In the meadow, I crouched within a patch of tall grass, my eyes fixed on the timberline. In my lap lay a makeshift torch – a long, wooden stick with a thin rag tied at the end. Some kindling lay in front of me. The early morning sun rose quickly, evaporating what little moisture the hair had. It was especially dry this fall. Besides the area around the stream, the forest floor was littered with crisp, dry leaves. I felt like I would get a nose bleed from just the arid air. 

I heard birds singing and the faint rush of the stream in the distance. I stayed completely silent, focusing past the white noise, listening for the stag. 

My fingers absently-mindedly toyed with the knife Baek gave me. It was sheathed of course. I thought back to yesterday. A few days had passed since we foraged for roots and berries. Baek and I spent the time planning and preparing. 

Baek had led me to a chokepoint at the base of the stream.  A small "valley" created by two giant boulders with the water stream running through it. I had never explored this area before, and Baek said he had only found it recently. 

The two of us had lugged a steel bear trap and a spool of razor wire to it. I caught my breath on a rock and wiped the sweat from my forehead as Baek forced open the large trap that was almost half as tall as him.

“Let me help.” I offered as I stood up from my rock. 

“No, it’s too dangerous.” He wasn’t tired. He wasn’t even sweating. He put on some thick, leather gloves and began unwinding the razor wire. 

“I thought we were past this…” I muttered under my breath. I sat back down and watched him. 

Baek laid the wire out around the boulders and behind the trap, effectively creating a funnel for the buck to run into. If the deer went in, it would not be able to get out unscathed. 

“I thought you didn’t like traps.” I asked him.

Tugging on the last piece of razor wire, he responded, “I don’t, but this is the only way.”

“Where did you even get this?” 

“Years ago. Papa told me he had some traps hidden in the storage room in case I needed them, but I never used them because traps are–”

“--traps are cowardly. I know, I know.” I finished for him. 

I studied Baek as he pulled a thick branch from a rotting tree. The way he moved… it was so purposeful and concise, like there was no wasted energy. As if not a single muscle movement was out of place. 

“Baek, how old are you?”

“What do you mean? Same as you.”

“I don’t know. I just don’t think eleven year olds can do what you do.”

“You know a lot of eleven year olds?”

“No.”

Damn, I should’ve used the tablet to watch more videos of kids my age. I’ll do that next time. 

I watched as he tested the bear trap by placing the damp branch in the mouth of it. Its steel jaws clamped down on the wood mercilessly. It was so fast even I couldn’t track the movements. 

Baek tossed the broken branch aside and began setting the trap up again. “You know if you think I’m weird, you should look at yourself. Climbing trees like a monkey, jumping from branch to branch. Your reaction speed, your timing, no one taught you how to solve Rubik’s cubes, you just figured it out. Your first try when you were four years old took you five minutes.”

“I remember.”

“Who’s to say that not all eleven year olds are like us?” Baek said as the trap clicked into place.

I watched him intently as he put his hand on my shoulder. It was moist, but from the water from the stream. Not sweat. 

I shivered, the cool morning air clung around me, my breath visible against the grass, and my knife handle warm from my palm. Baek should be waiting by the traps we set yesterday. My job is to drive the buck toward him. Easy enough. I watched enough videos about hunting and deer behavior. I’ve had enough prep time to set up my plan. I haven’t told Baek what it was, and he didn’t ask. I know I can do this, and I’m sure he knows too. 

Snap.

My eyes snap towards the sound. Scanning the timberline, I spotted the buck, lazily chewing on some leaves. 

I pulled my other hand out of my pocket and looked at the flint rocks. I turned them in my hand and took a deep breath. 

Clack-clack.

I struck the flint with my knife. Sparks flew onto the kindling. My torch was too bulky for sparks to light it, so I had to make a stronger flame first. Blowing on the embers, the kindling caught on fire. With the flame stable, I carefully lit my torch. 

I muttered to myself, "I can do this. I can do this." 

Slowly standing up, I stomped the small fire out. With the blazing torch held high, I slowly approached the timberline.

The stag noticed me and the flame, and in a panic, it took off in the opposite direction.

I steadily jogged to keep up with the stag, letting the distance between us grow and shrink like a rubber band. Along the way, I passed similar torches that I had set up in advance; I lit them as I went.

The buck didn’t act how I thought it would. In the videos I watched, the animals would tend to just run straight ahead, but this deer would occasionally look back and wait. 

As I lit the fifteenth torch, successfully creating a wall behind the buck so it can’t double back, the deer stopped and stared at me, and for a split second, I saw a glint in its eye.

The beast ran off again. 

I continued herding the buck towards Baek. Things are going really well. Growing excited and impatient, I picked up the pace, getting closer to the stag.

However, I got too close and the stag freaked out, changing directions. 

"No! No!" I exclaimed. The stag tried to circle back, but my torches were in the way. It whined and grunted in fear, then stopped in front of the fire. 

Seeing the animal double back towards the direction I wanted it to go, I gave it some space to pass me. 

"Phew," I sighed, calming myself and resuming my slow herding pace.

I double checked my torches, making sure the buck didn’t accidentally loosen one. The last thing I want is for one of them to fall over. 

I turned back towards the direction of the stag, but I couldn't see it. Panicking, I spun my head around, looking for it as the fall trees blurred together. "No... no... no..." I muttered to myself.

I stabbed my torch into the ground and scrambled up a nearby tree. I looked over the bushes and thickets, but it was nowhere to be found. I feverishly hopped down from the tree without looking at the ground.

My foot slipped on a large tree root and I fell towards my upright torch. Quickly reacting, I smacked the torch out of the way with my hand and hit the dirt. 

“Ahh!” My palm had touched the burning rags. 

I glanced up from the dirt and saw my torch fly towards the others, knocking them over. The fire smashed onto the dry leaves on the forest floor. The fire grew stronger as more leaves ignited, and I stared at it, frozen for a moment.

Snapping back to my senses, I jumped up and tried to stomp out the fire. However, the flames had spread quickly, jumping from dry leaf to dry leaf like fleas. They were too hot and wild for me to contain.

I took off my coat and tried to kill the fire that way, but it was useless. The heat burned my bare arms and I felt the hairs on them singe off. Black smoke filled the forest as the thick canopy acted like an oven, keeping everything in. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, and I couldn’t tell if my eyes were watering because of the smoke or because I was crying. 

Throwing my coat down in frustration, I turned towards the stream. I would be safe there. But the smoke and the water in my eyes made it hard to see and I tripped over the thickets and roots. 

“Ack!” I yelled as I collapsed. 

I clutched my burnt and twisted ankle, coughing up a storm.

Then the world turns black.