The Plains

There was an entirely separated land beyond what had always just appeared as rocky cliffs, it was a revelation to Fawn. She had never even heard stories about anyone making a journey through to somewhere else.

Gazing out into the distance was a truly surreal experience. As she came to terms with the vista of this new, vast world, she brought herself back to the moment, and began to take notice of the details she could see.

There were small animals roaming around the stubby plant life. They were no taller than her knees, with four very short legs. They were light brown and covered in wrinkled skin with small, hooded eyes and long teeth.

She could never have imagined such a creature. They moved in small groups of three or four and burrowed in and out of the dusty ground periodically. They seemed to gather something from their burrowing, which looked from where she was, like the roots of a small bush, only there was no evidence of any shrubs above ground.

Looking up from the strange, brown, little animals she started to realize there were enormous plants ahead of her. Yet another thing she had thought impossible.

These remarkable trees were immense towering trunks of pale timber with no bark. Some were taller than even the Tower in her home Village, which had been the tallest thing she had known, until now. Standing far taller than she imagined anything could be, she found an exhilaration in observing these massive plants. All plants where she grew up were small and dense, like the Oil Brush.

Looking at some of the shorter, younger ones, she was able to see the design of the tops, a skeletal frame that had exploded into frayed threads, with sail-like white webbing connecting the long, thin branches.

The more densely layered examples looked as though they would provide some shelter from the sun during its higher points, but it was hard to know if that would be true during the dusk light.

Fawn drew great breaths and let her body relax a bit. It had been some time since she felt a deep breath would bring something other than a strong odor of death, and the change was almost enough to make her smile.

Walking steadily, the Veil was covering ground easily and it seemed to be relieved to be in a different space as well.

A little indignation toned her voice.

“What are we doing here? I’m still hungry, you know.”

The Veil made no noise of response and simply carried on its way.

“My legs are so tired. Please stop.”

This time she had an effect on the creature. As it strode along, it slowed and turned its head slightly.

“Please. I need a break.”

There was pain in her voice as she implored understanding. The Veil seemed to understand. It stopped and dropped its hind quarters.

“Oh but—”

Before she could make any protest, she slid down its back and onto the ground with a thud.

“Ow, you could have helped me off.”

A lot more misery rolled out in her voice than was necessary for a simple bump on the ground. She felt the pressure of the simple impact overwhelm all her controls and began to cry. There was no more tolerance left in her for hunger, fear, terrifying noise or bruises.

The Veil turned slowly to where she had fallen and curled its tail around her.

“Mmmrrrmmmmrr.”

It rumbled a sound that slowly dropped in pitch, and turned its head to look at her.

After a moment she stood up.

“I’m ok. I’m just so hungry now.”

She leaned forward rubbing her stomach. The noise it made from constant hunger was loud enough to echo in an empty space.

The Veil motioned its hand, tapping the ground and looking at her for a sign of understanding. There was none as she looked back at it.

“Umm what do you want me to do?”

She moved to where the big, clawed hand was. It lifted its arm and slowly placed the underside of its thumb on her shoulder. It felt heavy on her small frame and the claw, though pointed away from her, was close to her face.

The Veil tapped its thumb on her shoulder and pressed down. It weighed so much she immediately fell to her knees. The Veil lifted its hand and tapped again on the ground, very slowly but with clear determination.

“I’m on the ground.”

She spoke with fear in her voice.

“What—”

It tapped again on the ground.

“I need to ... lie down?”

There was more fear in her voice now. It had never forced her to do anything before and this time it seemed so intent on her lying down.

Once she was lying in the dust, and it was satisfied she was going to stay there, the Veil stood up and started looking around. It seemed to find something after a short moment, and began to move away from where they were, off toward whatever it saw.

“Don’t ... go! I’m scared.”

The Veil came back and tapped again on the ground.

“Mmmrrrmmmrrr.”

She lay back down in the dust.

Walking away again, the Veil made its way toward what it saw, stopping to crouch and sniff the air occasionally. After a few more strides it came into proximity of a small group of the odd little burrowing animals.

Looking at the small group of digging and scurrying animals, the Veil made its way toward them.

There was an innate stealth to the movements it made regardless of any particular situation, but this time it was a focused, specific type of movement. It slid across the ground like water, steadily lifting its feet and hands in the most specific way so as not to stir dust or make any noise. Its subtle shadow kept hidden from the prey as it chose its angle of approach perfectly.

Coming close to the herd, it curled itself against the ground prone, and poised deathly still, as the small animals moved back and forth.

With an explosion from the ground, the predator leaped straight up, forcing its massive frame into the air with ease, leaving a sound of scuffed dirt and dust cloud behind it.

As the pack of animals ran frightened from the disturbance, it landed on one of the first to scurry away.

It came down on the small animal from such a height, and with such weight, that the use of claws might be extraneous next to the mass that could have crushed it like an insect. The Veil had no intentions of landing so crudely, however. It came down around the animal and pierced its skull with one swift strike of its forefinger. The small animal was dead before it fell.

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Fawn could hear the scuffle going on some distance from her, but she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and see what was making all the noise. Lying still, she heard the noises stop, and then the pattering of the herd as they traveled away.

She kept her breath slow and quiet so she could listen more intently. All she was doing was waiting to learn what was coming. People made noise, animals made noise, but there was never any accidental sound from the Veil. She felt sure that if she could focus enough, she would be able to perceive the sound that it made coming back.

There has to be some kind of noise—

She felt the presence of mass behind her.

“Whoa!”

She was taken aback by how often this had happened.

“I think I see where you got your name. One day I’ll figure out how to hear you coming.”

The Veil dropped its quarry on the dirt next to her. As the carcass hit the ground it slumped down, dripping blood into the dust.

“What’s that?”

Forgetting that her companion was not able to answer her questions was becoming common place.

“But what can I do with that? I ... I don’t know how to ... ”

The Veil collected the small animal and took it away from where Fawn was sitting. It then picked it up by the back of its head, and sliced it along the spine.

Splitting the spine itself in half and pulling open the carcass, it revealed all the intestines from the top down. Once it carefully separated the internal organs from the attached flesh it inverted the body, dumping all of the entrails on the ground in a steaming heap.

“Oh ergh, more terrible smells.”

Fawn could feel the reaction in her body: the foul odor permeating her far more than she hoped.

“Why does everything smell SO bad?”

She looked down at the heap of intestines on the ground.

“Can’t something just smell nice for a change?”

She went to where the Veil was now removing the bones from the carcass. The sound brought her back to the first time she saw it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sound.”

She stifled a gag reflex and looked to the Veil for information.

Pulling the bones from the lifeless creature, the Veil was sitting and eating like any other animal might. Once it had finished with a portion of the forequarters, it cut through the animal and passed the now gutted and fileted piece toward Fawn, dropping it in front of her.

“I can’t eat it like this. I need to cook it or something.”

Looking around her new environment, it was hard to imagine what she could build a fire with.

The Veil went over to where she was and dragged the meat closer to her.

“Yes, thank you, but I can’t eat it yet.”

She bent down and pulled at part of the animal. Lifting it up to her mouth, she wrinkled her nose and recoiled from the bloody flesh.

The Veil peeled its mouth downward and rolled its teeth together, as if in general disapproval aimed at an infant.

Fawn reached to where she had secured her claw on its back to retrieve it and began attempting to cut up the meat. The claw made the cuts easily, but the pelt meant that she was constantly adding fur to the pieces. Having so little information on how to prepare food, much less butchering, all she was certain of was that her hunger was mounting fast—while her food was not.

“Oh, how do I skin this? ... ”

The strain was beginning to get the better of her as she pulled at the skin, struggling to separate it from the fresh carcass. She had no understanding of how it could be done.

Finally, she sat back from the strips she had cut, and curled her feet under her.

“I don’t know what I’m doing. I’m going to starve to death.”

Her strained voice started to irk the Veil and it looked in her direction. Beginning to understand that she was frustrated, it watched her more closely than before.

Fawn picked up another piece of the cut flesh and began frantically pulling on the skin, then frustrated, she threw it on the ground.

Watching her struggle was not what the Veil intended, and its tail started flicking to and fro, scraping the dirt around it. Leaning forward, it gathered some of the strips of meat that she had managed to successfully cut and pulled at them, shredding the pieces.

“No, No, No. That doesn’t help.”

She took the pieces back and stood on one end trying to pull the skin from the strip, still to no effect. While she was so intent on pulling at the skin, the Veil began to comprehend what it was that she was trying to accomplish. It pushed her from the carcass and gathered it off the ground.

Before she could get herself up again, it had passed one of its claws along the length of the piece, easily stripping the flesh from the skin.

“Yay! Thank you.”

Her youth crept through as she bounced on the spot, a smile across her face.

The Veil didn’t know what she was saying but it seemed to grasp her shift in mood accurately. It handed her the skin.

“Haha, no.”

She reached for the flesh that had fallen from the Veil's hand then jumped as she felt how squishy and warm it was.

“Ew, that’s ... ew.”

She dropped it, gathered herself and picked it up again.

“Now all I need to figure out is how to prepare it.”

She looked at the Veil shaking her soon-to-be meal clear of dust.

“Do you know how to light a fire?”

Her question to her assistant butcher yielded the usual ... no response.

She turned her focus from the muted creature, and out to the world around her.

There was no evidence of any shrubs or small sticks anywhere, so the prospect of starting a fire was going to be difficult. There was no knowledge in her young mind on how one starts a cooking fire without Oil Brush. She had always known it to be the source of household fire.

Oil Brush had the unusual property of igniting itself when put under sufficient pressure. Consequently, all she knew about fire was to press the brush between stones hard until it caught alight. In this circumstance, the concept of setting alight to anything was as distant a notion for her as it was for her ancient ancestors who had yet to discover its existence.

The pale, bone-like trees that sporadically covered the expansive Plains varied in height and diameter wildly, with the tallest ones big enough that it was hard to see the tops, while the younger ones were around the same height as a single-storey home from the Village. The occasional small roaming herds of ground grazers were happily wandering around, taking their time and behaving like nothing was ever going to cause them any trouble.

There were random patches of tussock that gathered most frequently around the base of the taller trees, but precious little otherwise.

In the darkening sky, small flocks of leather-winged creatures followed the orange-toned clouds as they cast their drifter’s shadow across the land. Some would land on the taller trees and gather together, before launching off the branches to dive at the ground from time to time.

Off in the distance there was evidence of windstorms turning the horizon an ashen red, brown and yellow.

Fawn walked over to one of the bare, pale tree trunks and looked closely at it to see if she could find anything like a hook or spike.

Maybe I can just dry this.

She wrapped a strip of the meat around the tree trunk, hooking it onto whichever pieces of ragged wood that she thought would catch it and hold it.

After doing her best to attach it to the tree trunk, she stood back, but it insisted on sliding down the trunk. The surface was just too smooth for the meat to take hold.

All she had done was coat a small portion of the enormous trunk in blood, covered her would-be food in dust, and gotten herself even more hungry. She gritted her teeth and scratched her fingers down her face.

She threw the now dry, dusty, disheveled meat on the ground, stamping on it, and twisting her foot. She stood still for a moment.

Slowly, she allowed resolution to replace frustration.

I’m going to have to find some Oil Brush back on the other side.

“Please help me skin the rest of this.”

She struggled to hold up the fileted carcass of the animal.

“I ... I can’t do it ... by ... myself.”

Seeing the effort she was putting into holding the body up, the Veil reached out and took it from her. It now had a better understanding of what she needed.

It separated the skin from the flesh just as easily as it had the first time, and once it had, it passed its claws through the remaining meat, cutting it into strips much as it had seen her do with the cloth.

“Thank you.”

She gathered all the strips and began bundling them into some of the surplus cloth she had brought with her, tying it behind her back like a package prepared by a hunter ready for travel.

Once she had tied it to her back and secured it in such a way that she felt confident it would stay there and be there when she needed it, she turned her attention to the Veil.

“I need a name for you, what can it be? ... You’re so quiet. I know the others call you Veil, and I see why, but you’re not the same for me.”

She began to stroke her hand along his arm.

“For me you’re like a scary gray ... guard, but that’s too long.”

She reached up toward its shoulder with her small, soft fingers. Its head dropped down toward her.

“Mmmrrrmmmrrr.”

It rumbled its approval. There was a new type of bond beginning to form between them.

As she got closer to its face she came to stand right under its chin.

“Mmmrrrmmmrrr.”

“I’m sorry I can’t do anything for you. I ask everything of you, and I can’t do anything for you ... maybe one day I will be able to.”

While she stood under its chin, it started to fold itself down, bringing its head closer to the ground. It crouched and lowered its head—she could reach the front of its face and its eyes for the first time.

She was the closest she had been to the Veil’s eyes, and even in the failing light, she was able to make out more than before. She reached her hand slowly up towards its eye and it sat still, letting her make contact with its upper eyelid. It was smooth and much softer than the rest of the creature. She passed her hand over it, making a noise to try and convey her affection.

“Mmmmhmm.”

It responded in kind.

“Mmmrrrmmmrrr.”

Petting its eye slowly, she came back to the idea.

“I need a name for you. I wish you could tell me what to call you. I guess it would be a noise I can’t make anyway.”

The evening had moved on and was almost entirely gone now, and although she had finally collected the raw basis for food, she was still running on empty. As the light dissolved, so did her focus and energy.

The child curled herself under the chin of her unnamed protector, and for the first time since she escaped all the threats of the Village, she settled in and let the sleep of calm take her from the trials of her life.

The Veil wrapped around her and kept watch as its little Ward rested well.

–Garrick M Lynch–