[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/inS0Xvb.png[/img][/center]
[hider=Character]
[u][b]Skills[/b][/u]
[list]
[*]Master of Seas ★★★★★★
[*]Element Resistance ★★★
[*]Combat Sense ★
[*]Iron Skin ★
[/list]
[u][b]Inventory[/b][/u]
[list]
[*]Nicked One-Handed Sword
[*]Rope
[/list]
[/hider]
What?

As he pulled the arrow out, leaving only a gaping hole where the bulb-shaped point had been, Belo’s eyes widened at what exactly he was seeing. The child, despite having shed so much blood, was still moving about. In real time, he watched as a scab formed within the gloom of the tunnel system, watched as the loss of blood from the open wound slowed, watched as they cried meekly, having wrested their mind away from unconsciousness. It was entirely inconceivable to him. There were grown men who would’ve keeled over from less than a quarter-sized hole in their body, but this gangly creature held on.

For a bit longer, at the very least.

Belo took in a deep breath, steadying himself. Even with the cries of the child, the ones that pursued them did not find them out yet. And, strangely enough, even without the sky and stars above him, even after being turned around so many times within the dense foliage, he had a clear sense of where they were, relative to the beach. Those pale-skinned soldiers had come from the sea, their vessels too grand, too well-built to belong to the ones that he shared a similar visage to. He would have to go further in-land then, away from the coast. And as for the one that was with him…

With his sword, he cut strips of bandages off the sleeves and the hem, tying it best he could around the child. The length of rope that he had with him was turned into a harness. It wouldn’t be comfortable, but with it, he could secure the child on his back, or swap them to his front. Whichever the situation needed. Whichever would be better for letting his own body be a shield, rather than the child. There were strange fortunes afoot, regardless. He was tired, but he recovered quickly. He was in pitch-black, and yet could still see well enough to navigate. He knew nothing about this new world that the spirit had deposited him in, and yet he still somehow knew where he was. If he closed his eyes, if he calmed his mind, he even gained awareness of something else.

He was gripped by a certainty. A certainty that a storm was brewing.

Putting on the child-carrying harness and ignoring the sticky dampness of blood and urine, Belo took in another deep breath, drew his sword, and continued into the darkness of the tunnels, his pace entering that of a light jog as he searched for…

For what?

An underground community with medical supplies and friendly inhabitants would be good, but an exit from the tunnels back to the surface would be acceptable too. If there were fishing villages and pirate-murderers, there would be civilization too. There would be forges for smithing steel, there would be lumber mills for processing wood, there would be farmers and butchers, craftsmen and doctors.

Other tribes, he could hope, who could foster a child.

Other tribes, he could hope, who would be willing to join him in his counterattack.