Enmity: A state of deep-seated ill-will

My journey upon this greater world come with strange circumstance. Just the day prior, I had found one of those men with the red paint. He engaged me with bellicose and roared at me as if an erudite at combat. I did not know what to do, and as thus, ran. He gave chase until I had found a rather large and sharp stick to stab him with. He had fell to my feet, and with a rock I finished the job. The man had no belongings on him, and as thus I left his body rot. Upon making way away from his dead body, I begin to feel the hunger set in. I had never been hungry in my world, in my room, and as thus the feeling of hunger permeates my body, making a rampant climb to my neck. I go back to where I had killed the man in hopes of possibly eating some of his meat. Upon arriving, his body had disappeared, and a blood stain signified where it had been dragged to. I cursed, stamped on the blood and punched the dirt in which he lay prior. My stomach growled, and I followed the blood stained path apoplectically and in consternation. The stains had ended eventually, and I could no longer follow the path of the food in which I needed to survive. The hunger gnawed at my spirits and eventually I lay staring at the blue hanging above me. I cursed the world, the greater world.


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