Reincarnated as an Elf’s Best Friend

                I went through hellish training every other day, and if it wasn’t for that kind elf healing me after every session, I would probably have died. Gradually, I got used to the physical exertions, up to the point that I no longer needed healing magic. However, I still went and begged for it for two reasons. One is that it was magic and I wanted to see if I could learn it. The second is that even without any injuries or fatigue, it still made me nice and warm and energized, so there was no harm at all.

                I was excited when the elf started teaching me the language, although the enthusiasm quickly died when I realized that the words were only basic commands that one would teach their pet. It’s quite clear that that’s exactly how she sees me though, which is odd as I clearly am sapient enough to play games with her and kick her ass.

                Still, I got to learn a few words, but after not teaching me any new ones and making me do embarrassing stuff, I stopped bothering to follow them. Like really, play dead? Although I must admit it was entertaining to see the elf do an example of it, but that doesn’t mean I wanted to do it. There was a bit of guilt when looking at her dejected face, and the fact that she did heal me when I needed it, so occasionally, I complied, but I limited it to the first one.

                A year went by, and Beda has approved of my efforts enough that I no longer needed special training. Instead I got to meet once a week with the other kids and do a group lesson on hunting. My decision to abandon the daily baby gatherings in the past came to haunt me here, since I recognized no one, and they looked at me as if I were an alien from outer space. I heard lots of whispers of “Who is she” and “I don’t know” fly around. Apparently, all the children are supposed to grow up together at those gatherings, so it was unprecedented for a stranger to just show up like this.

                Because of this, they mistook me for a new immigrant child, and pestered me about where I was from. Beda was nearby and I didn’t want her to hear it since it would raise questions of why they don’t know me, so I told them that the lesson was starting and I’d answer the questions afterwards, mainly to get them to stop bothering me, and give me time to make up lies.

                “Alright, kiddos, you all know how to wield a spear and throw them, so it’s time to put it into practical use. In order for that to happen though, you have to be able to find a deer, so that’s what this lesson today will be about. And if you guys are good enough or lucky enough to find one today, we can try our first hunt. Well I don’t expect you guys to succeed on the first try, but it’s good experience. So first off, anyone want to guess how to begin?”

                “Wander around until you smell one?”

                “Try to find footprints?”

                “Camp at a watering hole until a deer shows up?” I guessed.

                “All of them do work, but a few of them have its own problems. Wandering aimlessly just makes it a game of chance. Footprints are a good answer, and is part of what I plan to teach you, but finding footprints isn’t as easy as you’d think. You might have to camp at a watering hole for a really long time for a deer to show up, and if you don’t hide properly, they’ll just simply avoid the watering hole.

                The best way is to find traces of deer and then follow the trail until you either see or smell the deer. Footprints are one, but there are other signs to watch for. Now follow me while I go show you some examples.”

                The kids around me were all excited, waving their spears around, while I’m just here thinking how surprisingly bloodthirsty these seemly innocent kids are. Don’t tell me they’ll start chanting “Kill the pig. Cut her throat. Spill her blood,” as soon as they complete their first hunt. Well it’d be deer instead of pig in this case, but still.

                Eventually, Beda came to a stop at a small clearing, where patches of weed were growing here and there.

                “So one of the deer’s favorite foods are the weeds growing here in the forest floor. The others being leaves and twigs from trees and nuts when they are in season. It’s harder to spot signs of the others being eaten, but these weeds are easy to tell. You can see the ripped-up leaves, so all that’s left is find the footprints and follow them. Well in this case, it seems the deer visited here recently, so you could just follow the smell. However, for educational purposes, I would like you to observe the footprints – Hey, where do you think you’re going!”

                Lured by the scent of prey, a few of the kids already took off after the deer. Beda told us that she’d continue the lesson afterwards and chased after the kids, with the rest of us following.

                I thought that after the grueling training, I would be better than the kids that didn’t go through it, but I was toward the back, with the enthusiastic kids running way faster than me. What is this unfairness!

                The kids in front stopped and began to be unnaturally quiet. When I caught up to them, a small family of deer were lying on the floor far away, sleeping.

                Beda motioned all of us closer, and when we did, she whispered, “These deer may be sleeping, but don’t let that fool you. Make any loud noise or get close to them, and they will spring right up. Heck, some of them even sleep with their eyes open. The usual strategy is to get within spear range and then aim for the head or heart. With all of you kiddos, surely one of you will hit it, so when I give the signal, everyone throw. Do avoid the torso if possible.”

                However, Beda told us to start throwing at a ridiculously far distance. I knew there was no chance for me to even hit it even with the spear thrower, so I didn’t. The rest of the kids tried when Beda said “Throw,” and I watched them all miss. They got a lot closer to the deer than what I would do at the distance though. Naturally, the deer all bounded away.

                The children tried to chase after it, but the deer outran them until they were no longer in sight.

                All the children were complaining to Beda about why didn’t they let them throw it closer, but Beda’s response was simply that the deer would notice if they get closer, and that adults could have easily sniped it from twice the distance. All I thought when I heard that was, I guess I’ll be vegetarian for life if I live alone.

                Beda rounded the dejected children and headed back to the deer footprints, except they were now all covered up with our own. So much for continuing the lesson afterwards. In the end, the children just wanted to practice throwing spears further and more accurately, so the rest of the time was spent doing just that, with Beda occasionally correcting their posture or giving pointers.

                I thought the children would have short attention spans and were thoroughly distracted by the deer and totally forgot about me, but after the lesson, while waiting for their parents to come, they started asking me questions. I simply told I was sickly and couldn’t show up, and I was not an immigrant. They seemed a bit disappointed, but they were convinced and left me alone. Well most of them that is. Some tried to befriend me and immediately started talking about hunting, which I tried to respond appropriately. Luckily, their parents came and picked them up soon after, for I had little interest in hunting.

                Late that night, the deer steak I had for dinner tasted better than before, even though the preparation was exactly the same. Guess knowing how hard it is to get it made it tastier.