Resurgence

My eyes flicker open. Where am I? I sit up and let my eyes adjust to the their surroundings.

I appear to be on a table in a bright white room. A few feet in front of me is a door. Nothing else of note appears to be present in the room.

...How long was I asleep? My muscles feel weak, as though they haven't been used for a long time. My head feels light, as though it is not entirely ready to be set upright.

My last memory was of a beautiful forest. I had gone hunting. I'd swum in the stream.

...Where am I?

I will myself to stand. I take two steps and reach for the door. I open it wide to find darkness in my path. Darkness so void of light that the light of the room itself starts to fade, and begins to be sucked away into the dark expanse before me.

And now I see nothing. The light is gone.

A.R. Kwell

Goodnight

Another long day. I don't even know why I'm writing this now, as I'm almost too tired to do so. More hunting today, though I let a lot of the animals go this time. I'm also stuffed from eating so much meat from yesterday's hunt.

I think I'll relax tomorrow. Maybe sleep in and go for a run. I don't know how long I'll stay here, but I'm enjoying it.

A.R. Kwell

Hunting Aftermath

I didn't end up hunting at all last night, as once I finished building my shelter and lay down in the bed of pine needles and leaves I'd made for myself, I realized just how tired I was, and fell right asleep. Today, however, I've been hunting all day. The early hours of the morning were spent making snares and various hunting tools with the materials I could find around me, and the rest of the day was spent laying those snares and hunting game.

A bear lies about two yards away from me as I write, unmoving. A bit to its left is a pile consisting of six rabbits and two raccoons. I may have went a little overkill, but I'd forgotten how much I enjoy hunting. I'm not going to be able to eat all of the meat before it goes bad.

The animals in this place are an enigma, though. I saw many different animals, and many that I had never seen together in the same climate before. What's more, I saw a number of animals that I'm not sure I have even heard of before.

I really have no clue where in the world I am.

A.R. Kwell

Hjem

The day was long, and I made great progress. I've come across a nice, sheltered area near a great river. The weather in this place feels like mid-spring, one of the only times of the year that is neither too hot nor too cold. The air feels clean and refreshing, and the color green is everywhere.

The trees, the grass, the water; it's all so beautiful. It makes me want to stay here, and I may do just that. From now on I'll call this spot "Hjem." I'll have to remember that if I ever come back.

I think I'll go hunting tonight. I haven't hunted in ages. I'm more used to being hunted. Yes, I'm going to have a great time.

A.R. Kwell

Discovering the Grasslands

I don't know what had happened, but for the following three days, I didn't need any food, water or sleep. It was as though some magical power was giving me the strength to continue through that very strange song. However, at the end of the third day, I was barely able to start a fire before falling to the ground and embracing asleep.

When I awoke, I found I had no idea where I was. I had been sleeping on grass. Just ten feet from the remains of the fire, in the direction whence I had come, began the ocean of snow that I had traversed for what now seemed liked ages. In the opposite direction was grass and trees as far as the eye could see. A stream flowed, unfrozen, no more a half klick away.

I looked at these sights and cried. The strange song finally left my head. I had traveled across the frozen desert and survived.

A.R. Kwell

On the Backs of Angels

I fell asleep and dreamed that I was on the back of an angel. When I woke I felt completely refreshed, and even a little warm. I saw that the storm had subsided outside.

A very awkward yet intriguing tune sang through my head, and it kept with me for much of the journey ahead.

Standing on the backs on angels . . .

A.R. Kwell

The Travelling Outcast

Through the lands of winter snow, the lands of icy cold.

I am the Travelling Outcast. Kwell is my name. I know it's an unusual name, but it is mine nonetheless. I travel the world, though I know not which. Snow is falling outside the cave, and my coat is barely warm enough to keep me warm. For now, I have a fire to warm me, but I cannot stay here forever.

Who am I? Where did I come from? Perhaps I'll tell you someday. For now, I'm going to sleep. I pray that I'll wake up in the morning.

A.R. Kwell