Separation
“Can we go a little faster?”
Her mount was tired now, and had a good deal of pain running through his body. Fawn sat back and held her stomach with one hand.
I hope Dusty Snuffles taste ok ...
Her mind turned to the strips of meat she still had. The thought of having to eat something that she had no desire to kill was disquieting, but starvation was a gripping motivator.
The small soft patch behind the Veil’s ear moved. He picked up speed.
“Oh, thank you. I’m sure you understand me sometimes. Still don’t know why though.”
Maybe in time she would be able to communicate more specific things with him. The idea was encouraging, and a comfort she needed more of. They made their way through the maze of tunnels with no further threats. The Slinkworms seemed to keep to the Plains’ side of the passage. Fawn was relieved.
Before long they passed over the wall separating their retreat from the rest of the cavern network. A familiar smell—good and bad—came from the space.
After they came down from the wall, the Veil took them both over to the pool, and lay down to water himself. Fawn leaned forward and slid off him to do the same. A large hand stopped her.
“Why?”
He kept drinking while holding her back. Once he finished, he collected the moss that he had gathered for Fawn. He gave her the moss and retreated quietly to his corner.
“But why ... ?”
She looked into the strange, silver-colored water wondering why she was prevented from drinking it, and moved closer. As she stared at the water she saw the blood and bone remnants from the Veil’s jaws disperse, and slowly degrade into dissolution.
“What? But I swam and washed in there.”
She watched as the final fragments dissolved.
She dipped her foot part way into the water and flinched, half expecting it to dissolve as well.
There was no such reaction. She withdrew her little foot—clean, cool and unharmed.
Puzzled, she sat back at the edge of the pool, enrobed her moss in cloth, and drank the cooling result.
She dropped a small piece of the fiber sheet she had brought from the Plains tree into the pool. It plumped with moisture almost immediately, then shed it all once she lifted it from the pool. She watched as the dust and dirt fell from the fiber along with all of the water.
Cleaner and feeling somewhat at home, she curled against the wall to rest.
Fawn awoke with a hunger that could destroy the hope of a grown man. She looked around the Veil’s retreat, and saw he was still at rest, a hulking organic boulder, barely discernibly alive.
She stood up and made for the strips of meat she had brought back. The Veil watched her pick them up and bring them to her mouth, hesitating. He warned her off audibly, causing her to drop her hand to her side.
“I’m so hungry!”
She complained bitterly, with tears building in her eyes, the smell of the raw meat turning her stomach, already nauseous with hunger.
“I need to cook it. Oil Brush. I need Oil Brush ... can you take me?”
She made her way over to the entrance wall.
“Help. I need to eat!”
Desperation was mounting in her voice, tears in her eyes. The Veil went to the retreat wall, slowly, and in pain. He gathered her up and climbed the wall making his way out to where he had found her.
“I know where we are now.”
She felt a surge of motivation, almost dismounting before he stopped. As soon as he lay down, she jumped off, collected her claw and meat, and headed for the opening.
“Will you still be here when I come back?”
She stopped, and looked back at him hopefully, then turned away and made her way through, to the outer entrance way.
As soon as she hit the sunlight, her doubts grew again, and she went back through to see if he was still waiting.
Will he stay close?
The thought of being without him was terrifying. As she got back inside she saw him, sitting in the cold of the cavern like nothing had changed.
“Mmmrrrmmmrrr.”
His sound bounced around, echoing a sound that Fawn had come to know as comfort.
Reassured, she left the cavern, passed through to the outer cave and carried on out. Scaling down the cliffside, she quickly found several Oil Brush plants. Gathering them was easy, the claw sliced through the wood like soft flesh.
After a short time, she had what she wanted, enough to start many fires. Next, she sought some basic wood from larger bushes. She knew little of cooking fires but this part had come to make sense to her. How much wood to use, and what to do next, was all going to have to be worked out as she went.
Climbing back up to the entrance cave proved harder than usual, she was feeling real exhaustion. She made it to the cave, and sat in the corner to make what she could of a fire.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
It was easy enough to curl the Oil Brush and strike it the way she had been taught. The new challenge for her was making a fire big enough to feed herself. She started with a small burn.
I think this is right.
She kept hoping she knew what to do as the flames gained voracity.
The little fire made her think of home for a moment. Looking into the flames, she felt the memories gathering. For the first time, she felt the weight of possibility. Like a stone rolling just out of reach, the thoughts of why and what if, took their toll. She knew in her heart that what she had done was survive, but it felt ... so heavy.
What if I just hadn’t changed my dress?
Sorrow came quickly as she thought about her actions.
I ... I’m the reason I’m all alone.
The idea that she was the cause of her own misery was too much for a child.
Feeling morbid and awfully solitary, she took up some of the meat strips, began placing them on the fire and sat back. She reached into the flames with a piece of stalagmite. The meat she withdrew showed no sign of being cooked properly.
“Even I know that’s no good.”
A deep frown set into her forehead as she remembered Ikan placing food across two stones once when she was small.
“Oh, I know.”
She collected two or three flat stones from the cave. Placing them directly on the fire, she nearly demolished it.
“No! ... ”
She was getting more frantic than thoughtful, hunger getting the best of her. Propping up one side of the flat stone, she kept the fire burning. A couple of strips sat easily on the sloped stone, the remaining moisture keeping them in place.
She stood and went further into the cave, checking to make sure she was still without human company, but not yet entirely abandoned. The Veil sat calmly looking up at her as she came in. It was as though he had expected her at exactly that moment. With a sense of relief, she walked to him. Her fear had abated now. She was at peace in his company.
“Why do you protect me?”
His silent reactions to her questions had come to feel like reassurance.
“Why ... me? And why still?”
She felt his presence and knew he was listening: if only because he had little else to do, but she felt calmed all the same.
Satisfied that he was going to wait, she went back to her cooking fire, which was more of a hot ember than a functioning fire. The first meat she had placed down was burnt. She ate it all the same: it was at least food.
“Blah, that’s ... really bad.”
Its flavor was that of dirt and blood, little else was discernible. Regardless though, it had the charm of being the first food she had eaten in days. Lamenting the relatively flavorsome dried meats she had stolen, she sat back down and prepared more.
Maybe I can do something to make this ... less terrible.
But there was little information in her young mind as to how that was possible. She struggled to remember anything else that was wild and edible.
“I miss you Ikan, you always knew how to make food from anything.”
Muttering to herself was as close to conversation with her passed brother as she was going to get. The memory of him making her food, whenever he could, was such a happy one that it made her smile for a moment.
“What would he say now? Probably: ‘You can’t eat that Baby Fawn, that’s not food.’ Like he used to when I ate nothing but Sweet Stars ... ”
Her head fell downward.
“I miss you so ... ”
With tears in her eyes, she reached for another strip of dark, earthen meat.
“I miss you both so much.”
Tears poured down her face. She could no longer make out her food. She curled on the floor.
“I miss food. I miss gentle words. I miss cuddles ... ohh … ”
She sucked air through lips drenched in tears.
“I have no one ... and nothing.”
Her sobbing reached a loud, torn note of hopelessness.
The Veil moved himself to her back and lay behind her. She turned, curled herself into his flank, and cried like there was no life left in her. Once her eyes were dry and her hands wet, she fell into a deep sleep—wrapped closely by her Warden.
A small ray of light strobed across her eyes, shaking her from her dreams. Stretching and looking around, she felt more rested than she had in a while. Her feeling of calm was quickly taken as she realized she was alone. The Veil had gone at some point, leaving behind some gathered Moisture Moss for her.
“What? ... Where? ... ”
She rose quickly, looking around her, heart sinking.
“Why did he leave?”
Running quickly around the cave, she felt panic starting to build. He was definitely gone, and had left no sign of why.
“Oh no ... ”
She crumpled to the floor holding her knees, tears starting to gather again. Feeling suddenly more alone than ever, her lower lip slid out, catching tears.
“I didn’t think he ... would just go.”
The idea was daunting. He had rescued her from such horrors and so she knew how terrible the threats could be. Now all she had was a deeper fear, and no protector.
As her fear intensified, there came a moment when she almost gave in. Breathing too quickly, she felt herself lose touch with her courage.
“I can’t be alone again, can I?”
Having company had made her last few days almost bearable. Now, the feeling of loneliness was far heavier than ever before. She soon understood that if she was alone again she would need a way to stop starving every day.
The idea of going back to the Village was awful: she felt like there was nothing good to be had there. But she had no better ideas. Traversing the caves on her own was not an option.
She gathered the moss the Veil had cut for her and extracted enough water to go with her dry, burnt meat from the night before.
After some time chewing her poor food, she began to understand that there may be no other way. Gathering what was left of her provisions, she shook the dust from her hair and made her way outside to get back to the Village. She needed to learn more about how to get by on her own: the limit of her skills was quickly going to be her undoing.
“There’s only one way to know ... what to do.”
She began down the cliff face with her usual skill and coordination. Moving during the day was not normally something that she would risk, but there was a need to learn how to cope with that too. As the dust and stone passed under her feet, there was more resolve building in her mind.
If I’m going to end up on my own, I don’t want to be scared all the time.
Having to look after herself seemed less impossible than before.
With her courage improving she carried on, looking out over the orange and brown land that she had seen all her life, but never understood. There was much more here than she ever thought possible, reaching beyond the dust cloud of her childhood.
She thought about the animals she had seen and wondered whether others knew of them. There was a strange notion to the feeling that she may well be the only one who had ever seen them.
Maybe I am the first to name the Dusty Snuffles.
A glimmer of pride took hold in her mind.
But ... what do the Ohuns bring back to the Village then?
This idea was confusing. She had never seen what it was that they hunted, or if it was a little brown snuffling thing. The families were only allotted a limited amount of the fresh collected food, based on their contributions to the Village. Her family was rarely in the position to get any, as her mother had never truly contributed, and the hard work of her brothers was only ever considered an expectation. Of course, the method by which it was decided who got what was not entirely fair.
As she walked along in the dust, staying mostly away from any paths, she found herself more and more attuned to the dirt, and the wild land.
Fawn had never really felt like she was truly a part of the Village. She had not really felt as though she even had a great deal in common with other humans, and it was nice to feel a little closer to something: even if it was just the dust she walked on. Acting differently and feeling unusual were things she had become accustomed to, but actually being different—that was a new possibility.
The concept took her thoughts around and around, soaking up all her grief and trouble for a time. The break was welcome.
Sitting down to lean against a rock and pull cloth over her head, like a simple hood, gave her a quiet moment. She drew some water from the moss in her bag and ate some of the poor food she had managed to prepare. The food and water were welcome regardless of their low standard: there was motivation in their murky flavor. Slowly wearing down the coarse sustenance, she let her mind wander.
Why are there none of those huge tree things here?
Trees were something she had been taught of, but not seen. Looking out as far as she could across the dust and beyond the Village, she couldn’t understand why people stopped here.
–Garrick M Lynch–