The leather workshop was a square yard that held several processing stations. For venting, it opened to the air on two sides. It shared one of its walls with the house, with an adjacent side made up of multiple storage sheds. At the opposite corner stood a post, anchoring the awning that covered the yard.
Shim, with his broken arm still splinted, resigned himself to supervising Marcy at the hole-punching machine. This is going to be a long day.
It’s the simplest of tasks: line up the markings on the leather with the guides on the machine and pull the handle. His little sister had learned how to use the machine several months ago. But Marcy being the woolgatherer that she is, he thought it best to monitor her.
Dad was having one of those days, so it’s important to present no outlets for his mood.
Correcting Marcy’s placement of the leather again, he almost wished Renalia, that work fanatic, was here instead. And that makes two of us, he thought, as Marcy asked yet another question about the girl. “But what did she say that got you so mad?”
Shim sighed. “She said Big Brother ran away without saying goodbye.”
Marcy glanced around, and without sighting Dad, whispered, “But he didn’t say goodbye, though. He left us in the middle of the night.”
“That’s not the point. She implied he didn’t care about us.”
“Well, he didn’t”–Marcy met his eyes before he could protest–“not like you do.”
How do I reply to that? For how scatterbrained she is, Marcy said the most perceptive things sometimes. When Big Brother had run away from home, Shim had taken it personally. He had struggled with anger at his brother, mixed with self-doubt at being left behind. And he had vowed that he would never cause his siblings to feel the same way.
But, despite his resolution, he had not come to terms with his brother leaving in the first place. Even a year later, Renalia sticking her nose where it didn’t belong was like lifting the lid from a pot of boiling soup.
“Well,” Marcy declared, “I think you deserve it. Why are you so mean to her, anyway?”
“I’m not mean to her. She just … she says the meanest things, too.”
Marcy rolled her eyes and pulled the handle on the machine down. “Hmph. I’m making her my new best friend, so you’d better be nice to her.”
Shim quickly adjusted the leather so that it lined up. “She’s not here for a sleepover, Marcy. She’s only here to do my work and chores before my arm–which she broke, by the way–is fixed. After that, she goes back to her family.”
“Doesn’t matter. I like her, and if you make her sad, I’ll be sad too. You wouldn’t want me sad, would you?”
“That’s not how it works,” Shim said in exasperation. Why do people like that girl so much? He didn’t understand it. She’s feisty, but that didn’t mean she deserved all the attention.
Spotting Dad’s approach, he said, “Shut up, Marcy, and get back to work.” Having made her intentions clear, Marcy seemed to concentrate on the task before her much better than before.
In the afternoon, the siblings transitioned to adding rivets to the pieces of leather while their dad made measurements at the center table. They had fallen into a silent rhythm, so Shim was startled when his dad barked a laugh. “What’d I tell ya, boy? This girl knows how to fight.”
Shim looked up and his jaw dropped. The tiny girl stood next to Boogie, clothed in disgusting and torn rags. She shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortable at the attention. Boogie, on the other hand, stood happy and proud, with the double haul behind him.
Marcy gasped and rushed to the girl, dropping their sheet of leather and spilling rivets everywhere. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” Renalia said as she squirmed under Marcy’s probing hands. “It only got to my clothes.”
“Good,” Dad said as he approached. “Marcy can get you a set of clothes later.” His sister clasped her hands together in joy. “Later,” Dad emphasized, “after the carcass is unmade. Shim, show her how to do it.”
Shim, examining the cut on Boogie’s snout, replied without lifting his head, “Yes, sir.” He directed various jets of [Cleanse] on the dog.
“Is Boogie going to be okay?” Renalia asked, stroking his cleaner coat.
“Yes, it looks like a clean cut. As long as he’s not bothering it, it should heal fine,” Shim replied.
Dad unhitched the boglings from the dog. “Goddamn! Look at the size of this hare.” He slapped Renalia on the back, causing her to wince and take an involuntary step forward. “I knew you had a hunter’s spirit.” He gave her a rough half hug.
Dad’s mood had really turned around. The sudden action surprised Renalia, and she stood there uncomfortably.
Judging by its size, the hare died in its prime. And its quality condition meant it was suitable for multiple enhancements from the bog. At the very least, the musculature suggested enhanced speed, while the sharp claws and fangs implied vicious combat ability. Boogie couldn’t have taken down this prey by himself.
How did she do it?
“Girls, grab the feet,” Dad ordered, and proceeded to drag the hare to a station at the far corner of the yard. Shim trailed the girls, and regarding them side by side, it was even more obvious how short and skinny Renalia was. Shim frowned. It didn’t make any sense that a peat farmer’s daughter could score a kill like this.
“Shim will show you how to process the hare here. Best to do it now before cleaning yourself up.”
“Yes, sir,” Renalia replied. “Um, sir, can I give these to Myfanwy later?” She lifted her right wrist, which had bundles of weeds tied to it with a strip of rag from her shirt.
“Sure, after everything’s done.”
Shim telekinetically grabbed a couple of aprons off a nearby hook and handed one to her. “Get rid of the weeds and put this on.” He wasn’t sure it was strictly necessary for Renalia though. Her rags were going to get tossed anyway.
“They’re not weeds,” Renalia said, “They’re precious herbs.” But she did as Shim told her to.
With the carcass laying on its side on top of the drainage table, Shim got a good view of the at least a dozen knife wounds on the hare. Frowning, he probed with his fingers, confirming that the leather was at least an inch thick, even around the abdomen. There’s no way she could do this with the small knife he lent her. Unless, maybe she had a strength card, like her dad.
“Now grab that saw and open up the hide, from abdomen to sternum.”
“The what to the what?”
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“God, you don’t know anything. From the belly to the chest bone.” The girl tried to cut the hare open but struggled to pierce the hide, with the saw looking comically big in her hands. He waited for her to activate a strength card, but she didn’t do anything.
“Argh, move!” he said in exasperation. She offered the tool to him, but he shoved it out of the way. Pointing at the abdomen with his fore and middle fingers, he [Cut] in a smooth motion. The skin split, and satisfied with the depth of the cut, he [Cut] again up to the sternum.
Proud of himself, he looked at the girl to brag, but her emotionless expression unnerved him.
“It took a lot of practice to balance the depth and length of the cut,” he explained. “And I could do it because my dad has the same card, so he showed me how to control it.”
“Okay,” she said in a level tone.
Unsatisfied with her lack of appreciation, he said roughly, “Now, reach inside and scoop all the innards out.”
The girl reached out but returned her hand to her belly. Puzzled, he asked, “What was that?”
“Nothing, just scratching my belly.”
“But what was that thing you were doing?” He mimicked her pinching motion.
“What thing? You’re being weird.”
“What? No, you’re being weird.”
“Shim,” Marcy called out from her rivet station, “The lady’s got an itch–maybe you should help her scratch it.”
Dad erupted in laughter and slapped his knee.
“Shut up, Marcy!” Shim sighed. This is going to be a long day.
***
Marcy was being so patient, but they were taking so long.
How hard could it be to dress a hare? You just cut it open and then… Marcy shivered at the image. Okay, it’s not easy, but it shouldn’t take this long.
It’s so boring punching holes and putting in rivets.
She couldn’t wait to dress Renalia! So much better than dressing a hare. They’re going to have so much fun.
“Are you done yet?”
“No! Mind your own business,” Shim shouted back. Argh, stupid Shim. He’s such a terrible teacher. Renalia should have finished by now.
Renalia. Nalia. Nali. Alia. Lia. Renaly. Rena. Reny. “Can I call you Reny?”
“Um, sure,” came the reply.
Yes! Marcy and Reny. Reny and Marcy. They’re going to have so much fun.
A rivet flew from her hand. She jumped after it. Stupid rivets, never staying in place.
While crouched on the ground, she found another rivet. And another. Why are there so many rivets on the ground? People shouldn’t just leave them lying around. What if Reny stepped on one?
It would hurt so much.
Cause she didn’t have shoes. Why doesn’t she have shoes? Oh my God, she needs shoes. But maybe she doesn’t like shoes?
“Reny, do you wear shoes?” she yelled.
“Yes, sometimes.”
Yes! It would be so cool if they could share shoes. They’d be like real sisters.
The very worst thing about Minnie–the only bad thing, actually–is that she’s too little to be a sister. She’s barely even a person!
“We’re going to be like sisters!”
“Shut up, Marcy.” Stupid Shim. He better be nice to Reny. Why couldn’t he see that Reny is good for him?
“Marcy, stop staring at the ground.” Reny was good for Dad too, who resumed humming while measuring and cutting pieces of hide. He seemed more secure and happier with someone capable of hunting in the house.
And Marcy just knew Reny would be good for her too. She needed someone fierce in her life.
Oh, what is taking so long!
“This one is my favorite.” Marcy presented Reny with her best dress, with colorful ribbons that she had added since learning to sew. The ribbons added extra awesomeness to the already frilly dress.
“Um, it’s beautiful, but I need something with pants. You know, for hunting.”
Marcy frowned. The only ones suitable were hand-me-down outfits from Big Brother, which are now hand-me-down outfits from Shim.
“I guess this will have to do.” Marcy reluctantly lifted the best one in Reny’s size from the pole in the closet. “But maybe we can add some ribbons?” she asked in a plaintive yet hopeful voice.
“Well, I was thinking maybe instead of loose ribbons, you could make it into a loop. You know, for hanging stuff from.”
Oh, yes! A designer who knows her mind. “Like the bracelet you made to hold the herbs?”
“Yes, something like that.” Oh goody, and she can make some new bracelets, too. The one Reny had would probably fall apart with a light tug.
“And what about shoes? What do you have in mind for those?”
Shoes, shoes, lovely little shoes.
One, two, one two, one, two!
“I think shoes will be wasted on me. If I’m going into the bog to hunt, I’ll just get them dirty.” Aw, no!
“Hm, none of Big Brother’s old boots are small enough for your feet.”
While helping Reny clean herself up, she had been shocked into silence by the ridges of ribs and dark patches of unhealthy skin. Now is the time to say something.
“Promise me you’ll eat everything I put in front of you. And no more sharing with Boogie. He doesn’t get lunch.” She placed her hands on her hips. “Then you can grow into those boots!”
Reny nodded her head and hugged her. Reny’s a hugger! She’s the best best-friend ever! Marcy enveloped Reny in her arms. Huggies, huggies, huggies.
She’s waited so long for this.
***
Renalia was tired to the bones after a long day. Not only had she pushed her body to its limits in a life-or-death struggle, not only did she have an emotional confrontation with her own mortality, but she also had the grueling task of deboning a massive bogling hare.
While Shim had assisted on the bigger bones with his [Cut] skill, there were still dozens of pieces she had to carve through by herself. She became intimately familiar with the muscles and bones inside the body–the “anatomy”, as Shim had called it. Working with Shim had been a test of her patience, but she realized the value of what he taught her.
She finished preparing the stew for dinner and forced herself to ignore the pull of the straw bed before walking out the door.
Shim’s dad was using the last hour before sunset to finish cutting the piece of leather he was working on. “Sir,” she said, “I started the stew. Can I stop by Myfanwy’s before dinner?”
“Ah, Renalia, come here for a moment.” Taking a spear from nearby, he told her to kneel.
She trembled at his no-nonsense attitude, not knowing what was coming next. It’s not fair! She had done everything he asked.
While a loud voice, he intoned, “Clan Ongock recognizes Renalia as a full-fledged Hunter, as proven on her first outing, with a solo take of a bog-enhanced hare in its prime and a solo take for a bog-enhanced mole.”
Renalia looked at him in shock. She had feared he would reject her request since she took so long at cleaning the hare. This, on the other hand, had never been part of her expectations. “I don’t … I’m not …” I’m a peat farmer.
He held out the spear. “I was waiting to give this to Shim someday, but who knows when he’ll be ready.”
She glanced at Shim, who wore the weirdest expression on his face. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking, but it was definitely not happiness for her.
“Take the spear,” Shim’s dad whispered out of the side of his mouth, in a tone that brooked no argument.
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” She reached overhead with both hands and accepted the weapon.
“No need for formality between Hunters. You can call me Malchim.”
Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Take pride in your kills and carry yourself with the dignity and honor of all Hunters. May your hunts be ever fruitful. Rise, Hunter Renalia.”