"Hey, what's up everyone!!! Coming at you live with a special installment of 'Tantoo's Travels!' Now, cameras might be out, not a phone or go-pro working, but that doesn't mean we can't improvise, now does it. Pen and paper still good, and a crowd's all I need to get revved up and raring to share survival tips, wilderness factoids, and all sorts of other sagely advice from yours truly about the great outdoors. So, tell me, anything you wanna ask before I get going, or do you wanna shoot ol' Tantoo a request instead. Tickers counting down to our departure, so raise your hands now and I'll try to get to as many of you as I can until it's time to say 'ekosi-maka'"

The gathered children showed more restraint than either Clarice or Blake could've expected. She wasn't sure if they were all still reeling from having survived a plane crash, or if they were just star struck by a genuine in-the-flesh 'influencer'. Of course she didn't believe for a second that a single one of the starry eyed children currently waving their raised arms for attention had actually heard of Tantoo before today. Yet that didn't change the infectious enthusiasm he'd been able to light in each one of their curious little hearts.

Honestly, she admired the wide kindly smile and quick witted answers he managed to shoot off with nary a second thought to delight and educate the gathered younglings. His voice was compassionate, his patience seemingly endless, and she sure believed he knew what the heck he was talking about.

All that said, she'd appreciate it more if he hadn't put her and Blake on scribe duty.

"Go along with it," Kaleb had asked them when the pair were approached for the role, "we can look through what he says to confirm he's on the level afterwards. Plus, it should certainly help keep the children in high spirits. The last thing any of us need is losing sleep to the unforeseeable tantrums of traumatized children."

"Yes, you there, tall girl with the fuzzy hair. What's your question for ol' Tantoo?" He called out to one in the far back, a glum looking lass with a bandaged eye and trembling arm, who instantly seemed to regain some color in her pale face after being picked.

"Um… I… I wanna know what… I mean… What can… um…"

"Don't rush yourself. Breathe in deeply, in and out, like the calming rhythm of a fresh flowing stream. Now, gather your thoughts, feel them in your heart, and share them when you're ready…"

A scant few seconds passed before she seemed to settle, as if by magic. She cleared his throat and, clearly and concisely, gave her question to the entertainer before her.

"What do you do if you get bitten by a Rattlesnake?"

"Oh… a Rattlesnake eh… good question, I once got a nip on the leg from a rattlesnake while out hiking with my grandpa down in the southwest of Saskatchewan. Small one, yet, the pain was big, let me tell you that! Oh, I'll never forget how my Grandpa rushed in to action to make sure I'd see another day. His words to me were simple yet effective, the mantra of survivalists worldwide if you ask ol' Tantoo; first you relax, slow your heart, so the venom don't beat too fast through your heart. Second, you lie on your back so shock don't make you fall and crack your head on a rock. No, gotta keep stable, keep calm, and keep centered. Keep in mind though, don't raise the bite above your heart, the bad stuff'll flow down to it quicker like that, and you don't want that, now do you? So, once you're stable and centered, then you move onto the third step of how to deal with the bite, which is, well, dealing with the bite! Make sure to mark where the snake bit you if you can. If you can't then just skip to this next part, okay. What is the next part? Well, you clean it as best as you can, bandage it, and apply whatever medicine you have as soon as you can, or go get help so someone else can do it for you."

"So… you can't cure it yourself?"

"Afraid not, little girl. Venoms are a tricky thing see. A wolf bite you can stitch up, a bone broken from a falling tree you can set with a splint, if you're blinded you can use your remaining senses and a walking stick to try to navigate through the wilds... but venom? Venom, poison too, are scary because there's nothing you can do unless you've got its counter in your medicine bag. Now, lucky me, my grandpa was a real medicine man. He came prepared with every remedy you could think of and then some. I can't remember what exactly he gave me since I'd passed out real quick after getting bit, but I can tell you that the stuff saved my life. Now we got some great folks here working on medicines, or keeping the stuff we had in the plane beforehand, so if you get into a sticky situation here you need a real good cure then, well, go to them, and say that ol' Tantoo recommended they be the ones to fix ya up."

The kids ooo'd and awww'd at his sagely wisdom. Some clapped. Meanwhile Clarice and Blake exchanged brief glances between their rapid hand-written recordings of the conversation. It was simple advice, nothing glitzy, nothing elaborate, and nothing fantastical. Which made Clarice's confidence in him skyrocket.

A conman would've said a snake venom suction kit saved the day, a know-nothing clown would've said that some Indigenous magic ritual did the trick, but he's realistic, sensible… she sighed in relief. He clearly wanted to impart realistic advice onto the kids for their own good, while making those lessons palpable for their developing young minds. That he could do so while still captivating their attention was an added bonus. All in all, she had a good feeling about him. So far, at least.

He gave a few more Q&A's after that, though it all kind've melded together in Clarice's mind. She didn't really have the attention span for this sort of thing, didn't have too big an interest in survivalist fair in general, and had terrible handwriting to boot. Still, she listened as keenly as she could, recording what she felt was important, hoping beyond hope that Blake would do a better job of it.

Well, not that I even need to hope. The guy has the patience of a saint, keeps a journal, and is a shoe-in for dad of the year. If anyone in the world was perfect for this sort of thing, I'd put good money on that someone being Blake.

She could hear him scribbling away, quickly yet precisely, keeping up as best as he could as Tantoo cycled through topic after topic. What to do if your raft capsizes. How to purify water. The best way to make a tree fort. Even edible bugs and insects came up as a topic, with one particularly shifty looking kid proposing it as a topic of conversation. The in-depth details he gave on how to catch, carve, season and roast a tarantula to make a nigh gourmet meal really turned the tables from a gross out fest to making the hungry children's mouths water.

"Wild garlic and onion, some sea salt, a little honey drizzle, maybe some mint for garnish. Pair it with a nice fresh pine tea with some sweet grass for added delectability and you've got yourself a wilderness restaurant meal. Course, I'd rather deer or salmon to season than roast tarantula but, hey, when the chips are down you can make anything tasty! Why, I personally intend to cook you all your next meal once we go out and start foraging some fresh grub, so pretty soon you'll be able to sample the freshest tastes Mother Earth can share with us needy children of the lands."

That got them really cheering. An air of triumph like nothing Clarice had seen since this mess had started. Giving them one last big, endearing smile Tantoo stood up, clapped his hands, and gave a small theatrical bow to the little kids.

"Well, thanks for giving me a listen and a watch. I'd best not keep you waiting, that wilderness dinner special won't catch itself, and I'm sure you're all chomping at the bit to get a taste of ol' Tantoo's special survival snacks. So you all be good now, listen to your parents and Mr. Blake over then, stay out of trouble, and wait for me to get back with some grub that'll make your taste buds happier than a wolf with a nice big elk bone. That's all for now, be safe, 'ekosi-maka'."

With that he waltzed away and towards the pair of pilots, the other kids scattering like a cloud of kicked ants, all running off to their family units or bunching together with their friend groups to eagerly revel in the ignition of imagination Tantoo had sparked within them.

"So, you got all that, right?"

Blake nodded finishing up his last scribbled down sentence before stowing away his pen and losing the notebook he'd been so vigorously writing things down on.

"It was a good presentation. I know I'll be forwarding your work to my kids once this disaster is behind us."

"Really? Because looking at your eyes, I feel like I spy a glint of criticism simmering under the surface?"

Blake laughed off that assentation, getting up and thrusting the notebook into Tantoo's hands.

"What can I say? I get playing yourself up as a 'spiritually in-touch with Mother Earth' type for children, but I feel like you might be forcing your theatrics a bit? You clearly know your stuff, you should own it more."

"Heh. Well, what can I say? That's how my grandpa was like when I was their age, I guess I just want to try and carry over as much of that magic to the kids as I can. I couldn't tell you how good of a job I'm doing on that front… though… if you look at their happy little faces I think you'll agree that it's certainly brightened up their days."

"Blake and I are grateful for that." Clarice stepped in, giving Tantoo her best courteous staff member smile. "I can already feel the mood shifting. It's a good break from all the bad turns we've been taking lately, y'know?"

Tantoo nodded sagely, a deep understanding of what she meant creased on his face.

"This isn't my first plane accident. Grandpa charted a plane to go check out the Canadian Northern Territories when I was still a snot nosed brat who hadn't even finished suffering through puberty. We didn't have a lot of money, so, we skimped on costs. Plane went down, careened to a thankfully gentle stop in a snow bank, and we'd have all died if it weren't for my grandpa. My dad, my mom, my siblings, none of us were close to his level. He single handedly made his way from the crash to civilization and back again. I always wanted to be like him, and now, I get my chance."

"And like Clarice said, we're thankful for it," Blake spoke up again, gesturing upwards with his thumb, "I'm sure the old man is cheering you on from up there."

"Well… maybe not cheering… but you aren't entirely wrong. So, where's the away party gathering?"

Clarice gestured over to the opened exist, leading Tantoo there by the hand in a fashion that startled the man, though, not in an unwelcome manner.

"I'm flattered miss, but you don't-"

"No, no, it's fine. The spot's a short stroll away from the plane, and it's foggy out there, so-"

He broke off her handhold as they got to the inflated ramp, bounding down it eagerly, before gesturing back upwards for the other two to follow.

"Again, I'm flattered. But I'm supposed to be the point man, aren't I?"

He didn't particularly wait for them to get down too, heading off in, to Clarice's surprise, the exact right direction. A small sparse outcropping of barren trees on a raised patch of earth up above the rest of the mucky black swamp sludge.

"You aren't crushing on the guy, are you?"

Clarice's face went red as a strawberry.

"What the hell kind've question is that you blunt jerk?!"

Clarice all but yelled at him, slapping him so hard across the back that he tumbled down the inflated ramp and nearly went face first into the muck, only barely catching himself at the last minute. He picked himself up, turned back around to face her, and sat on the ramp in such a way that she knew he wasn't getting off and letting her descend until he had his answer.

"Okay… well… he does have a handsome face, the guy's pretty fit looking from all his outdoorsing, and he seems to have a genuinely good heart. What else can I say? I like the cut of his jib. And only that! So wash whatever ideas are swimming around in that mushy romanticist head of yours okay?"

Blake just shot and held a smug idiot's grin at her for what felt like a dozen or so seconds. As if doing so could sear the moment into her psyche in some vain hope of reigniting whatever romantic spark had been doused within her from losing her social life to the commercial flying grindset.

"Tch, come on Blake, you know he's probably noticed us by now! Cut it out!"

He shrugged.

"You sure. You were real quick to go grab his hand like that?"

"What are you, five?"

"Hey, handholding is the most special thing me and Michelle do with each other. I mean don't get me wrong, signing out the stork delivery forums is fun and all, but you can't exactly do it in public. Now handholding, that's where it's really at!"

If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

And now he's just taking the piss.

"Blake, move out of the way. I'm coming down now, this conversation is finishing, and we aren't bringing it back up again. Now, unless you want to take a mud bath, scram!"

She could hear him snickering to himself as he finally got up off his butt and moved out of the way. The slide down was still fun at least. Though, the headache of her numbskull best friend wouldn't be so easily remedied.

Especially when she noticed Tantoo staring back at them from within the distant fog.

"Huh… hey Clarice, you think he can hear us from all the way over there?"

They both almost went wide eyed as they saw him nod in response.

"Salt and crackers that's impressive! Don't you think so Clarice? … um… Clarice?"

She'd stay silent for the next few minutes as they slowly caught up to Tantoo, face buried in her hands as she prayed to whatever divine power might be out there that the man hadn't paid any mind to the stupid random tangent Blake had forced her into. She got that he was a big hopeless romantic over the concept of, well, romance. Having won the happy family homelife lottery did that to a person, or so she figured. But not everybody in the real world was lucky enough to marry their childhood best friend, settle down in a cozy house atop a hill and play stay-at-home family man to half a dozen children. Well, until recently at least… the thought of Michelle's current condition was like a bucket of cold water on her soul, and snapped her out of her childish internal bemoaning just in time for them to reach Tantoo's position.

"Now, that was one third the pace I can move at. Consider this a quick demo of just why you gold folks need someone who knows their way around difficult terrain. Now let's get a move on!"

As they waded through the uncomfortably thick swampy muck, taking care with every step through the eerily silent foggy marshland, an unsettling malaise set over them. The longer they were out here, the more surreal and disturbing the area felt. There was no wind, barely any light, with a faint acrid acidic tang becoming more and more prevalent in the air around them.

"So, Tantoo, um, do you have any thoughts on this place or what?" Blake asked him, the small-talk getting their minds off of the eeriness of the environment.

"Well, the queasy air isn't anything to worry about, I can tell you that. It's probably just sulfur. Painfully normal for a marshland, though, the fact that it's only faint is… weird."

"How so?"

"See, that funkiness from the sulfur is generally the result of bacteria in the wetlands doing their thing. If there's only a slight after-tone of swamp smell, it means there's not much in the way of decay… or bacteria. Hmmm…."

He stopped, the two pilots stopping right behind him. The man turned around 360 degrees, taking in all that was in view. A sparse few gnarled sickly looking trees, the occasional shrub looking thing growing up from out of the ground, and what Clarice assumed was a funky-looking type of moss that was growing atop the waters.

Aside from those three things though…

"Well, sparse vegetation means sparse decay. I suppose the plants here are just hardy and reclusive enough that they don't die and rot all too often. Still, the silence… considering the size of that snake the girl was flaying for tonight's dinner, there ought to be other critters roaming around that its supposed to dine on…"

"Could it have come here from another habitat? Maybe somebody drove it away, and it attacked us out of desperation?" Blake suggested, to which Tantoo shook his head.

"Let's not assume this mystery island is populated. More likely the snake never saw a human before, and took its would-be prey for easy pickings. No, I'm sure it was a native of this place. It might've just had a slow metabolism, or perhaps there's migratory species that come through this land we just haven't run into yet. If it could chow down on enough birds, for example, that might do it. Or… could be there's deeper pools within the swamp, with fish or whatnot it could snack on. That'd make its teeth make some sense if you ask me. Whatever the case, I don't like this place, it feel too dead for my taste."

"I hate to interrupt… however… we really should keep going…" Clarice reminded the two boys, who shrugged off the conversation and continued moving, as she'd suggested.

This is a mystery for another day. For now, we just need to get more food and get the hell out of this creepy place ASAP.

"Sooo, Tantoo, why'd you board our flight anyways?" She asked him, and he shot her a smile as he stroked his chin in fond reminiscence.

"Ah, why'd I want to visit Asia? Well, it's simple really; my Grandpa and I always wanted to visit Mount Everest. He died a little while ago from lung cancer, so, I had him cremated and took the ashes with me. Hopefully, sooner or later, I can climb the top of the world and let his spirit travel the world on the four winds."

"Awwww… I'm sure he'd have loved that".

"Yeah. He did. Told him as much before he passed. Said he'd stick around me till the deed was done. I never bought so much into the nature spiritualism stuff that he preached… it doesn't really matter though. The thought made him happy, when I told him, he knew I'd make it happen. So, spirits or not, it's something I've gotta do. Simple as."

Clarice saw Blake tearing up ever so slightly at the touching sentiment, oversensitive soul that he was. Tantoo also seemed to be in that weird happy-sad mental funk that comes with remembering the good beats of tragic moments. Clarice herself just hoped anything like that wasn't in the cards for her future. She'd enough on her plate as it was and, unlike Blake, didn't have luck or ridiculously potent optimism to fall back on.

"Y'know, when I'm on my death bead Tantoo, I hope my kids or grandkids'll be as good to me as you were to your grandpa. Seriously. You should be as proud of yourself as he'd be of you now." Blake consoled their new found survivalist comrade, who gladly took the kind sentiment, even if it didn't feel like it landed as well as it could've on his ears.

"It's all I can hope for. That I'm doing right by him. At the least, I can do right by you folks. Isn't that right, Marshal Jones?"

"I commend your formality but, please, no need for full titles outside a formals pace. Shorthand saves lives in a serious situation."

Air Marshal Kaleb Jones stepped forwards from the now pea-soup thick rolling fogbanks like a ghost, the vague shadowy silhouettes of trees behind him a short distance away.

"So, guess I'm heading back now?" Blake asked, the Air Marshal nodded, though, put his hand on Blake's shoulder before he could turn around back towards the plane.

"One moment Captain Goodman, there's one matter I need to discuss with you and Captain Ferrell in private. It is, after all, why I had him bring you here."

"Didn't so much bring me here as we led him to the meeting spot… wait… I feel like I'm missing something… Clarice, you didn't lead me to some secret shadowy meeting did you?"

She shook her head vigorously, eyes darting between Tantoo and Kaleb inquisitively.

"You didn't take the lead just to cut down on travel time, did you?"

Tantoo smiled a big, goofy looking grin, one arm rubbing the back of his neck in a manner she could only call nervous befuddlement.

"Errrr… ehehe… see, we made a big thing about you going and Blake here not… and Kaleb said something about needing to not give away any suspicious impressions, something about a secret matter between you three only. Anyways my part's done… soooooo… can I meet with the others now to give 'em the basic rundown?"

"You do that Mr. Tantoo. One word of advice though; while it ultimately won't amount to anything, for the sake of our privacy, I'd ask you not listen into what we are about to discuss."

"Got it. Don't keep us waiting. Daylight's burning and we need to get this over quick if we want to have half a hope of gathering up a good amount of grub."

Tantoo left them, Kaleb's face growing deadly serious as he turned to Blake.

"You will have reservations over what is about to transpire," he said up front, reaching to his hip, drawing his gun, and putting it in Blake's hands, "and I don't particularly care to hear them."

"…okay …why? Don't you need this for hunting?"

Kaleb sighed.

"We have no clue how long we'll be here. Or what manner of monstrosities, like that snake from last night for example, that may necessitate the use of my pistol. No, we cannot risk losing such a tool in the swamp, cannot waste its ammo so frivolously… especially when it is better put to use as a deterrent over by the plane."

That piqued Clarice's interest.

"A deterrent for what?"

"Anarchy, Captain Ferrell. Captain Goodman ought to keep the pistol hidden unless absolutely necessary. If necessary, however, he will need to use it to cow any opportunist parties whom may seize on the absence of myself and Mr. Merriweather to try and assert themselves over the other passengers."

"Sounds like something a shortsighted idiot would do. Come on Kaleb, how many folks fitting that description do you really think are on that plane?" Blake put forth, feeling distinctly unnerved by the responsibility Kaleb was literally thrusting into his hands. He was trembling, sweating, his hands shaking under the weight of the cold death dealing hunk of metal.

"There are five hundred passengers aboard that plane, Captain Goodman. Even assuming only one in one hundred are so foolish, that would make five souls idiotic enough to abandon reason for whatever madness the situation might've brewed within them. If you include the criminal we have locked up in a stall… that would make six. And if you included Mr. Dunkel… that would make seven."

"Uh-huh. Yeah, no. Even if Jonah was that crazy, he doesn't give the vibe of being that stupid. Besides, he'd probably jump at the chance to go stabbing some would-be mutineers or whatever."

"Your impressions of him are noted, Captain Ferrell. Indeed, the fact remains that he smuggled a knife aboard the plane. Truth be told, I had him stay behind because I do not want to risk that unstable psychopath jeopardizing this expedition with his… antics."

"I have to agree with Clarice here, Kaleb. That seems like kind've a harsh first impression you have."

"I could say similar about the disturbingly untroubled opinion you both seem to possess. You've only known him for a short time and you really, honestly. trust someone who ran out into the pitch black of night, knife in hand and sense left behind, to keep order when the 'grown-ups' are out? I'd ask you question his motivations if nothing else. For all we know he meant to do something unspeakable with Mr. Merriweather and the poor youth they brought back."

"I still don't like this…"

Kaleb took a deep breath, marched right up into Blake's face, and removed his glasses to stare that much more deeply into the man's soul.

"I… do… not… care… It would be the height of irresponsibility to leave him to do as he pleases. It would be foolish to bring the pistol with us. I have given you a task, and as the closest thing to an authority figure on hand at the current moment you will obey my directions. This is not a request, it is an order. Now… do… you… understand… me?"

For a moment she thought Blake would refuse Kaleb wholesale. Even after he let out a displeased huff and walked away with the tiny little death dealing machine... she still felt like he'd turn around and huck it right back into Kaleb's face.

She was glad he didn't.

I don't like this any more than he does… but even if the Air Marshal is wrong about Jonah… he's still got a point. We can't afford to take risks right now. Not until we get our bearings. It isn't fun to think about. It isn't pleasant. It's just a fact of the matter. Something we need to grit our teeth and deal with.

She hoped she'd never have to make any judgement calls like the Marshal was. If she was being real with herself, she was glad he was around to do it for them. She'd hate it if Blake and she had to call the shots. Clarice didn't trust herself to make a meal more complex than an oven ready pizza, and Blake would definitely break the moment he had to make a tough judgement call, the lovable softie that he was.

What else is there to think about? This was is the best way, for now…

She didn't give it any further thought. From the sounds in the distance Tantoo was done his preamble. All that was left was for her to hop skip over there, and they'd be setting off to parts unknown…