My hands worked slowly as the pain in the one wouldn't relent, but that wouldn't stop me from my craft. Carefully, I weaved vines and branches between one another, constantly checking the strength between them. I then stopped a moment to hop over to the nearby creek, soaking the vines in water so that they would remain bendable a little longer. Then I left to grab more vines and twigs. Then back to weaving, and then back to the creek. By the time I was done, I had made a rather crude looking woven scarf or something, it was small for a blanket, but just right to be wrapped around my ankle and lower leg. I did so following the very tedious task of trying to position my swollen, broken ankle correcrly, and trying to wrap the thing around, grabbing both sides, all with only one fully functioning arm. The pain was immense, but easy to handle, and after adding in a few new sticks to it, my leg from the bare foot to the torn up pants was completely covered in damp vines. The coolness of which actually seemed to help a lot.

     I hadn't learned too much about how to take care of wounds in the past, but I had watched the humans enough to at least know how to take care of a sprained ankle, but only a little bit. I was still curious about all the steps I might have missed.

Splash-op!

     My head spun quickly to the large dog pouncing in the water to my side. His nose nearly in the blue as he watched intently for any fish. I figured I may as well join him a little, scooting over to the edge of the creek to finally clean off my wounds. Once I reached the creek, I plopped my bound ankle right in, it feeling instant relief from the burning feeling it had as it was surrounded by nice cool water. I decided to let it stay as I cleaned off the mud and blood off my other leg. Next were my arms; I wasn't able to raise my right arm too well, so I could only rub off my left fore-arm a little bit. Those bandages over my back had irritated them beyond belief, and it felt like sandpaper to take off, when I finally did get to my back. It was strange, looking down at my newly cleaned arms, still seeing little cuts and scars from my recent injuries. Those were usually all gone by the next day. Well.. at least my back had mostly stopped bleeding.

Shloop!

     The dog startled me again with another splash in the water, again turning up unsuccessful. Internally I groaned at myself, for I should never be so jumpy.

Rwoof!

    My head cranked upward from the pebbles I sat on, eyes meeting with those of the large dog as he looked directly at me. He seemed like he wanted to say something, but of course wasn't able to.

     "What is it, mutt?!" I asked, prompting him to tilt his head a little, as if I should understand him better than even a human. I tilted my head in response. That seemed to help him understand me, and the dog began looking back down at the water, then back up to me. I too followed his eyes, still not sure what he wanted. Maybe he didn't want anything at all. How could I know?!

Rrroof!

     He repeated, again looking between me and the water. It took a moment, but then I thought about what he had been after: the fish. Perhaps, that meant he wanted me to grab him a fish?

     "Ohh, mutt, I.." Then it dawned upon me. I wouldn't need to physically stand up and pounce at fish like what the dog was doing. Just like I created my cast, I could also create a net that would help out much more!

     Idea in mind, I stood from my comfy spot to grab more vines and small twigs. I walked around with the soft grass brushing between my toes, feeling both weird and welcomed, as I searched for the materials I needed. The vines here weren't the ones you would find in the jungle. Those were much stronger, much thicker. There were some thick vines in the forest so full of yellow and green light, but they were so course I couldn't use them for anything regarding my brace; but as the main ropes along the exterior of my net, they would work just nicely. The other vines here were a green, thin, barkless things -- more like stems. They would work better as the actual net bit. And, since the net would be both bigger and not need to be so tightly knit, I could make it a lot quicker, and have the thing finished by mid day.

     Net finished, there I stood, trying to figure out how best to use it. I decided that letting it drop to the floor and pulling it up would be a good approach. So good thing this creek was not surrounded by even sort of tall cliffs, because then I had trees I could tie the opposite corners to, so only one person would have to lift the net up by one side. I did so painstakingly, since those coarse vines in no way liked being tied to one another. Once that part was done, and two of the four corners were the to the other side by vine, I hobbled back over to my side, my ankle both liking the cool water, and the, though a bit annoying, very supporting brace around it. Dropping back down onto the smooth stones of the other side, I sprawled the net out over the water, and then letting it drop, watching as several fish scurried from underneath it. To help heel it from floating I tossed a few large flat rocks on top of the net. Then, I waited, hoping the fish were as dumb as I had been lead to believe.

     The dog a little further up stream seemed to be satisfied with my working, at least until he saw me just sitting there again. Looking back up at me with a soaking wet face, a noise escaped his mouth that almost sounded like a growl. In return I pointed my face down at the water, then back at him, then once again at the net in the water, trying to replicate how he had tried speaking to me before. The dog didn't exactly seem to understand right then, but gave me a little slack as he continued on with his "hunting."

     Meanwhile, I waited patiently, watching the dark shapes of fish as they swam around in the rippling creak. As annoying as patience was, I also knew that my best past attacks had all been a success when I waited, allowing the target, or targets, a moment to feel secure first. I did the exact same thing with those fish, watching intently as slowly one by one swam over the net. I waited until there was a good number of them above it all at once. Then, I striked! My one good arm assisted by my other pulled up on the large vines quickly, one big splash followed by many smaller ones as the trapped fish flopped around. The dog jumped in a panic, at first having no idea what was going on. I rejoiced inside, a smile even creeping onto my face a tiny bit. But then I realized where my plan would surely fail. I had come up with no way to collect the fish. Wait, why was I collecting fish again? As my mind raced for a way to catch them before they eventually bounced off, the dog jumped in to assist. He leapt forth for the net, grabbing a large fish tightly in his jaws. Then, he carried it past me to be placed further away in the grass. For a moment I wondered if he was going to come back, when he did, leaving the suffocating fish alone in the green. He came back for the next fish, then the next, and then the next, until finally he had grabbed all five, and I dropped the net, making sure to bury the vines I had been holding under a pile of large pebbles before leaving.

     Leaving the cool water, I went to see what the dog was doing with the fish. My guess: eating them. To my surprise, when I caught sight of him as I rounded a tree, he was looking up at me, panting happily, licking his lips occasionally. I wasn't sure what he wanted now. He had his fish. Then I saw him look down at the pile of fish, but instead of looking back at me, he looked out to the thicker part of the forest, which's floor was covered in dead leaves and sticks. He kept looking back and forth u til I put the two together in my head in the most logical way possible. Okay, so, he is hungry, so he still wants the fish, and he keeps looking at the denser part of the forest. That part has more leaves, and sticks. Does he want the sticks? What would he want with a stick?.. Fire? Does he really want to cook his fish? Hm, maybe he just think it tastes better that way?

     Being the one with nothing to do but lay around feeling useless, and potentially end up thinking again, or continue doing things the dog suggested, I chose to go grab a load of sticks. The process, was, of course, not fun, having to limp through a place potentially hiding traps under the leaves or massive holes hidden by branches. I still made it back unharmed, and went back for a few more loads of wood afterwards, feeling a little more confident as time went on. Soon we had a ton of sticks in one big pile, and a small amount of sticks in another, where I would be actually lighting the fire.

     "Hey, mutt. You ready to see something unbelievable?" I asked the dog, rubbing my hands together, not too hard though when my shoulder reminded me again of it's pain with another internal scream. I mostly ignored this pain, though, for it was time to put on a show. The dog didn't watch me specifically, but looked about the forest as it began growing darker again, already. "Well, prepare to be terrified." I chuckled darkly, mostly to myself, as I began heating up my good arm, waiting for it to catch ablaze... Come on.... Any second now..... Just a little longer? Ugh! I give up! Finally tossing down my fist, I began looking for other ways I could possibly start a fire. Fire required heat, oxygen, and a source of material to burn, and usually my powers managed to produce all three, using pure rage as the fuel. It, however, looked like I would need to find a new way to produce the heat... Oh! Pff! Simple! My hand is still capable of producing enough heat to start start a fire! Duh! Collecting the heat throughout my body again, this time I sent it specifically into my pointer finger so that I could preserve more energy that way, and touched it to the little pile of burning sticks. Unfortunately with my body so weak, and all my heat being focused in one place, the rest of me began shivering a little. Sure enough, though, the wood at my finger tip caught on fire, and slowly the little sparks grew into a gentle flame. I added in stick after another, increasing their size, until finally I had myself a roaring fire. The dog lay peacefully by, not phased by this usually scary element what-so-ever.

     I then hung the fish over the fire by their tails, dangling by a crude little stand I had made out of some larger branches. Sitting back, I allowed myself to relax, feeling satisfied of the day... Wait... satisfied..? My face began to contort as I questioned myself. The only way I had been able to feel satisfaction in the past, was by creating chaos in the lives of others. How could something such as satisfaction play a role in something so simple, I could feel satisfied by..living this way...all the time? Suddenly, I blinked myself out of an idea that made it feel as if I was falling almost, waking back up into a world where the fish were cooked, and ready to be eaten.

     The dog panted with anticipation as I grabbed the fish off it's vine, and tossed it down to him. He gobbled that one down immediately, so I tossed him the biggest one next, which took him a bit longer to eat, mostly since he couldn't just swallow it whole. I sat down and began watching the fire again, until I felt eyes digging into my head. I turned my head to the dog with a sickening feeling in my stomach, until I realized it was still just him, staring at me for some reason. Curiously about this little change in his attitude, I grabbed the remaining three fish and tossed them to the dog. Instead of gobble them up like before, he pushed the largest of the three towards me, and then waited there, watching me again. I wasn't entirely sure what he wanted, so I watched where his head would go. His face looked down at the fish, then over to me, then back down at the fish, and again at me. So, I carefully grasped the scale covered animal, wondering exactly what he wanted me to do with it. I tilted my head, looking up from the fish, and the dog licked his lips. I tilted my head with question, and he proceeded to lay down on his elbows again to eat one of his own fish.

     Wait. Was I supposed to do that too? Was I really supposed to, eat, something? The idea.. It seemed so foreign. In fact, I couldn't remember a single time I had eaten anything in the past. I had never needed to eat before. I wondered if eating might help me heal faster, as it seems to do with humans. But, I also remembered how much they had turned eating into an obsession, creating buildings just for eating at. If I ate, would I get addicted? Was it dangerous to start eating?.. Would I become more like them if I did?

     Curious more than anything, I watched how the dog was eating his food. He seemed to dig into it, as expected, I guess. But humans usually decorate their food with stuff first. They try to make it look nothing like the animal or plant they are eating, maybe because they feel bad for it? Maybe that does mean that all humans know they are addicted to eating, and are ashamed? I don't know. Reading too much into it might be a bad idea. I'll just stick with how the dog eats his food.

     Slowly, I lifted the fish to my face, preferring not to take a bight of the head or tail first. It smelled bad, even worse than it did alive in a way. And it also smelled like smoke too. I guess that part makes more sense though. I very carefully placed my teeth on the scales, not liking the taste when my tongue touched it. Not how I would imagine food to taste. Maybe I wasn't supposed to eat the scales? I dunno, the dog was doing fine. Pushing past the hard part, I dug my teeth into the meat of the fish, suddenly overwhelmed when a new taste entered my mouth. I almost dropped the fish on the grass, trying to decipher what my sense of taste was telling me. Usually when it was picking up on stuff, it was a really strong smell, but this time the smell was only secondary, leaving my tongue alone to figure out what in the Nether was going on! What was in my mouth felt a bit too large to swallow, so I had to repeatedly bight down on the food already in my mouth; something the dog didn't have to do as much of. The scales were especially hard to chew. Maybe I wasn't supposed to eat them. And even if I was, I preferred not to. As I still chewed, I looked down at the fish, and with my right arm began scraping the scales off the surface. As I did that I also decided I didn't want to try the head, or the tail. So I ripped those two things off the main part of the body. Once the food in my mouth was all chewed, I felt a little insecure swallowing it, not sure how easy it was foe me to choke. I swallowed, and no gagging followed. I simply took another bight, this time enjoying it a little more with the scales gone. By the time I had only finished my second bight, the dog had finished two entire fish. Show off.

     The strangest thing, however, was when the food entered my stomach. I cringed upon feeling what I wasn't sure was pain or not. I didn't even know how to describe it in my head; like some tiny battle was going on in my core, one clearly winning against the other, sending back up strange gurgles as if demanding a more challenging opponent. I didn't understand what it meant, but I didn't hesitate to take another bight, for after that feeling had settled, there was this strange, almost calming feeling that followed.  Ate and ate, until that fish was nothing but bone and guts. Finally my inner warrior had had a satisfying battle, and the wave of calm I felt rush over me was like none other. It was almost as good.. maybe, even better... than the shows of power I had grow to be so famous for. It brought a sense of security, I couldn't quite understand. My head turned to the dog, who lay on his side with his back to the fire. I really had a lot to thank him for- wait, what was I saying?!.. Wait, why can't I thank him? Is there something about that?- Of course there is! Just- just because yes!.. Oh... Okay then.

     ...And then, the calm mixed with fear, as the feeling of security became overwhelming, and my neck struggled to hold my head up. No... N- not again.. It was inevitable, so, what could I do to at least help myself not have those nightmares? Instinctively my head turned to the dog, who lay soundly, and had been there all those other times so far. Surely he wouldn't mind if I just.. Quickly but also calmly, with droopy eyelids, I crawled back over to the dog, and curled up in a tight ball next to him, one hand reaching out for and grabbing the fur of his side. And.. following that, it was as if I had been knocked out by poison, the fear I would never wake again, ever present.

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WHEWW! Not even gunna edit! Just thought I would write a little since I couldn't go to sleep and WHEWIE, it's suddenly 6AM! The sun's already starting to shine through my window! Better get some sleep while I still can!

Aaaaaand, stay epic! 👉😎👉 

Year later edit: forget what I said before about Steve's age stuff. Steve is Heronrine's slightly younger brother. They are twins. (Sorry for spoils.)