Edvard cursed as a piercing pain shot through him from his left shoulder. Luckily the momentum from the ape brought him to the ground, Edvard using it to fall onto the ape. Causing it to shriek out in pain and let go of his shoulder.

Rolling to the side, Edvard swung madly with the club in his left hand. The ape shrieking in pain as the hit landed. Not wasting any time Edvard focused on getting up and only then turning around.

Finding the ape also on its feet and baring its fangs at him.

"Come on!" Edvard shouted, feinting with the short spear in his right. The ape jumping back to avoid the strike. "Come on!" He shouted again.

Roaring, the ape suddenly charged. Edvard only barely managing to bring the spear in its path. It stopped just short of it, not seeing the coming club. With a crack, the ape flew to the side as the club fell from Edvard's arm.

"Fuck!" He shouted in pain, his entire left arm numb after that hit. His back and chest warmed by the running blood of his wound.

Seeing the ape move, Edvard cursed again. Running forward he thrust the short spear into its neck. The ape drowning in its blood not long after.

Edvard did not celebrate its death, instead, he cursed a slew of profanities. With the adrenaline leaving him, the pain from his shoulder nearly sent him into shock. He had not managed to survive many fights, the pain after was a new feeling. One he had not expected to be this bad.

Using his spear as a crutch he moved towards the river to try and clean the wound. He cursed some more from the pain, but he dared not leave it as is. Digging into the open flesh, he tried to make the flowing water flow through it. Gritting his teeth in pain.

"I'll survive a day or two at best." He mumbled as he climbed out of the river, the sun starting to go down. "I need a fire, but... Goddammit!"

His mood was terrible as he realized he had no idea how to start a fire with nothing. His left arm being useless also certainly did not do him any good.

Doing his best to stop the bleeding, cauterizing it no longer an option, Edvard turned to the large leaves of the local plants. Placing them over the wound and then using a few supple branches to tighten it. Shouting in pain as his muscles refused to work.

It did not work well, but it did at least slow the flow of blood. The warm trickle on his back informing him that he was going to bleed out, "There is no way I am making it to tomorrow." He sighed, leaning against the tree. His energy spent, nothing to eat, nor anything to warm himself with.

Edvard cursed again as he realized the amount of time he had wasted. "One club, one spear. That is all I need. After getting that I should focus on finding something to eat... And finding a river. There is no certainty that I would stumble upon one like today."

Edvard did not survive until sunrise. An hour into the night he had fallen asleep. The blood loss had made him disorientated and lightheaded. He did not even know how he had died.

Waking up Edvard really wished to kill Ilvisar, the Vespes who had sent him here. He felt certain that this was hell, where he would continually be hunted by animals and ripped open. He was not even given much time to recover between attacks.

While his thoughts were on revenge and hating the one responsible, his actions were to find a stick or branch he could use to fight. Having become good at judging those that will be strong enough to actually hold out in a fight, yet easy enough to break.

As he broke just such a one, he turned and waited for the animal of this rotation. After a few seconds a tiger came out and charged him. Not at all wary of him and his stubby stick.

Edvard did not mind. He placed himself next to the tree where he had gotten the stubby club. As the tiger charged, he dodged around the tiger. Making sure to also strike with all his might as he did.

The hit disoriented the tiger and caused it to not stop its charge. It rammed headfirst into the tree, and Edvard did not delay in beating it to death.

Standing up bloodied, but unhurt, he quickly moved to find a branch he could turn into a spear. Spears were far better than clubs. Giving him more space and more versatility. However, a club was a nice secondary. No matter what, it would always do something.

What he really wished for was a blade.

Around six hours later he faced a jaguar, who he kept at a distance with his makeshift spear. He had sharpened it nicely, a club hung from his waist on a sapling belt, at the ready for if his spear cracked or got stuck.

Not having any clothing or even any cloth made it far harder to carry things. This was something Edvard came to learn as he tried to gather useful items. 'Heck, it would have made a great bandage.'

Staring at the wary jaguar, Edvard kept his spear trained in its direction. Listening to the rushing water of the river behind him, the sounds giving him confidence.

Edvard did not rush in killing the jaguar. For some reason, the animals came for him and would always fight to the death. Hence, he wanted to have the advantage of reacting to its movements.

He placed himself at the edge riverbank. If the jaguar simply rushed him, it would fall into it and allow him to easily kill it with his spear if it tried to come ashore.

In the end, this is what happened. The jaguar lost its patience and jumped at him. Edvard dodged clumsily, simply falling to the ground and almost into the river. This was enough, a splash informing him of the tactic's success.

Standing up in a rush he aimed his spear at the water. The jaguar indeed fighting the current to try and reach him. Something which made no sense at all to Edvard.

It made this fight far easier. He simply waited for it to finally reach the riverbank. Keeping up with it as it moved downstream. Finally, when it struggled onto the ground, Edvard ended its life with two semi-clean strikes.

After that Edvard continued to search for food, eating a few nuts he found during the day. During the night he faced an ape, however, he had already made himself three spears. Also having a leaf-sack filled with nuts.

When the ape appeared he threw his first spear and charged in with his second killing it with ease. However, he did not know if another would come at night. So he fought off his lethargy and stayed awake.

The next day was hard, the lack of sleep started slowing his thoughts. Finally, Edvard died because he had fallen asleep. A stupid death, yet one he had no idea how to prevent. He dared not sleep, certain that that too would be a stupid death.