Thank You
Gus suddenly showed up.
He usually came very early in the morning, but today he was much later. Judging by the position of the sun, it was probably around two in the afternoon.
He stood silently at a spot a little away from the cabin—right at the border between the forest and the clearing.
This was unusual, so Juhwan was a bit surprised.
Did something happen?
He stopped what he was doing—driving stakes into the ground for the fence—and walked over to Gus.
“…You’re building a fence.”
“Yes. It’s the mountains. Wolves are dangerous. People too… strangers.”
If Gus had come earlier, when his mind was clearer, maybe it would’ve been easier. Thinking in Korean and then translating into this language still took time.
Listening was easier—you could guess meaning from words. But speaking required building everything yourself, so it felt harder.
I should’ve studied languages better back in school…
Gus looked at him for a moment, thinking.
“I’ll teach you how to make a bow.”
Normally, Gus would wait until Juhwan was ready. But today, he didn’t. He said it was fine and pulled him along immediately.
“A real one… later. For now, just the basics.”
With only an axe at his waist, Juhwan hurried after him down the mountain.
Behind Gus’s house, next to a storage shed, there were several long logs stacked up.
Maybe they were drying wood for bows—or wood that had been rejected.
Gus stood in front of one log and gestured for Juhwan to watch carefully.
He used the thin edge of his axe to draw a straight line along the surface.
Then he showed him a wedge made of bamboo.
“First, make this.”
It was shaped like a long triangular spike—round at the top, narrowing and flattening toward the bottom.
Gus placed the wedge at the center of the log and gently hammered it in.
Once it was slightly embedded, he placed another wedge along the line he had drawn and tapped it in. Then another. And another.
He didn’t split the log all at once.
Instead, he worked slowly along the line, inserting multiple wedges little by little.
Sometimes he used the axe to help.
Eventually, the log split cleanly in half.
Then he used the wedges again to peel off the bark.
“Not too much. Little by little.”
He carefully demonstrated. If the angle was too steep, it would cut too deep—he repeated that several times.
After that, he began shaping the wood into a bow.
He carved out the middle where the hand would grip and gradually formed the curve.
When the rough shape was done, he held up one finger.
“Wait. One…”
He paused, then wrote on the ground: 30
“Wait. Dry the wood.”
Then he took Juhwan into the workshop.
It was filled with bows and arrows.
On the workbench was an unfinished bow, and Gus used it to show the rest of the process.
He also demonstrated how to make arrows using bamboo.
“Watch. Remember.”
He attached feathers and fixed the arrowhead.
Since there was still time, he showed how to heat the bamboo over fire.
That explained why the arrows had a darker color.
Something felt strange.
Gus had said before that he would teach him—but that usually meant slowly, over time.
This felt rushed. Like he was trying to teach everything at once.
Juhwan looked at him carefully.
“Something bad happened? The mountain… dangerous?”
“No.”
Gus shook his head.
“On the mountain… birds. Flying. Circles. High sky. Far mountains.”
Juhwan remembered what he had seen a few days ago.
Maybe this was related.
Gus shrugged.
“There are wolves. Maybe wolves attacked people.”
It had been hard learning how to express guesses in this language. But now, Juhwan understood.
Ah… I see.
He had been attacked by wolves before. And wolves here were large—dangerous.
Thinking of the birds circling above, his chest tightened.
They must have been gathering over dead bodies.
That meant multiple people had died.
Sensing his unease, Gus smiled lightly and brushed his hands off.
“Go. I’ll teach more later.”
Juhwan bowed his head.
“Thank you.”
He ran back toward home.
The sun was starting to set, but he decided—
He would finish the fence today.
Suddenly, memories came back.
His parents’ deaths.
His grandfather dying just a year later.
His heart pounded.
What if wolves attack…?
He imagined Lizzy and Dorothy covered in blood.
“No… please…”
Even his father’s crushed face from the car accident flashed in his mind.
He ran faster.
When he finally reached home, breathing heavily—
He saw Dorothy walking toward the rabbit pen.
She turned at the sound of his footsteps and smiled brightly.
“Dad!”
She ran toward him, holding a basket.
Juhwan picked her up along with it and closed his eyes.
It’s okay. Nothing happened.
She’s smiling. Everyone is safe.
“Dad, Dad, look! Rabbit…!”
Dorothy held out the basket.
Inside were two rabbits.
One real.
One a doll—probably made by Lizzy.
“Dorothy’s doll! Dad, give names! Rabbit and doll!”
She pushed the basket toward him eagerly.
Juhwan hugged her tightly.
“…Wait… let me breathe first.”
He had run so hard he felt like he might collapse.
After Juhwan left, Gus returned to his workshop.
When he told the village chief about the goblins, the chief immediately sent his son to a nearby village.
There was a guild branch there.
Small—but enough.
They would quickly send adventurers.
They should arrive in a few days.
But the goblins were moving faster than expected.
The birds Juhwan saw… were probably feeding on human corpses.
Gus had already seen a small group of people hiding in the mountains.
Five or six people.
Poorly dressed. Weak.
Among them—a man and a woman.
That woman must have caught their attention.
When goblins lost control… things escalated quickly.
Only the strongest among them had access to women.
The weaker ones—
Once they tasted it, they lost all restraint.
Beyond the mountain, there were no villages.
Just empty land.
This village was the closest target.
Gus remembered Juhwan’s grateful face.
And shook his head hard.
Sacrifice is necessary.
It can’t be helped.
Even if Juhwan lost everything—
If he lived, he could start again.
He was strong enough.
Gus began checking his bow and arrows.
At the end of my life… the greatest hunt awaits.
That night felt especially cold.
The wind howled through the trees like ghosts crying.
Lizzy wrapped herself in a coat and stepped outside.
Juhwan was still working.
He was building the fence without rest—sharpening bamboo stakes like spears and driving them into the ground again and again.
Even after returning from Gus, he hadn’t stopped.
Wolves were dangerous—but they didn’t usually attack homes.
Animals avoided fire.
And this cabin was at the edge of the mountain.
From the animals’ perspective, it was outside their territory.
It had been used by hunters for years.
It wasn’t that dangerous.
Even when she told him that—
He just smiled.
And kept working.
The fence was nearly finished.
Only the entrance remained.
Lizzy carried a bowl of stew, holding it close to keep it warm.
Her breath turned white in the cold air.
“Juhwan.”
He turned.
He was bare-chested, sweating heavily despite the cold.
For a moment, she wondered if cold water would’ve been better.
But when he saw the stew, he smiled brightly.
“Stew! Thank you, Lizzy. Tasty. I’m hungry.”
When he smiled, his sharp eyes softened.
He looked almost like a child.
…Like Dorothy.
It was strange.
“Thank you, Lizzy. It’s cold. Go inside.”
“I’ll stay until you finish eating… I want to be with you.”
She didn’t want to go inside.
Today felt… lacking.
They hadn’t talked much.
Hadn’t even looked at each other properly.
She felt a little sad.
Juhwan told her a few more times to go in because it was cold.
But she shook her head.
He finally smiled helplessly.
He never forced her.
She leaned gently against his arm.
Juhwan sniffed himself, worried about sweat.
She laughed.
He looked slightly embarrassed.
Cute.
“Lizzy, come here.”
He placed a log near the fire and sat her down.
Standing behind her to block the wind, he ate the stew.
Lizzy turned slightly and looked up at him.
He blew on the stew and quickly finished it.
Their eyes met.
He smiled again.
After finishing, he lowered the bowl and said softly—
“It’s delicious, Lizzy. Thank you.”
Lizzy smiled and took the bowl.
“No… thank you, Juhwan.”
Their hands touched briefly in the cold air.
Why did something so simple feel so warm?
She looked up at him again.
And said—
“Thank you.”
For no reason.
Just…
It felt like something she wanted to say tonight.