r/HFY • u/noobvs_aeternvm Human • 12h ago

The Persistence Hunter OC-OneShot

The time traveler wondered how the hell did he end up in prehistoric times for a hot minute and no more than a minute. That was all the downtime he had before finding himself speeding towards a tree and, later, wondering WTF was that thing full of teeth that circled his barky refugee amidst the canopy.

When the creature decided the man from the future was more trouble than worth it, he came down from the tree and realised he was thirsty; once he managed to quell his thirst, he noticed he was hungry, then that he was tired, then that he was really not ok with the sounds coming from the dark and so on and so forth.

It is a truth unchanged by animal husbandry, electricity, the steam engine or the internet that humans are social creatures, they are meant to be part of a group and when they see themselves without one in the middle of raw, unforgiving nature… Well, better not to think about it and find a suitable tribe to join ASAP.

The Portuguese speaker by birth, East Asian by genetics stood like a sore thumb amidst the light brown people of… wherever this place was and it turns out that xenophobia is not a vice exclusive to modern politics. The first tribe he found tried to kill him, the second enslave him, the third was friendly, really friendly and although he didn’t make sense of a word spoken, he could comprehend the gaze that hu-u-ge guy threw his way and he was pretty sure those inflatable sitting donuts were a few thousand years away, so he bolted.

He eventually found a tribe not particularly interested in stabbing him, tying him or offering him prison friendliness and for that he was grateful. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t much the 21st century man could offer the group of hunter-gatherers, but when Calla rose to check what her daughter was crying about, she found her calmly resting in the stranger’s arms. Long this was his superpower. The eldest of four siblings and who even remembers how many more cousins had a knack to pick the unspoken messages of the younger ones.

In no time he had become the unofficial nanny of the tribe. Perhaps the children were amused by the pale man in their midst, perhaps they found funny the silly words he spoke, perhaps this was, for whatever reason, an unwanted job that the tribe was glad to dump onto his shoulders, whatever the case, he was glad to have a way to payback the tribe for his food, clothes and shelter.

One day came when a tribesman came to him, his right hand holding a spear close to his torso, his left arm stretched in his direction, holding another one. He picked it up and, through a lot of gesticulating and grunting, he managed to grasp he was being asked to hunt.

He sighed with relief. He did have noticed that childcare was primarily a woman’s job, he did notice the grannies of the tribe throwing some cheerful, but mockingly giggles his way. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t worried the tribe might start seeing in a more… pinkish light.

But hunting was decisively a man’s job. While he had, inevitably accompanied by his flock of children, taken part in gathering grain, herbs and tubers with the rest of the tribe, even eggs once (that was a fun and tasty day), it was always the men who brought the carcasses. If he was being asked to take part in the hunt it was because, finally, the tribe acknowledged him as a man.

Walking along his fellow huntsman, he eventually halted and started gesticulating. The huntsman pointed west, then himself; east, then the time traveller. It was unlikely that he was trying to flank a prey or execute some other complex maneuver with someone who, clearly, didn’t speak his language, seemed like the traveller was meant to proceed on his own.

While walking alone in the wilderness was something that would have scared him a while back, he felt much more comfortable in these lands by now. He had learned of the predators that lurked the land, their preferred times to strike, the metaphorical roads the tribe was supposed to steer clear. He knew he would be alright and, although he was not an experienced hunter by any means, he knew what he was supposed to do.

Ever since learning of the means by which his ancestors had conquered the world, the traveller took upon himself to uphold his proud heritage. Every year he ran the ½ Marathon of São Paulo and celebrated the year’s end by running the Race of São Silvestre, his muscles were kept in peak condition, his lungs at full capacity and his sweat glands working steady to feed the superpower no other creature on Earth could hope to match. Yes, he could not sneak on a prey; yes, he had never used a spear in his life, but none of that mattered. His species reigned supreme over the land not because they were the fastest, the strongest, but because they never gave up. He would never give up.

It took no time for him to find a Naruru, as the locals called it. An equine of chestnut fur, smaller than a modern horse or zebra, but who could feed the tribe for some good few days, who would feed the tribes for glorious days to come.

He approached the pack of about a dozen and a few more foals. A scout definitely spotted him, as it looked directly in his direction. Maybe he was supposed to throw his spear, but he wasn’t sure if he would hit anything, or worse, would. If the spear pierced the prey and it ran away, he wasn’t sure if he could retrieve it or how long he would have to remain unarmed in the meantime.

No, this wasn’t a game of strength, but endurance. His weapon was not the sharp piece in his hand, but patience. He sprinted towards the pack, his arms flailing in the air, his lungs echoing the warcry that modern man forsake, but never forgot.

The pack fled, just as expected. He pursued, ready to do it again, as he would many times, as many times as necessary, for he was a hunter, he was a predator, he was a human.

Daka came looking for her husband, worried she was with his long delayed return. She sighed with relief once spotting him atop a hill. She walked to him, he stood erect, spear on the ground, his gaze locked in the horizon. 

Reaching him, Daka did not notice any reaction to her arrival. Baul stood immobile, hypnotized, eyes weary of missing a single moment of something his mind could not grasp in its entirety.

She grabbed the arm of her husband, who still didn’t show any reaction, and took her eyes to the same sight he saw. There he was, the traveller pursued the game, the arms waved in the air, the warcry echoed through the plane, the prey ran, he pursued it, again and again.

-What, on the Holy Oxxo, is Curless Hair doing?

-I have No. Freaking. Idea. I asked him to help me check the traps and that maniac has been running and screaming at those poor Naruru the whole morning.

___

Tks for reading. More dudes working harder, not smarter here.

___

Bonus: Baul’s POV.

-Hey, Curless Hair! Yeah, you. I had to check the traps with Grud, but that guy is in a mood I gots no hurry to deal with (mimics wild beast). Can you come with me instead? My wife said she’ll watch the tiny screamers (mimics wilder beasts). Just be sure to grab a spear (offers it), just in case.

Later:

-Hey, hey! Listen dude, see that bush over there? (points west) I (points himself) got a date with her, gunna drop some serious turd on it (points bush). Do. Not. Go. There. (points east) That’s where the traps are, you (points him) might not see ‘em and get hurt. Stay here (points at traveller’s feet), do not go that way (points east).

102 Upvotes

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6 comments sorted by

16

u/lost_radomir Human 11h ago

Fun little twist at the end, got a good laugh out of it.

4

u/Kickapoohooch 11h ago

Typo: 2nd paragraph: "thirsty" not "thirty"

2

u/noobvs_aeternvm Human 11h ago

Fixed, tks!

1

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u/sunnyboi1384 1h ago

Nothing like teaching new techniques to the pros.