It’s been a couple days since the ‘evolution’ and the ominous message.

  A few things he noticed were that standing became infinitely easier, his arm digits got more dexterous and even, he also became a little bit taller, now around 150 cm.

  Another was that now he could sense that prickling sensation that the flower brought to him from a single direction.

  The reunion with his sounder was stressful; there was, after all, a possibility he wouldn't be recognized, but the lingering body scent seemed to do the trick.

  Now that dying over and over again was no longer up for grabs, he needed a new game plan, he mused.

  The most important thing right now, he thought, was to increase his and his group’s strength. After all, more than half of his previous deaths consisted of being hunted down by a stronger predator.

  Currently the only way he discovered to increase his strength is to eat that magical flower, but that took hundreds of cycles to find. How could he boost the strength of his entire group?

  Or would the flower even work on his brethren in the first place? He could just be a special case.

  There was that weird prickling sensation in the north too…

  Being out of options, he decided to steer his group northwards. That might not be the best decision, but it’s the best he’s got right now.

  As they were making steady progress in their journey, the lesser boarling scavenged for materials.

  Now with a better and more flexible body, he could put many more of his ideas into reality. Like making a pointy rock out of a rock that fractures easily.

  Then using another pointy rock to saw through a long stick’s top, making an indent, inserting the previous pointy rock, and binding both together with a rope made out of plant fibers.

  He decided to call this creation a spear! A tool made to compensate for his short stature and the lack of natural weapons such as claws and fangs.

  It came into use just a couple of days later when they got ambushed by a giant lynx.

  It was dusk, and the sun was setting, painting the sky in pink and orange hues. The group was already looking for a place to relax and spend the night.

  Unfortunately the group's size of nine made it impossible to not get noticed, and it was only a matter of course till they got attacked.

  The last in the pack got ambushed the moment he snapped a fragile branch, his front leg buckling.

  The lynx pounced over and sank its teeth inside the boar’s neck.

  *Crack*

  The life left the boar's eyes as an echo of his breaking neck echoed, the lynx’s strength unmatched.

  Squeals of fear passed through the cluster of boars.

  The lynx, not satisfied with one kill, turned its eyes towards the rest. The dead boar’s body still hanging from its mouth, warm blood dripping down its muzzle.

  *drip*

  *drip*

  A lesser boarling slowly walked out of the group to face the beast, spear in hand. A tense moment of silence passed between the hunter and ‘prey’.

  ***

  The lynx eyed the strange bipedal boar who held a weird stick in its claws. He seemed ready to fight, which already is not the usual reaction it got from its prey. And unusual meant danger.

  Now, as an ambush predator, the hunt could be considered a success, and she could and probably should retreat, but the last few hunts went poorly, and she still needed to feed the young.

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  She would be a fool to pass on easy prey..

  ***

  The boarling could see the moment decisiveness flashed through the beast's eyes. Its tensing muscles preparing for a lunge.

  As if in slow motion, he could see it flying through the air, aiming for his windpipe.

  Stepping to the side, he braced his spear to skewer the airborne body. To his astonishment the lynx twisted midair, resulting in his spear only leaving a side gash.

  Eyes widening, but being quick on his feet, he slightly lowered his head and just at the right moment thrust his head with the tusks forward. Piercing through the lynx’s lower jaw.

  In exchange the lynx bit into his skull, missing the vital spot.

  Both tangled, they flipped over from the momentum and tumbled to the ground.

  *GRRROOAR!*

  One of the boar’s flight or fight responses triggered and he chose to fight. Charging with everything he got, he smashed his tusk into the lynx.

  *crack*

  Breaking its front leg and a few ribs.

  After the first, another two join.

  The lynx barely dodged the first just to get hit by the second.

  At that point it already knew it was over. It could barely move, and just breathing was difficult. The colours of the world mixing together.

  The boar that charged first slowly approached and then stomped its leg on its head.

  *CRACK*

  Like a melon, it burst and dyed the undergrowth crimson, fragments of bone surrounding the dead challenger.

  Such is the way of nature. Just a single wrong decision deciding life and death. For one to live, another must die.

  Nonetheless, the boar slowly lifted its bloody hoof and came back to our boarling.

  It let out a small grunt and licked the boarling's scarred and bloody face, as if to say it’s already over.

  The moment it did so and swallowed back the blood mixed with saliva, it swayed, stumbled, and fell over.

  ***

  The boarling lifted his head to look at the fallen-over boar. He could see the squirming body and its slow reshaping to a more humanoid form. ‘He’s evolving? He’s evolving!’ He thinks in joy.

  The fear of a real death finally got washed away as he realised that everything was fine.

  They won.

  They actually won against a predator.

  They could finally fight back. “Hahaha, hehehe” he couldn’t contain himself.

  Finally they had the power to defy their set path.

  And they will only grow stronger from here on out. Stronger and stronger until they will be the ones that decide others' fate!

  A brother lost now will lead to them never losing one again! An even deeper determination flashed through his deep eyes.

  If before he was a boar wandering in an endless maze covered in darkness, now there was a distant flickering light. Still unstable, but guiding him towards something.

  Unable to contain it he smirked, even ignoring the pain, he stood up and roared with all his might, spear raised high.

  Six more roars replied in kind, as if knowing this was only the first victory of many to come.

  ***

  A couple of hours have passed since the battle.

  They didn’t move because they didn’t want to disturb the second boarling’s evolution.

  Besides, the dead lynx’s body served as a food source for all of them, so retreating was unwise.

  ***

  At this time it was already quite deep into the night, and everyone except the original boarling was in deep slumber, exhausted from today's events.

  At that point the second boarling’s evolution finally finished, and he woke up.

  He locked eyes with the first boarling and stood up with a slight stumble. With a hoarse voice he muttered, “So this.. i-is how it feels..”

  “Congratulations, brother, but first, you should have ‘a name’, a word that only belongs to you. Something that makes you, you. And the ‘ascension’ seems to be a perfect time to do so. So, what will it be?”

  His last few words echoed in the night air, before a moment of silence descended.

  “I.. hmm.. I d-don’t know..” He stumbled with his words. His tongue yet not used to the complex method of communication.

  “I’ve assumed so. What do you think about Raskar then?” The first boarling suggested.

  He had plenty of time to think this over and even fantasized about having others like him, and the name sure seemed like it fit the newly evolved stalwart boarling.

  “Raskar.. I will b-be Raskar then.” Raskar replied and looked with a question in his eyes to the other boarling.

  “Torin”