Novels2Search

71. Mist over Straw

Quest: Explore the Vencian Wood Progress: 30% (9/30)

image [https://imgur.com/8HHYYsr.png]image [https://imgur.com/BdA77N3.png]

Current Location: ??? (S.B5)

We’d moved on from the Gackern Swallows (ew ew ew) and were definitely approaching the Kaugs. The signs were everywhere. We’d left the woods, ending up in a field of tall grass dotted with windblown trees, and thanks to a delicate mist in the waning daylight, everything had a pall of gray.

“It’ll roll up into pieces of thick fog by this evening,” Reed said, a warning. “Since we need to climb up a mountainside a little ways before we can collect the poledust, we’ll want to camp for the night. Or…I’ll want to, and I highly recommend it for you…”

The mountains loomed ever larger on the horizon.

The tallest and most erratic mountains I could imagine, coming closer, becoming more real, with every step.

Fog may have been taking its time with us, but it had already coiled around the mountains’ feet, and even from this far away, we could see it writhing.

But between us and the mountains was this windy passage of plains, and its animals were very much awake.

Unlike the other stretch of plains I’d seen in the western half of the Vencian Woods, I couldn’t see any watering holes. But we didn’t go through the grass, which as so tall and fuzzy that we would have to wade it came up to Reed’s waist and my…nothing. Why did I even continue that sentence?). We cut through the grass only to make it to the road.

There were roads here? For once??

Well, it was a path, or unpaved, made by nothing but earth-flattening and grass-cutting. Near the start of it was a donut around an old rock well. A cluster of goldfinches was hopping and tweeting around the well’s rim, with an occasional jump inside and a splash.

“DeGalle’s crew has definitely been here,” Reed said, wrinkling her nose. “It’s obvious to you too, right? These footprints, the paper cups here on the ground, and…” She sniffed hard. “There was smoke here.”

Yep, Reed was pointing out all the things I’d already observed. Especially the flattened and char-tinged patch of ground where they must have cooked their latest meal. Here and there in the thick grass were scraps of the goat or sheep they’d eaten.

“Let’s take a rest and then move on.”

“Meow!” I said heartily, right before jumping onto the edge of the well and scattering all the frightened birds. I made it in a single bound, without my hind legs having to scrabble up the edge! That pleased me. Those Stat gains were making a difference even in these kinds of day-to-day actions.

Taking a drink was another matter. This well didn’t have a hanging bucket or any apparatus whatsoever for bringing up the water. I guessed humans were expected to bring their own?

The water’s surface, dark and shining like a plane of onyx, was too far both for my body and for human hands.

Reed’s finger poked at my shoulder. “Sorry if I’m interrupting another willful challenge, but…there’s a pump over there. It might be easier.”

I swiveled my head. Ah. Now that I had a better vantage point and could see over the relentless grass, I saw the top of a pump. If one person worked the lever, water would come up from the vein it tapped, sliding down the chute. It was supposed to clang into a bucket, but today it was going right into my mouth.

She asked, and I gave the okay. I expected a gentle stream to arc toward me—maybe splatter my head on accident for a moment, but I’d recover. Instead, my uvula was slammed by a watery bullet.

HP 95% (397/420)

It had no right to be that vigorous! Uh, maybe the problem was that my uvula had no right to stand right under it…but whatever, the pump didn’t come with instructions, and I was only using common sense!

Reed stopped in a panic, which I considered an overreaction. My skull had been shoved close to the ground, not onto it. “Are you okay?!” she cried.

“Mreaow!” I said, swinging back to position. Meaning, Keep it going like your life depends on it!!

“Are you sure about this? I mean, I can just…or maybe you can just…”

Oh yeah. She was right! She could have just or I could just! Uh, I mean, she could’ve cupped the water in her own hands, and I could’ve Morphed. That made more sense.

Without a moment’s hesitation, and with a cloud of smoke that soon melted into the general mist, I changed forms.

Then I squatted and held my mouth immediately below the—just kidding, I cupped my hands. Though doing this made me feel a bit defeated and cowed.

This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Now Reed was more than happy to dole out the water, one handful at a time. I had my fill. It was a big relief after involuntarily drinking all of that gross filmy swamp juice with the gackern fight. It had an interesting finish, too, very mineral and oddly bright.

We switched places and I worked the pump for Reed. Then I helped her refill her canteen, plus a spare.

…That thing was looking good right about now.

Since we had a lot of adventuring left to go and, potentially, not a lot of water sources.

I pointed a finger at the water Reed was drinking and made my best attempt at an interrogative “meow.”

She gulped it down before saying, “Huh? Oh, yes, there’s more water pumps along the way. Hopefully well maintained. And there’s a small river running through the Kaugs, if you’d rather have that.”

I pointed at the canteen she was still holding and made my best attempt at an interrogative “meow” plus endearing, pleading eyes.

Her expression lightened. “You would like to drink water even more frequently than at the pumps! I’m so relieved. You have no idea—I worry sometimes… Of course you can take this.” She handed me the canteen. It felt good in my hand, strong from the hide and frame it was made from.

I really wanted to drop it in my Inventory, but…I had crammed it with items both useful and useless (except in case of emergency, like a sudden dragon’s descent). The sword didn’t have a scabbard, and Chora’s Crystal Ring could fall off if something sliced it off its anklet. Theoretically, I could put these objects in a burlap sack (if Reed brought one), but…you don’t have time to be rummaging around in a sack in an emergency.

And wouldn’t Spells put together in a burlap sack just activate on and destroy each other? If any trick like that to Inventorizing them actually worked, Reed—the human with years of experience using them—would’ve done it before me.

Ah, whatever. All this is to say I settled for briefly swapping out Chora’s Crystal Ring for the canteen, just to see what the description said.

Reed’s Canteen

A cowhide bottle currently filled with water from the plain you are currently standing in. You will feel like a fool if you lose this.

I don’t need Inventory descriptions to make me look like a fool. I do it myself every day!

Reed made me look foolish too, honestly. When I thought she was a coward, she was really acting reasonably for a Level-less being, and poised to give advice and fiery sniping…and now she offered me water from responsible sources while I wanted to massacre my throat and dive headfirst into a well.

Enough about me and my pathetic Intelligence Stat. The road awaited! I begrudgingly nudged Reed’s canteen back to her, and we went on our way.

It was hard to believe, given the view ahead, that we were still in the Vencian Wood. If it weren’t for the trees bordering this expanse far to north and south, lurking on the edges of our vision, I would’ve assumed we’d disappeared and suddenly materialized miles and miles off.

As we continued down the path, we passed more non-foresty wonders. Bristly blossoms in purples, blues, and standout dabs of yellow. Trees, rare and crisp, with leaves that looked more like hanging twine. What would happen to these dry plants when the mist rolled in?

I was getting antsy about fighting. And yet I was antsy about avoiding fighting. My mind was really torn, only partially recovered from the oddly traumatic gackern fight. One part of me wanted to relax. But another—the ego, I guessed—wanted to fight for the purposes of getting stronger. And my deepest and wildest id just liked the meat and carnage.

Even though I had a chronic problem with sizing up my prey, and even our Spell supplies were limited…when we neared an armadillo waddling quietly by, an image instantly flashed in my head: me flopping them over and clawing out their soft, squishy intestines.

Reed caught my eyes lingering on the armadillo. Misinterpreting my meaning completely, she said, “That one’s called an armadillo.”

“Mreaow…”

Enough was enough. I stopped in my tracks.

Reed stopped too. “What is it?”

I, uh…um…ugh, there was nothing else for it. No stream of meows, maows, and paw-waving could communicate this accurately. Possibly not even words could do it!

I had to transform and speak, even though it’d take about a million years and I’d be cringing inwardly every second.

Poof!

Yet now that I was standing here on two fidgety legs, my mind had turned to total mush.

I pounded a fist into a palm. Between mountains of stutters, I eked out a “want…fight…”

Hmm. Not quite what I wanted to say either.

She came close enough that I could see the sympathetic pity in her eyes. It rankled what pride I still had.

“I have my own philosophy on fighting,” Reed said, “and, well…I shouldn’t expect you to share it. I’ll kill for food or resources, and I love using any talents I have to help people, but otherwise, I don’t like to. The older I get, the more I…start to hate it. I don’t even like battling the way I did as a kid, unless it’s just sparring.” She scratched the back of her neck. “I guess I’m weak.”

I gazed into eyes that looked like they might with tears. What she hadn’t said, and hadn’t needed to say, was how pathetic she felt not managing to help me these past two encounters.

Reed, I wanted to say, of course that makes you weak in the animalistic, survival-of-the-fittest sense. But you’re a human, and I thought they were supposed to have that sorted out…so I don’t think those animal norms apply anymore? Correct me if I’m wrong.

This was exactly why I needed that speech cantrip ASAP.

But I did, over the course of ten seconds, manage to choke out words resembling, “You’re fine.”

Was compromise what she wanted? Sure, limiting my path of destruction would be okay. It’d also encourage me to size up my foes more actively, more accurately.

“If we’re going to spend any time together, I just need to accept this about you,” Reed said. “I promise I’ll defend you—I’ll even fight by your side. I’ll quit running away.” She sniffed. “Now, go fight that armadillo. They taste really good.”

Did she mean that? Or was she mainly being polite?

I felt a bit awkward about taking her at her word, since she didn’t seem totally happy about this conclusion. But maybe I was reading her a little wrong. And maybe, with me being a cat and/or spirit, she knew she couldn’t expect me to read human emotions or human irony perfectly. We really were both learning.

I buried our faces in a quick, tight hug.

As I wondered if wiping her eyes would be the perfect move or a step too far, I heard rustling. I turned away from Reed and faced the armadillo, which was ever so slowly waddling into the grass. The quarry was getting away…

But there was something more, bigger and fiercer and yet possible to take down.

Right behind the armadillo, a hulking and picturesque silhouette against the fading daylight, was a bull.

They had just finished chewing up some grass. Their raised neck, head, and clothesline horns looked downright panoramic. And they seemed to be paying us no mind.

With hardly a second thought, I repositioned Reed so that she was shoulder to shoulder with me. We were both facing the bull, and she had brought out a sword and I my claws.

Then I tapped her sword with my kneecap and gave her a serious look, eyes gazing from under my tilted head.

You are fine the way you are, I was saying, but if you think you’re weak, let’s change that. If you promise to fight by my side, let’s prove it.

I changed back into cat form, the way I was most comfortable fighting.

Here is some rawhide and we’re gonna eat it.