.

"She's definitely not shy, is she?" Wyatt spent some more time feeding the fox. It was only when Anders announced that they were ready to set off that he realised that he'd perhaps overfed the little animal. By Wyatt's reckoning, he'd fed the fox more meat than she actually weighed — but for all that, the silver animal looked as sleek as she had when he'd first spotted her. The fox watched Wyatt intently as he gathered up his pack and gear, stowing what he needed to.

He hadn't yet reaffixed his knife to his spear, but figured that he could still use the stout bit of wood as a staff should the need arise. The rest of the squad was still a bit battered, so it wasn't like they'd be seeking out any more violence. Wyatt surreptitiously knocked on the wood of his staff to ward off bad luck. He reminded himself that in the nine days since they'd entered the forest, the stag had been the only large animal they'd seen.

Still, it would be wise to start heading to where [A Safe Place to Rest] was directing him. Shifting the weight of his pack, Wyatt looked down at the silver fox. The little animal was watching him intently as the rest of the squad gathered up.

"Well, good luck, little one. You're welcome to the rest of the kill — but don't gorge yourself, alright?" Wyatt turned to go, but he froze when he saw a flash of silver out of the corner of his eye. The little fox moved so quickly that the next thing that he knew, it was perched on the top of his pack.

"Uh, guys?" Sam gasped when she saw where the fox was.

"Hang on, don't move, Wyatt. Just keep still. Hey, little fox. Why don't you get down before you—" Sam stopped when the fox chattered at her with a series of scolding barks. It moved around in a tight circle, tramping down the top of Wyatt's pack. Then it lay down, giving off a distinctly pleased air, and wrapped its soft tail around Wyatt's neck. The little silver fox then yawned widely, closed its eyes, and appeared to go to sleep. Sam stared at Wyatt with the fox draped across his neck and pack.

"… I hate you."