He got back home when it was getting dark, returning with a deer slung over his shoulders. I’ve always wondered how he hunts—he never comes home empty-handed. He doesn’t use a gun like normal hunters. Instead, he relies on ancient weapons like bows and arrows, spears, and daggers. He must be a master at it, I thought to myself, watching him with the little strength I had left.I hadn’t eaten all day. I was still sitting at the table where he had left me, contemplating my life, trying to analyze the food and detect the poison. After hours of staring at the plates, my head aching from the effort, I gave up. There was no way for me to figure it out. I wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of slowly dying in this forest, proving his point that I was weak.I weighed my options. On one hand, if I ate, at least I’d have food in my stomach. But at what cost? There was no doctor around. If I chose wrong, I’d be dead. I couldn’t risk it. I’d rather starve than take that chance.He dropped t
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