The SteelPile stretched out before Jahwan, mere minutes away on foot. And yet the truth of what a SteelPile meant was so much more than scrap. Danger lurked in the SteelPile. All steel piles. It was a refuge from the sun during the day, often one of the few spots that had something other than sand for the first five feet of topsoil. And because of this... Creatures lived there. Sometimes you would get lucky and find a pill mole. These little buggers we're barely larger than a hamster, a bit timid, but also tameable. Not a lot of food, but some could get by with a farm of them on their rig. Jahwan preffered bigger creatures. Not too much bigger. But something usually above ground as well. Though supposedly if he could find insects it may help his septic tank.
Going up the ramp he looked over to a case he kept just over the exit, almost out of reach, his fingers pressed on a clasp, with a pop the locker opened, it was set longways on the wall, and once opened, the door flopped downwards, a ramp all it's own, just long enough to seem like a large toothpick dispenser, but without the height to hold more than three. However instead of even three, it only held one. The spear that was made for Jahwan with his grandfather help. He remembered the day they forged it. But now was not the time. Now was time to hunt and scavenge.
Jahwan grabbed the spear, a solid thick pole of steel, the tip smashed flat, molded into a spearhead, and hammered to a fine edge, before being sanded to show the shine of the metal along the edge, almost like a sword of two metals. The spear tip was meant for stabbing, slashing, and the shaft could be used for mild blunt damage. The spear itself was just barely taller than jahwan, but it's versatility was unmatched. It might not be all that bendy, or even springy, but it was solid and sturdy, which meant a lot against most beasts.
Checking his belt loops to make sure he still had his welder, and hefting the spear over his shoulder, Jahwan took his first step of the day towards the steel pile, looking to all the world like a self assured hunter.... Until he stopped five steps from the ramp, looked back, and saw his mobile cart still strapped in the belly of the Narwhal. With a self deprecating sigh, he defeatedly trudged back up the ramp, dragging the butt of his spear.
Twenty minutes later however, Jahwan BURST down the ramp, one foot on the back of the cartsledge, the wheels that were just inside of some steel sleigh tracks retracting with the pull of a cable, latching it in place and clasping it closed. His momentum carried him forward for a good fifteen feet. And then physics reasserted itself like a cranky old man with kids sledding in his yard. After that, just like in simile, all sledding stopped.
Jahwan crumpled backwards, his entire body language simply groaning at the unfairness of life as he got off the back of the sledgecart and started to push. This was nothing like that time up north when they had created a rise and found a SteelPile downhill. Of course he also knew he'd be having a bitch of a problem just like back then if he got a load of steel and had to push it's fat ass back UP an incline, but on the way down he wanted to enjoy himself. Though also of note was that time they had been able to have his grandpa hold it in place while he ran for the tow cable. After that they both just sat on the sledgecart as it was pulled back to the narwhal. But they still had to push it halfway up the hill first. That was before he got the extension cable installed. He reminded himself to return up there sometime for steel and meat. Yes. Steel and meat. Nothing more.
Jahwan kept an eye out as he got closer to the SteelPile, his spear in a special quick release holster on his back, able to drop it out and bring it around in a diagonal upwards slashing motion to draw his weapon if need be. With the barest thunk, the sledgecart was resting beside a girder, laid out in all it's mildly rusted glory. There wasn't much in the way of water on the outskirts of any SteelPile, though some occasionally held such treasures deeper within. Often times it was the center of some mean beasties territory. But the tell tale signs of a watering hole or beasts territory we're relatively clear. Scrape marks and lots of rust. Either one were good indicators of where a smart scavenger should stop.
Jahwan was on the hunt for prime steel, but that basically meant the entire SteelPile. So he pulled out his welder, barely thirty minutes from the Narwhal, as he'd had to hunt for a piece that wasn't part of supporting another, before he started harvesting. Turning on the welder he went to work. The process of cutting through the girders was slow work, and one always needed to be aware of their surroundings. Though some scavengers went for standing girders instead and cut them down like trees, climbing up, attaching a belt around a portion, and then cutting halfway up to let the loose bit fall to be gathered much easier. But that took relatively special equipment. Of which the Narwhal currently did not have.
Jahwan was half way through the girders when he heard a skittering sound, nothing large, certainly not dangerous. But always important. These were arguably the most important creature for a scavenger to know of. Simply called the Skitters, these were packlike little mammalian creatures. Fluffballs with snouts and eight short little legs that kept them from sinking into the sand. They also had claws to grapple across various surfaces, but they weren't very sharp, kind of like a sloth. Long claws, very little purpose outside climbing. Most everything that existed was simply another thing to climb on for them. It was all surface to them. And while they themselves we're nothing to worry about, it's their actions that were important to note.
Skitters would congregate around most creatures that weren't necessarily hostile, they were very curious little fuzzballs, and this meant that so long as he heard skittering, his local area was safe. Even as the welder hissed through the steel girder, the background of little scratches was a melody of peace and safety. Its when the skittering STOPS, that you need to worry. Many smaller creatures, carnivores included, ignore Skitters. It was the larger beasts that preyed on them all. As such, Skitters were great warning signs for the entire lower layer of the ecosystem when big creatures were coming. But not all. Oh no...
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The ecosystem of a SteelPile was usually different, somehow most still had Skitters. The ones that didn't had no lower ecosystem. There were only big creatures, and deadlier areas. Even the herbivores that made up the lowest rung were extremely hostile towards others. But in some SteelPile the Skitters had a symbiotic relationship with one credit that was considered the Big Brother. Though the Skitters were little eight legged fuzzballs with snouts, and mostly ate moss and various other forms of vegetation, and even cleaned other creatures, there was the nigh alpha of any low tier SteelPile. The Prowler. This big beastie was like saying that Skitters were the youngest child of a mafia household, and the Prowler was a Hitman to protect them. The Prowler was a six legged scaled beast, with a very snaggle toothed crocogator appearance, having both sets of teeth jutting outside the mouth in what seemed to be random order.
Some poor scavenger somewhere likely had figured it out, but in doing so lost it's life. They were antisocial towards humans. You could pass by on the other side of a street and be fine, but if it seemed there were a chance of accidentally touching the Prowler, you'd be dead before you knew it. Low to the ground, but with stubby legs and claws of it's own, it was a very capable creature, getting around the SteelPile was no issue for this creature. Its skeleton was supposedly flexible, stories told of how a Prowler would disappear down a path too narrow for it's body like a snake. The other defining feature was the tusks and horn on it's snout. One central horn, and two downward facing tusks. They weren't all that long, due to otherwise dragging across the sand, but it was larger than it's other teeth.
With a dull think the girder fell, cleanly cut through by Jahwan. The skittering in the background grew. Louder as the Skitters seemed to grow excited. They seemed to have short attention spans, or maybe long attention spans and short memories. Watching Jahwan shift and push the hunk of steel onto his sledge was apparently a high point of entertainment for well over thirty Skitters, all lined up along crooked girders.
Once he had finished heaving the steel into place he pulled it around and started to push it out of the way before he heard it; a deep reverberating sound, almost like if a giant were snoring. With a slow glance back he saw that the girder had apparently blocked a hole in the ground. Within he saw a pair of yellow slit pupil iris'. With great care and trepidation, he leaned backwards against the sledge, slowly pushing it back the way he came. The gentle "shhhhhhhhhf" of the sledge sliding over sand a gentle counterpoint to the "ticca ticca ticca" of many skitter claws. As he backed away, the now lighter leftover section of girder shifted as two tusks and a horn appeared in the slowly dying light, followed by a great green snout. Two slit nostrils opened and then closed with a heavy breathed snort.
A gentle "tump, tump, tump" could be heard coming from behind the deep rumble that seemed to focus around the eyes. Slowly it moved forward as a reptilian head nudged the remainder of the girder to the side with a bit of effort. This Prowler seemed to only be about an adolescent, but it was still large enough to be able to take off Jahwans leg. Though something the size of three chickens could probably take off Jahwans leg too. Like an ostrich. If those even still existed.
The rumbling growl of the Prowler grew louder, and with every step out of the previously blocked burrow, Jahwan took two. Barely keeping pace with the monster even as it seemed to not be making any direct, hostile actions. Merely a warning. It's body was nearly halfway out, 10 feet of long sinuous muscled midrift was revealed to the twilight as the Prowler left the den. Two sets pf legs now visible. Jahwan kept backing up, nervous sweat sliding down the side of his goggles. His welder at his belt loop, forgotten since he returned it to move the girder. His spear held in it's holster, useless against even an adolescent.
Jahwan knew his life was hanging by a thread, if the Prowler wanted dhim dead, one twist of it's body, and it could launch like a snake and snap him in two. So he kept pace, trying to give it space, and in doing so, keep his life. The Skitters seemed to be in a frenzy, of rage, of joy, Jahwan wasn't caring enough to figure it out, his entire being focused on the death in front of him. And then all hell broke loose and terror threatened to overhwelm him as the Skitters flooded into the small clearing, running over his sledge, his girder, each other, and then him. A tidal wave of feet and grasping little dulled claws appeared and dissapeared in his vision. Almost against his will he noticed some had teets, must have been a pregnant skitter he mused, even as his mind focused on the gaps gap between Skitters to keep the Prowler in his vision.
Then it was over, the Skitters had passed him, a surge of fur and snouts broke against the wall that was the Prowler, a rock that would never break as it's last two legs exited the den, and then it was covered in Skitters. They slowly nudged and climbed over one another looking for anywhere they could get to on the Prowler. Even as it whipped it's long tail out of the den, an appendage that was one third of it's body length, and easily able to wrap around a creature and crush it like an anaconda. And yet the Skitters held onto it's scaled hide effortlessly, even as it lashed it's tail back forth in what seemed an impatient gesture. The Skitters were no longer anywhere but on the Prowler, and some dim part of jahwans mind questioned how close a relationship these two species had.
Once the Skitters all settled into place on the Prowler, a harmonized keening cry rang out and they began to shake with abandon on the Prowler. The sound would have been adorable, like if a cartoon potbellied pig had tried to sing. But the situation was not one where Jahwan could appreciate the sound of a hundred or more Skitters all crying out in unison. The twisting and shaking of the fuzzballs on the Prowler made it look ridiculous, like it had a fur coat that was pretending to be in a washing machine. Jahwan steadily continued to step backwards, pushing the sledge. The sound of the Prowler a rumbling baseline under the "KEEEEEEEEE" singing of many Skitters.
Suddenly it was over. The Skitters dispersed towards the surrounding girders, leaving behind only one skitter, snuffling at what looked to be the green skin of the prowler. Except now instead of green, it was a deep dusky blue. Had it just been covered in moss or mold? Jahwan was unsure of what had happened. But the prowlers eyes never left Jahwan the entire time it had apparently been cleaned. It took one last look at him, snorted dismissively, and slither walked out in a gap between leaning girders. Jahwan was confused, and exhausted, the nervous energy having dissipated when the Prowler had left. He then gathered what was left of his wits, grabbed the sledge, and pushed, it was time to get the hell out of the steel pile. A near run in with a prowler and he lived? Any more would be pushing his luck. He could hunt tomorrow. He had plenty of food still, and needed to make a few traps too for some passive hunting.
Jahwan had just got the sledge back in as night truly fell. Gazing back upon the SteelPile he wondered just how close to death he had truly been. Had he lived because he had freed it? Or had only the grace of the cleaning skitter been what kept him from a gruesome death by accidentally breaking the cover of it's den? He was unsure. But he felt like it had been stuck for a while based on changing color during the Skitters acts. Truly the world was still full of mysteries.