When Clara awoke, the rain had already eased into a light drizzle. The woods were damp and shrouded in a thick white fog.
In weather like this, forget about animals—even people would stay indoors.
She recalled how Old Walter had said it would rain over the next couple of days. Seemed the old farmer was quite accurate at reading the sky.
She only wondered if the rain would delay wheat planting.
But that was the least of her concerns right now. Clara picked out a rabbit, skinned it, cleaned the meat, and set it over the fire to roast—breakfast and lunch rolled into one.
With her stomach filled, she got back to work handling the remaining six rabbits.
By midday, all seven were cleaned and skinned. The hides were remarkably intact, and after a quick rub with plant ash, she roasted all the meat together.
It'd be easy enough to reheat later, and carrying cooked meat was much more convenient. Fortunately, with temperatures dropping, the roasted rabbit should keep for two to three days—just enough to last her a while.
Clara had a big appetite, her energy needs matching her physical output. If she truly ate her fill, these seven rabbits would only last two days.
By noon, the rain had stopped completely. A sliver of sunlight peeked through the clouds, and steam rose from the forest floor, bringing with it a pungent earthy smell. Mosquitoes came buzzing, and small animals began to cautiously emerge from their dens.
Clara covered up the cave entrance, grabbed her weapons, and set out to find the water source.
Along the way, she noticed tracks from several wild animals—mostly wolves and monkeys. It looked like at least one wolf pack and one monkey troop lived in the area.
Monkeys weren't worth much. Since they bore too close a resemblance to humans, people in Sheng Country avoided eating or hunting them.
The wolves were mostly gray wolves. Their meat wasn't good, but their pelts fetched a decent price.
However, wolves were pack hunters. With her current gear, provoking a pack was as good as signing her own death warrant. Clara gave their trails a wide berth.
Snakes were rare this time of year. Most stayed in their burrows.
Even the few she passed didn't interest her. If anything, the snakes saw her and panicked, slithering back into the underbrush in a flash.
On her way to the water source, Clara loosed two arrows—taking down a yellow weasel and a roe deer.
Thanks to yesterday's practice, her aim had improved significantly. She'd intentionally avoided killing shots, letting both creatures live long enough for a proper chase.
The weasel was especially slippery—small, fast, and agile. Had its tail not been dragging an arrow and caught in some branches, Clara would've had to chase it even farther.
After catching it alive, the little thing bared its teeth and tried to bite her. Clara knocked it out with a quick slap.
The deer wasn't dumb, but deep in the mountains, animals rarely encountered humans. It had been munching on leaves, unaware of her approach, until her arrow lodged in its front leg. Only then did it start bolting in pain and panic.
But with its larger body and size, it was a much easier target than the weasel. One loop of her rope, and it was down in a heap, trussed up and dragged back.
In a forest like this, branches were plentiful. Clara chopped down a thick one, lashed her two catches to either end, and slung it over her shoulder on the way to the spring.
The water source sat in a natural dip at the mountain's peak—a small pond likely fed by an underground spring. The water was shallow and crystal clear. Shockingly, it even had fish.
Tracks lined the edges, signs of small animals that had come to drink. Clara set down her load, found a clean spot, and washed her face. Then she decided to try her luck with the fish.
To her surprise, the fish didn't even try to escape. They moved so sluggishly that she could grab them with ease.
In no time at all, Clara had caught six fish, each about two to three pounds. She strung them together with grass rope and hung them on the other side of her pole, then filled a bamboo tube with fresh spring water. Dinner tonight would be a feast.
Dusk was when the mountain beasts were most active. Clara left the spring early and found a hiding spot nearby to observe.
About two kilometers from the water source, she came upon a pile of fresh droppings—clearly left after the rain stopped.
She might not be able to name every crop in the field, but when it came to droppings from large animals, one look and she knew what she was dealing with.
Black bear scat—and from its size, an adult male.
Clara's heart surged with excitement… and a bit of worry.
Bears had excellent hearing, and in this season, with food still plentiful, they were busy bulking up for hibernation. That meant they rarely ventured out unnecessarily. Catching one wouldn't be easy.
But now that she knew one was nearby, she had no intention of letting it go.
As night fell, Clara returned to her cave with the day's haul. While roasting a fish for dinner, she mulled over ways to lure the black bear out.
But the heavens had other plans. Rain returned that night—on and off—for two whole days.
Clara lay inside the cave, staring at the trapped deer, the yellow weasel, and a few wild chickens and squirrels she'd caught along the way. She wasn't ready to give up and head down the mountain.
She didn't hesitate for long. Deciding to stay put, she hunkered down in the cave, waiting for the right moment.
It had now been four days since Clara had entered the mountain.
The rain had barely stopped during that time, falling intermittently without end.
Thankfully, Brandon had taken her advice. On the very first day, he and his two brothers had managed to plant all the wheat seeds Clara left behind.
Had they waited even half a day longer, the two acres of land would've gone to waste.
With each autumn rain came a drop in temperature. In just four short days, the air had turned significantly colder.
In the thatched cottage at the far end of Liew Village, Adam and Ben had lit a fire inside. But no matter how it blazed, the wind still found its way in. The fire alone wasn't enough. Eventually, all four siblings bundled up in bed together, wrapped tightly in blankets near the fire, barely warm enough to stop shivering.
The last of the taro Clara had left them was eaten this morning—and even then, it wasn't enough to fill their bellies.
Outside, the ground was soaked in mud. Adam and Ben wanted to go dig for wild greens, but it was impossible.
If they got caught in the rain and fell ill, with no money for medicine, it would be a death sentence.
It had been days since Clara disappeared. Deb counted on her fingers each passing day, asking the same question daily:
"Big Brother, when is Mom coming back?"
Today, she finished counting all four fingers and asked again, "Big Brother, why hasn't Mom come back yet?"
Chad leaned in and whispered to Ben, "What if… she's not coming back at all?"
Ben shot him a glare. "Don't talk nonsense. She'll come back when the rain stops."
Chad went quiet for a moment. But his little brows furrowed, and he couldn't help voicing his worry: "Second Brother… what if she's already been eaten by a wild animal?"
As soon as the words left his mouth, Deb burst into tears. "Waaah! I don't want Mom to get eaten!"
Her sobs filled the room, and the others fell silent.
Three seconds passed.
Then Chad couldn't hold it in either. He started crying too, wiping his eyes with his tiny fists. Between hiccups, he choked out: "Auntie doesn't want us anymore. She must've run away…"
Ben looked anxiously at Adam. "Big Brother… did she really leave us?"
Adam looked at the crying twins, then at Ben's uneasy face. The doubt that had been building in his heart now swelled into a full-blown storm—he felt betrayed, abandoned, sour and angry all at once. He clenched his teeth, ready to scold them into forgetting her.
But just then, a knock came at the door.
(End of Chapter)