The next morning Bridget awakens to the sounds of birds singing and the gentle rays of sunshine passing through the rustling leaves of the trees as she sits up in her bed and stretches her arms above her head. With a big yawn she turns to Willfrith, but instead, she is met by an empty pile of bedding. Panic sets in, her breath quickens when the rustling sound of grass under footsteps catches her attention. Willfrith casually emerges from a path of bushes trailed by trees, holding a makeshift cloth bag tightly in his fist as he chews nonchalantly on some sort of root. ''Greash yow jusht im time'', Wilfrith says with a mouth full. Bridget's tense muscles ease, her shoulders relaxing. She breathes a sigh of relief, swiftly hopping up, taking the cloth from him. As she holds the bag, a bright red-crisp berry pops out from a small gap and drops near her feet. ''So this is what you've been up to'', she says as Willfrith walks over to his bed, his limp arm swaying lifelessly with every step. Bridget turns her face away, her heart aching every time she sees his arm, ''You should have woken me'', she solemnly tells him. Willfrith sits down crossing his legs, his feet resting on the grass at the edge of his blanket. He spits out the root to the side and with a soft giggle, faces Bridget, ''Hehe, sorry about that. I thought I'd get us some breakfast when luck found me some pain relievers along the way. Fear not, I did not stray far from camp'', he assures her, playfully saluting with a cheeky grin across his face.

He manages to get a giggle from Bridget. Seeing her soft smile, Wilfrith smiles a little wider before moving on to his dramatics. ''All right now, don't just keep hogging the food. I'm positively famished! And seeing it just dangling in a cloth isn't making my gut feel any better''. Hurrying over  Bridget seats herself on the other end of Wilfriths bed, placing the fruit between them. The vibrant hues of maroons, reds and yellow-greens popping off from the dull cream of the cloth they rest on. Bridget is almost salivating at how scrumptious they look. Accompanied by the grumbling of both their stomachs, adding fuel to their appetites. Amongst the lot, Bridget spots a rare fruit to come by and excitedly questions Willfrith about it, ''Where and how on earth did you manage to come across Figpots!?''. Willfrith puffs his chest out, raising his nose to the air as he munches down on a honeyapple, proud of his harvest as he brags. ''Didn't you know that luck is always with me'', Unable to hold back, Bridget bursts into laughter, ''Pffft, Hahaha, yup, bad luck''. Willfrith almost chokes. Swallowing down hard, he forces the fruit piece down his throat, knocking at his chest with the apple in his grasp. He turns his flushed peeved face sharply to Bridget who is happily peeling her fruit. ''You know, it always fascinates me how the figpots protect their actual fruit within their bitter outer skin'', ''Well I find it just weird. Why would it make sense that there would be another fruit with skin hidden within''. Bridget takes a bite, savouring the ripe sweet flavour of the plum-coloured fruit, ''I remember the first time I tasted these was when we got together for the spring festival'', ''Oh right. Hehe, you were a bit chubbier then''. Bridget scrunches her face and tosses a fruit pit at Willfrith, ''I was ten!''. Willfrith giddily laughs, causing Bridget to laugh along with him.

From the corner of her eyes, Bridget spots a whole bunch of thin roots sticking out from his pocket. Noticing this Willfrith decides to ease her bubbling curiosity, ''They're Jackalroots''. ''Jackalroot?'', Bridget questions even more curious. Willfrith pulls one out from his pocket and tosses it to her to examine. ''What is it good for exactly? Wait, more importantly, what does it taste like?'', Willfrith gives a light chuckle, prompting her a to take bite, ''Go ahead, taste it'', ''Oookay, now I'm just suspicious'', Bridget hesitantly pulls the root away just before she could chew on it. Willfrith pulls out one for himself and begins chewing on it, making it seem like it's the most delicious thing to ever grace his tongue. ''Ugh, fine. I'll try it!'', Bridget stares worryingly at the small root and shakily brings it to her mouth. She scrunches her face as she starts to chew only to be surprised by how tart it tastes. ''Oh?!'', she exclaims wide-eyed, ''Not bad right?'' Willfrith gleefully smirks at her. ''Oh shut up'', She retorts playfully shoving his face away and continues chewing. 

After a few minutes, Bridget feels her muscle strain ease and turns to Willfrith. ''Pretty neat am I right? They have a numbing, hmm, or rather I should say, a paralysing poison, but they're about the same thing'', Willfrith casually states this fact with a smile, happily munching on his root. Bridget, on the other hand, stops everything she is doing, cold sweat forming along her brow and her eyes widen with panic, she quickly tosses the root in hand,  then yanks Willfrith's from his mouth. ''We barely managed to keep you alive and now you're trying to kill yourself!'', she shouts, her wide eyes staring at Willfrith with fiery concern. ''Woah, take it easy there, it's only poisonous in high doses!'', Wilfrith exclaims. Before Bridget could fully breathe out her sigh, Willfrith continues, ''Heck, it was more troublesome trying to avoid the damn jackals near their dens these things grow by''. Upon realising what he just told Bridget, Willfrith hurriedly tries to rectify his error, ''Uhm, hehe, did I say jackals, what am I talking about, silly me, I meant rabbits". Just as Willfrith finishes his sentence, Bridget grabs ahold of his cheeks, her fingers pressing firmly against them until his lips begin puckering like a fish, ''You. Went. To. A. JACKAL DEN!''. Willfrith tries to plead his case but alas it is futile. Cracking her knuckles into a fist, Bridget's looming figure hovers in front of Willfrith, ''You seem to be feeling fine if you're nimble enough to go hopping around jackal dens'', ''Bwidgeth, sowwy. No, Bwidgeth, Nooooooooo!''.

After securely cocooning Willfrith in his blanket-leaving him to lay along the grass with a view of the ants and other odd bugs lingering about, Bridget got to packing up their campsite, it was about time they get a move on. After packing the last of their things, she walks over and unravels Willfrith, ''Woah!'', ''Alright, looks like our sleepover ends here. Once we get back to the village they can take a look at your wounds". Willfrith seemed puzzled as he looked at Bridget, ''Why would we go back now? In case you have forgotten, but, my precious 'honour' is at stake". Bridget runs her fingers through her hair, trying to be understanding of what she thought was Willfrith simply being thickheaded, ''Look, I get you still want to win but in case 'you' have forgotten, you can't even hold a bow at the moment!''. Willfrith lets out a nervous chuckle yet still tries to convince her, ''Okay, a minor setback, but you can'', ''Pardon me, I don't think I heard the ridiculous things coming from your mouth", her brows furrow in annoyance. ''Wait, just hear me out. I can still walk and track, all we need is a plan''. Before she could say another word, he grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, taking steady steps toward, ''Hurry up slow poke''. Defeated and still unconvinced, Bridget reluctantly follows after him, ''If we die, just know, I'm gonna haunt you in your grave'', she grumbles.

Making their way through the thick foliage, Willfrith misses a step almost bringing him to a tumble. Briefly pausing for a moment. His breathing slightly laboured and his skin flushing lightly, reflecting the afternoon rays passing through the leaves when he spots a sturdy-looking branch lying atop a bunch of berry bushes. From behind, Bridget treads carefully, her senses on high alert with an arrow ready to fire. She scans the area as she inches closer to Willfrith, ''You alright there Will?'', she whispers. He bends down on one knee and examines the area around the berry bush- picking up some soil, rubbing it together between his fingers allowing the grains of sand to fall through, when he signals Bridget to come closer. ''A deer was grazing here'', Bridget loosens her grip on the bow and arrow as she gives some of her attention to Willfrith, ''How do you know it was a deer and not something else?''. Willfrith smugly points to the ground, revealing the deer tracks and droppings, ''I don't think anyone is that good at tracking that they can tell what animal it is from a few chewed-up bushes and broken branches, but if you happen to know anyone like that you better introduce me'', he says, chuckling softly to himself. Pursing her lips, Bridget's brow twitches irritatedly as she tries with all her might to hold herself back from giving Willfrith a punch to the head. Like casting a spell, she chants to herself, ''He is a patient, and is injured. I can't hit him now,  just give him some time to recover''. She begins to imagine Willfrith fully recovered and being able to get a beating, the thought itself bringing her a strange sense of bliss. ''It can't be too far gone. Let's move extra carefully and win this bet'', Willfrith ends his sentence while reaching for a jackal root and starts t chewing on it, holding it in place between his lips like a smoking pipe. He grabs the branch, deciding to use it as a walking stick as they start on the trail of their prey.

An hour goes by and then another, the trail getting hotter with every step they take when eventually  they come upon an opening within the forest. A small plain stretches before them. Its grounds carpeted in roots and vines all entangled over and in one another until they disappeared into nothingness. While flowers with large tall stems nestled themselves between patches of blue spongey moss. The trees growing on the edges of the plain were chilling, to say the least. Ghostly white, they stood looking like the phantoms of their lush green neighbours but were the perfect canvas for the white-spotted coal deer grazing near its edges. Its black coat- a stunning contrast in its pale surroundings. For a moment they are mesmerised, when a drangonbug zooms past their view, snapping them to reality. Bridget and Willfrith carefully manoeuvre themselves behind one of the green trees. It had a gap between one of its low thick branches, providing just the right-sized gap for Bridget to fire a shot from.

Readying herself, Bridget steadies her breath as she draws the arrow back, its fletching just kissing her cheek. She focuses and takes aim. Seconds before she is about to fire, the deer turns, making it difficult to target any of its vital points. Willfrith lightly puts his hand over the shaft while he carefully observes the deer and any better firing spots. They both wait silently in hiding, constantly watching the deer's movements. About twenty minutes go by when the deer moves towards the bunch of flowers just three meters in front of them. Bridget aims once again. With an encouraging nod from Willfrith, she sends the arrow flying. Its point cuts through the air, piercing through the deer's flesh, breaking past its ribcage, cutting through its heart. After a shocking neigh, the deer collapses to the ground. Willfrith looks at Bridget with a proud smile, impressed by her shot, ''Nice. Damn. Shot'',  He commends her with a pat on the back.

As they approach the deer, its striking coat only seems to get even more beautiful every time you look at it. Their eyes trail the creature's carcass, from its hind legs to its chest where their arrow struck. It was a clean shot, killing the deer almost instantly. Willfrith folds forward before jumping and punching the air in excitement, ''Hah haaaa, finally we can be done with this dumb bet!  'SIGH', I really need to stop talking so much''. Bridget stands idly by as she watches Willfrith with her arms folded, shaking her head from side to side with an endearing smile. While Willfrith is still celebrating and contemplating his life choices, Bridget crouches next to the deer, ''A most beautiful creature indeed'', she thinks to herself as she pats it gently across its neck. ''Thank you for your sacrifice'', she whispers before Willfrith crouches beside her, '' 'Ahem', What are you doing?''. Bridget slaps him playfully on the leg, ''We should always be respectful to the dead, whether it be animal or man, that's what mother always says''. Heeding her words Willfrith does the same as Bridget and gently pats the deer, ''Uhm, thanks, and I'm sure you're going to taste absolutely delicious''. Bridget slaps him again , this time on his head. While rubbing the back of his head, Willfrith peeps to the side from one eye at her cross-pouty face, ''What? It's true!''. Bridget rolls her eyes as she gestures at the large deer, ''So how exactly are we going transport this thing back?''. Willfrith stands up, still rubbing the back of his head, ''Well first I have to see if I still have a brain left after all that whac...!'', Giving pause, Willfrith gulps down as Bridget scrutinises his every word with a raised brow. He clears his throat, avoiding Bridget's gaze as he states, '' 'Ahem', I've got an idea''.