The rain patters on your poncho lean-to as you rouse from your slumber. Although the sound is deeply soothing, your heart hardly stops roiling in your chest. The dream you’ve experienced just now was absolutely perfect, and most of you would have preferred to stay in it, to finish off that beautiful moment.
Right now, you wouldn’t mind staying in there forever.
Instead, you’ve been dragged back to reality along with the cold, hard truth of loss. A bittersweet pang shoots through you, causing you to sigh at length. It hangs on your heart heavily, as though the thing is filled with bricks or lead.
Despite how snug you are in your sleeping bag, and how comfortable your moss-leaf bed is, you find it impossible to go back to sleep. Your heart and your mind are spinning at the recent memory of your dream, and you can’t help but relive those amazing few moments. Even if they aren’t even close to real.
The melancholy is crippling, without a doubt.
You glance down towards your feet, right where you’ve piled up most of your things. Just at the foot of your bed is Noir, curled up into a fuzzy ball. You can hear her very lightly snoozing.
Then, you roll over onto your stomach and angle your head outward. There, you see the forest getting soaked all around you. Judging by the sounds around you, the rain is still coming in heavily from above. Every drop hits the sweeping canopy, trickles down whatever leaves and branches it comes across, then falls further to the forest bed below.
You can’t really see much of the dirt itself, or how muddy it is. Simply, there’s so much leaves and moss and grass and shrubbery covering it all.
At least you can tell through the few gaps in the trees that the sky is still rather bright, but perhaps a couple hours away from twilight. It shouldn’t be long until the rest of the caravan wakes up and gets back on the road.
A quick Scan reveals that most are still sound asleep, with two pairs of two keeping a watchful eye on your perimeter. One pair is up in the trees, while another pair circles around the camp itself. They seem to have everything pretty much under control.
A wider Scan reveals nothing much out there, except perhaps a bunch of critters snoozing or resting or otherwise hiding from the rain.
You then spin back around and sit up in bed, then grab your water bottle from among your things. It’s pretty much empty at this point, so you pour in some of your electrolyte powder in there and fill it up with one of your water bottles. You shake it up and stow it away for later, then slug down whatever water’s left in your open bottle.
Taking a cue from the townsfolk’s rain catchment barrels, you put the empty water bottle out to hopefully catch a bit of rain. But the tiny mouth does little to actually catch water. Only a few drops get in there for the handful of moments that you watch. Perhaps you can borrow a funnel from someone to make this easier.
Since you’ve got time, you decide to clean up a bit. It has been a few days since your last shower, and you’re already starting to get a little grimy. You decide to shuck off your boots and socks, then stow everything in your pockets away carefully into one of your messenger bags’ pouches.
Then you climb out of your lean-to with your shirt and pants still on, out into the rain. It’s heavy enough that your clothes get heavier with each step, as they soak up more and more water. You circle around the rocky outcropping until you’re on the other side, out of view from anyone else in the caravan. There, you strip down to nothing and set your clothes on the outcropping itself.
While the clothes soak up more and more water, you enjoy your rain shower as best you can. Although you don’t have anything like soap or shampoo, you still scrub at your scalp and body a bit. Just doing so breaks up whatever grime and dirt and dried sweat that’s on you, and allows it all to get washed away into the earth.
The way the rain feels on your skin is deeply relaxing. This is one of the few pleasures in life, without a doubt.
As you cleanse yourself, you find your own heart and mind calming down and returning to earth as well. Though the pangs of loneliness still remain, it’s dull and weak and not enough to stop you from continuing your day.
You do your best to remind yourself that this is a big reason why you’re on this journey altogether - to help you get rid of this dream. Or get past it. Whatever it takes. Because whether it ends normally, or ends beautifully, the ache still remains inside you.
Death still haunts your reality.
Once you feel as clean as you can get, you pick up your clothes and wring them out as hard as you can. As you do so, brownish gunk gets squeezed out along with the water. It seems that they’ve hung on to quite a lot of dirt since you last changed them out.
You do your best to clean out whatever you can by simply rubbing the cloth against itself. Though this works to loosen a bit more grime, in no way are your clothes pristine. You resolve to scavenge a bar of soap somewhere, at some point in the future.
Happy with how much you’ve cleaned up your clothes, you wring them out one last time to get the last bits of dirt out, then put your underwear and pants back on. You roll up your shirt and carry it under your arm, then head over towards the clearing where the carts are.
Or more specifically you jog towards the shack, hoping to find a bit of shelter you can try to dry up in.
The rain is unimpeded by the tree canopy here, you can see that it’s coming down in sheets. Somehow, you feel even more waterlogged in the few seconds you spend out here. You duck under the awning on the front porch to escape the rain, then head inside the shack itself.
Inside is a bit of a mess - mostly emptied bowls and spoons littered on all the tables and every flat surface. Over in the corner with the stove and prep table are the two large pots where Frank and his team had been cooking the communal dinner.
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One of the pots is almost completely empty, with only small pools of thick broth at the bottom. The other still has a few servings of stew in it, though the meat and potatoes are pretty much cold.
Not that you care much - your stomach rumbles hungrily at the sight. You had fallen asleep so quickly yesterday that you completely missed out on dinner.
So you search around for a clean bowl and spoon - there are stacks of them on the prep table. You fill one up about halfway before you start munching down on a spoonful. It’s a bit salty but it’s also very tasty. And now that it’s cold, the stew itself is thick while the meat is soft. In all, you find it quite pleasant to eat.
You then lean halfway out the doorway and gaze out into the rain-soaked clearing.
The four carts are all abreast of each other, and their hitches have been turned to face towards the exit out of the area. More than that, it looks like they’ve all been covered in waterproof tarps which have been tied down tightly. They seem to cover everything except the corners where the rain collection barrels are.
You’re happy to see that the rain catchers are working perfectly. The wide funnels catch plenty of rain, allowing the barrels to gather up plenty of water. A quick glance at their semi translucent plastic walls reveals that they’re about a fourth of the way filled - you think about 50 liters?
Now you definitely have to find a small funnel for your bottles.
Once you’re finished with your meal, you use your Telekinesis to move the bowl and spoon out into the rain. You then grab one of the few ratty sponges from inside the shack, then use even more of your Telekinesis to scrub your bowl down.
You bring them back inside and stack them next to the only other clean stack of bowls and utensils.
Then, realizing you’ve still got a bit of time before everyone wakes, you decide to clean up everything in here. And so, with your Telekinesis, you pick up the next bowl and wash it out in the rain. And then the next, and the next, and the next.
It doesn’t take you long, but the task itself is relatively mundane. Practically mind-numbing. But that’s perhaps the point you’re trying to ingrain into yourself - all of your powers need to feel like second nature to you. Doing repetitive tasks ought to make doing specialized tasks that much easier.
Like lifting weights to gain muscle, reading books to gain knowledge, or practicing penmanship to gain motor skills. Washing bowls out in the rain to sharpen your mind sounds like an odd, but great addition to the list.
About a third of the township wakes by the time you’re done with all the bowls and spoons. All are neatly stacked next to each other, presumably how they had looked the night prior. The rain has also slowed down and let up to some degree along the way, and seems to continue to ebb and peter out.
By the time everyone’s up, the rain is down to a light drizzle, enough for everyone to ignore it and start their day. Most simply snack on whatever cold breakfast they’ve prepared for themselves, while the rest begin breaking down their tents and camps.
You decide to go on a short hunt instead, to further hone your Telekinesis. Cleaning up those bowls didn’t put much of a dent on your energies, leaving you plenty to use for this jaunt. You’re sure to tell Frank and Nance what you’re doing, then head deep into the forest north of the hunting camp.
It’s not that you particularly want to go north - that’s simply where the wind’s blowing from.
You go into a stalking mode once you get far enough in, then perform a Scan that reaches out for a few dozen meters all around you. And you find all kinds of life out here - their animalistic thoughts and emotions light up all around you, each one different in their own unique way. But there’s perhaps too many, and the area around you is practically packed with animals - earthbound and alien alike.
It makes sense that everyone’s out here, of course. It has just been raining and everyone is hungry. They’re out scavenging or hunting for prey right now. Yourself included.
You suppose this is what is meant by the bountifulness of rain.
Some kind of small marsupial or mammal catches your attention when you emit another Scan. It seems rather fat and happy, and is munching away on some other, much smaller critter - possibly some kind of alien insect.
You reduce your presence as much as you’re able, then stalk your way towards your prey.
Though you alert a few other critters along the way, you remain undetected to most others. Simply, your ability to sense their minds - to see what they’re focused on - that helps you maneuver yourself around their awareness.
Not only that, but you can use tiny amounts of your Telekinesis to catch their attention, even if only for a second. All you do is rustle up dead leaves, or cause a twig to fall, or make a branch creak. Whatever small noise is more than enough to take their individual attention away. While they concentrate on nothing, you slip by unnoticed and get that much closer to your prey.
It feels a bit like cheating, honestly.
Although you can’t see your prey as it moves in the underbrush, you can easily tell exactly where it is. Not just from the sounds it makes, but from the emotions it emits. You’re close enough that even a light Scan is enough to pinpoint its location.
So you slowly slide out one of your short bolts from your forearm quiver, then hold it up in the air with your Telekinesis. You aim it as best you can for what you think is its head, then fling it as fast and as hard as you possibly can.
The bolt whips through the air into the shrubs. It smacks hard against the critter, causing the thing to shriek before falling over with a soft THMP.
Although a handful of critters near you run out of surprise, most others simply move a few steps away from you. Or rather, away from the critter that yelped aloud.
You push your way into the brush itself and open it up just enough so you can see what you’re doing. There in the middle of it all is your prey - a fat raccoon. Its legs are twitching, which makes you think it might still be alive, but a Scan shows that it’s very nearly dead.
You quickly find the spot where your bolt hit - just behind the head on its spine. You grab both ends with your Telekinesis, and with a firm twist snap the neck fully. It slumps instantly, and you sense its remaining thoughts and emotions wink out along with its life.
Then, you perform another Scan around you to find your next few meaty targets. If anything, you’d like to contribute something to the caravan’s next meal. A half dozen spitroasted raccoons ought to add a bit of variety, right?
Alarm sweeps through you as you sense something at the very edge of your Scan, far to the northeast. It’s vague at first considering how far it is. But you decide to narrow your scan down to a cone, which also increases how far you can sense.
Your focused Scan reveals a quartet of minds, all in sync with each other. Their thoughts and emotions waver very little as they travel across the forest floor. Not only that, but they seem to be traveling in an aggressive diamond-like formation.
Most alarming of all is that the presence leading them has psionic powers.
It dawns on you that these are Crags, similar to the ones you’ve befriended back in your home city. Only these don’t feel like scouts at all. These have a more aggressive purpose about them, and they seem larger and denser as well.
The thought occurs to you that everyone and everything has been enjoying the bounty that the rain has brought. The Crags included. They’re no doubt hungry, and might be searching for food for the hive.
It wouldn’t be a problem, except they appear to be headed towards you and the caravan. No doubt they’ve been attracted by the scent of their prey.