Due to the sudden deadly encounter, Nox proceeded with utmost care. Observing any movements around him, reacting to any kind of noise he hears.
He traversed the forest with a very slow approach. But despite that, he was able to reach the territory of the lioness.
The grass was stained in patches of blackened blood. The smell was thick, metallic, and faintly chemical. He crouched and scanned the area. Tracks, massive paw prints, and claw marks in the earth.
There he saw the body of the mutated lion from before. Her body was now ripped apart, with her limbs detached and scattered in different directions.
Her stomach pried open with a huge gaping hole, her insides nowhere to be seen. The lioness that looked majestic before was now left in such a gruesome state.
He reached into his leaf-wrapped satchel and pulled out a sharpened makeshift knife he had fashioned before. The edge was ragged but functional.
Gritting his teeth, he slipped the blade under the thick hide along her back. The skin was stiff and dry in parts, damp and sticky in others. With methodical precision, he sliced downward, separating the hide from muscle, careful not to waste any of it.
The claws came next. He bent the forelimb back until the joints cracked, exposing the base of each talon. One by one, he worked them free with the knife, slipping them into a separate pouch.
They were sharp and curved, hardened by years of evolution. Then, the bones. He moved to the rear leg, running a hand down the femur. Still strong, he made a clean cut at the hip and again near the knee, freeing it from the rest of the corpse.
The heavy femur would serve well as a hammer or club. The lioness's fangs, still gleaming white, caught his attention. With steady hands, he pried open her broken jaw and removed both upper canines.
Blood and muck stained his hands, the metallic tang clinging to his throat. He wiped the blade clean on a nearby leaf and finally stood.
He gave one last glance at the body, now hollowed further by necessity.
"Your death won't be wasted," he muttered, voice low and firm. Then he turned, the salvaged materials heavy in his pack but lighter than the weight he felt pressing in his chest.
The travel back to the shelter was smooth since he already knew the place he had to avoid, as well as the path to take.
When he arrived at the shelter, peeking through the fence was the cub. Jumping up and down, happily welcoming its new family despite crying earlier by thinking it will be left alone.
(Analyzing cub behavior... Emotional resilience: high. Attachment level: rapidly increasing.
Pattern observed: initial distress replaced by joy upon recognizing a familiar presence.
Conclusion: The cub has begun to associate Nox with safety and stability.
Implication: Separation may now cause greater emotional disruption than before.
Despite his logical core, Nox couldn't help but blink slowly, almost stunned at how quickly the cub's trust had been earned...
Nox paused mid-step, glancing down at the cub as it enthusiastically pressed its small body against his leg, purring or whatever approximation of purring this mutated thing could manage. He stood there stiffly for a second, processing.
"...What exactly do you want me to do with this gesture? " he muttered under his breath, more to himself than the cub.
(Analyzing behavior... Affection. Reinforcement of social bond.
Response protocol... Unknown. Human instincts: underdeveloped.
Attempting minimal reciprocation...)
With the grace of someone trying to pet a wild cactus, Nox reached down and awkwardly patted the cub's head once. The cub squeaked. He blinked.
"...That's enough emotion for today."
When Nox sat down inside the shelter, the cub made a sniffing gesture. Walking close towards the pouch that had its mother's remains, it pried it open using its paw.
When it smelled and saw what remained of its mother, it walked slowly towards it and curled up its body right beside it.
When Nox saw this, he spoke to the cub despite it not understanding him. Explaining to It why he had to do what he had to do.
Nox stood silent for a moment, watching as the cub pressed its small form against the lifeless remains of its mother. Its eyes blinked slowly, but no tears came. Just a quiet, deep stillness, something far too heavy for a creature so young to carry.
Nox crouched beside it, placing the wrapped tools he had crafted earlier to the side.
"...She was already gone when I came back,"
he said quietly. His voice was low, not for the cub's comprehension, but for something else. Maybe guilt. Maybe the need to confess.
"I had to take what was left. If I didn't, we wouldn't last long. I know it means nothing to you... but I didn't want to waste her death. If I can survive longer because of her... then maybe it wasn't for nothing."
The cub didn't move. It just breathed, softly, slowly, its little sides rising and falling against the torn hide of the only parent it had ever known.
(Analyzing behavioral pattern... Signs of mourning detected.
Emotional response: minimal comprehension, high instinctual attachment.
Conclusion: Unresolved grief in subject. Minimal comfort possible.)
Nox sat there for a while, eyes on the horizon, the cold tools resting between them. Needing to thaw the hide for preservation. He took the hide from the cub.
The moment Nox reached out and carefully tugged the hide from beneath the cub's curled body, the little creature let out a soft, protesting whimper. It didn't fight, just watched him with large, wet eyes, confused, maybe hurt, but still trusting.
"I need this," Nox muttered.
"If I leave it as it is, it'll rot. Then none of us gain anything from her."
He stood, holding the hide, thick, heavy, and already starting to stiffen. He then quickly made a fire pit using a flint stone and the steel-like branch he found earlier in order to thaw the skin.
(Analyzing material integrity... Biological decay imminent without immediate treatment.
Optimal process: Low heat drying and smoke exposure.
Estimated duration: 3–5 hours.
Risk: Attracting predators due to scent.
Countermeasure: Reinforce shelter perimeter.)
As he hung the hide over a forked branch above the coals, Nox glanced back at the cub, who hadn't moved. Still watching. Still quiet.
"I'll give it back when I'm done," he said dryly.
"Not that you understand. But maybe you do."
He sat beside the fire, eyes flicking between the hide, the cub, and the forest beyond, never letting any one thing take too much of his attention.
...