Damien woke up drenched, covered in his own sweat. His body was running a fever. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt a warm sensation in his mouth. His body was still too weak, so all he could do was roll over onto his stomach to prevent puking on himself.
He spent the next couple of hours vomiting; his arm stung worse than when it was ripped off. After he was done, he then grabbed a branch that had fallen from a tree and used it as a crutch to get to his feet. He made his way over to the river and started taking off his clothes; his body was too sticky with blood, making it too distracting.
Pain—he could stand, but filth was another thing. He couldn't carry himself with pride if he was filthy. 'A gentleman must always look his best.' That's what his father taught him, and he carried his lessons all his life.
When he was done bathing, he began tracing his way back up the river, staggering as he did. As he walked, he thought about everything that had happened. He was getting the sinking feeling that they were outclassed during this war, making what he was about to do even more urgent.
"I expect a handsome amount of gold from Edmond for this. If I'm not able to swim in it, then it's not enough. Plus, I'll need extra for the arm and the eye...."
"...Looking back, a head gear wouldn't have been a bad choice. How much does an eye and an arm go for on the black market these days?"
He mumbled before letting out a deep sigh.
"Here I am thinking about money when I look like someone who just crawled out of a grave. My greed really knows no bounds, eh?"
"If I go back to the camp now, maybe Victor can do something about my arm or maybe fix my left eye, but I have bigger fish to fry. I'll just have to live with it. I'll just pick up some herbs along the way so it doesn't get infected."
Damien kept close to the river as he trailed along, picking up herbs as he went. The river he was following stretched throughout Beastopia. It was a single river that split at a specific point across the whole of Beastopia. Damien was trying to find the point where they all diverged.
He walked for hours, limping along with a branch as a crutch. So far, he hadn't spotted any demi-humans nor any soldiers. At his current speed, his journey would take at least a couple of days, and if the situation arose, he had no way of defending himself. He was at the complete mercy of whoever he came across, whether it be friend or foe.
That realization hung heavy on his mind as he dragged his battered body along the path.
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In the heart of the demi-human territory, a lion demi-human sat, perched atop a rock with a bored expression on its face. He amused himself with a tiny rock he had carved until it was spherical.
Just then, two demi-humans approached him. One had features like a bear. It was roughly 12 feet tall, with white fur all over its body. The other demi-human was a female fox demi-human. She had cute reddish-brown ears protruding from her head, and she also had nine tails, also with reddish-brown fur. She carried an amusing smile as she approached the lion demi-human.
"What took you guys so long?! I've been waiting here for, uh… for God knows how long!! I have half a mind to kill you where you stand!" The lion demi-human roared, throwing the rock he was holding; it smashed to pieces against the bear demi-human's chest.
"Hey, watch it!!" the bear demi-human roared.
"Can you two not start? I don't have time for your bickering," the fox demi-human remarked, frowning.
"Right! Let's get to the meat of the matter! I called you two here to give you a warning, especially you, Björn," he said, staring directly at the bear demi-human. "Leave the humans alone!"
"Tsk. I don't take orders from you. I'm also a shaman, just like the two of you, which means we're on the same level," Björn remarked.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" the fox demi-human mumbled.
"Look! I don't normally give a shit about what you two are up to, but this is where I draw the line. I haven't gotten a good hunt in forever, and I won't let the two of you spoil the fun. Björn, I heard you've sent some of your tribe members after them; call them off."
"This isn't a game, Grimjaw. Those filthy apes have defiled our country. They've killed our people, laid with our women, and eaten our food. This isn't a game; those monkeys deserve to be ripped apart limb by limb."
"And that's exactly what I'm going to do. But you and your cronies are spoiling my fun! Lions don't hunt with bears; it's a fundamental rule of nature."
"Just give him what he wants, Björn. He won't stop whining unless you do," the female demi-human commented, seeming disinterested in the situation altogether.
"You don't care at all about the situation, do you, Vixen? Your people are mostly the ones getting massacred, but yet you refuse to do anything about it. Grimjaw has his issues, but at least he cares enough to get involved."
"I have better things to do than fight against humans. You see, I've just—"
"Enough!!" Grimjaw roared. "Stop your babbling! Björn! I'll ask you for the last time: will you stay out of my way? Or will I have to have some fun with you first?"
Björn stared at Grimjaw with intensity, his sharp claws glinting menacingly. His blood lust so high that it paralized any living creature at lose proximity with fear. He was letting his intent be known.
"Fine!!" Björn relented. "But if the situation turns for the worse, I'll step in, and it won't be just the humans I'll kill."
Grimjaw did nothing but chuckle, then lay back down on his rock; he blocked out everything Björn said after 'Fine.'
"Just sit back and watch the hunt; it's gonna be a bloodbath."