Author's Note: Hello! Welcome to The Simian Forest! There will be more to come soon, I promise. For future reference:
"Sign language (ASL)."
"Speaking."
Dawn had passed. The sky was no longer milky and speckled with smears of golden-kissed clouds. Dreary grey puffs of precipitation dripped chilly sheets of rain, the cold water causing the young woman no worry as it dripped down her bronze skin. Krissa stopped to lace up her boot, her senses on high alert nonetheless. Since the apes had found the lake, her home had been completely invaded, and she had the unfortunate luck of having to go into hiding. She was unsure of how she had exactly done it, but somehow Krissa had managed to stay hidden from the large herd of primates, leaving her only a small amount of time to hunt and search for food. Thanking her lucky stars, she had managed to create a daily routine in order to avoid any sort of suspicious behavior, as well as tactical escape routes- although they were still a work in progress.
Having little luck with scavenging the shore this morning, she would have to resort to eating the jerky meat she had stored away. The young woman trudged uphill through the fronds and roots, taking to the upper slope. She walked along the edge, bow in hand, her quiver gently knocking against her back as she walked. She could feel her legs tremble as she walked; she had a low blood sugar, and thus Krissa knew that she needed to find sustenance soon. Krissa ran a hand through her disheveled, damp dark hair and peered skyward with curiosity, eyes narrowed against the harsh grey light.
One she returned to the bottom of the ditch, she took the path that lead her for another hour's walk. Krissa finally had returned to her little slope, slipping down the muddy surface. Fronds shifted and the soft hush of rain filled the entire simian forest. The dank scent of damp earth rose to her nostrils as she approached the small outcrop of rock, and the cave. There lay a log for sitting, an old camouflage blanket, and a small ring of stones for a fire. Inside the cave was a sleeping bag, a pillow, and a flashlight; the entire right wall was covered in dried flowers and herbs, as well as accompanied by a first-aid kit.
Krissa settled down on the log with a huff. Not far from her small, partially crater-like camp ran a stream which wound around the edge of the strange dip in the ground. The soft, spongy surface of the log felt homey and familiar beneath her dirt-encrusted fingers.
Relieving herself of her bow and quiver, she set it aside and took a moment to inspect her surroundings. Nothing had changed while she had been gone, thankfully. The babbling of the brook next to her brought her peace. From the satchel upon her side, she retrieved a smooth stone, which she had collected from the pebbly beach during her scavenging. Kris took to the cave, standing up upon sore legs. It had become something she was accustomed to now; reminding her that she was still alive. She knelt and took out her buck knife, beginning to chip away in order to create an arrow head. Krissa had successfully developed her own form of weaponry, and to her surprise, they worked very well! It had only taken, what? Two, three years?
Right, she was twenty-one now... What month was it now? July? August? What time? An hour or two after noon? Krissa's busy hands slowly stilled as she began to ponder further. Her chest was beginning to feel hollow; her tongue passed over her dry lips. Setting down the little task at hand, she reached into her back pocket and reached for the polished stone her father had found for her... at least, when he had still been alive. After catching the virus a second time, the disease had been far too much for him. He had gone insane, and attempted to kill Krissa. She had been forced to put him down.
His ring still hung around her neck, as well as the last arrowhead he had created in order to teach her the basic steps of crafting weapons. It had been small enough to attach to a piece of double-wound twine. Krissa had smoothed it down, and now kept the piece of slate around her neck in his memory, right next to both of her parents' wedding rings. A solemn sigh escaped her and she shook her head. No, she couldn't think of this now.
Where was the rock? She felt around, concerned now. Then, she began to panic. Where was it? Krissa poked around further, only to find that there was a decent-sized hole within it. Damnit, she must have torn her pocket while hopping over large pieces of driftwood at the south-end of the beach. "Fuck," she whispered, her chest tightening painfully. She was such an idiot! Krissa decided it would be best to search for it tomorrow...
The young woman reached inside of the cave and picked up her dirty clothes from the week before.
Ducking out from beneath the cave, she crossed over toward the brook and went to knelt next to it. Unfortunately, one of the goddamn pieces of clothing dropped on her way, and she had to turn back. Placing the heap down, she scoffed and crossed back up the slight slope, in order to fetch the stray shirt. The young woman knelt and picked it up, the worn fabric loose within her hand. She studied it for any sort of damage, relieved when she saw that it was perfectly fine. Christ, Krissa. You're always so jumpy, she thought. The femme rose to her feet, dusting off the shirt, and then began to turn to return to the bottom of the slope.
She paused, frowning. Krissa craned her neck and peered over her shoulder, finding something rather remarkable upon the top of the mossy outcrop just behind her. All of her dirty laundry, the arrowhead and her knife were now resting together on the drenched surface. She swallowed hard, her heart beginning to speed up. Krissa glanced around, completely on edge now; whoever it had been was most likely still nearby... but when she cautiously scanned her surroundings, she came up with nothing. They had vanished without a trace.
Hastily, the young woman crept over to the pile and began to pick up item by item. After she had finished, she allowed her hazel-green eyes to wash over everything once again. Something caught her eye. Settled within the ashes of the pit in the center of the camp was the stone she had lost at the beach. Relief washed over her, yet adrenaline kicked in. She quickly took the stone from the soot, apathetic to the dark smears of char upon her hands at this point; she then jogged down the slope and knelt by the river. She took only a few minutes to wash each one, doing a quick job rather than a thorough one.
Attempting to calm down, she scooped up a handful of water and splashed her sun-kissed complexion. Krissa then looked upon herself. Her wide green eyes stared out from taut bronze skin; freckles sprayed her nose and cheekbones. A scar ran down the side of her cheek, and her dark wavy hair, once cut, was tied back. Her raven locks had once been long and flowing, but after the apocalypse, her father had always taught her to keep her hair up off her shoulders in a choppy, messy cut. She looked like a rugged version of her mother, and she thanked god for that, for every time she looked at her reflection... she would see her. Krissa picked up her damp clothes and carried them back to the camp.
She needed to distract herself from the events. Perhaps her mind had simply tricked her into thinking she had gone all the way down the hill and back? Maybe she had simply brought the clothes with her and put them there? Well, then how could her favorite stone have gotten placed in the fire-pit? How could the arrowhead have made it to the same place; she distinctly remembered setting it down. Krissa took a deep breath. She would just have to keep an eye out from now on... vigilance was key- it she caught them in the act, she could kill them and end this mischief before it got out of hand.
Kris woke up the next morning with a jolt, her father's crossbow within her hands feeling heavy as the butt of the weapon pressed into her gut. She shifted, grumbling and sighed, shutting her eyes further. It was raining again, as if it hadn't stopped all night. Birds chirruped and shrieked and chattered up above her, completely unaware of the struggling going on below. Earth had become so serene; so peaceful. Now that humans were practically wiped out? It was incredible. She was so happy... Dreamily, she smiled, watching as the rain dripped from the top of the mouth of her little shelter. Wrapped tightly within her sleeping bag, she observed the beautiful before her with admiration.
After a nice long stretch, she sighed and paused before unzipping the bedding and removing herself from its shell. Her eyes adjusted to the light as she went outside, the brightness a bit harsh for her sleep-deprived eyes. Krissa stretched and rolled her shoulders. Extending her arms, she laced her fingers together and turned her palms outward, her body going rigid as she rose up onto her tiptoes. Her body vibrated in a delicious strain, waking her muscles up from their drowsy state.
The young woman then knelt, beginning to perform a series of stretches before shifting into full push-ups. She proceeded until her arms and legs burned, and her core was stiff. There was the sudden overwhelming urge to look up, and thus the young woman froze. Her entire body turned rigid, holding herself up with great strife to a point where her entire being began to tremble.
Was she losing her mind just as her father had? Slowly, she shifted to her knees, then brought her head up as cautiously as possible. What she saw nearly gave her a heart attack. Krissa's eyes were as wide as dinner plates as she looked upon a rather large simian, spear in one hand, the other rested upon it's thigh. Its eyes- very human, were dark amber, rusty tones highlighted in the sun that was beginning to leak through the trees.