Part 6: Friendship with a Fluffball

It's far on the other side of the mountain, requiring him to first cross this dark, dense forest.
The rain intensifies, mud underfoot, his steps arduous.
This is an insignificant part of the penance. Compared to the unfathomable human heart...nature is harmonious.
Shamane: You might have sent your blessing to the wrong place. pants
He wipes away the rain blurring his vision, panting loudly to avoid sucking water up his nose.
The way ahead is still unclear, but at least this time he knows where to go.

Shamane: Thorn grass... That's troublesome. Hopefully, it left me another path...
The grass, taller than his waist, forms a dense barrier.
Softened by the raindrops, it's bent at the waist. Once touched, the blades stiffen, their interwoven and razor-sharp edges able to cut skin to ribbons.
Faint sounds come from the thickets.
Shamane: Hey, little fellow, what are you doing here?
The rain has soaked the lamb's fur, head down, chewing on the thorn grass roots. Their tongue secretions can make the grass lower its defenses.
Shamane: Where are your friends?
It lifts its head, bleating, revealing a head missing an ear.
Shamane: ...!
Shamane: You are...
The ram collapses on the ground, panting and struggling. The wolf's sharp teeth deeply embedded in its flesh like a barbed hook.
Shaman: ...Don't go over.
Shamane releases the dagger in his hand, swallowing his voice, obediently backing into the bushes.
The elderly ram was isolated, which usually meant a gruesome ending.
Shamane: But it's your sheep...isn't it?
Shaman: No life should belong to me.
Shamane: ...
A sound rustles in the bushes.
Shaman: Crackle—
But instead of a foot, a...small lamb peeks out.
Shamane: !?
The lamb lifts its short horns, rushing at the wolf pack without hesitation and toppling over.
The pack retreats half a step, then surges forth again, gnawing the lamb's head, tearing its tender fur.
The bushes begin rustling once again, and the flock charges out, rushing at the wolves.
Shamane: ...Seeing you really makes me happy, friend.
He kisses its soft forehead.
Shamane: Twee-twee—...
His whistle pierces through the torrential rain, like an arrow shooting into the distant forest. After a brief silence, a group of Tahrs rushes over one after another.
They squeeze Shamane back, diligently chewing away the thorn grass. Soon, the barrier is cleared away.
Shamane: Yes...that's right...

In the gully, the river rises high, submerging the pebble road.
The formation is scattered by the rain, the furball hopping anxiously atop a tall rock.
Carbuncle: @#$%! @#$%!
It has no way out, the rapid waters surging beneath it.
Shamane: Stay there, don't move.
Shamane wades into the rapids and carries the furball off the rock.
Safe on land, it stares wide-eyed, looking curiously at the tall figure before it.
Shamane: Why are you all alone?
Carbuncle: &@#$%，$%@#——#$%!
Drenched, the furball scurries left and right, trying to explain. Realizing its futility, it pitifully stops and stands in place.
Shamane: Come on, follow me...
Shamane places it atop his head. The furball sways about, finding its balance, sitting steadily.

A cave appears ahead, pitch-black and unfathomable. Still, it's dry, and keeps out the chilling wind.
Shamane: Oh! Nature's gift!
Shamane leans in, wringing out his clothes.
He takes out a piece of flint and looks around, but the dry twigs on the ground are too brittle and wet. There's nothing that would easily ignite—well...not nothing...
Shamane: ...
He grabs the furball off his head, squeezing it in his hand. Fluffy, warm—and ignitable.
Carbuncle: ...
Carbuncle: @#$%!
The furball senses the danger.
Shamane: Hey, this is a good deal...
Shamane: It will be good for both of us to warm up!
The carbuncle clearly doesn't understand the negotiation, but it does feel the chill of the cave.
Carbuncle: @#$%!
The furball curses, turning around to reveal its long back fur.
Shamane: See, you're so considerate!
He reaches out, quickly and decisively pulling out a tuft—
Carbuncle: ——!
Thanks to its help, Shamane gets a fire going. Soon, the flames are blazing fiercely, radiating warmth.
The flames light the cave. A hulking figure staggers over, following the light.
？？？: ...
Carbuncle: Waaa@#%!
The furball scurries behind Shamane's rear.
Shamane: This is...
Shamane stands, peering into the darkness.
The hulking figure struggles to stand—
—and crashes to the ground.
Shamane gently approaches, supporting the body and touching the wound on its neck, its breath weak and exhausted.
Shamane: ...I'm sorry.
The giant moose knows death is coming, like a slow, gentle nightfall. And this cave is its chosen resting place.
He gently holds up its head, easing its pain as much as possible.
Moose: ...
He looks into its dimming eyes, feeling his palms gradually soaked in blood...
The stench of blood spreads, attracting wolves outside the cave.
Shamane: !?
Caught off guard, the alpha pounces, knocking Shamane to the ground.
The rest of the pack follows, pouncing together—
—Excitedly, they lick his face and warm palms.
Shamane: Enough. Now that's enough, my friends. Sit, sit.
Shamane: ...I have something I still need to do.
He kneels by the moose.
Shamane: A feast has been given to us.
Shamane: May it walk with you, mother nature.
Footprints trace the cliff's edge, startling the birds into flight...becoming food, and nurturing new life.
Destruction precedes creation; death nurtures birth.
The wolves feast merrily, surrounding him like children, keeping him warm with their thick fur.
Right then and there, Shamane's stomach starts howling.
Carbuncle: @#$%!...
The furball glances up at him, staggering over with meat on its mouth.
The flames flicker as the wolves' snores rise and fall.
Outside the cave, the rain still falls.

As dawn approaches, the torrential rain eases and mist shrouds the forest.
He leaves the cave early, heading towards the forest's edge.
Before long, the path ends and he is met by towering cliffs.
He looks down, another forest flourishing below, where the last herbs grow.
Shamane: Phew—! Wish me luck.
He climbs down the imposing cliffs tremulously.
A shadow blocks the sunlight.
Shamane: Hey, don't come down!
The furry creature leaps over, smacking him in the face.
Shamane: I—Must save—
The stones on the cliff can't bear their weight, falling alongside his shouts...