Lessons in Backcountry Survival

[Aramyllis Dae]

Dusk was just beginning to fall on Thar Shaddin, muting the white luminescence of the sun and painting the sky in fiery tones of deep red and purple. Within the dense, southernmost reaches of the Virdara woods it was nearly full dark, and a mild chill had crept into the air, the gentle cooling that accompanies night in early autumn. Aramyllis was already shivering. Wrapped in a thick cloak lined with bear fur, she should have been sweating. Instead, she wanted nothing more than to collect enough wood to start a fire--finding good fuel would be easy enough here, at least--and lay down in its warmth to sleep. She was so tired, and so very cold.

But the young woman knew she needed to find food first. Although she hadn't eaten more than the occasional nut or root in days, she had ceased to feel the sharp pains of hunger, as if her stomach had given up hope of receiving sustenance. Myllis was vaguely aware that this was a bad sign. She realized, with a distant, bleary feeling of surprise, that she was likely starving.

The forest had provided ample food throughout spring and into early summer, more than anywhere else in the generally stark areas surrounding Marn and Shim. When snow had still dotted the land, Aramyllis had easily located plenty of small, hibernating mammals to fill her belly, grateful for the blessing of her exteroceptive senses. Each creature gave off a faint imprint, like light or warmth but actually neither, that tickled some secret part of Myllis' mind into awareness. It was impossible for the young mixed breed woman, raised among humans, to explain; the language of a culture that outlawed magic had no words to describe her abilities. Nonetheless, her magic served her well.

Ground squirrels had been the staple of her springtime diet, but she'd also found spiky hedgehogs, and sometimes chipmunks, though the last was harder to pick out due to its smaller size. Once she had gotten greedy, and, believing she was digging up an especially fat old ground squirrel, had instead uncovered a badger. The animal was asleep rather than hibernating, and had come awake with a coarse snarl. Intent on protecting its territory, the stubborn creature had rushed Myllis so quickly that it nearly mauled her as she stumbled backwards in shock and fear. In the end, as she had panted to regain her breath, the masculine voice in her head had laughed at her and declared her lucky for having escaped with only a few shallow scratches. Although she wouldn't admit it, Aramyllis had agreed with him.

As the days warmed and grew longer, calling up the winter sleepers from their long hibernation, Myllis had switched over to eating bird eggs. She spent her days climbing trees and scouring the branches for the occasional nest. Each precious egg that she found had been wrapped carefully in torn strips of cloth and placed in her carrying bag, to be fried on a hot rock over a fire. Sometimes, when hunger pains clutched at her middle, Aramyllis had been unable to wait to cook them and instead had simply poked a hole in the shells and sucked out their liquid insides.

When even the late eggs had hatched and the young woman had grown desperate, she resigned herself to digging up helpless suckling rabbits. It was a task she detested, but she had not been willing to go hungry just to avoid it. But now even that option was gone. The roots, tubers, and nuts--which had once supplemented her nearly daily intake of meat--had become her only source of nutrition. Her body was finding it sorely lacking, and weakened steadily.

Several days ago Aramyllis had found a lush growth of wild raspberries, perfectly ripe so that they had stained her hands and mouth crimson with their juices. She had feasted for hours, until she was full to bursting. Unfortunately, her stomach, unaccustomed to such a large amount of sweet fruit, had been unable to properly digest the rare treat, and the young woman had ended up regretting her indulgence. She guessed that she had lost more than she had taken in, and her subsequent fatigue seemed to confirm this.

Now Myllis was not sure she could make it back to the village before she collapsed from exhaustion. The possibility didn't seem nearly as terrifying as it should have. She was just so tired. Vaguely, she knew that her very resignation was a warning sign of how precarious her situation had become. The young woman could muster only enough energy to berate herself, monotonously and without force. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

[Jaspenellar]

A flurry of feathers and fur erupted in the tranquil afternoon as the avian-leonine creature's feathered wings bore him quickly away from the earth. Nearby birds startled and the local rodent population darted into the safety of their burrows as the griffin's shadow passed over them. The frightened creatures only recognized the shadow as predatory, having never seen, nor ever wanting again to see, such a large, strange looking beast. The only intelligent being to remark on the unusual animal's departure was an unconcerned half-elf who turned resolutely away from him. She held her cap tight to her head as it threatened to be swept off with the beat of his white, black-tipped wings.

"Moody bitch," Lo'en muttered to herself under her breath as she resumed her unhurried walk south, directly opposite to the flight path of the griffin. She could not figure out why the beast had been so contrary to her direction of travel and there hadn't been any way to pry it out of him. The red griffin Justinaryn' had simply clacked his heavy rending beak at her in frustration, his golden eyes angrily glaring at her. No reason was as good as any to prompt her to continue on her way through the foothills.

After nearly an hour of walking she had reached the outskirts of the forest she had seen in the distance. The autumnal season had begun to creep into the colors of the leaves and gave the scene a pleasant appearance. Lo'en paused as she eyed the trees. The last map she had managed to scrounge from a wayward peddler had been inadvertently blown into a stream (by Justin) and had long ago dissolved into useless tatters of paper. She couldn't even remember if this forest had been on it. Not particularly worried, the half-elf gave a careless shrug to herself and plunged into the woods.

***

Evening found the half-elf squatting near a small hog, an arrow protruding from its ribs, just behind its front legs. Luck had been with her in the afternoon, coming across a small family of forest pigs mindlessly snuffling the forest floor for roots and grubs in a relatively clear area. The unlucky victim never saw the hunter and was dead before it hit the ground. The remainder of the group had scattered at the death squeal, fortunately for Lo'en. She hadn't felt like expending her precious few other arrows at an overaggressive charger. Content with her kill, she pulled her skinning knife and began to hack away at the carcass.

[Aramyllis Dae]

The realization that she should have returned to Shim long ago did nothing to alleviate Aramyllis' current condition. Nonetheless, her thoughts seemed unwilling to shift towards more practical matters, like what to do now. Her mind had begun to waste away with her body, sacrificing reason in order to conserve what little energy remained.

Legs trembling, she tried to lower herself to the ground. Her muscles gave out halfway, dropping her awkwardly to a graceless heap in the dirt. The young woman moaned, but didn't right herself. She had been planning only to sit down for a bit, just long enough to formulate a plan, but now that she was down here it hardly seemed worth the effort of getting back up. She could think lying down just as well as when seated, surely.

Food, she had to find food. Myllis closed her eyes to better concentrate on the life forces scattered around her, but all that she sensed were the dull, ever present glow of flora. There was nothing rich enough to sustain her, unless she could catch one of the small rodents that scampered through the darkened branches, twittering. Her mouth watered weakly at the very idea, but she knew she stood no chance. Even when her strength and speed still remained, she had been unable to trap the quick animals, or even to hit one of them with a throwing knife. She just didn't have the proper education for living out here year round. It was a lesson Aramyllis wasn't sure she would survive.

The weary heap pried her eyes back open, fighting the inexorable force of exhaustion that threatened to pull her down into oblivion. When her vision finally focused, what she saw banished all remnants of fatigue and set her nerves on fire.

The animal's body was lithe and catlike, but substantially bigger than any feline predator Myllis had ever seen or heard of. It had to weigh as much as an adult male bear. Rather than fur, its back was plated with rows of interlocking scales. The reptilian armor spread down from the beast's spine to cover its sides, but left a visible swatch of hairless, black skin naked beneath its abdomen. Its head was that of an oversized hooded snake, swaying hypnotically on a long, flared neck. Every few seconds a forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. The beast's feline tail ended in a beaded rattle, but the appendage was whipping back and forth so quickly in agitation that it produced the constant din of hail falling on a frozen pond.

Hail falling on a frozen pond? Aramyllis tripped over the thought. Something felt wrong about it, but she couldn't identify what. She repeated the phrase to herself mentally several times in an attempt to figure out why it bothered her. Only when she finally gave up did she recall the bizarre monster not more than 25 feet away.

The creature's horrible compound eyes made it impossible to tell if it was looking at her, but the way it stood perfectly still, as if poised at attack, gave Myllis a bad feeling. She should have sensed the thing's approach from her maximum range of 200 feet, especially considering the way it shone in her mind like a bonfire. She didn't think it possessed magic, but it felt--and looked--as though it had to be born of the supernatural. The terrified young woman couldn't help but wonder if it was some mad magic wielder's conception of a dragon. If so, it seemed a terrible joke.

Aramyllis struggled to her feet on legs that were shaking even more violently than before. Slowly, ever so slowly, she drew her bone dirk. The knife appeared pitifully small in contrast to the dragon creature, and yet its weight in her frail hand felt like a blacksmith's hammer. She was dreadfully aware that, if she tried to face this monster herself, she was going to die. Taking a slow, tremulous step backwards, she called out softly for Gabi'Rel. Her voice was hoarse with disuse and terror, an almost inhuman croaking.

At the sound, the dragon beast cocked its serpent head in a decidedly feline gesture. For the briefest of moments, Myllis thought it was going to turn away and leave her alone. Instead, it opened its fanged mouth wide and answered with a prolonged hiss, the scraping noise overlaid with a deep growl. The mixed breed felt her bladder let go, warmth spreading down the legs of her pants.

Breath coming in harsh hiccups of fear, Aramyllis screamed. "Gabi'Rel!"

[Jaspenellar]

Lo'en had deftly set to work on the forest pig's carcass, using her larger, serrated knife to remove the foul innards, mindless of the gruesome task. Setting aside the ruddy, pinkish offal, she judged she'd have at least ten pounds of meat in the end, though she wasn't sure how she felt about having to set up a fire in order to dry and preserve the left overs which would easily feed her for over a week. If it had been mid-summer, endless flies, midges, and gnats would have been hanging around, but the chill nights of the closing autumn seemed to have greatly reduced their numbers, for which Lo'en was grateful. She set the larger knife aside on the ground and pulled out her small skinning knife. Within mere minutes, she had expertly separated the hairy skin from the hog and was looking satisfactorily at a cleaned, ready carcass. Mindless of her bloody fingers, she started to pull piggy away from the discarded skin and guts when the half-elf stiffened and froze in place, her senses reeling with something unnatural.

Though Lo'en lacked any supernatural perception, she had been travelling in the wilderness long enough to have gained the recognition of something amiss. The ambient evening noises had abruptly ceased- the few hardy insects that had thus far survived the autumnal nights quit their buzzing, sunset birds twittering stopped in mid-note, and even the rustling of the dying leaves of the wood's canopy, not yet carpeting the forest floor, seemed to fall silent. A scent she had attributed to the moist, earthy, metallic smell of her butchered kill became more prominent in her nostrils; it was a more putrid and leathery stench that seemed to be insinuating itself from all around her. Her grey eyes could not make out anything in front of her, and, refusing to move quite yet, the half-elf strained to hear anything besides the buzzing of the unnatural silence. Her pointed ears arched slightly, but to no avail, and just as she reached for her bow, a terrible, high-speed rat-tat-tat sounded from behind her, shattering the heavy, expectant stillness.

Leaping to her feet, twisting in a smooth motion as she raised her bow to the ready and half notched an arrow, Lo'en failed to fully draw her weapon, eyes wide at the impossibly amalgamated creature not more than 70 feet away. Its motion was somewhat feline, but the long, serpentine head, and that twitching, rattling tail... the half-elf felt her stomach drop through her toes, taking with it her appetite. Fortunately, its plated back was to her, but just as she had made up her mind to grab her dinner and try to make a break for it, a shriek ripped through the air. Gaping at the notion that the monster was stalking something sentient, the half-elf remained frozen to her spot, unwilling to leave what sounded to be a young girl to become dinner for the disgusting creature.

[Aramyllis Dae]

Silence answered her cry. The snake-cat froze for a moment as if surprised by the shrill sound, even the rattling of its tail choked off abruptly. Aramyllis wondered fleetingly if this was just some trick of Gabi'Rel's, a test of her competence in defending herself from threats. He had sent them occasionally in the past, first just auditory and visual illusions, and then solidly physical beasts that nevertheless vanished when her astral brother was satisfied. Still, something about this monster seemed incongruous with those trials. The largest creature Gabi'Rel had ever summoned was less than half the size of the snake-cat; it seemed a cruel progression to make when Myllis was starving to death. Perhaps he was trying to send her a message, about how foolish she was being, to avoid the village at the risk of killing herself.

It was the smell of the beast that decided her otherwise. The fetid stink burned in her nasal passages and throat, and nearly gagged her with its thick purulence. It reeked like the dying flesh of the terminally ill, rotting off the body while the mind still lived.

The snake-cat had apparently recovered from the shock of her scream, beaded tail once again clattering as it whipped to and fro. Myllis thought she could make out glimpses of her own reflection in its compound eyes, refracted off each facet and shattered like a broken mirror. Even in the twilight, the orbs seemed to glow. The frightened girl yelled again, a shaky snarl devoid of intelligible words, in the hopes that the sound would again repel the beast. It barely seemed to notice this time. A deluge of incoherent terror spread from the recesses of Aramyllis' mind until it had blotted out her every thought, leaving only naked panic. Intellect overwhelmed, she couldn't even move.

The sudden presence of Gabi'Rel burst into her, an outpouring of light and heat that pushed back the flood of icy darkness in which she was drowning. She cried out in relief and welcome, an agonized sob. Nerves responsive again, her hands loosened from their white-knuckled clenching. The snake-cat's muscles were bunching, head drawing back and mouth opening wide to reveal dripping fangs as it prepared to strike with a pounce. The rattling tail fell silent briefly while it gathered its balance.

For the horrified girl, there could be no clearer signs. Without even time to draw a breath, she threw herself sideways and forward just as the beast released its taunt brawn to spring. With any luck, it would unable to both change direction and shorten its jump in midair. The split second passed rapidly for Myllis, body slamming to the ground and knocking the knife from her grasp. She watched from the edge of her sight as the snake-cat soared by her in slow motion, as if the air had thickened to gel, retarding the beast's airborne inertia. A massive paw with long, hooked claws swiped at the empty space where its prey had been only the briefest of moments ago. Time regained its momentum as the creature landed. The head swiveled on its long neck to locate its prey, still only feet away.

To the distant onlooker, it would appear only that the girl was remarkably fast, or else the beast slow. It was difficult to tell. The former regained her feet quickly, but her hands were empty now. Her blade had skittered away, bouncing through the deadfall that coated the forest floor with the force of Myllis' fall.

"There's someone else there," Gabi'Rel's voice rasped at her, sounding more disturbed than she had ever heard him. She narrowed her senses to where he indicated. Sure enough, there was a life presence, likely a person, judging by its strength. Aramyllis hesitantly dragged her eyes away from the snake-cat and towards the unidentified something. In the background glow of the being's fire, she could make out a thin, humanoid shape, unmoving. It appeared to be holding something poised in its arms. A bow? The girl could only hope.

"Aim for the belly," she shouted, gaze flicking back and forth between the misshapen predator and her only potential ally.

[Jaspenellar]

The half-elf watched as her fears were confirmed- a small body dove out of harm's way as the beast lunged forward. Cursing to herself, she thumbed through her quiver without taking her eyes off the scene unfolding before her... Five arrows. Six if she were able to wrest the one that had killed the hog out of its side without damaging it. Lo'en quickly dropped that thought as she noticed the girl was backing herself against a line of trees. Soon she'd have nowhere to dodge the disgusting creature.

"Aim for the belly"

What kind of advice was that? At the side angle she was now presented, the monster would still be shielded from any underside attacks. The half-elf would have to drag its attention directly to her in order to get a clear belly shot, and even then, she doubted the stopping power of one arrow in its gut. She couldn't even begin to guess at the location of the snake-cat-dragon thing's heart, or if it had only one. A scathingly close encounter with a large bear, simply enraged after three arrows peppered its gut at near point-blank range had taught Lo'en otherwise. All of these thoughts dashed through Lo'en's mind as she brought her bow up, fully drawing the bow string to its full tension. The home-made arrow, shaft as straight as any professional fletcher's stock, was carefully aimed in on the slithering, sinuous, bobbing head.

Despite the gravity of the situation, she still mockingly rued at herself for choosing to aim at arguable the smallest, most difficult part of the beast's anatomy. The monster's head was moving in a vertical, repetitive motion and Lo'en watched for two breaths, judging its pattern, predicting its path. Her right hand drawing the bowstring remained steady as she closed one grey eye, and then the other, and finally opened them both, letting the arrow fly. The half-elf let out her breath she had been holding as she watched with high confidence and low expectation that she should be so lucky as to strike a fatal blow with one arrow. With that thought, she tensed, her hand moving to draw a second.

(Its your monster, its up to you if she hits lucky )

[Aramyllis Dae]

The arrow flew steady in a barely curving arc, piercing the air with the slightest whistle. In the quarter of a second following the twang of the bowstring, the serpent-cat began to gather its legs under it into a crouch, muscles contracting as the head drew back in preparation for another strike. The motion, along with the sidelong angle of the incoming arrow, saved the beast. The projectile soared past, inches from its hooded face, to bury deep in the earth several yards farther.

Stomach skyward, Aramyllis scrambled backwards on her hands and feet like an awkward crab, cursing. Not only had the archer missed the target, but he/she couldn't even follow simple directions. Nevertheless, the serpent-cat seemed momentarily distracted by the arrow. Its head swiveled to where the shaft protruded from the dirt, tongue flicking out experimentally, and its poised muscles loosened infinitesimally.

The creature's intended prey took the opportunity to flip over onto her hands and knees, then pushed herself onto her feet. Her legs still felt wobbly, but the rush of adrenaline surging through her veins gave her enough strength to remain upright for now; all the same, the increasing burn of acid in her calves and quads told her the effect would be short-lived. Her was mind reeling, stumbling slipshod over a string of divergent thoughts, as if unable to sort the important from the superfluous.

"The knife or the archer," a voice prompted, interrupting the chaos of her mind and banishing her confusion. The blade was several feet to her right, in the same direction as the stray arrow and the snake-cat's attention, whereas her ally-from-afar was still a good jaunt to her left. The weapon called to her, somehow, as it always did. Nonetheless, Myllis realized that the blade, shorter even than her forearm, was unlikely to be much use against the huge beast. Certainly, using it would require her to get dangerously close, within easy range of those cruelly clawed paws and darting head. For all she knew, the creature could even be venomous.

Her decision made, she took off at a sprint towards the archer. From the front, the flared hood surrounding the snake skull presented a target as large as a dinner platter; if the archer was determined to aim for the head, surely she had a better chance of landing a shot face-on than from the side, which was scarcely wider than a finger length.

Its attention drawn by the sudden flight of its prey, the serpent-cat bounded after Aramyllis. The girl managed to close the space between herself and the archer by nearly half before her unstable legs betrayed her and dumped her to the dirt in a skidding spray of leaves. She tasted blood from where she had bitten down hard on her tongue during the impact. Her body instinctively knew it lacked the strength to get back up again. Shaking, every breath burning her lungs and sending a stab of pain into her diaphragm, she barely managed to curl into fetal position before the beast was on her.

[Jaspenellar]

Despite the dire circumstances, Lo'en couldn't help but gape at the missed shot. The monster must have moved. Her aim had been true, there should be nothing but feathers protruding from one of those scaly, beady, cold eyes... which were now fixed on the young girl who was, for better or worse, heading in her direction. The half-elf had finally decided there wasn't enough time to review her wayward shot as the dark-haired girl skittered, slid to a tumbling halt, stirring some of the fallen leaves on the forest floor. Now that she was a bit closer, Lo'en's sharp eyes could tell she was in a sorry state, mussed hair, ragged clothes hanging from her bony frame like mange-ridden fur on a starved dog. Clearly her actions were spurred by the desperation of one staring death in the eyes, and the tiny voice of reason in Lo'en's mind was telling her she should be fleeing in the same manner as the girl. In the same breath, that pragmatic, cynical voice told her the beast would fall on the weaker of the two potential prey.

As if this half-elf ever heeded that voice. She wondered why she still had such a cautioning part of her mind.

Before the other girl's motion came to a full stop, Lo'en was leaping toward her. In a fluid motion, she scooped up the skinned carcass of the forest pig, arrow shaft still protruding from the body, and began winding her arm. If there had been more time, she would have stooped to exchange the precious meat for the useless offal and bones. As it was, the beast was bounding, picking up speed toward the fallen girl. With a fervent, vain hope that she'd be able to retrieve her dinner after this was all said and done, the half-elf flung the meat at the creature's head.

The distance between them had now closed by more than half, and the momentum she had built up sent the carcass with such force at the creature, there was a loud, wet smack as it connected squarely with the disgusting creature's face. So intent on its downed prey, the snake-cat monster had failed to see the flying object in time to dodge. Even if it had, the scent of fresh blood probably would have caused it to attempt to grab the hog in mid-air. Giving no further thought on might-have-been's, Lo'en continued her forward movement, taking advantage of whatever confusion or distraction her dinner had caused. There was no voice of caution now. She was between the girl and the monster and one of them had to die.

The half-elf had just enough time to mentally scoff at her morbid, overly-dramatic thought as she threw herself back, sliding feet first without regard for the cruel claws raking the earth with each step. The dazed, now blood crazed creature was blindly wagging its serpentine head back and forth, whipping it through the air as it simultaneously tried to scent the fresh meat with its forked tongue and shake off the daze it had caused. Lo'en had thrown her body down just in time, and through sheer luck, missed getting hit by the scaly head, the leaves carpetting the forest floor allowing her to skid between the creature's wide set, feline forelegs. Somehow, almost unconsciously, she had managed to draw her last weapon, a thin, curved carving knife on her way down. The half-elf had no time to determine if the 5-inch blade would be able to penetrate the beast's underbelly or regret that she had left her longer, thicker serrated knife with the remains of her kill. Grey eyes wide open with a hint of crazed mischief, as if this were nothing but a fun afternoon game, Lo'en thrust upward with her pitifully small knife.

[Aramyllis Dae]

The blade slid easily through the exposed skin of the belly, as if it were no thicker than tissue paper. Whether by skill or luck, it angled upward under the right side of the animal's ribcage and straight through the diaphragm; its deadly progress halted once the first inch of its tip had pierced the lining of a lung.

It was enough. A caterwaul split the air, so loud and shrill that it raised goosebumps on Aramyllis' flesh even as she slapped her hands over her ears. The beast tried to wrench away from the source of its pain, muscles contorting in its frenzy even as its powerful movements dragged the blade farther through its abdomen. It finally succeeded in freeing itself of the knife, but the damage was done.

The snake-cat lurched away from its attacker. The once fluid grace of its bounding strides had been replaced by an awkward, three-legged stagger, its right forepaw held motionless above the ground as if straightening it hurt. The serpentine head hung weakly on the end of a drooping neck. Every few moments, it emitted a bizarre, rasping noise, and it took several repetitions before Myllis realized the creature was coughing. She used her hands to push herself upright so that she could better watch. The beast appeared to have lost all interest in herself and the archer; clearly it had decided they wouldn't make such easy prey, after all.

Between the dry hacking and the harsh sucking of breaths, Aramyllis detected the faintest hissing. Blood leaked from the snake-cat's belly wound, bubbling slightly with each inhalation before dripping to the dirt, and a pink froth formed around its mouth. The head swiveled to stare at the humanoids one last time before the beast limped off into the darkness of the forest.

The young Shimian, meanwhile, was still feeling too weak to attempt to stand. Curled up on the ground as she had been during the archer's attack, she had not seen everything, but it was enough for her to understand what had just happened. It was all she could do to stare at her rescuer, eyes betraying her disbelief. "You saved me... Am I---Am I hallucinating? I ought to be dead by now." She turned to peer at the pile that was the pig carcass, and her nostrils flared delicately as she sniffed at the air. The rotten stench of the beast was gone. "You even threw your meal at it? I---thank you?"

[Jaspenellar]

Lo'en couldn't believe her luck but she was not about to waste the good fortune by allowing herself to be stomped on in her astonishment. As soon as the knife punctured the beast's skin, it reared away, and the half-elf rolled in the opposite direction, tucking her head as she tried to avoid the still-lethal claws though consciously more concerned for the arrows in the soft quiver along her side, hoping they wouldn't be completely smashed in the process. Fortunately the creature continued to totter away from her- she halted after four rotations, lying still on her belly, her head turned to toward her foe. Lo'en tensed, bringing her hands next to her chest, prepared to push herself off the ground and leap away if it decided to strike back in wounded retaliation as some animals tend to do. Half covered in dead leaves, however, she remained frozen, attentive, waiting, the roar of adrenaline in her ears slowly fading away.

The pain seemed to be too much for the amalgamated beast, and its focus did not turn to either of the young girls watching it. The half-elf's sharp grey eyes caught the surprisingly red blood dribbling from the wound, the knife having fallen out sometime during her roll away. Why such an odd monster should have normal red blood and normal organs such as lungs which could be punctured was beyond Lo'en's ken, but she did recognize the damage- a poor kid had died from puncturing itself in the same manner on a branch during a tumble down a ravine and there was nothing her father had been able to do about it.

She tensed again as it turned its beady, dulling eyes towards her and her fellow should-have-been prey, but it lurched off, leaving its meals alone in peace. The fact that it left her own dinner untouched did not escape the ever practical half-elf. As soon as the creature was out of her hearing distance, Lo'en pushed herself to her feet, brushing off the dead leaves and dirt as nonchalantly as if she'd simply been resting. She adjusted her quiver and to her delight found all four arrows intact. Casting about for her cap which had flown off sometime between her rushing the monster and the calamitous knife strike, Lo'en was about to continue along her business when the girl's wavering voice interrupted her.

"You saved me... Am I---Am I hallucinating? I ought to be dead by now... You even threw your meal at it? I---thank you?"

She was quite close to the dishevelled girl now, and her initial assessment of half-starved, skin and bones, was confirmed. Her dark hair was dull, even for the fading evening light, and in a wild tangle that was beyond even her careless attempts at grooming. The pallor under her skin went deeper than the shock of the encounter with the monster.

Lo'en, however sympathetic to the young girl as she was, had not heard a human voice in a few months and now felt somewhat ill at ease with the company. She caught sight of the white and black feather of her cap and walked over to it, picked it up, dusted it off, inspected the misshapen hat, and tugged it back over her own unkempt hair. The half-elf then went about looking for her knife, one of her more precious possessions before replying to her fellow survivor, her eyes intent on the darker parts of the ground where the blood had seeped into the dirt. "I suppose I'm stuck here for tonight as it'll be too dark to move elsewhere soon. You're welcome to share the roasted pig with me after I find this damnable knife, clear some space, dig a pit, and build a fire."

[Aramyllis Dae]

The starving girl crouched, skinny legs sprawled on the dirt where she still sat, with her back arching over into stooped shoulders. Her arms still trembled with fatigue and the remnants of absolute terror, a terror so cold it froze the blood into ice, so thick it paralyzed the mind and muscles alike. Aramyllis felt as if her flesh had turned to jelly inside her skin. It was all she could do to summon the brief presence of mind and shaky voice to answer the archer.

"I---I'll help."

That said, she had to go about getting to her feet. It was a slow, awkward process, in which she first rolled onto her knees and then scrambled to push herself erect despite the lack of cooperation from her quivering muscles. Halfway up, she had to pause and brace her hands on her knees as a wave of dizzying blackness swept through her. It was only after resting that way for several seconds before she managed to fully stand.

"I'll help you find some wood."

It was difficult to tell whether the girl's incoherence was attributable to the aftereffects of the attack, her apparent state of starvation, or a more general slowness of mind. And yet, the path she traced to retrieve her own knife, which lay half-buried in a littering of rotting leaves and loose soil, was as straight as had been the flight of the stranger's single arrow.

Blade sheathed against her thigh, Myllis turned to gathering fuel for the archer's fire. This, she knew how to do. Luckily, it hadn't rained in the last couple days and the ground was mostly dry, and deadwood was abundant here in the autumn forest; finding enough fuel would not be a difficult task.

Nevertheless, it took her several minutes to complete. A few times, she had to prop her wood against a nearby tree so that she could lean her weight against its sturdy trunk while her muscles stopped shaking. By the time she made it back to the spot the archer had chosen, her chest was heaving from exertion under the meager weight of the fuel bundled in her arms, and sweat dotted her ghostly pale face. She dropped the burden rather more abruptly than she intended. It fell and scattered on the ground at her feet, branches of various sizes ranging from twigs to small logs, dead leaf litter, and even some fungus she knew caught spark well. Aramyllis stared at the strewn jumble for a moment, blushing a bit, before stooping to neaten it. Not once did she look up at the half-elf.

[Jaspenellar]

The half-elf's half glance at the sound of the other's voice arrested her attention as effectively as if the monster had returned. Lo'en blinked her grey eyes slowly at the girl as she sat there trembling like a frightened hare who had not yet realized she had escaped, however narrowly, death. She saw... white-grey thread-like wisps emanating strangely from her, not unlike thick steam rising from boiling water. She instinctively reached out a hand toward the girl, though somewhere buried in her mind she knew she would not be able to physically tug those tempting, white threads...

And then she shifted, moving painfully to her feet and the strange, disconcerting aura receded back into the falling darkness. Lo'en did her best not to gasp for air, though her lungs burned and she felt as if she had been holding her breath for days, her head swimming with an ache reminiscent of a bad hangover. As it was, the strange, unfamiliar sensation kept her from responding to the girl's pitiable efforts at collecting firewood. For the entire time it took the other one to gather kindle for a cooking fire, Lo'en struggled to force down the dark, instinctive desires much like one forcefully swallowing back rancid bile.

Eventually she was able to function again by dedicating her full concentration to her menial tasks. She kicked at the dirt at her feet until she found her knife. It was by sheer luck that she found her meal in the deepening shadows of the evening, nearly stumbling over it as she rooted around the ground at the last place she had seen it drop. Realizing she wasn't going to be able to find her pack before they got some light from a fire going, Lo'en reluctantly moved closer to inspect the girl's work.

She had gathered a good amount of deadfall and, surprisingly, hadn't neglected to find kindling. The half-elf hovered around the girl momentarily, as if afraid to touch her, even though her previous 'aura' had long since disappeared. She was slightly disappointed that the poor thing hadn't scratched out a shallow hole for the fire- not only would it provide a small measure of protection against the cool autumnal evening breeze, it would provide some dirt they could easily throw on the fire if it were to get out of hand. Not that she had ever let a fire grow out of control since she was ten...

Grumbling nothing intelligible under her breath, the half-elf knelt not far from the pile of sticks and grabbed one of the thicker ones. Using that and her hands, she quickly scooped out a shallow pit in the soft dirt, carefully removing any of the fallen leaves from its circumference. Lo'en muttered a breath of thanks to whoever might be listening that she had a flint in a pocket sewn inside her tunic hem and did not have to go digging roots for a fire bow. She deftly struck a spark into the soft, fibrous meat of the fungus, quickly picking it up afterward as she blew gently to coax a flame to life. Lo'en set it down in the middle of her pit, feeding dead leaves first, smaller twigs next, and finally tendering the larger, longer burning sticks.

The half elf finally sat down, taking out her carving knife and picking out two short stubby branches, and one longer, thick one. She spoke as she set to work getting shorter stakes set in the ground on opposite sides of the small fire. "So what brings you t'this neck of th'woods?" Her earlier episode had slid to the far reaches of her consciousness and she was hoping to lay the blame for the bizarre hallucination on the after-effects of adrenaline.

[Aramyllis Dae]

Aramyllis did what she could to help the archer to prepare the fire, shuffling about offering promising sticks and fanning the infant fire with her hands and breath. However, her attempt at assistance was more a hindrance than an aid. Her movements were slow and unsteady, and several times she tripped up both herself and her savior when she blundered into the latter's way. These incidences were always followed by a quick, grunted, "Sorry," before the girl floundered off to begin another superfluous task.

Her underfed mind was engrossed by the limited mental focus required to perform such basic chores. Nothing existed outside of the next step to be accomplished, the next motion to execute, the next muscle to flex. She didn't have the spare attention necessary to take note of the archer's distraction, or the sensations roiling from her.

The girl's harried activity continued as the young woman began putting together a frame to holding the spit. Aramyllis scurried to scoop up the pig carcass and began cutting the meat in smaller pieces to skewer for roasting.

"So what brings you t'this neck of th'woods?

Myllis' hands stopped abruptly, knife poised in the air for the next cut. In seemed she was incapable of conversing and working at the same time. She gaped at the archer as if surprised by the words for a long moment, until her blank expression was replaced by one of discomfiture.

"I just like to spend some time away from the town now and then..." She paused, pondering whether to say more on the subject, before going on, vaguely. "It's so beautiful out here this time of year."

The girl returned to slicing thin strips of meat from the carcass. When she had finished and set the strips within easy reach for Lo'en, she ventured, "And how about you? Why did you happen to be here at the right time to save me?" She glanced down at the meat, then to the ground. "Apparently you have more experience with this kind of living than me. I haven't seen you around Shim, and most Marnians don't know one kind of plant from another. That means you must be from outside. Right?"

In spite of her sallow complexion and matted hair, something bold and inquisitive was visible in the girl's eyes, behind the glassy stare.

[Jaspenellar]

Shim? Marnian... Marn? Lo'en's mind reeled. Had she truly wandered that far south without realizing it? An image of white and black feathered wings flashed in her mind's eye. Was that the reason Justinaryn' had refused to follow her into the woods? The half-elf looked up at the darkened canopy of the forest, knowing he was not there at the moment. There would have been more dead branches and leaves raining down on their heads if the large griffin had decided to roost in those tree tops.

Lo'en returned her attention to the girl sitting across from the fire. Deftly skewering the meat along the longer stick, she set the meat across the fire, resting the ends against the stakes she had set moments earlier. The other girl did not appear dumb, but neither had she the survival skills required to live off the land as the half-elf had acquired from her parents and honed through her travels. Finding herself growing uncomfortable with being gazed at with human eyes, Lo'en grabbed one of the thicker sticks from the fire, its end just starting to burn.

She spoke loudly as got up and moved around the improvised campsite with her makeshift torch. "No, right y'are, I'm most definitely lost."

The last map she had laid eyes on was two months ago. Typically she could care less where she was going, as long as she was on the move. Marn, however, was a city with which the Jaspenellars wanted nothing to do. Something almost instinctual made Lo'en shy away from the mere name. And yet... Bringing herself back to the present, the half-elf wandered in circles around the fire, looking for her dropped pack, but staying close enough to keep an eye on the girl.

"I'm Lo'en. Jaspenellar," she added as an afterthought, pausing in her search. "And you'll pardon my intrusiveness, but 'some time' away from town does not result in..." Lo'en frowned and waved her hands in a vague motion, causing her torchlight to flicker and dance. She was referring to the girl's unkempt state but was not sure how to broach the subject without appearing too rude. The half-elf made no mention of the beast or the unusual encounter, not quite sure of what to make of it herself. As horrific as the construct was, at least it had been a well-defined shape which adhered somewhat to the natural laws and not another strange jelly monster.

[Aramyllis Dae]

Seated carelessly on the bare earth hugging her knees, the girl was finally able to spare enough attention to turn her full senses on her savior. The archer was clearly perturbed. She glanced up at the darkened sky briefly--Aramyllis could only assume she was trying to sight the moon and stars in order to get her bearings; the girl had heard of sailors from the south and west doing that--but of course the heavens were obscured by dense foliage.

Myllis felt a sudden rush of pride: she could help her disoriented savior, and hence could begin to pay back her debt.

"You're not lost anymore. I can tell you exactly where we are. I can even draw you a map, if you want." Not that the girl knew much about what lay beyond the boundaries of Thar Shaddin, but she did know roughly where they were in relation to Shim and Marn. Without even waiting for the half-elf's acquiescence, she grabbed up a stick from their depleted stack of kindling and began scratching in the dirt with it, making a lopsided star to represent their current position and a clumsy line for the Ofriyu Mar, not half a day's hike away. But then she stopped. The end of the stick hovered in the air a few inches from the ground, shaking with the girl's tremors, and an expression of bewildered dismay contorted her features.

The earlier adrenaline rush had worn off completely, leaving in its place utter exhaustion of both the mind and body. Aramyllis would've sworn she could sketch out the map, but now that she was actually making the attempt, she found herself drawing a blank, instead. Perhaps the archer hadn't noticed her confusion. Before she could make more of a fool of herself, the girl gently replaced the stick on its pile with a mumbled, "Maybe in the morning."

As the fire grew hotter, the meat began to cook through, and its thick, savory aroma filled the air around the fire. Aramyllis found herself made desperately impatient. The nagging hunger pangs returned in full force, after having been so dull for several consecutive days that the girl had rarely noticed them in her weakness. Soon she was salivating like a dog waiting for table scraps. If the archer hadn't been right there watching her, Myllis likely would've eaten the meat right then, fully cooked or not.

Fortunately, the half-elf seemed to notice her growing restlessness, and interrupted it with an introduction and further conversation.

"I'm Lo'en. Jaspenellar.... And you'll pardon my intrusiveness, but 'some time' away from town does not result in..." Lo'en frowned and waved her hands in a vague motion, causing her torchlight to flicker and dance. She was referring to the girl's unkempt state but was not sure how to broach the subject without appearing too rude.

"Lo'en..." Aramyllis repeated the name to herself quietly, both to aid her memory and to gain herself some time while she considered how to answer the archer's implicit question. She felt her cheeks heating in shame. Stupid.

"I----Okay, so I come out here a lot. But I had no trouble finding enough food in the spring and summer. I guess I stayed out too long once the season started to turn again, though. I didn't anticipate this happening. It's not like I purposely came out here to starve myself to death." She glanced up from the ground to the half-elf, challenge in her eyes. "I hope you're not going to lecture me now. I promise you I've heard it enough this past week."

The girl didn't appear to realize what she had just revealed, or at least hinted at. Instead, she pushed herself up to her feet. She couldn't wait any longer. The meat was sizzling and popping, juices dripping into the fire with short, hissing sounds. Myllis wrapped her hand around one end of the spit--it was hot, but not quite enough to burn her palm--and lifted it away from the flames. Some of the juices ran down onto her fingers, and these did burn, but she didn't care: nothing could delay her now. Sticking the other end of the stick firmly into the ground so that it would stand on its own, she slid a piece of meat off the top. It was a perfect reddish pink in the middle.

She juggled the strip between her hands to cool it for as long as she could stand to wait, which still wasn't long enough. When she sunk her teeth into the meat, the heat of it stung her tongue and lips, but it tasted divine nonetheless. The starving girl barely even took time to chew before she was tearing off another bite. Engrossed in the food, she seemed to have forgotten the presence of the half-elf, as well as the fact that it was not her meal to begin with. Hunger and the instinct to gorge had taken over.