The Runaway: A Stardew Valley Story

Survival Skills

By Sunday, I have 10G to my name and zero food to eat. My options were pretty much: attempt to fish, dig through the trash, or learn to forage. I opted for the latter as I'm not quite desperate enough for the other two yet. Lacing up my shoes, I told myself it couldn't be that hard as I double-knotted my sneakers and headed south. Now staring at the endless trees and green things, I realize that nothing just screams edible. I mean, people can't just eat bark, right?

Without a path to follow, I set off into the woods encircling a large pond or maybe a lake. I reduced my pack to absolutely nothing to try and lighten the load, but I find myself wishing for something to drink. The water of the lake-pond glints with sunlight and blinds me every other step. Sweat drips from my chin as the warm air clings to me. I scour the ground and bushes for something to forage, a nut or some fruit, but come up short. It all looks the same. There's grass, trees, and rocks followed by more rocks, trees, and grass.

When I find a maze of rugged bridges, the sun beams down from the highest point in the sky. the mystery woman from Friday comes into view. She kneels in the dirt of a small clearing pulling up slender green grass. The air smells of onion each time a bundle breaks free of the earth. My stomach growls at the hint of food, even if it is something so unappealing.

A battle wages within. On the one hand: this woman obviously knows more about gathering wild food than I do. At the very least, I could ask her to tell me about the onion weeds. Even if that's all I gather, maybe it would be enough to feed myself until I can grow something substantial? On the other hand: something about her just feels wrong to me, and they always say trust your gut.

Inwardly, I groan at my own stubborn pride. I don't even know her name, I remind myself. I cannot afford to make a snap judgment about someone without first knowing their name.

Oh, I'm really going to hate this.

"Hello," and I call loudly praying she can't hear the strain in it. "Hey, I saw you in the saloon the other day. I didn't catch your name. I'm Junox." Maybe a wave will make me seem friendlier.

The woman straightens with her knees still buried in the dirt. She eyes me wearily, and I realize she probably came out here to be alone. Good, we can make this fast.

"Leah," is her response, short and clipped.

I move a step closer hoping to seem curious in a not-creepy sort of way. "What are those? They smell like onion."

Leah nods once. "Uh, that's because they are. They're wild spring onions."

"Are you foraging them?"

Leah glances over to a perfectly curated basket of greens and spring onions. "Yes, I like to make my own salads from what nature provides."

"Wow, that's super cool." I smile. "I came out here today hoping to do a bit of foraging myself but... I know next to nothing, apparently."

Leah begins lifting herself from the ground, dusting her knees as she rises. "There is a lot to learn; even I'm not brave enough for mushrooms yet. I'm finished here, though, so you're welcome to take what you need."

Leah's smile is hesitant as she awkwardly waves farewell. It makes a pit in my stomach form over my rash judgments. I'm the one intruding on her onions and her... Elliot? What if they're not even a thing?

"Yabba, Junox," I whisper to myself when she has her back turned to me. "Why does it even matter if they're a thing or not?!"

I begin to pull my own slender tufts of grass fighting myself to not watch the woman walk away. Even from a distance, I can tell that her hips sway with elegance and grace. This only makes the frustration more tangible when I pull up a row of weeds that lack the distinct onion smell, but I force myself to keep digging. Thoughts of panic swarm around me. How will I pay for food or my medical bills? What was the point of coming all the way out to Stardew Valley if I can't even support myself? Will a life like this really be better for the baby in the long run?

Weed after weed I pull. My vision turns cloudy with frustrated tears, but I must keep going. There must be something that I am missing, I tell myself as I struggle with another plant much smoother than most others. Leah is long gone before I finally tug the grass free. The smell of onion fills the air again, and it hits my stomach like a suckerpunch.

After stuffing the wild onion into my bag, I train my eyes and hands to find more of the smooth green sprigs. I find a second onion on the second try. The third and fourth seem to find themselves, and by the fifth, I let the tension in my shoulders relax.

My hands turn deep brown from digging through the mud. It cakes my wrists and hides underneath my fingernails. I tell myself that I don't even mind.

The sun sinks down the west side of the world as I sling my pack onto my shoulders and start to retrace my steps from earlier. The wood all looks the same, but I do my best to follow the circle of the lake until I see the cows I passed on my way in this morning. My mouth is completely dry from lack of water, and that's a sign that I'm probably completely dehydrated. Every muscle in my body feels raw and tight. I don't think I could take another step if it wasn't for the promise of a hot shower and a long night in bed. Hunger pains wrack my abdomen, and the last time my stomach was this empty, Mother had me on a diet that took me from a size six to a four in one week.

But I am going to survive. We both will make it through this.

I stayed up until 2:00am this week writing a chapter that you guys won't read for a very long time. *Cries*