"Man cannot remake himself without suffering, for he is both the marble and the chisel."
The dead silence within the dark forest made his skin crawl, and his hairs to stand on end. A feeling of danger constantly kept him on edge.
His body had already started to respond, adrenaline surged through his veins as his heart began to beat faster in an effort to keep him alert and full of energy.
There were no birds, no mammals, no invertebrates, and no insects. The shadows almost seemed to move and warp. There was no source of light, only an ominous dark green glow that shone bright enough to see.
The soil beneath his feet was soft, and damp. He could see small bones poking out here and there, but there was only dead foliage around him.
The tree's extremely tall, towering above him like silent giants. Vines dangled, but didn't sway with the wind, because there was no wind.
As he became more alert, he could taste the metallic electricity in the air. A storm was coming.
The forest was dark, but it was made up of weird colors, dark but very reflective colors. There was the normal green color, but some plants were completely purple or red, even white.
'I don't think I'm on earth anymore..' Amaranthus thought to himself with nervousness. The vivid dreams he had, had thoroughly shaken him to his core, but even then he didn't recognize any of the vegetation around him.
Anybody who has ever had to go against their core beliefs and values knows the feeling, and those who had to do it throughout there lifetime know it intimately. It's a hollow feeling of distress, shame, anger, and injustice.
Within in instant, he realized his state of mind.
'I have to be calm and collected. Assess the situation, identify the problem, realize your goals, and execute a solution. One step, at a time.'
This was a careful plan that was the most adaptable within most situations. Humans need routine, break their routine and you could break them.
...
Amaranthus figured that within situations of unfamiliarity or hostility, it's important to have an instinct that comes from routine. It'll become second nature to execute the grounding technique after frequent utilization. Panic is the difference between life and death in many situations.
The grounding technique for some, is a cup of coffee at their new work. For others it's an inspirational video, meditation is also a thing. But they lack the adaptability of a self-reliant technique.
All of it works, yes; But only within certain context.
The point is, staying calm and having something to rely on to confront new challenges is the goal. If you are bound by circumstance, then the chances of you facing peril and panicking is stacked against you.
...
'I need shelter, for this first month. I already have food and water, and it will last me thirty days. After realizing his need, he now needed to find a solution.
Shelter can be anything that protects you from the elements. With that definition in mind, Amaranthus cautiously started exploring the immediate area.
When stepping on the soil, he couldn't hear the sounds of squishy wet mud, nor the cracking of the small bones scattered around him.
It felt as if his two ears were clogged after blowing his nose, and no matter what he did, he couldn't pop them.
As he moved forward, he saw a small hill made up of rocks. The rocks themselves had moss and vines covering their surfaces, but without a doubt they were a small hill of rocks.
He quickened his pace as he crouch-walked.
The closer he got, the better his prospects became. Although there wasn't a cave, he saw a small formation of rocks that..
The rocks are actually large boulders.. And the hill was similar to a small mountain, even the vines resembled Pythons!
He didn't realize just how big the boulders were until he got closer to them. They were about his height and all piled onto each other.
Luckily, because of their size the spaces inbetween them was enough for Amaranthus to make a small opening, a sort of personal cave.
He moved aside some of the vines that draped over the perfect spot, afterwards he started digging at the soil beneath the boulders.
The soil is wet and cold, his fingers becoming numb as he kept digging.
After a couple of hours of digging he finally had his little man-made cave. He quickly put down his backpack and opened its top bundle. Inside, it contained a small two-person tent, and a thermal layer that could cover a six-person tent.
He carefully covered the walls, floor and makeshift ceiling with the thermal layer that also acted as a tarp. Afterwards he grabbed the camouflage top and spiked it to a couple boulders, only then did he move the vines back in place.
He took a few steps back to get a good look at his camouflaged shelter after he finished its interior. He almost lost it when he turned back to see it.
After making sure everything was alright, he entered back inside. He had to think about his next move.
...
After Amaranthus fell asleep, the boulders shifted lightly. The little pebbles that adorned the dark grey, moss covered boulders, fell. A low Rumble resounded through the air, earth and trees.