Bear and Tiger (2): What Life Needs Most
Of course, what living beings need most is... food, right?
Progeny? Sure, it's necessary to continue the species, but without it, you don't drop dead on the spot. Securing territory? That's great for stable living, but hardly essential. Plenty of creatures thrive without settling in one place.
But food... that's directly tied to survival. Even if everything else goes to hell, as long as you can eat, life goes on.
So.
"First up, the initial contest..."
"The first contest? Does that mean... there's a second one too?"
Goma's shy question. Hmm. Better start there.
"We'll have three contests total, and the first to win two takes the prize. Ending it on one feels like the loser might not accept it gracefully."
Goma and Hwan both nodded in agreement.
"Alright, then. Back to the food gathering."
"Food gathering?"
My words drew a unified echo from Goma, Hwan, and the chiefs they'd brought along.
"That's right. Food gathering. With your skills, it shouldn't be too hard. Ah, if you can't handle it, just say so. We can switch it up."
Of course, I'd have to brainstorm alternatives, which might take some thought. Still haven't nailed down the third one, even now.
"I-I can do it! Food gathering's my specialty!"
"I can hunt too."
Neither willing to yield, they glared at each other and stepped forward.
The tribe chiefs eyed their daughters with a mix of thoughts, but...
"I won't lose to this dumb bear...!"
"I don't wanna lose to someone more beast than person!"
With them so fired up, the chiefs couldn't interfere.
"Let's keep the rules simple, then. Let's see..."
I glanced around, conjured a clean cloth, and spread it out on either side of the rock I was sitting on.
"Using this rock as the baseline—Goma's haul on the left cloth, Hwan's on the right. Bring your food straight here and pile it up... oh, and no help from anyone else. Do it with your own strength. And..."
I pulled a pocket watch from my bosom and checked the time.
"It's around 6 p.m. now, so until the same time tomorrow—one full day. We'll weigh it all, and whoever gathers more wins. But mix in anything inedible, and it's a foul."
"6 p.m.?"
Ah, right. They probably don't track time precisely. Most folks don't.
I formed a small fireball at my fingertip, launched it high into the sky, and burst it like fireworks. A brilliant flare lit the dimming dusk.
Even from afar, they'd spot this easily.
"When this firework goes off, come straight back. Anything you bring after counts for nothing—keep that in mind."
No last-second greed-fests. Time limits are time limits.
Goma timidly raised her hand.
"Anything edible is okay?"
"Mm. No poisons or anything that causes problems if eaten. Simple enough?"
Kept it straightforward.
"Any means necessary to get the food?"
"Sure. Hunting, foraging, fishing... but no raiding."
Raiding might lead to attacks or looting others' stashes.
"Alright... begin!"
At my shout, Goma and Hwan bolted off to claim as much as they could.
Now, then...
"You two chiefs. Let's talk."
I smiled at them.
Hwan, the tiger beastkin, maximized her prowess, hauling in deer with snapped necks and wild boars with crushed skulls. Big, heavy game—she'd snagged several.
Piling them at her spot, she glanced at Goma's.
"Mostly fish, huh..."
"Slapping swimming fish out of the water barehanded? Impressive, like a salmon-hunting grizzly."
She'd nabbed plenty of small game too.
But.
"At this rate, I'm winning."
"Yeah. Looks that way."
Fish might outnumber, but deer and boar outweigh them.
Goma was losing—for now.
"No slacking, though."
Hwan headed out for more, undaunted. A lead like that might tempt complacency, but not her.
Eh, I'll just watch till it's decided.
And so, the food-gathering showdown...
"That's it! Anything not here doesn't count!"
A massive firework lit the twilight sky, joy and despair splitting between them.
Goma steadily piled fish, small animals, and edible plants. Hwan focused on big game, repeating hunts and returns.
"Kuh... t-too late...!"
"That was close. Whew."
Victory hung on the final moments. Just before the flare, Goma dumped a mountain of grass at her spot. Hwan, lugging a massive cow, hit the deadline mid-stride.
Had that cow made it, Hwan would've clinched it. As is... too close to call.
Time to weigh.
I bundled each cloth into a sack and forged a long steel rod. Hung an unbreakable chain from its center, balanced the ends precisely.
Suspended the sacks and...
"A razor-thin margin. Goma wins."
The rod tipped ever so slightly toward her.
"I did it! I won!"
"Grr... that cow took too long... if I'd caught it faster..."
It was huge—would've sealed Hwan's win. But rules are rules. Done deal.
Then.
"Hold on. There's an issue with Goma's haul."
The Tiger Tribe Chief raised his hand.
"Some of those plants aren't edible. Poisonous ones."
"Poison?"
I untied Goma's sack to check.
"Ah, you're right. Ferns mixed in."
Ferns... yeah, they have harmful compounds.
"Ah... w-well, ferns do have poison, but our tribe preps them safely to eat."
"The rules excluded poisons or problem foods. You should've minded that."
I removed the ferns, retied, and reweighed.
"Now it's a hair's breadth—Hwan wins."
The ferns flipped it.
"I won...!"
"Grr... I lost...!"
Elation and defeat intertwined.
"Next: eating contest. Gotta eat big to act big, right?"
Eating a lot proves you have a lot—gauges wealth too.
"Perfect, you've got heaps from before. We'll cook 'em up and gorge."
"Eating contest... I won't lose...!"
"Eating's my specialty!"
"Oh, and we'll share leftovers with everyone."
A grand feast, basically.
"With others? Our hauls are decent, but might not fill everyone."
"If short, I'll cover it. No worries."
"C-can I help?"
Asterios spoke up quietly from behind, but I waved him off.
"I'm good solo. Don't fret."
Plenty to go around.
The eating contest kicked off...
"N-no more... I can't..."
"I won...!"
Like a bear fattening for hibernation.
Goma, ballooned plump overnight, took the win.
How? One day to this? Even hibernating bears don't bulk that fast! Beastkin physiology... wild.
"Made extra, but no harm done."
"The tribe ate their fill—better than good."
Heaps of meat, fish, dishes. Leftovers devoured—no waste.
"One win each. Down to the final contest."
No choice.
Pondered endlessly, but nothing else fit. A tad unfair, maybe.
"Last one: endurance."
Enough mugwort and garlic? Nah, garlic hasn't spread here yet. No matter—I can make it.
