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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Regret

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.

of the trees. As I step into the open

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fallen log, staring into the night sky, lost in the solitude of

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on high alert. I wonder if it’s Ettie who’s come

just a small rabbit, scurrying away with a

someplace to rest, but the fear

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

I lay there, staring up at the canopy above, I can’t escape the realization that this journey has changed me. The regret, like a heavy burden, weighs me down.

this:

days of walking, and I’m no closer to

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

wake up, the throbbing in my head relentless. The sun beats down on me, its harsh rays stabbing through the trees. I try to sit up, but a wave of dizziness washes over me, forcing me

but when I pull it out, it’s empty. The realization hits me like a punch to the gut. No water. My stomach rumbles in protest, a low growl that echoes

but all I see are the towering trees and the relentless sun. The sudden weather change has

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this once–challenging adventure into a desperate struggle for survival. Dehydration sets

moment.

stand, my legs shaky beneath me. The forest seems to spin, the trees becoming a dizzying blur. I stumble forward, clutching at branches for support; The world tilts, and I feel the heat pressing down on me

reminder of my empty water bottle. The sun, once a distant companion, now

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,

exhaustion and thirst. A sob escapes my throat, a desperate release of

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 Hunters are out there, and showing weakness is a

afford to let my guard down. I wipe away the tears, smearing dirt on my cheeks. The ache in my stomach intensifies, a gnawing

Dehydration tightens its grip, a vice around my throat. I try to focus on the path ahead,

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legs

spot a small stream in the 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 unforgiving landscape.

I approach, I realize it’s nothing more

up, a mere memory of the water it

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

the touch alone can conjure water.

sound

I whisper to myself.

and I feel my strength waning. I’m trapped in a cycle of thirst and exhaustion, each step

this.

hits