Sure footing is important on any journey

Edgar realized this as he was currently flying through the air, a rock he had stepped on during his journey up the mountain having cracked under the pressure, sliding off to the side. This resulted in half the path he was walking going with the falling rock.

As he fell through the air, quickly approaching a forest near the base of his path and surrounded by debris, he had but one moment to think, the enlarging needles and branches that promised to tap into his head-jelly but one second away from meeting their flying visitor;

“Oh, shit.”

His first tactical move to approach his situation was to very carefully smash directly through the left side of a tree’s branches, most falling to the floor not long after. This slowed his descent, at the cost of his left arm now being bent in three separate, non-arm-bending ways. 

His second move, his first having succeeded wildly, was to bounce off one of the rocks that beat him to the ground. It was not a very soft bounce as he had hoped; rather, it was the kind of bounce that could only be accomplished by something going terribly wrong with one of the objects present in said bounce. His lower back had hit an edge of the rock, a sickening pop following the hit. He could almost hear the separated bone pieces in his hips jitter and jamble around as he spun around in a nigh-vomit inducing death spiral.

His second plan having not gone as well, Edgar hoped his third would be much more successful. His planning process was cut off as he finally hit the ground, his body’s momentum taking him through a large amount of underbrush, a good percentage of said underbrush being a collection of thistle-bushes that did not seem too much of a hurry to get out of the spinning-and-sliding Edgar’s way. 

He emerged from the underbrush, sliding to a stop with his eyes closed. His body radiated with pain, and a few other feelings thrown in for good measure, making a giant, mushy puddle that best represented how he felt and looked from the outside; broken arm, covered in scratches upon scratches, and feeling not unlike what a fortune cookie looks like after the person who opened it did not like what their fortune told. However, as the pain pulled back for a moment, reading another pulse, Edgar felt a warmth in front of him, and his eyes registered a warm, orange object. He opened them

The campfire in front of him was well stocked and glowing healthily. The woman to the right of it, sitting on a tree stump, was currently looking at him, her mouth half opened to take a bite of a peanut-butter-and-jelly sandwich, with jelly currently leaking out of the back half of it’s tilted up form. For a moment, the two looked at each other.

Then, being the first one to regain composure, the woman put down her sandwich, reaching to her side. From there, she retrieved a jar of what looked to be some sort of brand peanut butter. She held it out to him, screwing the lid off and letting it fall to the ground.

“Peanut butter?”

Edgar looked at her, then back down to her offer. With his nonbroken arm, he tentatively reached out, his whole form shaking as he did so. From there, he took a small scoop with his fingers, and ate.

Well, it didn’t make up for everything, but he felt pretty damn good after that.