He gripped the dagger, the worn leather of the hilt unfamiliar but solid against his palm, the cold steel a point of focus in the swirling chaos. Heart hammering a frantic rhythm against his ribs, he locked his gaze onto the charging wolf, a blur of dark fur, panicked eyes, and bared teeth. He forced down the pain throbbing in his leg, suppressed the paralysis threatening to lock his muscles, and channelled every iota of focus, every desperate calculation, into this single, improbable action.
He threw.
His arm moved, a jerky, untrained motion fuelled by pure adrenaline. The dagger left his hand, spinning slightly off-axis, a glint of reflected firelight against the encroaching shadows. It wasn't the clean, precise trajectory he would have programmed, it was a desperate prayer flung into the void. For a heart-stopping fraction of a second, it seemed destined to miss entirely. Trajectory deviation: ~7 degrees off optimal predicted path...
Thud.
The blade struck the wolf high on its front leg, just above the paw, biting deep with a solid impact.
A sharp, startled yelp erupted from the wolf. Its forward momentum collapsed instantly, front legs buckling. It tumbled onto the forest floor in a chaotic heap of fur and limbs, landing hard.
William stared, arm still half-extended, breath held. Did... did that actually work? He blinked, needing to visually confirm the data. The wolf was down, yelping, scrambling futilely. Result: Successful intercept and incapacitation of target via low-probability projectile strike. Conclusion: High tolerance for error in target's motor function, or significant positive influence from variable 'Luck'. Probability estimate requires recalibration. A shaky, almost hysterical laugh threatened to bubble up. "Remarkable," he thought, sarcastic disbelief washing over him. "I must have rolled a natural 20, or my years of desk-bound simulation analysis translate directly to kinetic projectile proficiency. Maybe the Olympic scouts missed their opportunity to recruit me."
Edward, who had already taken a step forward to intercept the wolf himself, froze mid-stride, his lightning-infused sword still raised, surprise clearly etched on his usually stoic face. Julia, who had started weaving another pattern of light, lowered her hands, the gathering energy dissipating, her expression a mixture of profound relief and open admiration directed straight at William.
The wolf, whimpering now, struggled to its feet, its injured leg dangling uselessly. It was clearly no longer a threat, only a wounded, frightened animal. Edward gave William a brief, sharp nod, a silent acknowledgment of the unexpected but effective intervention, maybe even a flicker of approval, before striding purposefully towards the crippled creature. With the same grim efficiency he'd shown dispatching the alpha, he ended its suffering with a swift, clean thrust of his still-faintly-crackling blade. Mercy subroutine executed, William noted numbly.
A heavy silence descended upon the small clearing, broken only by the pop and crackle of the dying fire and the ragged, hitching breaths of the three humans. The immediate violence was over. The adrenaline that had flooded William's system began its rapid retreat, leaving behind a bone-deep weakness. His legs trembled uncontrollably, forcing him to slump against the rough bark of a nearby tree. The throbbing in his injured leg, momentarily ignored, surged back with fiery vengeance. Exhaustion settled into his core, heavy and complete.
He'd done it. He'd faced a charging Tallenwood wolf, a creature designed by evolution for predation, and contributed. Not just survived, but actively participated in their collective victory, however improbable his success. "New skill unlocked: Improvised Dagger Throw (Proficiency: Minimal, Luck-Dependent)," he thought dryly. "Wonder if I can add that to my LinkedIn profile. Might pair well with 'Advanced Data Analytics'."
Edward sheathed his sword with a final shing, the last sparks of lightning winking out as the blade slid home. He walked over to where William leaned against the tree. His expression was difficult to read, the usual gruffness mostly back in place, but there was a subtle softening around his eyes, a hint of something new, respect. "Not bad," Edward rumbled, the words seemingly costing him some effort. It was, William recognized, high praise from this hardened warrior. "For an outsider. Good arm. Quick thinking." He paused, his gaze assessing William again, perhaps recalibrating. "You might just survive this after all."
Julia was already kneeling beside William, her gentle touch on his arm a startling contrast to the recent brutality. Concern filled her green eyes. "Are you alright, William?" she asked softly. "Did it hurt you anywhere else?"
He winced as he shifted his weight slightly. "My leg…" he began, the word ending on a slight gasp as pain flared. "It's… definitely registering on the pain scale. But I think I'm okay otherwise. Functionally intact, mostly."
"Let me see," Julia insisted. Her fingers were surprisingly deft as she gently examined the edges of the bandage without removing the poultice beneath. "The bleeding seems to have stopped completely now. But it's still inflamed. We need to get you to Sharwood, clean this properly, apply a fresh dressing." She glanced at the now-inert leaf matter peeking out. "The citrusroot definitely helped stabilize it, slowed the infection significantly. But it's not a miracle cure."
Meanwhile, Edward, ever the pragmatist, had turned his attention to the wolf carcasses. With practiced efficiency, born of grim necessity, he began field-dressing one of the smaller wolves Julia had initially struck down, his movements quick and economical as he used a smaller utility knife from his belt. "Waste not, want not," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, his actions devoid of sentimentality. "Wolf meat's tough, gamey. But it's food. Pelts provide warmth, or trade."
William watched, a queasy mixture of fascination and disgust churning within him. He understood the logic, resources were resources, especially here, but the sight of the creature that had been trying to tear him apart moments ago being expertly dismembered was jarring. It looked too much like the dogs he'd known back on Earth, companions, pets. Resource acquisition protocol initiated by Edward. Logic: Valid in high-scarcity environment. Waste reduction: Optimal. User emotional response: Negative (conflicting data - learned aversion to processing predator resembling domesticated companion species vs. survival imperative). Processing conflict... allocating to low priority queue. "Best not to dwell on the existential implications of turning potential predator into protein," he thought grimly.
After a few minutes of silent work, punctuated only by the fire and Edward's methodical actions, they gathered their few belongings. Edward, with seemingly little effort, slung the butchered carcass over his heavily armoured shoulder, a testament to his raw strength. They set off again, moving east through the ethereal glow of the Tallenwood, towards the promised safety of Sharwood.
William limped beside Julia, leaning heavily on his branch, setting his jaw against the persistent throb. He consciously focused on putting one foot in front of the other, refusing to complain or slow them down more than absolutely necessary. He was alive. He was with competent allies who, for reasons he couldn't yet fathom, had saved his life and seemed willing to keep him around.
A thousand questions buzzed in his mind like unprocessed data packets. The magic, Julia's missiles, Edward's lightning sword, how did it work? What were its limits? Its source? The Dark Legion, Neverus, the nightmare vision of the resistance, how much danger were they truly in? How could he possibly help? Could he ever get back? Prioritization subroutine engaged. Current primary objective: Reach designated safe zone (Sharwood). Current secondary objective: Maintain operational capacity (manage injury, conserve energy). Tertiary objective: Information gathering. Decision: Delay Tertiary Objective Q&A execution until Primary and Secondary objectives are stable.
"Should probably jot all this down later," he thought with a ghost of a smirk. "Personal Log, Day 1: Unscheduled interdimensional transit. Encountered hostile goblin, multiple hostile wolves. Sustained injury. Witnessed applied magic. Successfully executed low-probability dagger throw. Survived. Overall status: Suboptimal, but operational. It's practically a miracle I'm still processing data." He glanced at Julia and Edward walking beside him, their faces grim but alert, constantly scanning the strange, beautiful, deadly forest. He was an anomaly here, caught in a conflict he didn't understand, but for the first time since reality had fractured, he wasn't entirely alone. And for now, traversing this impossible dataset, that had to be enough.