Hildesman started out on a slow clockwise spiral around the crash site, keeping his eyes open for any sign of passage by humans or large beasts. Small beasts were of lesser concern, but almost automatically he found himself tracking the quiet sounds of the night. Small burrowing animals scattered fallen leaves as he passed. Once or twice he heard the sounds of owls crashing down on their prey or hooting to declare that this territory was claimed.
The crash itself had torn a hole in the forest's roof, and twigs and branches piled below it. Hildesman collected enough to make a small but hot flame for Brother Davvis's work as he went. Beyond the crash site, the drone of night insects was louder. Hildesman felt himself relax incrementally as he started his long slow arc, watching the dirt for signs of passage. It was one of the first things his teacher had ever demonstrated to him. Large animals, no matter how naturally stealthy, couldn't help but leave traces behind as they walked. Their weight pressed into the soil and mud. Their claws and hooves left scratches on rock and root. Saplings and ferns would be bent or broken, and would fail to grow entirely if a path was used frequently.
This part of the forest was surprisingly active. His spiral took him across two separate deer paths, so long worn into the forest floor that the dirt no longer held distinct hoof prints. A bear, small by the size of its footprints, had passed here sometime in the past few days. That wasn't a huge concern; it was too late in the year for cubs and bears kept large territories. It was unlikely it would be nearby now. Further along, he found the lone tracks of a largish elk, zig-zagging off to the north. An oddity in this terrain, but not a dangerous one.
His spiral took him across the stream twice. Both times, he noted fish greedily snapping at night insects. The water was unlikely to have heavy Tessenium contamination, at least. Fortunately, they did not have to test it; their canteens were still full from their departure mere hours ago.
He was getting ready to head back, a bundle of hardwood branches tucked through a strap on his pack, when he saw the first sign of immediate danger. A single print had pressed down where the dirt was hardest. Five toe pads, spaced evenly around a horseshoe-shaped center pad like some sort of bizarre flower. Each was tipped with a long claw mark. It was such a perfect impression, Hildesman couldn't have drawn it better with pencil. He fingered at the tooth-buttons sewn to his vest. Direwolf. Recent; the dirt here was loose enough that the print would fade in a day or two. His only point of solace was that at least the print was too small for either of the big brutes he had heard to populate the area. It was severely dampened by the fact that even a small direwolf would outweigh him. Without hesitation, he turned to set a line directly back to their campsite. As a precaution, he holstered his hatchet and drew his bolter, priming it and keeping it in a low guard.
His line took him across the path of the direwolf twice more, and he allowed himself a small measure of hope; the beast's path seemed to have been a meandering journey away from their machine. It wasn't hunting them, nor was it fleeing from a larger beast's territory. It was merely ranging, as close to a harmless activity as any of the great mutants ever got. If Brother Davvis could get them airborne again, they'd be out of this part of the forest long before the wolf came back. He ignored the cynical part of him that pointed out that if they didn't, their mission would take them in the same direction as the creature. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.b
When he got back to the relative shelter of the old willow tree, he found Brother Davvis carefully pouring some sort of sludge onto the damaged lift pod. Glue, Hildesman guessed. The young engineer looked up as Hildesman pushed some branches aside to join him.
"Looks like you've got this almost patched up. That's good. No immediate threats, but we're in the range of at least one direwolf. Leaving by air is far preferable to leaving by land."
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Brother Davvis paused for a moment, his forehead wrinkling in an expression that could be focus or worry. Then he answered, resuming his slow application of sludge. "I need that fire. It doesn't have to be very hot, but it needs to be an actual flame. And then I'm gonna need your help with that," the Brother pointed at the bent arm, which was nearly straight, held in place by a complicated and hodge-podge collection of clamps and what seemed to be leather straps salvaged from the gunnery cage. "The clamps are holding it straight, but the metal is going to want to bend back after I release them; it's similar to spring steel. I think with two pairs of hands, I can get a rig fixed up that will hold it to the main frame instead of a tree root, so we can take it in the air. Then I'll put some glue on the clamps to help hold them in place."
Hildesman dug a small pit with his hands and began arranging branches in it as Brother Davvis worked. "Why would you use spring steel on the arms? Why not something lighter, or easier to field repair?"
Brother Davvis didn't look up as he used a stripped branch to smooth out the glue. "For one thing, I wasn't expecting to have to field repair it this soon." When Hildesman didn't respond, Brother Davvis kept talking. "But mostly it's because this alloy was the only one we could find that had the right combination of properties. Everything else was too rigid, or too heavy, or didn't conduct Tessenium energy adequately. Trust me, I'll be paying a visit to some of my friends in metallurgy when we get back."
The branches were still fresh, so it took a minute for Hildesman's little pile of twigs to get them burning. Once the fire was building, he added some of the larger branches, then wrapped two of the heaviest in cloth, forming rough torches they could use to cure the glue. Brother Davvis demonstrated how and where to apply the flame, and the two of them got to work.
"You know," he offered, as he watched the sludgy concoction change from translucent orange to a deep brown under his flame, "I'm not an engineer, but why do you have to have all the properties in one metal?"
"How do you mean?" Brother Davis asked, curing a separate tear on the main frame.
"Well, you said one of the properties you needed was conductivity. Why does that have to be in the main arm? Why not run cables, like what they do in the city?"
"We tried it. It adds too much weight. We couldn't stay airborne as long, and increasing the size of the pods meant we needed more cables, which meant bigger pods, and so on until we had a worse version of the existing skimmers." He lifted his flame away and flipped a lens from his helmet down to inspect the cured sealant. "And besides, it's better if the whole pod is conductive. More consistent lift, that way.
Hildesman shrugged. "Hopefully your metallurgist can find you something, I guess. I shoulda known better than to second-guess an artificer."
"Not at all," Brother Davvis offered, using his lens to inspect Hildesman's work. "I'm actually impressed. Most people don't think about solutions like that unless they have some training in mechanics or artifice."
"My brother-in-law is a mechanic." Hildesman explained. "I learned enough to keep up over dinners. Plus, knowing how to field repair your own bolter is sometimes a life or death situation in my line of work."
"Speaking of. You said we were in the territory of a direwolf, but you seem remarkably calm."
"I found its trail leading away from us." Hildesman pointed east and a bit north. "Unless it doubles back tonight or the wind shifts, we'll be okay."
"That's...the direction we need to be going," Brother Davvis commented after checking a compass set into his array of controls.
"Yup," Hildesman answered. Brother Davvis waited expectantly for a few seconds, then shook his head, touching his tattoos as if to reassure himself that he was armed. Hildesman understood the impulse; he had checked his bolter's clearance every time he shifted position while curing the glue. But he didn't let panic drive his actions; he understood that the beast wasn't here, and forced himself to focus on his work. The younger man didn't seem to realize it, but he was reflecting Hildesman's mood and staying on task as well, which was the main reason Hildesman wasn't digging a foxhole to hide out in right now.
"Alright, the glue is sealed. Next we gotta get these clamps in place. Take that strap, pull it to here. It's gonna resist you..."