Thinking back, I try to work out how much time it’s been since Bastet went to scout. She left before I went into the forest, and that whole debacle. Then all the recovery phase, not to mention me checking my notifications and levelling up... I stand, feeling nervous energy running through me. What if she’s in trouble? Then I remember that I can just touch the Bond and check on her and I feel like an idiot. Doing so immediately, I get more information from the connection than I ever had before.
My raptorcat companion is absolutely fine. She’s a little tired, but no more than that. Still feeling well-fed. Not thirsty, which is better than I am right now. As for her emotional state, she’s wary, and eager to get back to us, but there’s also a significant amount of excitement. The last makes my eyebrows rise in surprise. What could she be excited about? Food? Or maybe she’s got confirmation that there’s an exit? That would be good!
Either way, she feels like she’s still a fair distance away. Relieved of that worry, I open my status screen briefly to check things out. I’ve now reached twenty points in Intelligence, meaning that I’m not going to be earning any more organically in that. Willpower was already over twenty, now sitting at an effective twenty-seven points. Wisdom is the only one in which I might continue to grow, at eighteen points.
I’m tired – I’ve basically not slept in two days. Probably the only reason I’m keeping going at all is because of my new Meditation benefit meaning that I’ve actually been able to get some rest. Maybe I should do some more Meditation while I wait? Or actually sleep if I can? But first, I need to check up on my group.
I squint in the darkness, struggling to see the cubs or Lathani. River’s clear enough, his outline picked out by the moonlight. Then I think that this would be a perfect opportunity to use the newest rank-up of one of my Skills. Activating Fade, I feel a sharpening and lightening of the world around me. It may only be five percent, but it makes a noticeable difference – unless the light level is low enough for the ten percent, that is. If it was, that would make more sense.
I’d say it’s like the brightness has been turned up a couple of notches, but that wouldn’t be quite accurate. Either way, I’m able to spot the nunda cub – or juvenile, or whatever she is now. Even though she doesn’t seem to have any magical stealth, her coat allows her to blend in well with the mottled ground. Having seen her, I next identify Storm cuddled up to her, the paler raptorcat easier to see than her siblings, who are also nestled together.
I walk closer, trying to be quiet in case Lathani’s sleeping. When I see her eyes glint in the moonlight, I realise she’s still awake. The raptorcats are dead to the world, though, bundles of fluff and feathers shifting slightly in their sleep. My eyes flick over the nunda cub and something – maybe my Animal Empathy, maybe something else – tells me she’s still moping. I release Fade a couple of steps away, not wanting to surprise her. When she only shifts her head to look at me, no surprise visible, I realise she already knew I was there. I really need to figure out a way of hiding my scent and the noises I make. Fortunately, right now it doesn’t matter.
“Hey,” I say to her gently, crouching down next to her. “We’ll get you back to your mum, I promise.” She’s quiet for a moment.
Do you think she’ll accept me? What if she turns me away? Where would I go? What would I do? I frown.
“Accept you? What do you mean?”
Like this. Different. I’m...I’m not her little cub anymore. I’m quiet too for a few long moments, Lathani’s words inadvertently digging at a wound within me.
“I think you’ll probably always be her little cub,” I tell her in the end. “If she’s anything like my mum was. And I don’t think you’re as grown-up as you think you are,” I add, a little pointedly. That makes her raise her head and growl at me. The whiny hint to the sound just proves my point, in my opinion. “Anyway,” I continue, trying not to smile, “if she does reject you, you can always stay with us.”
But you live with mother, Lathani points out. I let my mouth pull up at the corner.
“Well, she forbid me from using either of my Skills on you at the start, but if she rejects you as her cub, then I don’t see how she could complain about me offering you a Bond – if you want one, of course. Then she’s really got no grounds to complain about you staying with us.” I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t actually be as clear-cut as all that, the least of the consequences starting with the fact that without needing my baby-sitting services, my landlady might turn me out on my ear.
Since I don’t think that there’s much chance of Kalanthia rejecting her beloved cub, though, I don’t bother Lathani with the details. Apparently having a backup plan is enough to cheer her though, as she nuzzles me for a moment before putting her head back on her paws and closing her eyes. I’m sure that it hasn’t soothed her worries completely, but if it allows her to get some rest, then all the better.
Since the cubs are asleep, I walk over to River next. He’s by the salamander corpse, and as I get closer I realise that he’s still butchering it, piling the chunks of meat on top of a section of the salamander’s skin. I quickly begin piling the lumps of flesh into my Inventory, glad to have ten new slots available. Without Fade sharpening my eyesight, I’m working mostly by feel.
“How can you butcher a corpse in this light level?” I ask River in curiosity. He certainly doesn’t seem to be fumbling around.
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What do you mean? he asks. Fortunately, I don’t need to be able to see him as his meaning comes across the Bond mentally, just as my words do to him.
“You know, it’s dark?” I reply slowly. “The sun is down?” He moves in the lizard-man version of a shrug which seems to be a gentle wave of the tail, visible only because his scales catch the light.
The moon is sufficient for the task. Hmm. I straighten and look at him.
“River, how would you describe your eye-sight like in the dark?” I ask slowly.
Passable, he replies. My people would never consider ourselves nocturnal – communication becomes more difficult in the deepest night when we cannot see each other’s visual cues, but as long as there is some light we can get by. And yourself?
“Much worse than that,” I admit. “I’m struggling to see now.”
Oh? he asks curiously. This light level is a little dim for me, but it’s not bad. The middle of the day can be a little bright if we are not under the trees, but that’s rarely a problem, he adds. I hum in acknowledgment. Good to know. Hopefully improving my Constitution will improve my sight in the dark in the long-term since I don’t want to have to use Fade all the time.
There’s a slurping, squelching sound. River turns to me a moment later.
Do you know what this is? he asks, handing me something. It feels like a bag full of liquid, but he’s holding it by what I guess is the outlet since no liquid is pouring over my fingers. I hold it in the moonlight, reactivating Fade so that my eyesight is maximised. It looks similar to what I was expecting – a bag about the size of a football, but more like a saggy tit than anything else. It’s not full, whatever it is. Idly I wonder about making a waterskin out of it. If I could cure the exterior walls, it would be perfect. Then I catch a whiff of the liquid and all thoughts of turning it into a waterskin flee my mind.
“Keep holding that, would you?” I ask River absently as I reach for some sticks from my Inventory. It’s fortunate that I’d already collected a good amount of wood by the time we were attacked. Wiping my damp – and greasy-feeling – hand on the cloth which has already been ruined by my level-up, I quickly shove it back into my Inventory as my nose scrunches up at its smell. When I run out of space, that cloth will be the first to go; for now, it’s doing a good job as a disposable rag.
Starting the fire is only a matter of minutes, but I’m still impatient as I wait for the fire to catch well enough for my little experiment. Then, once the flames are eating hungrily at the twigs I’ve placed in a pile, I reach for the bladder or whatever it is. Tipping a little of the oily liquid onto a stick, I toss it on the fire. It’s only a few drops, but I’m glad I didn’t use more.
The fire flares up brightly, its foot-tall flames illuminating a shocked lizard-man. I don’t mind admitting that I’m a little startled too. Well, I guess we just found whatever the salamander was using to breathe fire. As a thought occurs, I stare at the trees, a malicious smile creeping across my face. If Bastet comes back and says that the tunnel is even remotely dangerous, I think I know exactly what to do.
In the meantime, however, I’ve got another idea. By sacrificing another of my shirts, cutting it into four and then wrapping it around four more branches, soaking the ends in this liquid, I manage to create some more torches. If necessary, I’ve got the items necessary to create further torches, but the fewer clothes I need to sacrifice, the better. If it’s a question of life or my clothes...well, it’s a tough choice, but if I lose my life, I won’t be able to wear my clothes, so…
Dipping the head of one of the new torches in the fire, I test it – I’ve learnt my lesson about leaving field tests until I’m actually in the field. The torch flares brightly for a few moments, then dies down significantly. Fortunately, it doesn’t die out completely, but starts burning the cloth and wood inside merrily. I’m not sure how long these torches will last, but with four and a half, it should be fine. Erring on the side of caution, I put all four of the new ones in my Inventory, the burning one snuffing out immediately.
I hesitate. I should keep loading my Inventory with the chunks of flesh that River’s returned to slicing off the massive carcass but...I’m exhausted. I was tired before, and that was before I was poisoned and almost died. Now...I’m on the edge of just keeling over. Lathani and the cubs are sleeping. I can’t see the bird, but I sense through the Bond that she’s resting at least. It’s just me and River awake now.
“How are you doing?” I ask him, wanting desperately to knock off but unable to do so without checking on all my companions. The ones within range, anyway. “How are you feeling after earlier?”
Tired, but serviceable. He hesitates for a moment I don’t feel like I have fully recovered whatever resource you took, but the aftereffects have largely eased. Now I just feel a little...drained.
“Why don’t you sleep?” I suggest, hating myself, even though my guilt at my part in how tired he feels prompts me to speak. If he sleeps, I can’t. Then my sense of shame deepens when I feel a wave of negation through the Bond.
I am used to this. We rarely sleep away from the village: the forest is just too dangerous. I hesitate again, second-guessing myself. Finally, I decide to just say what I’d thought – no one will be truly helped by my keeping silent.
“We’re not going back to the village, though.”
No, he accepts, and I feel the pain underlying the response. But we are going somewhere safer than this, are we not? It’s a little pointed.
“Yes we are,” I affirm, keeping to myself any concerns about bringing a lizard-man into biting range of the nunda whose cub he’d been party to hurting. I’d worried about bringing Bastet and the cubs home and it turned out OK. This will too. Or so I tell myself.
Then I will sleep when we are safer. Rest, Markus. A wave of renewed guilt runs through me at how transparent I must appear to him. It doesn’t stop me from taking his advice. I’m out like a light as soon as I curl up with my back against Lathani.
*****
It doesn’t feel like more than a minute later when I’m nudged urgently. I mumble and try to bat the interfering hand away. My fingers touch rough, scaly skin attached to sharp claws. Following up the arm, I feel feather-fur. Opening my eyes wide, I see a familiar outline in the moonlight and a wave of amusement hits me through the Bond.
Bastet’s back.