One month.
A month had passed since Larry and his companion — whom I named Lana, because it sounded good with Larry and because I liked to think she was a sophisticated she-wolf — joined my endless walk to nowhere.
A month of forced cohabitation with two prehistoric predators that, according to all laws of nature, should have devoured me in the first week.
And yet, here we were.
"Larry, stop sniffing my hair," I said as the wolf stuck his enormous snout into my silver mane. "I washed it yesterday in the river. Well, three days ago. Well, a week ago! But it's clean! Relatively."
Larry snorted, covering my head with drool, and walked away with the offended dignity of someone who'd just been unjustly rejected.
Lana, the she-wolf, watched the scene from a rock with an expression that could only be described as "men are such idiots." It was incredible how much personality an animal could convey with just a look.
"Don't look at me like that, Lana," I said while wiping the drool from my hair with leaves. "You're an idiot too. Yesterday you ate a whole rabbit and then tried to bury the bones in my clothes."
Lana yawned. Showed all her teeth. I think she smiled.
---
During that month, we'd wandered through endless plains, dense forests, and rolling hills. We hunted together, slept together — well, they slept, I "rested" — and somehow, we'd developed a pack dynamic.
I was the leader, apparently. Which was ridiculous, considering they could kill me effortlessly. But immortality has that advantage: when you can't die, other predators eventually decide it's easier to be your friends than your enemies.
Or maybe they were just waiting for me to let my guard down. With Larry, you never knew.
---
It was during a particularly intense hunt that I made an important discovery about my immortality.
We were chasing a giant deer — yes, one of those pickup truck-sized ones — when everything went wrong. The deer, in an act of desperation, turned and charged me with its antlers.
The goring pierced through my stomach.
It hurts. It hurts a lot. The pain is indescribable. But what surprised me wasn't the pain, but what happened next.
As the deer fled and Larry and Lana chased it — traitors — I stayed there, with a hole in my stomach, watching the flesh regenerate. But this time it was different. The regeneration was faster. Much faster.
"What...?" I murmured, touching my already healed stomach.
And then I understood.
It wasn't the first time I'd been gored by antlers. I'd been gored before, by smaller deer, by wild boars, even by a particularly aggressive mountain goat. Each time, the regeneration had been a little faster. But I'd never noticed it until now.
"System," I said aloud. "Search: is my immortality adaptive?"
The answer appeared on the blue screen:
"The granted immortality possesses adaptive properties. After repeated exposure to the same type of damage, the body develops progressive resistance. With sufficient exposures, total immunity to that specific type of damage is possible."
I stared at the screen, processing the information.
"So... if I get bitten enough times, eventually I'll be immune to bites? If I burn myself enough times, I'll be immune to fire?"
The screen flashed: "Affirmative."
"THIS CHANGES EVERYTHING!" I shouted, making Larry and Lana, who were returning from their failed hunt, stop dead in their tracks. "Do you realize? I can become immune to anything! I just need to be killed by that thing many times!"
Larry looked at me with his usual "this human is crazy" expression.
"You don't understand, Larry," I said, approaching him. "Test me! Bite me! I need you to bite me many times so I can be immune to your bites!"
Larry backed away. For the first time in a month, the wolf who had spent a week trying to kill me backed away scared.
"Come on!" I insisted. "Just a little bit! One small bite!"
Lana stepped between Larry and me, growling. She was protecting me from myself.
"Okay, okay," I sighed. "But when I find a volcano, I'm jumping in. Just to see what happens."
Lana looked at me as if to say "don't worry about that, you'll do it anyway."
---
The month continued with more discoveries and more hunts. I learned that my adaptability worked even without being consciously injured. For example, after slipping and falling down a rocky slope a dozen times — Yes, I'm clumsy, got a problem? — I noticed my skin becoming slightly more resistant to scrapes.
"Incredible," I murmured one night, while petting Lana. "I can literally evolve like I'm a Pokémon. I just need to get hit by things."
Lana purred. Wolves don't purr, but she did. It was weird and adorable.
Larry, jealous, approached and stuck his head under my other hand, demanding pets.
"You're a giant, dangerous wolf," I said while scratching behind his ears. "You should be scary."
Larry wagged his tail.
"And yet, here you are, asking for cuddles like a lapdog."
Larry growled softly, but didn't move.
---
Despite my advances in understanding immortality and the strange family dynamic we'd formed, my main goal remained the same: find a dragon.
And on that front, the news wasn't good.
Zero dragons.
Not a single one.
I'd seen strange creatures: birds the size of small planes, reptiles with bright crests, mammals with saber-like fangs. But dragons, actual dragons, nothing.
"System," I asked one afternoon, frustrated. "Where are the dragons?"
The answer was disappointing:
"Dragons, in this era, are extremely scarce and tend to inhabit hard-to-reach regions. There is no precise data on their current location."
"Great," I muttered. "Go find them yourself, then."
Larry and Lana looked at me sympathetically. Or hungrily. With them, it was always hard to tell.
---
That night, after another fruitless day of searching, I sat on top of a hill and simply... looked.
The view was stunning.
The moon, enormous and bluish, hung in the sky like a silver beacon. The stars stretched in countless millions, forming rivers of light that no modern astronomer had catalogued. The wind blew softly, bringing smells of grass, wildflowers, and in the distance, the fresh scent of a pine forest.
I'd lit a small campfire — very carefully, the lesson from the fire was still fresh — and over the flames roasted rabbits and fish we'd hunted during the day. The smell was delicious.
Beside me, Larry and Lana devoured a huge piece of meat I'd set aside for them. I didn't know what animal it was from — it had been too big and furry to identify — but they didn't care.
"Look at that," I said, pointing at the sky. "See that bright star? In my world, they called it Sirius. Well, in my time they called it that. Thousands of years from now, people will look at it and wonder what's out there."
Larry lifted his head, snout stained with blood, and looked where I was pointing. Then he looked at me. His expression clearly said: "can you eat it?"
"No, Larry, you can't eat it."
Larry returned to his piece of meat, disappointed.
"I've been with you for a month," I continued, talking more to myself than to them. "A month since you decided to follow me. Well, you decided to follow me to kill me, Larry, and then you brought your girlfriend. But now... now we're a pack, aren't we?"
Lana approached and rested her head on my leg. Larry, always competing for attention, did the same on the other side.
"You're a couple of burdens," I smiled, petting them both. "But... it's okay. It's not bad to have company. Even if that company could devour me at any moment."
The wind blew stronger, moving my silver hair. The blue moon illuminated the landscape with an almost unreal light.
"Seven thousand years," I sighed. "Seven thousand years before anything I recognize happens. And here I am, on a hill, with two prehistoric wolves, wondering if I'll ever find a dragon to teach me magic."
Larry growled softly.
"Yeah, I know. I'm probably crazy. But what else can I do? Giving up isn't an option. Immortality doesn't let you give up."
I took a bite of roasted rabbit. It was perfect.
"Tomorrow we'll keep searching," I said with determination. "Somewhere in this world there has to be a dragon. And when I find it, I'm going to convince it to teach me. By good means or by bad."
Lana lifted her head, curious.
"Well, maybe not by bad means. Dragons are big. Very big. I'd rather not be crushed, even if I can regenerate."
Larry snorted. He was definitely laughing at me.
"Shut up and eat your meat."
---
The next morning dawned clear and bright. The sun rose over the horizon, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. The blue moon was still visible, pale, reluctant to disappear.
I gathered my meager belongings — the spear, some leftover meat wrapped in leaves, my tiger-hide clothes — and set off. Larry and Lana followed, flanking me like the bodyguards I never asked for but now had.
"Today's a good day to find a dragon," I said optimistically. "I know it. I feel it in my bones."
Larry looked at me. His expression said "your bones are stupid."
"Don't ruin my optimism, Larry."
We walked for hours, entering a forest that seemed straight out of a fairy tale. The trees were tall, with thick trunks and leaves of such intense green they almost seemed to glow. The ground was covered in soft moss and wildflowers of impossible colors.
"I need a bath," I announced. "Smell me, Larry. What do I smell like?"
Larry obediently approached and sniffed. Then he quickly backed away, sneezing.
"Am I that bad?"
Lana approached, sniffed, and also backed away. But at least she didn't sneeze.
"Alright. Let's find a lake. A lake free of giant monsters, if possible."
---
We found a lake half an hour later.
It was perfect. Crystal clear water, surrounded by weeping willows and aquatic flowers. Small fish swam near the shore. Colorful butterflies fluttered among the bushes.
"This is..." I began.
And then I saw her.
A human figure.
No, not human. Humanoid. With human appearance. But definitely not human.
She was on the opposite shore of the lake, with her back to me, apparently contemplating the water. Her hair was white, long to her waist, falling in soft waves. Her skin was white, almost porcelain, and seemed to glow softly in the sunlight.
But what really caught my attention were her wings.
Golden wings unfolded on her back, some folded, others extended, as if they were a natural part of her being. They were large, majestic wings, each feather shining with its own radiance.
"It can't be," I whispered.
As if she'd heard me, the figure turned around.
She was a woman. Young, perhaps my apparent age, about fifteen years old. Her face was beautiful, with delicate and perfect features. But her eyes... her eyes were red. Red like rubies, like blood, like fire. They stared at me fixedly, with an intensity that paralyzed me.
I must have been just as ridiculous a sight: a silver-haired teenager, dressed in tiger hides, flanked by two giant wolves, mouth open and eyes wide.
She looked at me.
I looked at her.
Larry and Lana, beside me, tensed. A deep growl began forming in Larry's throat.
"Easy," I whispered, without looking away from her. "Easy, Larry."
The woman — the angel, because that's clearly what she was — didn't move. She just watched me with those red eyes, evaluating me, analyzing me.
Time seemed to stop.
The wind blew, moving her white hair and my silver locks. The golden wings fluttered softly. In the lake, the water continued its course, undisturbed.
And then, at the most inopportune moment possible, Larry sneezed.
The sound broke the silence like thunder.
The woman blinked.
I blinked.
Lana looked at Larry with an expression that clearly said "seriously, now?"
And I, without thinking, without filtering, without any kind of self-preservation instinct, said:
"H-Hello."