Breathe {F01 - - - SP}

[Ronnel 0]

Breathe in. 

 

A torso swelled as lungs obeyed the instinctive, automatic command. The air breathed in was thick, pungent with the smell of loam and greenery. Fingers clenched around hard wood and teeth ground against each other as hesitant, stumbling feet followed a faint trail broken through the brush. 

 

The sound of birds chirping in the distance echoed through the trees, reaching ears that hadn't heard such a sound in weeks, months. So different from the sound of the city the man had been in for so long - the birds sounded free, no concerns or worries plaguing them. They didn't care if they lived or died, content to just exist. 

 

Ronnel didn't know what had prompted him to finally leave those who were huddled in fear of death. No large, world-shattering moment had inspired him, banished the fear that had paralyzed him. Even now, he was shaking as he stalked along the trail, trying to find what had caused it. 

 

But he could point to birdsong as something that had helped. Bright and cheery, cutting through the pall that had been choking him - he wanted to be like that again. Free, living and doing. 

 

Breathe out. 

 

[Ronnel 0]

Breathe. 

 

A flash, just a moment of motion ahead. Ronnel had been torn when he was looking at what kind of armor to wear - in the end he'd just gone with what had come when he logged in first, a set of light leather armor that was barely thicker than the shirt that clung to clammy skin beneath it. 

 

But as he pressed himself near-silently up against a tree, out of line of sight of whatever was ahead, the brown-haired man was glad he hadn't gone for something heavy like plate or scale. Leather made a muffled thump against wood - metal would have clattered, alerted whatever was there to his presence. 

 

His chest was rising and falling rapidly as he tried to calm himself down. People had told him that he should party up with someone, go into battle with a teammate at his side. It would help him get started, learn where he was safe. He'd heard all of them, and knew that they had good arguments. 

 

But he could not. Talking with people was easy, a smile, a wave, a disingenuation to distract when someone probed a little too deep. Talk was easy - but trusting someone else with his life? A stranger at his side, he was supposed to rely on them in battle? No. No, he couldn't. Not now, not yet. So here he was, out in the forest, alone. 

 

Sure, he was on the lowest floors, where creatures were supposed to be just barely stronger than the players who were facing them. But even that carried the risk of defeat, and with it - death. 

 

I have to breathe!

[Ronnel 0]

Breathe out. 

 

But - Ronnel was done hiding because of his fear. He grit his teeth, hard enough that his jaw began to hurt. So what if he could die? There wasn't anyone waiting on him to come home from this accursed death game. He had nothing left - nothing to lose now. 

 

If he couldn't bring himself to fight one of the monsters on the low levels, he might as well run back to the City of Beginning and stay there as a leech on the success of everyone else. And he didn't know how much longer he could live with himself like that. 

 

This wasn't just a hunt. This was his chance to prove to himself that he actually could do something with his life now. His fingers tightened on the haft of the wood. He would do this. He had to do this. There was no turning back any more. 

 

With that thought ringing in his mind Ronnel stepped out from behind the tree. Dark eyes scanned the forest around him, revealing nothing. Whatever movement he had seen before, the source had not come any closer to him while he was psyching himself up. 

 

Breathe in. Move.