The sounds of the forest's endemic animals echoed back and forth, accompanying the man's footsteps. It was like an opera performance, with a troop of chimpanzees competing in song. The twilight deepening into crimson and violet made this dense forest seem even more exotic.
The stars held a feast in the sky, mingling intimately with the moon as it began to rise from behind the mountains. It was as though nature knew there was a lonely man who needed company. Truly, the Creator was so fair. Even over his loneliness, He had layered the wonder of nature, provided freely by Him.
Darkness descended, and Lazim and his dog chose to rest beneath a large tree. Its trunk was hollowed wide at the base by nature's own design. It seemed like the perfect shelter for them.
Lazim had only just managed to light a fire. At least if their stomachs were empty tonight, the warmth of the campfire could still warm their bodies.
Yesterday, God had given Lazim and his dog absolutely nothing to eat. No squirrels, deer, or monitor lizards appeared around them. Not even a drop of blood from their prey had touched Lazim's arrows that day.
"Subi, aren't you hungry? If your stomach's growling, try a little of my meat," Lazim said to his dog. He laughed at his own words.
He understood that Subi was hungrier than he was, but the animal did not show it. It wasn't that he couldn't hunt for himself. As a dog, he was simply too loyal to his master.
Woof, woof, woof!
Subi immediately rose from his sitting position and licked Lazim's face. Science might say that dogs had no reason or understanding, but this creature understood suffering better than anyone. When everyone else turned their backs on his master, he drew close instead, sharing the warmth of his body. In this selfish world, the greatest compassion came from an animal that had never demanded anything in return.
Lazim was touched by Subi's reaction, and he smiled. "So you understand what I mean, Subi. Come on, my dear. Tonight, we'll both endure our hunger together."
The dog's brown eyes gazed intently at him, holding a quiet sympathy. While the outside world showered his master with judgment, the furry creature drew closer and laid his head on his master's knee. He understood the hunger raging in his human's chest—a sincere understanding that even the other people out there had failed to offer.
Subi gave a soft whine. The sound made Lazim love him even more.
The night air felt as cold as ice when it was forced into his struggling lungs. The tree roots suddenly thrust up from the ground, as if they wanted to keep Lazim company. In the distance, the roar of a hybrid—a fusion of a wolf and something far more cursed—thundered through the forest, shaking the thick foliage and shortening the distance to death.
When drowsiness began to overwhelm him and Lazim's eyes could no longer resist, he finally fell into a deep sleep. Only Subi remained awake. The animal rested his head on his two crossed forelegs.
When all was silent and there were no more crowing cries or concerts of orangutan songs, Subi seemed to hear footsteps approaching.
Sure enough, someone could be seen approaching the place where they were resting.
The person spotted Subi, and the dog stared back with a low growl. Then the stranger folded his legs and sat cross-legged beside the burning fire.
Subi did not bark right away. It seemed he knew the person would not attack. Besides, he did not want to wake his master from his deep sleep.
Was this person really just stopping by to seek some warmth? Then why was he carrying a samurai sword slung over his right shoulder?