My hands fly everywhere over the dead song in a flurry while constantly looking over my shoulder, forming a desperate new beat. I remove a strange, heavy enclosure made from more skins that was strung over his shoulders. Also, there’s a large piece covering his torso and back. A new layer of strong skin for me, the conqueror. The winner. My spoils! His skins become mine. A deep recess of my mind lunges out briefly to cheer with me in celebration.

  The skin coverings from the considerably larger man weigh me down and hang below my feet, but I refuse to leave them behind. There’s a long, string-like skin tied around his waist with more enclosures and other dangly bits hanging from it. Taking all these too, I use the waist string to secure the big skin cover higher so that it doesn’t trip my feet as I run.

  His feet skins are far too big for me, so they stay. I fear I can’t take any more from his legs either since the top alone is almost completely overwhelming me. Must leave all of the rest behind. However, there’s this large, curved stick. It’s so strange. Maybe a club? I won’t say no to another weapon. Something inside says that being violence rich will never be a problem.

  This is enough. Can’t carry any more. With a final glance over my shoulder, I set off running again. In the hurry, I clumsily trip and fall several times exactly as I did before on the way here. Too loud! Too slow! And it hurts! Why?

  I think back to the pursuing song. To their gentle, quick, constant beat. The rapid, light tapping along this uneven forest floor. It was so precise, so purposeful. As I ponder, my mind shifts hard again, adding to the pain from another face first fall. Lifting myself back up off the ground, I deeply scowl down at my tiny, awkward limbs. How have I ever managed to move forward? It’s been nothing but mere wild scrapings at the ground with aimless feet and an occasional hand for support.

  No wonder, no wonder! I must be more intentional. I must intend each step of a foot and each raise of a knee. Use my arms for balance. Well, perhaps only the one for now. Also, my body can’t constantly turn, twist, and swing in nonstop paranoia. My head and neck alone are enough. This will keep the balance.

  My stumbling almost crawl begins to fade and I gradually transition into a far more artful jog. My feet tap lightly against the ground, rapidly moving my body forward now. Ha! I’ve stolen his song. Not only his skin, but even his very being is now mine! Who’s the big one now?

  The careful, productive jog continues on until dusk. I want to be as far from those men as possible. If they find their dead brother and get angry, then they might pursue. However, if I’m far from that tricky, knotty tree, then how would they ever find me? They can only give up and be satisfied with those of mine that they’ve already bled.

  Exhausted, I choose a good tree to climb up for a break. Hidden amongst its branches, I can avoid the prying eyes of any more unknown parties sneaking around out here. I’d really prefer another cave or hole. It’s so disgustingly clean, bright, and colorful up here compared to home. However, have to take what I can get for now. Priority one is hiding. Priority one is safety.

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  A buzzing pain rears up from inside my head in rebellion to the last thought. A powerful instinct to jump down and sprint back towards the big ones lashes out and attempts to steal my will. Join your brothers. Glory. Make them pay. Glory. Make them bleed. Glory.

  No! I beat it back down beneath the dark, milky mud ever present inside my mind. The interruption re-buried, I lay back and sigh. Whatever that was will be the end of me. I can’t take the big ones alone. That’s nonsense. An unsuccessful revenge is no revenge at all. Have to find a new, better path for striking back. All of me must resist this urge springing forth from this mind mud. Maybe I can cough and gag it out like I did the mud from my lungs and stomach? But how, but how.

  Settled into a join between the boughs, I distract myself by rooting through my spoils to better learn what I’ve won. These heavy skin enclosures are strange. They simply wrap other objects. Is it so they don’t fall off while attached to me, I suppose? That’s convenient. After all, I only have two hands to hold things. Well, only one hand right now, therefore only one wielded weapon. One metal. Aside from my mouth? No, I can’t fight with my mouth! Can I? Regardless, with these I can carry even more precious metal. Good plunder.

  My hands search and pry deep inside of the great big shoulder enclosure. There’s so much inside! One by one I take everything out and arrange everything around the crook of boughs forming my seat. More metal. Some wood. Many sticks. Small shiny metals! They must be good bits. Rocks. More rocks. More skins. And skins that wrap… thinner skins? Plant skins? How strange.

  Stranger still, I discover a series of oddly shaped, smooth, hard stones. They’re bulged at the base and narrow at the top with a piece of wood capping them. Strangest, they bear a striking similarity to the light displaying pictures in the cavern at home. Specifically, I can somehow see inside? Liquids dance when I shake them. Are they all little trapped worlds like the one I’m in now?

  By chance, during a particularly hard shake, the wood piece on top pops off. A thick, red liquid spills out onto my lap before I can stop it, splattering my legs. It burns somewhat, especially my scraped knees, and emits a bit of white smoke.

  Fire? That’s bad! Leaping up, I accidentally strike my head hard against an overhead branch, causing me to double over from the sharp pain. Rolling around in the small crevice amongst my precious treasures, I urgently grab a branch before I fall. After steadying myself, I look down at the mess and realize that the scrapes on my knees are gone.

  I hear a loud pop as if somewhere far away, and my mind shifts. The pain from striking my head masks this lesser new one, and I stare deeply at the special, red world rock still holding most of the liquid inside. This is very, very valuable. Maybe best valuable.

  Taking it tenderly in my good hand, I immediately bring it to my lips and drink. It’s soothing at first, but after hitting my stomach, the burning erupts from inside. It itches! Should I not have let it in? More stupid mud to spit and cough out.

  Somehow, my mind insists that I stay still. Hold on to it. Keep it safe inside me. Treasure it and wait. Soon the burning reaches my shoulder and hand. It reaches the back of my freshly sore wounded head. Everywhere where there was once pain, it now burns. After the burning recedes, all the pain is gone.

  I tentatively move the arm of my shattered shoulder. It performs exactly as requested. I put my weight on it. No pain! The injury is really gone? What a wondrous, special rock indeed.