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| − | [ST] The airboat Steadfast arrives in Icehome at midday, but by the time it finishes taking on cargo and passengers for its run east to Fort Bear, the sun has dipped low in the winter sky. The airboat rises serenely above the city, bringing the Citadel and all of Icehome into magnificent view for a moment as it drifts out of the Greenfield, lashed by biting winds and laden with goods.
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| − | [ST] In spring or autumn one might dare to stand on that deck - in winter, only the foolhardy or the skilled dare the deck, moving about carefully anchored via towlines, lashed by sleet and snow, slipping on icy decks and tending rudders that might freeze at any moment. All others retreat belowdecks, to cramped cargo holds hastily converted to carry passengers, lit fitfully by swinging lamps
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| − | [ST] and smelling unpleasantly of sweat, grime, and yeddim dung.
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| − | [ST] In the holds below, a group of the strangely- and lightly- dressed Fellai sit at a table, playing some competitive game that involves chips of stone and speaking quickly in their strange dialect of Skytongue. A dour old merchant sits alone in the corner. Springing Elk sits quietly at one of the tables, sharpening his knives.
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| − | [Otter] Otter sits swaddled in layer after layer of furs, resolutely keeping her eyes from the nearbly porthole and the great...nothing that lay between them and the ground.
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| − | [Fish] As a young man he'd crewed an ice ship. Now he had more sense, and stayed below with the rest. He'd never gotten used to airships. They had a different gait than his ships had - either on water or ice. It bobbed almost, rather disturbingly.
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| − | [Otter] Otter smiles at him resolutely. She would not keep her own queasiness interfere with her work "I'm sorry Kekk got hurt," she tells him.
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| − | [Fish] He shrugs and spits on teh deck, passively hostile. "You need a strong hand with him when he gets a damn fool notion in his head."
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| − | [Otter] She keeps a bright smile pasted on her face, but nods slowly in agreement. "He wasted energy challenging for leadership," she agrees. Her eyes are a bit hard. "I'm sorryhe got hurt, but I'm glad we won't be having that problem any longer. A buck with a head on either end doesn't get far."[Otter] She had once seen such a creature stagger out of a Wyld fog. The hunters had killed it and the shaman buried it quickly, before any creature could touch its flesh and be tainted by it.
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| − | [ST] Elk grunts mildly. He could be agreeing or simply registering amusement.
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| − | [Fish] He grunts. "If you were a leader, you'd have controlled him. You're too green for this. This isn't whatever ice patch you grew up in. Elk should be giving the orders. He did a right good little job up north, from what I hear, leading veterans."
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| − | [Fish] From what he knew of Miruna, he wouldn't have been letting a boy like him lead, cept on paper. But if the boy was trained for it, he'd let another take his lead.
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| − | [ST] "That wasn't my idea," Elk says mildly. "Soldas decided. Miruna was not pleased."
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| − | [Otter] Otter's brow lower. Her nostrils flare. She saw what Fish did there. "I don't doubt Elk's capabilities," she says pleasantly. "But we need to be united, not running about in all directions. Make sure you remember that." She nods cooly to him and stands up. Don't even give him time to argue. She crosses the room and plops down in front of Elk
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| − | [Otter] "I wanted to talk to you too," she says bluntly, leaning forward with her arms crossed on the table in front of her.
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| − | [ST] "Imagine that," Elk says, not looking up from his sharpening. From somewhere in the room comes a muffled snort of laughter.
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| − | [Fish] "And? That made it easier to do the job? Stop being so damned humble. She can't lead us, and it damned well better not be me." He rubbed his finger stump, annoyed. Running things from behind always sounded like a great idea, but it was such an awkward thing.
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| − | [Otter] Otter glares at him. "Stop malingering. I dunno what bee you have in your pants, but you're not helping, and I don't think you're trying to help." She turns away from him, takes a breath. She can see it fog in the air. Her stomach felt all tight and nervous, watery.
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| − | [Fish] "Oh, aye, the newest member of the crew is the natural leader. Tell me, did you even go through the training before they slapped a raven on you? I hear not."
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| − | [Otter] She was stalking a bird. Kekk was right. If she were real hunter, she would stay stilll and quiet and let Elk land neatly in her hand. She blows out a puff of air. "I'm sorry," she says, with all the frankness and sincerity she can muster. "I've been awful these past weeks. I know you don't want- and I'm sorry I haven't always...respected your feelings."
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| − | [Otter] Otter squeezes her eyes shut. This was a nightmare. She was trying to lie as sincerely as she ever had, and this ..this Fish person...kept INTERRUPTPING. She whips her head around. "It was waived. Because I whupped the trainer's ass at spears and at hunting. I'm in charge, not you, and not Elk. So stow it!"
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| − | [ST] Elk takes it in quietly, ignoring Fish's rejoinder. "Thanks," he mutters at last. "Just... keep respecting them, and we won't have any problems. And I'd rather you lead than me. Maybe Fish doesn't recall that nearly half the fang died on the last mission I led." He laughs shortly, but there's no humor in the sound.
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| − | [Otter] Otter's face is flushed. It hurt, even if it wasn't real. "The Once Dead get the tough missions. Nothing you could've done. I've been here two months, and I know that... Anyway," she continues awkwardly. "We need to work together. I know I've been brat, but I hope we can be friends."
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| − | [Fish] He spat again, crabby. He couldn't lead, they all knew it, if for different reasons. And damn if she didn't have history with Elk. He'd need to look into things. "You're in charge cause you said you're in charge," he gave a sour mocking grin. "Well, take your rope, and use it wisely." Elk wasn't going to buck her say, it seemed. So, he'd have to wait, see how she did things.
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| − | [ST] "Sounds like you should be working on Fish right now," Elk says with a chuckle. He finishes sharpening the blade and slides it into its sheath.
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| − | [Otter] Be careful I don't hang YOU with it. Otter has to bite down hard to keep from snarling it at him. "Seems so," she agrees, moving back to the nest she cleared. "Never fear," she tells Fish with an edged smile as she settles down and closes her eyes.
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| − | [ST] One of the Fellai gets up and sits next to the Once Dead, a young man with the dark hair and dark eyes of his people. Quite attractive, and very incongruous in thin cotton shirt, open at the neck. They say the Fellai have witch blood in them, and cold does not touch their bodies as it does other men. "We are to be fellow travelers, then?" the man asks. His gaze flickers between Fish and
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| − | [ST] Otter. "Am I interrupting--?"
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| − | [Otter] Otter sits up and smiles. "Not at all," she assures him. She did fake welcome well, too.
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| − | [ST] "My friends and I," he waves back towards the four others sitting at the table behind you. "Are foreigners in your land. We are wondering at the meaning of..." He points to his cheek, looking at Winter Fish.
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| − | [Fish] "Nah" he shakes his head. He pats his cheek "This's a unit sign. Whats that game you were playing?" He thought he remembered how to play it, and he damn well knew how to mis-palm chips. He'd gotten a bit out of his mask, and it needed reseating. A bit of a fist-fight, see how Otter'd react.
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| − | [ST] "Just a game of jumping stones." The man nods slowly. "You know the nature of our city, doubtless. Its stones do have.. their own strange properties. We bet which way they will leap when placed atop each other."
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| − | [Fish] "Ah" curious now. "What happens if you shade one over, so its not on straight? It jump that way, or any which way?"
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| − | [ST] He shrugs. "It depends. They have minds of their own. It's said that the positioning can influence the leap, but that is why we each have a turn at the stacking." He smiles slowly. "Will you all join us? We are curious about your land."
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| − | [Otter] "Certainly," Otter agrees, rising and coming to their table. "It's always good to make new friends."
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| − | [Fish] He levers himself up. Maybe it wasn't worth trying to cheat. Well, maybe later. For now he wanted to see how these things worked. "Whats the stakes?"
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| − | [ST] The man gives a laugh. "Welcome, I am Aru. These are my friends. He hurriedly names the others, too quick to follow. An old man, his hair beginning to gray, a man who could be (and probably is) Aru's brother, and pair of young women, long hair tied back by leather circlets, shoulders bare in the biting cold.
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| − | [ST] "Weapons," the old man says. "Or silver. But weapons are better. Nice steel you were sharpening there, boy."
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| − | [ST] Elk mumbles something as he takes a seat next to one of the women.
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| − | [Otter] Otter focuses on Aru and tried to ignore a hot flash of jealousy.
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| − | [ST] Aru lays out a reed mat, covered with squares and little slashes to represent numbers. In the center, there is a large painted red circle. Atop this, Aru stacks a number of smooth, flat stones. Scarcely is the stack completed than it starts to wobble. He reaches down to his belt and pulls out a knife with a wooden handle and a curved blade of obsidian. It is exceedingly well-made. He tosses it
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| − | [ST] on the table before him.
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| − | [ST] "Who wishes to wager with me?" he says.
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| − | [Otter] "I'll bet," Otter volunteers. "What are the stakes?"
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| − | [ST] Aru gestures at the fine weapon he has just placed. A moment later, wordlessly, Elk tosses a sheathed blade onto the table. The Fellai make interested sounds. They are a people who appreciate fine steel.
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| − | [Otter] Otter lifts her fingers up to her ears and takes off two silver earings, dropping them on the table. "I made these," she says, though in truth the quality of metal was better than the quality of the workmanships.
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| − | [Fish] Fish leans back. "I'll watch these jump for myslef before I lay money on them." He smiles, to take the edge of accusation off his words.
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| − | [ST] "These stones lose potency the longer they are away from Fella," Aru explains with his persistant grin. "But they still have some spring in them. It will begin soon, so you had best make your choice..."
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| − | [Otter] Otter tilts her head, examining the stones. It seemed random. She touches a spot on the table. "This distance."
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| − | [Fish] "I have stakes though." He pulls his ice chisel from his belt, backup for close in work. Its flat and heavy, one edge and its square tip sharpened, ready to chisel though ice to fish, or gut anything that might be bothering the fisherman. He also fishes out a small and very well made flame piece.
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| − | [ST] Elk points out another space, and Aru indicates another, some distance from Otter's. There are a few more tense seconds as the stones vibrate, and then the red-marked one atop the stack leaps off as if it actually jumped, landing almost directly on the square Otter chose... and bouncing away from it, winding up next to Aru's square. He laughs.
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| − | [ST] "My people have a saying," he says teasingly as he sweeps the goods towards him. "Fair of face and cursed by luck." He winks at Otter.
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| − | [Fish] "Works for me," he laughs.
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| − | [Otter] Otter smiles. "The winners say so that they'll still be bedded at the end of the day, no doubt."
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| − | [ST] He inclines his head towards her slightly. "Just so. Still, I would be a poor host indeed if I did not give you a chance to win these treasures back... what do you say, my friend?" He nods at Fish now. "Your stake against mine?"
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| − | [Fish] He fingers his ear. "Never been one for earrings, but I'll put my toy against my friend's knife." He nudges the flame-piece forward. "Who stacks this time?"
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| − | [ST] Aru views the flame piece sidelong. For a moment, his friendly face mask flickers, and his face is marked by utter disgust. "You may stack, friend. And I will offer my blade as well as your friend's. Only- please. Wager something else. Your chisel, perhaps."
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| − | [ST] The woman leans over, whispering something in Elk's ear. He reddens.
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| − | [Fish] He raises an eyebrow. "Ever seen one of these before? I'd wager it costs more than the knife." He fingers the fine wood of the grip. "Want a demonstration?" He grins, challenging. Might be a good time for a fight after all.
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| − | [ST] The woman gives a cry of alarm, and Elk grabs her elbow. "Probably not the best idea, Fish." A glare flits across Aru's face.
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| − | [Otter] "If Fish won't bet the chisel," Otter says with careful cheerfulness, not quite in time, "I'd be happy to bet my ring for get back the earrings." She slips it off her finger and holds it up so they can see.
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| − | [Otter] She shakes her head, still amiable. "And stow the pistol, Fish. Fire on a ship like this is just stupid."
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| − | [Fish] "Think I don't know how to work it on a ship?" He smiles. "Wasn't going to shoot the man, or anything he holds precious. But if he don't like my stakes, lets let yours play." He scoops his weapons, returning them to their places, and leans back, watching.
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| − | [Otter] "Hah!" Otter exclaims as the stone lands neatly at the exact spot she had appointed to.
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| − | [ST] The stones are stacked once more, and tremble like nervous hares about to spring. The spaces are marked, and then the stones scatter. The marked stone bounces again, clattering on the table, but this time it is a fortunate bounce for Otter, carrying it to the edge of her square.
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| − | [ST] "Lucky as well as beautiful," Aru says, all smiles again. He slides the earrings back to Otter, and the obsidian knife as well. "Doubly a threat to any man." The other Fellai chuckle politely.
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| − | [Otter] Otter grins at him, hooking her earrings back on her ears.
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| − | [ST] "So," the woman asks softly. "Why do you travel to Fort Bear?"
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| − | [Otter] Otter laughs. "I was on the verge of asking you the same question! We're to meet comrades there."
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| − | [Otter] "What brings you out that direction?"
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| − | [ST] "We are arms merchants among the Fellai," Aru answers. "Trading in our obsidian weapons. Your Greenlivers and militias have little use for them, but the herdfolk appreciate their edge. Fort Bear does a brisk trade in such things this time of year."
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| − | [ST] In a distant part of the hold, a chained yeddim lows angrily. "Yeah yeah, hold your horses," its trainer is heard to complain.
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| − | [Otter] "Oh? You must make the trip often, then. I've not travelled much. What's it like out there?"
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| − | [ST] "It is the first time for most of us, though Alar here has made a number of trips." Aru gestures to the older man. "It is a small city by any standards, some few thousands, but at this time of year all your herd folk come in from the Outwall for trading and revelry such as you enjoy."
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| − | [Otter] Otter dimples. "Plenty of opportunities for gambling. Maybe we'll see you there."
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| − | [ST] "Perhaps so. But please, enjoy our hospitality. We have wine - you will drink with us, yes?"
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| − | [Otter] "Indeed, and thank you!"
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| − | [Fish] He grins. "Never say no to a drink." Just don't always drink it.
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| − | [Otter] Otter is young and charming, drinking enough to be social and get pleasingly drunk, but not so much that she disgraces herself. She responds increasingly well to compliments, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling. As the evenings wears on towards tipsy, she coaxes Munroe from her hood, and delights the company by tosses him nuts. The squirrel leaps off the table and glides to catch them.
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| − | [Otter] She is careful to keep any jealousy from her demanor when the woman touches Elk, and whispers in his ear, just as if the Fellai woman had a right.
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| − | [Fish] Fish settles down with the hard drinkers of the group, and after quite a bit of the wine, even more if you weren't paying close attention, he was telling grand and somewhat vulgar tales of fishing on the ice below. ". . . And then Kekk jumped in after me. Saving me from my own fish. Amorous thing. I swear, it was humping my like like some watery dog."
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| − | [ST] Aru, for his part, remains as charming as he can. He spots Otter's glance when Elk and the woman steal off, and places a hand on her wrist, and makes flattering compliments, and praises Fish for his ability to hold liquor, laughs at his jokes. Otter notices that his touch is chill and cold.
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| − | [Otter] Otter is grateful to him for his generosity, though quietly ashamed that he had noticed. She laughs at his jokes only a little less often that he does.
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| − | [Fish] After many a drink, Fish decides he wants to follow in Otter's footsteps, and makes a fool of himself with the other woman of the group. It was rather unfortunate that he'd gotten drunk enough to brag about some of the current work he did, rather than the fairy tales of fishing days he normally stuck to.
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| − | [ST] The night wears on, and then wears down, and the sun rises on the still-drunk, the hung-over, and the bitter. Elk re-emerges around midmorning, hair tousled, and the day passes in painful tedium. Though the air boats are fast, the distance is long. It is not until stars glimmer in the sky that the steersman above calls out, "Ahoy! Fort Bear ahead!"
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| − | [ST] And, through the flakes of nightsnow that swirl around the porthole, the city-state is visible. One sees why the city gets its name almost immediately - against the walls that mark the small Greenfield nestles a hill, and atop that hill a massive outcropping of white stone in the shape of a great frost bear. A sacred fire burns in its mouth, well tended by local shamans. Below it, on the flank
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| − | [ST] of the hill, the lights of homes and business shine like snowflies.
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| − | [ST] A tall wall of sharpened logs rings the town, nothing but a village next to Icehome's enormity. Even in winter, only about 10,000 people dwell within the walls. The lights of the city, howver, are dwarfed by the lights around it. The herdsfolk have come in to trade, and even from the air one can see thousands of campfires and the shadows of aghars and tipis ringing the city.
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| − | [ST] The airboat makes a winding, lazy circle over the greenfield and another, and another, dipping lower each time, making for the flat airfield outside the city, little more than a long, muddy stretch of flat ground. It lands with a force that jars the teeth.
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| − | [Otter] Otter leaps out over the side eagerly. "Come on, slowpokes!" she calls laughingly up to the others.
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| − | [Fish] Fish leans on the rail, slightly hung over, and not much enjoying the icy wind. "Might want to keep an eye out when we come in. They should be able to figure we're on this ship, and Jondar's a clever one."
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| − | [ST] Elk, laden with the supplies for the journey, takes a rather more cautious route down as the captain unfurls a rope ladder. The Fellai stand on deck, seemingly unperturbed by the biting winds, waving amiably as the Once Dead depart.
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| − | [ST] Despite Fish's words of warning, there is no ambush, and soon the three Once Dead soldiers find themselves standing on the muddy airfield, looking up at the lights of the village and the barely controlled chaos surrounding it. Sparrow and Jondar may be up there somewhere, or already fled.
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| − | [Otter] Otter waves goodbye enthusiastically. "The inns are likely all booked up," Otter remarks as she takes her pack from Elk. She sets off through the mud at a trudge. "We could stay with some herdsmen, I supect. They'd be glad of news."
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| − | [Otter] "Then find this Wise Grandmother who was recieving the shipments."
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| − | [Fish] He nods, sourly. He'd have to be careful to avoid the people here he'd used to do buisness with. They shouldn't recognize him, he'd pout effort into that, but he had to be careful. On the other hand, they were the type of people that one went to when yuou were on the run.
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| − | [ST] "Well..." Elk says uncertainly, scratching the back of his head. "There are certainly enough tribes to choose from."
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| − | [ST] Even from here, that much is clear - totems of many rear up out of the press of laughter, shouting, and trading - Deer, Ferret, Rabbit, Hawk...
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| − | [Otter] A tribe with ugly daughters, Otter thinks. She glances around for totems that she recognized, that were allies with her people.
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| − | [ST] Otter spots a number of likely totems. The Rabbit Tribe are Sparrow's own people, and might hold the most news, but are also liable to be closed-mouth, and have no particular love nor hate for The People. The Walrus Tribe is an old staunch ally of her people, but their numbers and influence are on the wane. The Frost Bear tribe is one she will want to avoid - a long and bitter animosity
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| − | [ST] exists between them and her own people.
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| − | [Otter] "We'll stay with the Walrus," Otter decides, quickening her step. They may be less powerful than they once were, but they'd be free enough with the blankets and the information, and that's what she needed.
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| − | [Otter] She follows their totem signs to the biggest tent, pausing outside to gather herself, and claps loudly, as was the custom.
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| − | [ST] There is a rustle from within - snow falls from the aghar's flap as it opens, revealing a man over six feet tall, his blond hair tightly braided, his face swallowed by a thatch of a beard. "Who presents herself before the tent of Chief Wild-Eyes of the Walrus Tribe, She-Who-Catches-The-Rabbit-In-Its-Den, She-Who-Shouts-Boasts-to-the-Sky?"
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| − | [Fish] Fish follows along. He didn't want to talk to any of his own sources, since it was best if they kept thinking he was dead. So for now it was best if he left Otter to her own ideas. From what he'd heard, the most likely place to look was Sparrow's tribe, and Otter wasn't going to overlook that.
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| − | [Otter] Otter inclines her head to the apppropriate degree. "I am Spritely Otter, daughter of the Ferocious Bear and the Fox, whose spear pierced the sky." She rushes through a ritual boast and plea for shelter.
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| − | [Otter] "I am glad to hear of the health and mighty strength of Chief Wild-Eyes," she adds. The chief had been coughing and puking up phlem the last she'd seen her.
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| − | [ST] "Indeed, it is as ever strong," the man says, looking over her shoulder. "And these others, who come to us with the marks of corpses? Who are they? What do you want of Chief Wild-Eyes?"
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| − | [Fish] He'd dealt with the tribes a number of times before. "I am Winter Fish. Before I died, I fished the ice sea, as did my father and his before him. Now I follow Otter, with the Dead of Icehome." They liked her more than him, no reason to get into the details of their arrangement in public.
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| − | [Fish] Not that there was an arrangement yet.
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| − | [Otter] "These are my friends and comrades, and they wish to share in the hospitality that is ever bountiful at the home of the Walrus. It has been long since the Fox-and-Bear have sat together the Walrus. There are some small questions that occur to me as well, that well I know Chief Wild-Eyes can answer wisely." Otter waves this away as almost inconsequential.
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| − | [ST] "Very well," the man says, with a short nod. "Enter." He opens the tent, ushering the two within. Heat radiates from a burning brazier in the center, and flickering flames cast odd shadows across the bare tent. A woman, eighty if she is a day, sits cross legged near the flame, looking up as the others enter. A phlegmy cough shakes her chest - Otter has not misremembered.
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| − | [Otter] Otter bows respectfully, as appropriate to a Chief and an elder, but proudly- the People had much honor themselves, and were far more powerful.
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| − | [Otter] "Chief Wild-Eyes," she says warmly; the old woman had brought toys whenever she had visited with her father or aunt. "I am glad to see you well." She comes sit by the fire.
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| − | [ST] "Who stands before She-Who-Shouts-Boasts-to-the-Sky?" the old woman asks, her voice scratchy but still strong. She strains eyes that are beginning to fail. "No, that voice..." It takes her but a moment "Otter, it is, yes? Springing Otter? Seat yourself."
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| − | [Otter] Otter doesn't bother to correct her. She goes to her knees beside Chief Wild-Eyes. "My thanks. It is good to see you." They trade news and boasts, and speak disparagingly of the Frost Bears together, before Otter comes to the subject of her visit.
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| − | [Otter] "Thank you, Chief who Shouts Boasts to the Sky, for your ever-generous hospitality. I have come on some small favor for the Haslanti, with whom I am wintering. We are seeking a woman named Gentle Sparrow, who is from an emerald south and west of here. Do you know anything of her, or her partner in dealings, Wise Grandmother?"
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| − | [ST] The old woman coughs again, a wet, rattling sound. Her death is in it, in a season or a year or another ten: no man can say for sure. She thinks for a moment, amid the flickering shadows and the smell of burning elk chips. Elk stands silent, watching.
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| − | [ST] "I know many Wise Grandmothers, though not the one you seek *kaff*. Of Gentle Sparrow I can tell you little save what is known to us and burdensome to her people - her shame. It was only a handful of seasons ago that her father was gravely wounded in an attack by the formless ones."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Crimson Bear was a strong chieftain, a good leader. Proof that what the gods speak of is true - seed is not always strong. With her father made into a shell of a man and her mother thrown out of leadership, the treacherous daughter fled for the soft green life, to lie on her back and whore herself to the townsfolk. Or so it is said."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "And now, within this dance of Luna, her mother, Guiding Sparrow, dead in another attack. The shame. If only her daughter had been here."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] The Fair Folk again, then. This Gentle Sparrow had been orphaned as an adult rather than a child. "That is a shame of the daughter of Crimson Bear," Otter says blandly after a moment. "It is surely her duty to seek revenge, if she has the honor to recognize it. Surely her people will welcome her back that she may do that."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She hoped no one was saying she whored herself out to the softlings. True, the Fox-and-Bear were more cosmpolitan than the Walrus, but they had never approved of the enthusiasm with which she had pursued Elk.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Perhaps, but passion is poorly tamed," the old woman shakes her head. "In any case, I have heard nothing of her return."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] Fish eyed her, trying not to make it obvious. He wondered if she had meant that. If she still held tribal loyalties above those of the Once Dead, he needed to know of it. Never get caught off guard.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Thank you for sharing your wisdom," Otter says, cupping her hands in the appropriate manner. She proposes a toast, and there is another hour of caribou butter tea before they escape.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "We should check the taverns next," Otter says. "Even if the Rabbit Tribe has refused to aid or shelter Sparrow, they will not yield her up to outsiders, however she has shamed herself."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Some among the Rabbits may have helped her," Elk ventures. "Were we to pose as her allies..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter is silent. "They are likely warned against that...but it is certainly worth an attempt. They could hardly attack us, after they offered hospitality."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] "Find one of them in an alehouse, get her drunk enough, bribe her enough, and we'll know."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] It had been what she was going to propose, but- "If she's as despised as it seems, she'll only have confided in friends. I think we are better off with Elk's plan."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She leads them to the Rabbit standard. It was dinner-time, and they'd be gathered around the fires. Best time to attract attention.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The rabbit tribe, perhaps appropriate for a people who have chosen such a totem, tend to the slight, small, and wiry side. But it isn't wise to draw their anger, they're rumored to be as good with their knives as anyone. When one's totem animal is a rabbit, one has to be tough. As Otter has thought, when the Once Dead arrive most of them are gathered around central cookfires, ringed by
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] their aghars.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] No one challenges their entry into the general area- if each of the intermingled tribes kept a watch on their borders, no one would get any moving or trading done.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He scowls at her back. This seemed like a bad idea. They might trust tribal hospitality, but he remembered enough tribesmen to know that was foolish. They might jut throw them out on their ear in public, but if they were found out, they would have to watch shadows for the rest of their time here.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter stops one. "Hello," she says, in a friendly, open way. "Who is the leader here? May I speak with them?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The middle-aged man raises his dark, bushy eyebrows. "And who are you, to come among the Rabbit tribe so? Who are you, to speak with Chief Son-of-Hare?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He hangs back, not sure if he should join the others at the fires. His raven tattoo was unhideable, after all that'd been part of the point, and he wasn't sure they wanted to be linked to the Once Dead. If they were helping Sparrow, they would have been warned.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] So, he hangs back. Firelight might brighten the area around it, but it hurt their nightvision as well. He could stay lose enough to follow what happened without being seen, so long as he was careful to avoid people walking about away from the fires.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "My name is Otter. I'm from the Once Dead- a friend of Gentle Sparrow's. We heard of her loss and- and we came to help." She adopts the settled Haslanti accent that always sounded slightly supersilicious to the nomads.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man gives a short bray of laughter. "And why should our Chief speak to you, dead thing? Soft-Green-Fielders. Was Sparrow your whore?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He eyes her up and down, dismissive. "Your kind has no help to give to our people."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter stiffens. She may be playing a role, but she was unused to being spoken of in that matter. "Sparrow is our friend and comrade. She saved my life once, when we fought Icewalkers. She keep your insults, unless you are prepared to back them up with spears."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "If you have the honor of your mothers, you will tell me who I shall speak with you. Or has the Rabbit tribe forsaken fellowship?" She realizes, too late, she had slipped a little bit into the speech of an affronted tribeswoman. Ah well. He was unlikely to catch the difference.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "If your story be true," he clearly does not believe it, "You know a different Sparrow. The one we are shamed to have once called Rabbit abandoned her parents in her father's weakness, and lied to us upon our return." He turns aside, spitting. It does not hit Otter, fortunately - this would be an insult she could not ignore.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Is she here then?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He shakes his head. Apparently he shouldn't have bothered to stay out of sight. If Sparrow was being helped by them, they wouldn't welcome Once Dead 'comrades.'
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "She is not," the man says. "She came here with a beardless Greenfielder. She spoke of her mother, and her desire for revenge... until she heard of our war party riding north. She left then, heading west, with her hairless man and her gutless friend. She will not show her face among us again and live."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What of it, then? Are you a coward like she?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter puts her hand to her knife. "Shall I prove to you that I am not? Tell me of her friend. I understood that she...did not leave this place on good terms."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "You prove nothing with your words but your own shame. I am no corner rumormonger from your green, soft lands. I am Hand-of-Ice. I have gone into the twisted lands and returned whole. I have cut the heart from an ice caribou. I need not answer the questions of some mewling pup."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Yes. He would bleed for that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Do you still name yourself this coward's friend?"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I have had enough of your insults. Take back your words, for I take back none of mine!" Otter's knife is in her hands now. Though her words are hot, her eyes are cool, and calculating.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I take back nothing," the man says, his voice soft now, but hard. "And I give you this." He spits, striking her in the face. Otter feels it running down, nearly freezing in the cold. "I challenge you to a fight of honor."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He mouths a curse, silently, and gets out his crossbow. Well, from what Sparrow'd already done, killing a bunch of her tribe would probably get her to come after them for revenge. One way to find her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter carefully wiped the spit from her face. She glances behind her. "Be at ease, friends. I don't fear this man, who is like a ice-monkey chucking stones he does not believe will come back to him." She winks.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He settles into a seated shooting posture, supporting his elbows with his knees, cheek just sligntly above the shaft, just far enough that its feathers wouldn't foul on him or his whiskers.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She wondered if the man were as pointlessly aggressive if seemed, or if he sought to delay them on Sparrow's behalf.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I will fight you by Blade or by Branch!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Elk glances back at the shadows occasionally. He gives Fish an imperceptible nod. Fish sees potential murder in his eyes. He says nothing.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The choice is yours, as challenged, whelp. Not that it matters."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] Nothing moves but his eyes, seeking any signs that another of them might join the fun. Stupid traditions, but it was all that was stopping a larger fight. She might lead, but this wasn't her choice, to kill one or them all.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "As you have questioned my courage, I will fight you by blade."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] It was unwise, but she did not rate him very highly, after all.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man nods shortly, to take in the crowd that has gathered around them. "Then let it be witnessed by all. I, Hand-of-Ice, have challenged. You have accepted. We shall fight."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Elk swears softly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] They wouldn't have let her in without training unless she could handle herself, no matter what connections she might have. He'd give her a chance to beat him fair, if that might end it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] But if one of them moved wrong, if Hand-of-Ice cut her, he wouldn't live long enough to regret it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I- Otter- have been insulted by Hand-of-Ice's churlish ways. I have accepted his challenge. We shall fight." She draws the steel knife the Once Dead has given her. She would not make this a killing matter, if she could avoid it. But it would be difficult. She grins.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Then so be it," the man says.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "So be it!" the onlookers roar.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Minutes pass quickly. A wise one is found to adjudicate, the long-haired, graying man known as Son-of-Hare. Perhaps this is one way of meeting him. A circle of ash is drawn around the central fire, thirty feet across, marking the boundaries of the duel. The Rabbit tribe gathers, pounding drums, chanting.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Spritely Otter had...seen some of these, at least. She licks her lips and falls into a crouch, holding her knife with the blade outward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] At one end of the circle, Hand-of-Ice strips to the waist, handing his tough leather jerkin off to his son, a boy of about twelve. His wife and brother smear him with the sigils of battle in ash and elk blood, swirls that cover his chest, cheeks, and face. Prayers to the gods of the tribe and the Haslanti, wards against carrion crow.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Elk is the only one standing near Otter. Perhaps he has become a Greenfielder after all - he offers no prayers, only advice.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "He's got an old wound on his left leg... it'll slow him, feint to that side... he's faster than he looks..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She listens carefully. She wasn't a fool. Mostly. It would be difficult to defeat him, avoiding killing him, and yet leave him unshamed in the eyes of his tribe.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Be careful," Elk finishes, his voice soft. He's seen too many of these go wrong before.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He'd had to shift his hide, the milling crowd had gotten in the way. There were trees in a greenfield that would support a man, so he was partway up one, wedged in teh crotch of an upthrusting brach, secure and steadied, ready to intervene if he was needed.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She has taken offer her outer layers and is clad only in a plain yellow shirt and leather pants. She smiles at him. "I won't make a mistake," she assures him. When she moves, the collar of her shirt opens briefly to reveal the raven's tatoo on her breast.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] The skin is still puffy around the black ink. She moves to stand challengingly in the center of the circle. "I am ready to defeat this churlish dog!" she calls out ringingly.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Hand-of-Ice turns away from his family with one last nod, stepping foward to stare at her across the fire. Seated on a hastily arranged platform of logs, the Chief-Son-of-Hare nods, signalling that the duel has begun.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter is moving in an instant. Hand-of-Ice was as fast as she had thought- she avoids his knife by dashing to the side just as Elk had said. The hand carrying the knife lashes out, hilt first, and strikes him right against the old wound. When he staggers, teeth gritted with pain, she brings her hand smoothly up, and punches him in chest, the dagger in her hand more blunt instrument than blade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She darts back a moment later, frowning when she sees she has done him no true injury. "Do you take back your words!" she shouts.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] Idiot. You challenged with a blade, use the blade.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Hand-of-Ice staggers sideways, gasping sharply at the blow, but the impact seems to do little but smear the paint symbols there. His nostrils flare.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Bitch! You shame me again!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "It is shame you brought on yourself!" Otter says, feeling an uncomfortable sinking sensation. She had lost her chance to end it quickly. She spins her blade around so that the edge faces outward.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] He moves sideways as she tries to keep the fire between them, the light flickering off of his own short blade and in his dark eyes. He sizes her up, like a cornered beast. Around them, the shouts of the tribespeople ring loud and long. None of them seem to be on her side.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Then, Hand-of-Ice feints to one side before springing OVER the fire at her, his knife slicing for her throat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter throws herself backward, leaning her head back as far as it would go. The firelight glints off the silver otter-pendant at her throat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She can feel the edge of the knife as it shaves at her throat.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] And opens it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] And then the knife twists, stabbing downward, catching in her chest. There is a loud scrape as it glances off her collarbone and digs deeper. Hot blood sprays on the snow, and the crowd roars loudly. Somewhere behind her, Elk is screaming.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Yield now and die quietly!" Hand-of-Ice screams. His arms are wet up to the elbow with her blood.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter grabs forearm holding the knife. It was...it was INSIDE her. She looks up at the churlish dog of the Rabbit, his face distorted by bloodlust. Yield and...die? No wonder Sparrow had left, if they had so little honor. She pulls her lips back and spits in his face.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He doesn't bother cursing under his breath this time. He'd told her she was green. If he killed the man now, it'd spark a riot. But he had to do something.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "You...yield..." she whispers, clambering to her feet, and glares at him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She stares at him, eyes on fire, hands still held fast around his forearm. "You will take your words back."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Don't be a fool, girl," the man says, wiping away her bloody spit. He feels braver now, having torn her in front of his fellows. "I take nothing back. Admit you are beaten, or perish."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I am not beaten until I say those words, or I am killed They were not true. There is no honor in saying what is not true and you will. Take. Them. Back."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Otter, do it!" Elk cries. "You can't win, not like this, you'll--" He should have stopped it. He should have...
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] My mother, she thinks. My father. They never yielded. Her head was light. The bloodloss, she realized.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He glances around again. If he killed an onlooker, there might be a panick, instead of a riot. He spotted a large leather icon, strung on a pole, rabbits dancing and multiplying. Holy probably, and these people believed in their symbolism. He reaimed and fired to snap the rope, careful nto to hit the pole, he didn't want anyone to be able to figure out it had been an arrow. Let them think it an omen when their icon fell
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The man takes a step back, gathering himself for a moment. "Don't be a fool, girl! Perhaps the words were ill-spoken, but the battle is done, and I am the victor. Recognize my prowess and stand down!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] The man had his pride. But then, so did she. "I will yield if you take back your words," she says. He did not yet realize, she thinks, light-headed and foolishly giddy with it. He had left his knife buried in her chest. She raises her knife.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I will take back my words if you acknowledge your defeat."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter consider this carefully. She wasn't thinking quite right, she realized. Blood seeped over the front of her shirt. She takes hold of his knife with both hands and pulls it from her chest. There's a sickening queasy painful sensation that staggers her. She licks her lip, raises it, and throws it expertly. It sinks into the ground an inch in front of his toe, with a precision that could not be mistaken, and she is
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] grateful for that.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She takes her braid, lifts it, and saws through it. She pretends to herself that it was only the pain that made her eyes sting- she was vain of her hair. It would be a reminder, she told herself. Do not be foolishly merciful. She throws her long blond braid at Hand-of-Ice's feet. It coils gently around the dagger.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He had aimed during the pause in the fight, and looses now. Whatever words were said, he hadn't noticed them, his attentioned payed to his bow and the rope. If one of them had moved to kill the other, he might have seen it to fire faster, but nothing else.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I acknowlege-" she begins, the words thick and slow in her mouth, like ashes.
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | (Ed Note: FIFTEEN SUCCESSES)
| |
| − | | |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] The soft thwack of the bowsting was lost to distance, to the mutter of the crowd. There was no light above to cast a shadow, no-one looking. The bolt passed perfectly through the rope, a mankilling bolt - tip horizontal to pass ribs, and it lined with the rope, parting it fully so that it fell with the snap of the rope, no fraying, no warning.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] The long standard fluttered as it fell, catching the air and landing in a heap in one of the main fire pits, dry leather catching almost immediately. The burning, copulating, rabbits seemed to dance.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] The totem does not burn as it should, though burn it does. Green sparks leap from the flames, and there is a loud, tortured moan. A sound like a thunderclap splits the air, and Chief Son-of-Hare, the chosen of rabbit, screams and falls senseless to the ground. SOme of the crowd race towards him, crying in alarm - others dart towards the fire and the sparking idol. Hand-of-Ice stands, staring
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] down at the braid at his feet in shock, and Otter feels Elk's hands under her arms.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] The bolt was lost in the darkness, landing far away past anyone who cared.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "We have to go," he cries, as someone else screams out, "An arrow! I saw it cut the rope!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "An arrow!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "An arrow!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter is startled into silence. She meets Hand-of-Ice's eyes across the fire, and shakes her head slowly. "Elk," she says thickly as she staggers back against him, "I think I made a mistake."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] They hobble away together.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He curses again as the cry went up. He reloaded, aiming to Otter's opponent. If he, if anyone, connected her to his shot, they would be killing her in a moment. He waits for someone to move at her, hoping they wouldn't. Soon he would ahve to give up the hide and run, but he'd see her clear first if he could.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Otter and Elk stagger away through utter pandemonium. For a wonder, no one notices them among the other crowds, but already torch-wielding Rabbit tribesmen are darting out in all directions, crying in alarm. The call is rapidly spreading to surrounding camps.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Otter..." Elk says quietly. "This is... it's really bad. I don't know if I can..."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Her blood is already covering him.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Wild-Eye," Otter says. "She knows medicine."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] A tear slip down her cheeks. Dying, she realized. She was dying. Her aunt would be so angry with her.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] As far as Fish can see, Otter and Elk are largely out of danger, at least from the crowd, but he can't say the same for himself. The Rabbit tribespeople are drawing ever closer.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He sees them get away, then looks to himself. He slides out of the tree, quickly, quietly, and hopefully unseen. He stope the bow under his coat - it'd be lumpy but would pass at a distance at night, and hurries off, trying not to be seen. Not the first time he'd had to run after making a shot. Though normally someone was dead after. He grinned - might be there was, the chief had collapsed, and besides, it had been quit
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] it had been quite a shot.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] It is not very far to Wild-Eye's hut, but it seems to take forever, and by the time the pair reach it, Otter is more lightheaded than ever. The world swims before her eyes, her blood thundering in her ears. Elk does not bother to clap - he bull rushes through the flap, and it is a wonder that the guard there doesn't spit them on his spear.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "What in the seven hells?" he asks, but Wild-Eyes is already moving.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "No time. Bring the *kaff* child here, hurry."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Her gnarled hands lay out a reed mat, dart among her spare possessions for herbs and tinctures.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Fish, meanwhile, slips through the darkened landscape ahead of his pursuers, but not far ahead.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He moves fast, heading out of into the fields of the Fort. If anyone was following, no point in leading them to wherever Otter was. Probably off with the clan theyt'd visited earlier, if she had any sense. Well, if Elk did. That wound had looked nasty, from a distance. Lot of blood.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] After a time, when he thinks no one is following, he settels ona slight rise, watching his backtrail, waiting for someone to come. The bow is out again, and waiting.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Fish waits a long time - from time to time, he sees distant torches moving back and forth, but none in his direction. They hadn't, after all, known where the shot had come from.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He grins to himself, massanging his hands, and from time to time crouching to massage his feet. It had been a while since he'd spent time on watch in the cold, but he knew how to do it.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] Meanwhile, the hard earthen floor of Wild-Eye's hut soaks up Otter's blood. The Old Woman hums a litany of prayers, working with knife and herb and thread on Otter's throat. Elk kneels by her side, gripping her hand in his own.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Fish] After a time, satisfied that he had made it without notice, he circles back into the houses. Time to find himself a warm bar, and find Elk in the morning.
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "This wound may be beyond me," the woman cautions, coughing as she works. "It may be beyond anyone."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Well you have to do something, damn it!" Elk shouts. "Otter, hold on!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter nods, gritting her teeth against the pain. Her eyes flick to Elk. "Elk," she begins, and then squeezes her eyes shut. She tries not to cry, but water brims under her eyelashes. She squeezes his hand hard. "Elk, the Fox-and-Bear can't find out how I died. You have to tell them- something else, some accident...I...I won't have a war because of my foolishness."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She looks at him through pain-bright eyes. "You have to promise me."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "Shut up! You're not going to die!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [Otter] It made her mad. She was trying so hard to be noble, and not care that she was going to die, and he wasn't listening. "You shut up! Promise me!"
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I promise," he blurts at last, "Anything, just shut up and save your strength."
| |
| − | | |
| − | [ST] "The child will not die," Wild-Eyes says dryly. "Not tonight, at least." Otter feels a horrible pulling as she finishes the last stitch and applies a compress. Somehow, the grievous wound is closed.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I- I'm going to live?" It was too amazing. She closes her eyes for a moment. "Thank you," she whispers. And then, opening her eyes and looking at Wild-Eyes pleadingly, "Don't tell my aunt?"
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| − | [Otter] She'd asked that question of Wild-Eyes before. It would be easier to die than face her aunt after such a disaster.
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| − | [ST] "I shall not. But the story shall spread regardless. You know this." The woman raps her sharply on the forehead with her knuckles. Some bedside manner.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Otter groans. "I didn't tell the Rabbit my whole name." But she had staggered, stupidly, into her ally's tent.
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| − | [Fish] "That's going to be a noticeable scar." He shoves into the tent. "She going to live?" he asks the chief gruffly, if somewhat tightly.
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| − | [ST] "Yes, despite her best intentions," Wild-Eyes responds. "Does the Rabbit tribe still search for her?"
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| − | [Fish] He shrugs. "I don't think they were looking for her." He doesn't want to talk about that much. He gives Elk a glance telling him that much. Walrus might not like Rabbit, but who knew what they'd get offended by.
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| − | [Otter] "We have to go west," Otter says sleepily. "Tomorrow."
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| − | [ST] "If we last that long," Elk says with a sigh. "At this rate..." He shakes his head, finally releasing Otter's hand and flexing his own.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] Damn it. She had done worse than Kekk. Kekk!
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| − | [Fish] He crouches down by Otter. "You are an idiot. You challenge with blades, you better use the blade. Now, if you live, if you don't get infected with rot, you're going to have a nice scar running up there, one they will be able to recognize." He taps the bandage lightly.
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He talks gruffly, looking her in the eyes. She might learn something, if she was willing to listen. He tried to make sure there wasn't an ounce of caring in his voice.
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| − | [Otter] She winces when he taps the bandage. "I'll use the blade next time," she agrees. "I was arrogant. That's why I cut my hair. So I would remember. No more stupid mercy."
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Branch next time."
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] She cheers slightly. "But I'll have a scar!"
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| − | [ST] "Just be glad there can be a next time," Elk says quietly. "And try to make sure there isn't."
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| − | [Fish] He nods. "If you mean to kill, then kill, otherwise don't get into a killing fight. And you'd best not put us in danger for some sense of your own honor again. You died, your honor should've died with you. Thats what the Raven means." He wondered if the raven had been bisected, beneath the bandage.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] It was apparently her day to be scolded. "I'll be good," she promises mildly. "And I didn't challenge him for honor. I challenged because I thought I would win, and then I could force him to help us track down Sparrow."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "A guide would be useful," Elk mentions.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Maybe he's still go for it," Otter says, thinking. "He looked ashamed. Surely he feels he needs to redeem himself."
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| − | [Otter] "Though probably we'd be better off hiring someone else," she admits.
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| − | [Fish] He snorts, leans back on his heels. Didn't seem corrigible, this one. "Sure, he needs to redeem himself for gutting you like a fish. We can talk to him tomorrow." He looks to the chief, the healer. "Will she be able to travel so soon?" He had a feeling they would have to leave her behind.
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| − | [Otter] "Of course I will," Otter says, preempting Wild-Eyes answer.
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| − | [ST] "She can travel, though she would be advised to avoid... further conflict," the woman finishes.
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] Otter's squirrel hops from Elk's shoulder to land on hers, chittering softly.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I have my javelins," Otter says cheerfully. She strokes Munroe gently.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I'll be fine. We've too far to go to chase them to delay. We will leave tomorrow."
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] "You're going to have to be careful of that. Twist hard throwing a javelin, and you could tear that open. I can't sew worth a damn, and I'm not sure Elk'll want to bother, so don't be relying on us."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "I'd bother," Elk says quietly. Then, with a chuckle, "I'd just make it worse."
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] It's on her lips to say 'I can take care of herself', but even Otter couldn't quite say it in the face of contrary evidence. She says, instead, "I know some medicine, and I'll be careful."
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| − | | |
| − | [ST] "At least Jondar and Sparrow seem to have run into as much trouble as we did." Elk says
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "I wonder why they went West. If she's pursuing her mother's killer- and I think perhaps she is- what does she know that the warparty doesn't?"
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He nods, stern, "good." He hadn't been dead long eitehr, but he'd seen his share die a second time, and he'd seen plenty of it in his old buisness. Hell the one before that. Intermittent piracy did nothing for one's lifespan. The ones who survived knew what they were about, or maybe they learned by surviving. Either way, you knew soon, or you were dead.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "We need to find this wise grandmother woman. The guild office will know."
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| − | | |
| − | [Fish] He shrugs. "Did you find out anything about how the mother died?" He hadn't noticed, hbut he couldn't have seen or heard everything.
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "Fair Folk."
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| − | [ST] "We'll check the guild office tomorrow then. As for the other... I don't know." Elk shakes his head. "Whatever we do, it'd be best to avoid a fight, I think."
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| − | | |
| − | [Otter] "We'll find a way," Otter says. "The Once Dead always do, don't they?" She crows with laughter, which ends in a squawk of pain.
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