4:40 PM, 22nd of December, 1728.

  He stood on the outskirts of the city, the same spot he had entered from the day before, and looked up at the cliff that he had previously descended on vines. Having no way to ascend the sheer cliff, he walked along the side of it until he found a steep path up.

  The forest was dense and lively, birds singing songs as the wind ruffled the leaves high above Alexander’s head. The wind caressed his face too, the feeling still foreign to him when he felt it for the second time in the present.

  Walking deeper into the forest, he tried to keep his steps quiet and steady so as not scare away anything he may be able to catch. After feeling like he was in a good spot, he climbed up onto a low-hanging branch of a tree, thinking it a good spot to wait.

  He lay on that branch for nearly an hour, not a single animal coming within his field of view, but just before he was about to give up and head back, stomach empty, something caught his attention. The forest was dense, but through the trees ahead of him, he saw a boar with its snout stuffed in the ground, likely attempting to eat a bug or plant.

  Slowly descending the tree he was positioned on, and trying not to make any noise, he reached the ground. The boar hadn’t noticed him, but it was still quite far away, not nearly close enough to strike. He crouched low to the ground and slowly made his way towards the pig.

  The wind blew against his face as he made way, letting him know he was downwind and unlikely to be made by his scent.

  With only moments left before he would reach the bore, a leaf crunched below his frontmost foot, the sound seeming amplified as Alexander kept his breath bated. He froze, not putting his foot down, instead looking down, making sure to miss the dead leaf that previously alerted the boar.

  His newfound Authority was already helping him.

  The hog was almost within arm's reach when it looked up at him and let out a disgusting squeal. Alexander expected it to run away, scared of the towering man before it, but instead, it looked at him almost angrily, before planting its back feet in the dirt below it and charging forward.

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  He saw it coming, of course, but was so close in proximity that he barely had enough time to react, landing on his side as he jumped away.

  The boar turned around, ready to charge again. Alexander still lay on the ground as it came up upon him, barely rolling out of the way and avoiding the strike. He wasn’t sure how much it would hurt, but he didn’t want to find out.

  Finding his bearings, he rose to his feet again, gripping the dagger in his pocket and pulling it out. Unaware of how to hold it correctly, he simply held it in the way that felt most natural, like a kitchen knife.

  The boar was ready to charge again, anger in its eyes. This time, though, Alexander was ready. He lowered himself to the ground, the blade held down by his ankle. The boar ran, fast as ever, aiming for the same leg that the dagger was held by.

  Alexander ran forward, meeting the boar along its path and thrusting the dagger deep into its throat. The dagger didn’t stop the hog’s momentum, though. Running on its last life, it pulled Alexander to the ground with it, tearing the dagger out of his hand, the blade still lodged in its gullet.

  They both lay there, Alexander still, and the boar squirming about, holding onto its last ounce of life. He stood, grabbing the blade and continuing the cut along its throat, finishing it off. Grabbing the boar by the hind legs, he struggled to lift its limp body off the ground, but managed, barely. He dragged the boar over to the nearest tree, wedging its hind legs in between a branch to let it bleed out the excess blood before bringing it back to the inn.

  -

  Boar slung over his back, his hands covered in its blood, Alexander walked back into the city, drawing the attention of a few onlookers. The sky was dark, and so was the street, illuminated only by the night sky. Only a few people dotted the street, made up of mostly workers heading home for the night, before they would rise again early the next morning to get back to work.

  Alexander would be joining them soon in that routine, though he still felt out of place.

  The inn was lively, much more so than when he had arrived that same morning, filled with dozens of people, most of whom had likely stopped by to eat before heading home.

  Seeing the boar slung over his back, a man sat at a table called over to him, “He’s brought the food! Let me get some of that!”

  His friends, sitting with him, let out hearty laughs, their faces red from the obvious copious amount of alcohol they had been consuming.

  Before Alexander could respond, someone else spoke up for him, “Very funny, Raymond. You actually managed to do it even without your sense of sight, huh, Alexander?” It was Anissa who replied, serving a customer a large plate of food, her eyebrows raised and a smile on her face.

  “I told you I could probably manage, didn’t I?”

  “I guess you did, now let me take that from you, I’ll cook it up.” She paused, looking up at the hands that held the boar's legs, “You go get washed up, you look like you just crawled out of a grave, kid.”

  Glad to oblige, he made his way up the stairs and to the bathroom, the busy atmosphere of the dining area leaving his senses moderately overwhelmed. After a quick shower, he removed his overcoat, washing it in a simple cleaning bucket and hanging it in the window of his room.

  He went back downstairs, grabbed a plate of his now-cooked boar, and brought it back to his room, the warmth of the meat making his entire body feel like it had been embraced, and his stomach now feeling satiated.