The Gate Traveler

The following morning, the crisp air was full of the scent of pine and damp earth. Taking deep breaths, I enjoyed the fresh smell while drinking my coffee. It was such an amazing experience waking up in the middle of the wilderness, with breathtaking views and the fresh scent of nature all around me. After breakfast, I packed up the camp, and we continued traveling. By the first day's evening, we had come out of the valley between two mountains and saw another river, its waters sparkling under the setting sun. The landscape was serene, with the gentle murmur of the river adding to the tranquility. I set up camp near the riverbank, the sound of flowing water soothing our travel-weary minds, and we had a quiet evening by the fire, the flames dancing and casting flickering shadows around us.

In the morning, hues of orange and pink painted the sky, promising a clear day ahead. I wanted to continue on the river, so I summoned one of my canoes and tried to get Stretch into the boat. He categorically refused, his eyes wide with apprehension and his body stiff. I tried everything: calling him into the boat, putting a steak in the boat, cooked bacon—nothing worked. He wouldn't hear of it. His stubborn stance and how he turned his head away from the boat said it all. I picked him up and carried him into the canoe; he jumped out and swam to shore, shaking himself off and giving me a defiant look.

"Have it your way," I muttered, resigned to his stubbornness.

I got in the boat and started paddling slowly so he could follow me on foot. He sat down on the shore and started to bark-whine loudly, his voice carrying over the water, as if I was leaving him behind. I sighed and gave up, stored the canoe, and we continued on foot, following the river. Stretch trotted beside me, occasionally glancing up as if to check that I was still there.

On the third day, Stretch barked his head off at a bush, his body tense and alert. I came closer to investigate and saw a giant porcupine. It even looked normal, like an Earth porcupine, just bigger. Stretch prepared to pounce, his muscles coiling.

"No!" I shouted, but it was too late. He got a muzzle and neck full of quills and started whining in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his tail tucked between his legs. I used my staff to push the porcupine away, I admit none too gently, cast Anesthesia, and began removing the quills one by one, each extraction causing a tiny spurt of blood and a soft whimper from Stretch. His body relaxed under the spell, and his breathing was even and calm.

When I was done, I stopped the spell, but he continued to sleep, his body sprawled out in an awkward but peaceful manner. I let him sleep it off, and when he woke up, I fed him a large meal and healed him a bit more. His tail wagged weakly, and he looked up at me with grateful eyes.

"You're an idiot; you know that? Hunt for food, Nooo. But when you see an animal with quills that can hurt you, you're all in. What were you thinking? You don't pick up a fight with a stack of needles!" I scolded him, my voice a mix of frustration and affection.

He wagged his tail harder and licked my face, his eyes full of love and apology. "Yeah, yeah, I love you too, but you're still an idiot."

Casting healing while holding the Anesthesia seemed easier for me. I thought about it and got an idea for my looting spell. I had already learned how to separate the pelt from the rest of the animal, but it kept shooting away in pieces. What if I partition my mind, half casting the "separation" spell and the other half holding the whole thing together? It should work!

I wanted to look for experiment subjects, but it was getting late. The sky was a deep shade of blue, with stars beginning to twinkle. Tomorrow then.

After I packed the camp in the morning, I told Stretch, "We need more meat for you. Today, we're going hunting." He looked pleased with the idea; his tail wagged furiously, and he bounded around me, full of energy.

After about two hours, we came to a bend in the river. On the other bank, a vast, open grassland with occasional trees stretched to the horizon, bathed in the golden light of the morning sun. It looked perfect for what I was looking for. Now, I had to figure out how to make Stretch cross the river after the boat shenanigans. I tried to convince him again to go in the boat, and it didn't work. I sat there out of ideas, feeling the weight of his stubbornness. Finally, I decided to swim to the other side and call him to cross over. At some point, he'd have to do it. I undressed and jumped in, and he jumped right in with me and started paddling like he does it every day, his strokes confident and strong. Huh.

"If you're not afraid of water, what's your problem with the boat?" He shook himself vigorously, sending droplets flying, and pelted me with wolf water. I just shook my head, chuckling softly.

When I found the largest tree, I started heading in that direction. I climbed as high as possible to look with my binoculars. The tree swayed slightly under my weight, but the view was worth it. I could see three herds, one of which looked the largest, so I chose that direction. The vast expanse of grassland was filled with grazing animals, and the sounds of nature permeated the air.

It took us another two hours to reach it. It was a herd of "mini-bison"; they looked just like bison but were cow-sized. The problem was that they were not "mini" enough. I didn't think I'd manage to hang one of them to drain or if the tree would hold. Deciding to check another herd, we moved on.

After lunch, we reached the second herd—still mini-bison. Since I suspected the third herd would be the same, going there seemed pointless. I found the tallest and sturdiest tree, climbed it, and chose a bison on the periphery. I wasn't sure my arrows could pierce their hide, so I decided on an eye shot—bulls-eye! Or bison-eye, in this case. Ha, that's probably the term's origin. The rest of the herd ran away, their hooves thundering against the ground. Good.

Stretch danced around the downed bison, anticipating his heart and liver. I put them in a big bowl for him, and he eagerly dug in, his tail wagging in delight. I dragged the bison, feeling the strain in my muscles, and had no problem hanging it, but the tree looked like it might break. Those stats are no joke!

Stretch was sitting by the bowl, looking at me expectantly, his eyes bright with anticipation.

"What?" I asked, feigning ignorance.

He pushed the bowl toward me with his nose.

"You want this cooked too?"

He wagged his tail.

"You had no problem with it raw before."

He wagged his tail harder, his eyes pleading.

"You're getting spoiled, you know that?"

He came over, put his front paws on my shoulders, and licked my face.

"Okay, okay, I'll cook it for you."

After he ate his cooked treats and the bison drained, I tried my new idea for the looting spell. On one side of my mind, I put the "separation," and on the other, the "stay together." The pelt shot past me, so I went looking for it and found a big misshapen ball of pelt. I tried to spread it but couldn't; it was fused together. Why is it so hard?! What am I missing? It wasn't a total failure; it did stay together instead of flying away in strips and pieces, but still. I just want to loot a whole pelt. Is it too hard to ask?

I switched my focus and tried to work on the meat portion of the spell.

No exploding—so less mana and control it better. Have it all stay on the plastic sheet—add that to the intention. Separate the meat from the bones—I'll use the same technique I use for pelt separation. Cutting into steaks? I had to think about it, then devoted the second partition to this issue and visualize a big stack of steaks. So, partition one, separate from the bones, no shooting away. Partition two, cut into chunks that stay put.

I concentrated hard, ran the mental pictures a few times to verify they were right, and started channeling my mana. For almost a minute, nothing happened, and then suddenly, there was a pop, and I had a giant mound of finely minced meat.

Oh well, at least most of it stayed on the plastic sheet.

I just sat there shaking my head and sighing deeply, feeling a mixture of frustration and determination.

It was sort of progress; the pelt stayed together, and the bison didn't explode, but the dream of looting a clean whole pelt and a nice stack of steaks seemed so far away. And I had to find a solution where to store a giant heap of minced meat.

I summoned the fruits and vegetables coolers and a lot of baskets, moved them all to the baskets, summoned a shovel, cast Clean and Purify on it, cast three of each of the meat, and began shoveling meat into the coolers—sighing deeply and shaking my head during the whole process. The repetitive shoveling motion was almost meditative, though tinged with a sense of resignation.

I checked my available space in the newly emptied coolers and saw I could store one other bison, but my mana was getting low, a bit over a thousand. So, I set up camp, buried the bones and pelt ball, kept some leg bones for Stretch to gnaw on, cast a cleaning spell on the plastic sheet, and sat down to read a book while regenerating. I stopped reading after 10 minutes; it was too disheartening. The MC and his party were fighting, and he was looting spirit coins and other cool stuff left and right, and I was stuck with a year's supply of hamburger meat and buried a pelt ball. I switched to my guitar, strumming softly to lift my spirits. Sighing deeply every few minutes.

It took me two days to regenerate fully, and I was ready for my next attempt, feeling more optimistic. I thought long and hard about where I went wrong and had some ideas for improvement—the time spent reflecting had given me a new perspective and renewed determination.

After shooting another bison, draining it, and cooking Stretch's treats, I was ready for my next attempt. This time, in the first partition, I put the separation spell and the intention to stay put and not shoot into the distance, and in the second partition, the "keep together" version but with the intention to keep its original shape and cast it. The pelt shot up a few meters in the air and fell on me, covering me completely. I laughed, pulling the pelt off and inspecting it. It looked whole! I started dancing Gangnam Style and didn't even feel self-conscious. Stretch ran around me in excitement, yipping loudly. I even didn't care about all the blood on me from the pelt.

Yes! I'm a "looter"!

Next, I moved to the meat. I did everything like the day before—it mostly worked after all—but in the second partition, I emphasized that the meat chunks should be steak size, not minced meat. Again, this part needed a longer channeling. There was a pop, and I had a year's supply of stew chunks. Oh, well, at least the pieces were bigger; it's still progress.

After storing, burying, and cleaning the equipment and pelt, I decided it was time to move on. We still had half a day and could cover a lot of ground. The path ahead felt full of promise, and despite the setbacks, I felt more confident in my abilities and eager for the next looting attempt.