It had been three days since his encounter with the large creature he had fed to a swarm, and he was beginning to feel the strain of hunger with every step. Luckily, he hadn't encountered any more deadly monsters or flesh-ripping insects or anything like that, a fact that made him more than a little paranoid. Unluckily, though, he also hadn't found anything edible. Not even the lush grass which cushioned every footstep could be eaten. The last time, he had thrown up for hours, and had to seek refuge in a cave with the corpse of a dead...something...as company. He had managed to find a small, rare flower that oddly tasted like rhubarb, and it sated him long enough to stumble upon the hulking beast that chased him, but after so much physical strain, and three days of walking, he was well beyond hunger.
The object in the distance that had drawn his attention the few days prior had not grown in size, despite the several miles it felt he had covered. Whatever it was, it was either extremely far away and huge, or extremely small and just over the next hill. He hoped, desperately, for the latter. The last thing he needed was to have his hopes crushed once more by his almost single-minded quest for answers in this abnormal world. His first attempt at social interaction nearly killed him, as the seemingly peaceful, fuzzy creatures he had approached turned on him with flashing teeth and a focused hive mind. He had grown increasingly wary with every encounter with each strange, unearthly race that seemed interested in nothing more than his destruction.
The distant object disappeared from his view for a moment as he slid weakly down the side of a hill, collapsing in the valley at the foot, grunting weakly as he landed on his face in the grass. It seemed like ages before his breath returned, his vision flashing with light, then dimming slightly. His head swam, and had he had something in his belly, he would have retched. Of course...if he had eaten, he wouldn't have been so weak that he would have fallen. This world, it seemed, flourished in irony. Maybe he would find some over the next hill and finally get something to eat.
He laughed weakly at his joke, and struggled to his feet, knees shaking as he stood, his hand on the opposite side of the hill to steady himself. Once he was more or less upright, he looked up the slope before him and sighed. It could never be easy, could it? Still unsteady, he started up the incline, the soft soil giving him ample footing, his hands grasping at the abnormally well-kept grass as he progressed. That was something that suddenly caught his attention. Despite this land being the only thing he could remember, he realized he still had something to compare it to, somehow. Everything seemed wrong, but he didn't know why. The grass was wild. Shouldn't it be tall, flowing like wheat in the wind?
That stopped him. Wheat. What did he know about wheat? Why did he call the creatures here monsters? Why did he know trees, and flowers, and colors, and shapes? How was it that he knew all these things..and not his own name? Why did he need a name? How did he come to be here in the first place? Why? How? When? Where? Who? He began to yell. Nothing intelligable, just...yell, as loud as he could, shaking his head hard. This was not the time to stop moving and start thinking. He needed food, and shelter, and warmth, and protection. What he did not need was more questions. With a great heave, he rose to his feet, and stumbled forward again, making his way as quickly as possible to the top of the hill.
Every step burned, and screamed, and pained, and swirled, and flashed. His mind and body was awash in sensation as the lack of nutrition continued to drain him of his faculties. With a final cry, he crested the mound...and was struck breathless. There, before him, for what seemed like endless acres was...wheat. Wheat. Endless stalks of the plant, from one side to the next, and into the distance. And there, in the distance, was the strange object he had been working towards for so long. It stood far taller than before, as if that last hill had moved him miles forward. It still had no definate shape, but it was solid, and immobile, and tall...like a tower. A tower...a structure...a shelter. With a struggled cry of happiness, he took a few toddling steps forward, arms reaching out towards the object.
His vision swam once again, and dimmed darker than before, and he was suddenly on the ground, face first in the grass. Tears welled up in his eyes as once again, his death seemed mere inches away, his life forfeit to this world that hated him so much. He would have no part of it though. The great beast three days ago did not have him, and hunger certainly would not. Slowly, he crawled forward on elbows and knees into the forest of wheat before him, the stalks giving way to him in welcome, hiding his small form from view entirely. Grasping a stem, he moved it further and further down to him, hand over hand, until the ripe, unharvested berries dangled only an inch from his mouth, and then were enveloped by it.
He ate ravenously of first one, then another, then another, then another, until he was sure he would burst. Only then did he stop, his breath ragged and catching, a weak laugh on his lips, as he felt his aching stomach slowly subside to the much more pleasant ache of fullness. He could sleep now, now that there was no more threat of dying, now that he knew he would most likely wake up again. With that thought, he slipped into unconsciousness, the last rays of the sun disappering over the horizon in a desperate flash of radiance before the smothering darkness took its rightful place.