TravelingDreamer

  In the m, I packed the camp, a out toward the bison. I wasn’t sure exactly where they were, since I didn’t mark the location on the Map. Another facepalm—it was definitely being my signature move. But I remembered they were opposite from the town and quite far away. So, we walked in that dire all day. Stretch was overflowing with energy a running ahead and bae. The three months I spent in the cave must have been very b for him, and he seemed to feel cooped up.

  Clusters of trees dotted the ndscape, creating a stunning mix of t mountain peaks and expansive valleys dotted with trees like decorations. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the st of pine and wildflowers. In the evening, I made camp near one mountain and po climb it in the m to look for the bison. After lighting the fire aing, I took out my guitar to py, and Stretch immediately sat beside me and began to howl-sing with the music. I ughed and sang with him. It was a lot of fun; I had a bard dog.

  The following day, I climbed to the mountaintop and looked through my binocurs, but I still couldn’t see the bison. The panoramic view was breathtaking, with valleys stretg out below like a patchwork quilt of green and brown. I took some pictures of the view and fihe film. I didn’t feel like developing it right then, so I stored it for ter. Believing we were heading in the right dire, we tinued after climbing down.

  Iernoon, we reached a river I had seen from the first mountain a for a long swim. The river was wide and deep and had a very slow current, making it perfect for a zy swim. I summoned my oe and tried to get Stret it—still no dice. He just didn’t like or trust boats. I tried to reason with him and expihat it wasn’t dangerous and a lot of fun, but he didn’t believe me. When I talked, he wagged his tail and licked my face, so I thought I was getting somewhere, but the minute he saw the boat, he ran away. I tried again to carry him into it, thinking that maybe this time he’d “get it,” but again, he jumped out and swam to shore—stubborn dog.

  “Mark my words, buddy; I’ll get you in the boat one day, and you’ll love it. On that day, I’ll remind you about all the grief yiving me right now.”

  He didn’t look impressed and y down for a nap. We stayed by the river for another day; after all this time in a cave, I wao enjoy being outside. The sound of the water flowing and the birds singing was a symphony I had missed.

  On the m of the fourth day, we tinued walking. I thought Stretch burned all his excess energy because he walked by my side and didn’t venture ahead. I wasn’t in a hurry, so we walked slowly, enjoying nature. This world was so peaceful. I thought I saw another bushnd dog, or maybe it was a “real” wolf this time. It was too far away to see and ran away too quickly. Stretch didn’t react either way. It still amazed me I hardly saredators. I saw them occasionally, but only from afar and only glimpses. With the abundance of herbivore herds, I thought there should be more of them, but I hardly saw any.

  Maybe they sense us and hide?

  By te afternoon, we reached a passage between two mountains that looked more challenging, so I set up camp ahe crossing for the m. Again, I pyed and sang with Stretch—definitely a bard dog.

  I had a beer, and Stretch was very curious about it. He kept stig his muzzle itle opening, so I poured some into a small bowl and gave him a taste. He loved it and demanded more!

  My dog is a real bard—he wants to sing and drink. The day he starts to chase the dies, we’ll have a serious talk about responsibility. After ughing at my ridiculous thoughts, I poured him his own bottle.

  “If it causes you a stomach ache or something else, don’t e whining to me.”

  He pped his beer, gave me beer-smelling doggy kisses as a thank you, and tinued howl-singing.

  I love my dog.

  The following m, we crossed betweewo mountains. We had to climb up a pretty steep ine and then climb down. I almost fell twice, and I had to help Stretch for the first time. Usually, he imitated a mountain goat. It looked like the two mountains squished together, and both were pretty steep. I gave up on the idea of climbing one of them to look for the bison and looked for a “friendlier” mountain.

  We had lun the other side of the pass, rested a bit after the physical exertion, and tinued walking. In another half an hour, we reached a better mountain. It took us about three hours to climb it, and finally, I could see the bison. Although they were still far, I was sure we were headed in the right dire.

  I took some more pictures. The same area looked pletely different from every mountaintop and simply breathtaking as I took photos. Staying until su, I took photos of the view with the vibrant colors of the suhe pictures would be epic; I was sure of it. We slept on the mountaintop that night. It was ft and wide enough for a sleeping bag and a b without the danger of one of us falling off.

  In the m, we climbed down and tinued our trek. I estimated reag the bison would take awo days, and I was right. On the evening of the sed day, we reached the valley with the bison. I set camp at the entrao the valley, and we had a nice dinner with beer—yes, both of us.

  In the m, I decided to skin and butcher two bison the “regur” way to get a feel for my skills and then switch to “looting,” or at least “attempted looting.” I could always ihe meat with mana ter.

  I located the first didate and one-shot it. After the rest of the herd cleared the area, I dragged the bison to a tall and sturdy tree. When I wao open its stomach, my skill “told” me to y it on its back. I never did it like this. I usually left the carcass lying on its side. But I followed the guidance, id it on its back, opehe belly, and removed the entrails. Now, I also khat I was hanging them wrong. Turns out you hang it with the head down, not from its neck.

  Live and learn, live and learn.

  After it drained, I spread a rge pstic sheet, lowered it from the tree, and ski, following the guidany skill. It was hard work—by the time I was done, I was sweating buckets. Then I butchered it. It was easier than skinning, and I needed less “prompting” from my skill sihe butcher iown showed me twice how to butcher a carcass.

  When I was done, I decided that doing one bison the “regur” way was more than enough. It was hard physical bor, and I was covered in blood. One experience was enough for me, thank you very much.

  Even after casting three spells on myself, I still felt dirty, so I washed in the nearby stream. I couldn’t believe people did that for fun. I could uand butchers and hunters, as it was their job. But there was no ce I would go hunting for fun on weekends.

  It was already afternoon, and I had finished my work for the day. When I returo camp, I opehe cooler holding the bison and began imbuing the meat with mana. I tried to trol the mana and not explode the beef, and succeeded with most of it. Some smaller pieces “popped,” but the rest stayed whole.

  Yes!

  No more exploding carcasses.

  I cooked us bison burgers with a baked potato for me, and we had dinner. Stretch kept putting his paws on my shoulders and back, sniffing all around me and nudgih his muzzle. It was so obvious he wanted a beer! I resisted for a while—I didn’t want an alcoholic dog. But eventually, I broke down, gave him a beer, and had one myself.

  I took out my guitar and began pying. Stretch immediately started singing. The sed song I pyed was “Dang in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen, and I got up and danced while pying and singing. Stretch also got up and ran circles around me while howl-singing.

  It was good to be alive.