The Mating Run by Leeka

Regret

Two days.

That’s how long I’m walking through this endless forest.

The trees tower over me, their leaves blocking out the sun. It’s growing hot, and sweat beads on my forehead, trickling down my face. My clothes stick to my skin like a second layer, uncomfortable and damp.

I join the Mating Run, thinking it’s an adventure, and I will get a mate.

But now, all I want is for everything to go back to normal, for me to go home. The regret sits heavy in my chest, a constant companion as I navigate through the tangled maze of trees.

The forest seems to stretch on forever, the path ahead twisting and turning like a never–ending puzzle. Each step I take is heavy with exhaustion, my legs ache as if they carry the weight of the world.

The sun beats down relentlessly, making the air thick and suffocating.

As I trudge forward, a pungent smell assaults my senses.

Crinkling my nose, the stench of death hangs in the air, and my stomach churns in response. I come across corpses, lifeless forms scattered across the forest floor. It’s a grim sight, and I can’t help but wonder what led them to this fate. The ground beneath me feels different, as if it’s soaked with the stories of those who didn’t

make it.

I try to avoid looking at the lifeless bodies, but their presence lingers in my mind. It’s a stark reminder of the dangers that lurk in this wilderness, a place I foolishly thought would be a simple challenge. Now, with every step, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m walking on a path marked by the shadows of those who came

before me.

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The smell changes as I continue, and the air becomes heavy with another scent the lingering aftermath of sex.

I wonder.if it’s something that both Hider and Hunter agree on. I wish it is.

My mind makes me remember all those other Hunters that tried to hurt me.

I shudder.

I pass by secluded clearings, the aftermath of frenzied moments etched in the trampled grass. It’s a silent witness to the wild impulses of the Mating Run, a reality I didn’t fully grasp when I signed up for this journey. The regret grows, gnawing at me with each step.

I wish I didn’t take for granted the simplicity of my life before, the comfort of routine and familiarity.

My water supply dwindles, and my throat feels parched. I long for a cool drink, for the taste of something familiar. The regret gnaws at me, a persistent ache that refuses to subside. Sure, I sign up for the mating run, but it’s to find a mate.

I didn’t sign up for this the fatigue, the stench, the remnants of others‘ passion lingering in the air.

The hours blur into one another, and I find myself stumbling over roots and rocks. Each step is a struggle, and I yearn for the comfort of my bed, the safety of home.

And as the sun begins its descent, casting long shadows that stretch like fingers across the forest floor. The temperature drops slightly, but the air remains thick with the weight of my surroundings. I wonder how Ettie’s doing, if she’s out there looking for me. Every time I glance at the map, her number remains where her hut was. She hasn’t left it in two days.

trees. As I step into the open space, the

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and I tense, my senses on high alert. I wonder if

make me theirs. But it’s just a small rabbit, scurrying away with

to rest, but the

a spot beneath a large tree, its branches offering some semblance of shelter. I lay down, the uneven ground pressing against my weary body. The forest settles into an eerie quiet, broken only by the nocturnal sounds that surround me. Sleep doesn’t come easily, each rustle and hoot in the darkness sends shivers

escape the realization that this journey has changed me. The regret, like a heavy burden,

this:

I’m no closer to

mouth. I close my eyes, hoping that when I wake, the forest will have released its grip on me, and I’ll

stabbing through the trees. I try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washes over me, forcing me back down. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck, and the forest around me blurs in and out of

bottle, but when I pull it out, it’s empty. The realization

stream or some sign of water nearby, but all I see

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survival. Dehydration sets in, a relentless companion that tightens its grip with each passing.

moment.

dizzying blur. I stumble forward, clutching at branches for support; The world tilts, and

in my stomach intensifies, a painful reminder of my empty water bottle. The

again, hoping to find a hidden stash of water. But all I get is emptiness. My stomach protests, a sharp pang that reverberates through my entire body. I clutch my abdomen, willing the hunger and thirst to subside.

my skin. I’m trapped in a relentless cycle of exhaustion and thirst. A sob escapes my throat,

cry for a moment, the tears streaming down my cheeks. The forest watches in silence, the trees standing tall as silent witnesses to my moment of weakness. I stifle my sobs, covering my mouth with my hand. I can’t afford to be found like this, vulnerable and broken. The other

is unforgiving, and I can’t afford to let my guard down. I wipe away the tears, smearing dirt on my cheeks. The ache in my stomach intensifies, a gnawing hunger that demands attention. I glance around, searching for any sign of water or food.

vice around my throat. I try to focus on the path ahead, but the forest seems to close in around me. The trees become a maze, and

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forward, my legs weak and unsteady.

distance, a ribbon of hope cutting through the dense foliage. My pace quickens, fueled by the desperate need for water. The stream is a lifeline, a source of relief in this

it’s nothing more

mere memory of

within me. The forest mocks me, offering a glimpse of salvation

dry riverbed, as if the

stomach rumbles again, a hollow sound that

I whisper to myself. “I should

beats down with unrelenting intensity, and I feel my strength waning. I’m trapped in

this.

hits me.