Adam and his small team, escort even, were rapidly enveloped within the canopy of the forest. Bright and warm sunlight changing as if a switch was flipped, to cool and dappled shade.
Adam took the lead, his step perhaps the least confident, perhaps as well the most. His footing was sure, retracing his steps from yesterday made the route if not easy, then easier then it was for his companions. Conner, it would seem was having the hardest time of all of them, the man seemed almost incapable of backing down from anything, any steep bank or loose slippery river stones were approached like obstacles to be overcome, not challenges to be avoided.
Mark however was surprisingly dexterous, his footing shifted fluidly, moving with surety from point to point, he was using his spear almost as a third limb, constantly probing, checking for footing, whilst always remaining vigilant, his eyes constantly scanning the forest surrounding the shallow streambed. The others were barely remarkable, a combination of false bravado and paranoia had driven them to follow Adam into the shade. Every rustle, or small half caught movement had them react in an almost exaggerated manner, their spears constantly held tightly in two hands, one up one down, at waist height, swaying from side to side, as each new sound had them scrambling from threat to threat.
For the moment they were almost a burden, mild, yet growing panic made them fast, yet clumsy. Fast in that they responded quickly; well quickly to any perceived threat at least, and in an unfamiliar forest, with little sleep, and a known dangerous animal, they were well and truly out of their comfort zone. Truth be told so was Adam, he was only doing slightly better, due to his small amount of familiarity with the terrain. Conner, and Mark though… Well, they seemed to be doing suspiciously well. Whether it was something special, or just sheer self confidence in Conner’s case Adam wasn’t sure, maybe he had something to back it up, maybe he didn’t.
Mark on the other hand, well he’d clearly had some kind of training, his footing was immaculate. Even at points Adam only knew were dangerous through experience, he’d seemed to almost glide over them, his feet seemed to almost unerringly find only the most stable footing.
“Penny for them”. Conner’s voice broke Adam out of his reverie. It was with some surprise that he realized that he’d strayed almost a couple of hundred feet ahead of the rest of the group. Looking back, it seemed as if Mark had finally had enough, and was firmly instructing the rest of the group on how to use their spears.
“Oh, umm, nothing, thanks for getting me” He muttered quiet and subdued, after rejoining them he hesitated for a brief moment, wavering, then silently joined the rest of the group who were listening attentively to Mark.
Conner though, stood alone and to the side, a small smirk lying softly across his face, his eyes however were cold, the kind of eyes that judges, and finds one wanting.
Adam and the rest weren’t at it for long, merely a few minutes, Mark simply showed them how to take up a basic stance, feet spread to brace for impact, side facing forward along the shaft of the spear. This he told them would help protect them by minimizing target area, and would put more bone between anything and their organs.
They practiced moving quickly into stance only briefly, but the improvement was marked. Continuing onwards, the clay bank rising slightly, the vegetation though still sparse becoming denser the group reacted less, and less to any perception of threat. Confidence clearly growing somewhat a joke was even ventured to quite laughter followed by stony silence.
As they followed the streambed, much of the group’s tension slowly faded, and the beauty of where they were washed over them. Thin strands of creeper hung from the boughs of giant trees which overshadowed, and almost lined the small streambed. Upon these vines which grew small bulbs; thick rough and hairy they looked almost like a cross between a small onion and a coconut. Above they could hear the thin trilling of brightly colored and vibrant birds, accentuated by darting specks of ruby red and emerald blue.
The surroundings themselves were garbed in flecks of bright sunlight, shining through upon a dark and rich soil. Thick ferns grew in intermittent patches below the canopy, breaking a speckled brown with vivid outbursts of green. The trunks of the trees themselves, a mix of rich mahogany red, chocolate brown, and subtle ash and silver grey; on them grew small but riotous orchids of all colours in the spectrum, subdued violet in one outgrowth, sunny orange in another.
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The stream itself was crystal clear, small insects buzzed around some small curves in the stream where the current had cut small pools, barely a hands width wide, three at most into the lower banks. The water flowed over smooth rocks, which were mainly white and black, as well as rarer rocks of swirling vibrant greens and blues. A few of these were put aside in one of the improvised buckets, held over the shoulder with a strand of creeper attached through a hole hacked into the side of the bamboo.
Piecemeal they proceeded along the streambed, collecting curiosities, a few of the strangely coloured stones here, some bulbs there, a thin but long bundle segmented grass that one of the men swore blind was sugarcane. Small sounds sill had them on edge, but the earlier panic was clearly long past, spears might move rapidly at some sudden sound, but they stayed on point, moving constantly on along their route.
Finally they made it to the small pool where Adam had seen the beast the day before. The mists still coalesced around the azure waters, vines still clung and crept along mottled and mossy rocks.
Wearily the group eyed the thick surrounding vegetation, looking for the golden eyes among the saffron blooms, for the bulk of the beast amongst the dark and dense vegetation surrounding the pool.
They stood there for some time, eyes darting from bush to bush. Slowly though the tension faded from them, muscles tired from tension began to relax, the breath they’d all collectively been holding was finally released as they deflated slightly, bodies hunched slightly in relief. Mark was the first to recover, gradually straightening, and adopting a more relaxed posture. Conner took only a little less time, and began to prowl around the small oasis, his spear flicking leaves to the side, moving errant branches from the ground hugging bushes.
“Um, can I ask you something” One of the men said, timidly approaching Conner.
“Sure, but make it quick” Conner responded, barely looking up from what he was doing. The man, hesitated, slightly, then collecting himself “Uh what are you doing?”
Conner looked up at that, the contempt barely concealed within his eyes. “Well Adam reported some kind of massive beast at this location, so what do you think I’m doing” Turning his head he spat, the small ball of white phlegm landing right in front of the man’s feet.
The man stepped back his face bright red, and muttered something incoherently to himself. The rest of the small team rapidly followed Conner’s lead, prodding and poking around, while markedly avoiding eye contact.
It wasn’t long until they found something, well, more like several somethings. Paw prints for the most part, three hands lengths long and two wide, they were a source of considerable consternation for the group. Along with a large dung pile almost thirty feet out, which one of the more enthusiastic explorers had slipped in, and it was becoming increasingly clear that Adam’s story was absolutely confirmed.
Conferring quickly they began to retreat form the small oasis, once again tense, eyes darting from plant to plant, looking for the oncoming ambush, looking for an animal that could easily end their lives.
Moving back along the streambed the conversation was short and clipped. Responses terse, every eye watching the ferns, darting from tree to tree, Mark and Conner were on especially high alert, though they seemed to be more relaxed than the rest of the group. The only exception was the young man who’d interrupted Conner earlier. He, curiously was more focused on gathering the weird green rocks, even taking off his shirt turning it into some kind of makeshift bag, size and shape only seemed to affect his choice when they were clearly too heavy to carry.
The group tensed, coming to a quick halt as they heard rapidly approaching squealing, and branches breaking as something came charging through the undergrowth. The whole group quickly formed up, spears braced, and pointing waveringly towards the fast approaching noise.
Largish birds, hidden in the undergrowth burst into sudden flight, rapidly ascending out of the undergrowth to avoid the encroaching beasts.
Swine like animals burst through. Their hides’ dark mottled brown, with shimmering white tusks, and dark green scales enclosing their head, tapering off towards a point which flowed along the back of their spines. They were wild eyed with panic, terror evident in the way they ran, almost headless of any obstacle. Adam gulped, his life flashing in front of his eyes, nether the less the whole group kept their spears on point, just waiting, waiting for their end.
By some great good fortune the oncoming herd flowed around the group, some of them barely a hairs breadth from the small cluster of poorly equipped people.
As the herd rampaged passed Adam released a breath he barely knew he’d been holding, tension subtly faded slightly, as the imminent danger seemed gone.
“Eyes up” Conner snapped, he’d clearly noticed the brief lack of alertness, “We don’t know what spooked them, so pay some damn attention” There was no trace of humour in his voice, he was cold, detached even.
The small team began edging their way back west, eyes focused on the treeline on the southern bank, straining for anything, any hint of danger. It didn’t help that the sounds of the forest had stopped. No birds sang, the animals within the outgrowths of ferns and bush’s had gone silent; cold sweat drenched Adams back, his hands were clammy and cold, yet still he held his spear tightly, afraid even of the thought of letting it go.
It had barely been a minute, though it felt like hours, when they saw it; a sudden flash of sable black, darting in-between a pair of ash and silver trees, drawing every eye to it. Scrambling they turned their pathetic makeshift spears toward a true hunter of the forest. Even Mark seemed taken aback, his posture briefly betrayed a moment of uncertainty, before quickly snapping back into a well-rehearsed stance.
They regarded each other for what seemed like aeons. The beast, feline sleek and massive, golden iris’s regarding them dispassionately, with huge tusk like fangs curving substantively below its lower jaw. Its tail was flicking rapidly from side to side, scattering leaves in its wake.
It approached them slowly, then darted to one side; the whole group rapidly losing even a semblance of cohesion, as they all tried to get their spears between them and it.
It darted from side to side, again, and again, watching these small and curious creatures’ trip and tumble. Then it stopped, staying in place for only a brief moment, its head cocked in curiosity, before it turned and rapidly made it’s way back into the undergrowth.