Ok, so this is way overdue. Life has been beyond hectic on this deployment, and that combined with a fair amount of writers block, this took a lot longer than I wanted. I think I wrote and rewrote the first few paragraphs about a dozen times in as many days, and just couldn't get into the groove of it. But I finally managed to hit my rhythm, and so here ya'll go.
Also, this is a pretty long chapter. Damn near twice as long as the last. Consider it a slight compensation for taking so long.
It really was an ugly animal. Squat, fat, with an elongated snout, and long tusks hanging down from it's upper jaw. I'd assumed the creature was a pig when I'd first seen one almost three months ago, but after reading the journal, and seeing the beast in person, it was more like a mini elephant, though the trunk was far shorter. I'd seen a few of the bulky beasts before, but this was the first time I'd specifically gone after one to hunt. The author of the journal called the creature a Phiomia, and suspected that their only role in the ecosystem was as a food source for the insane number of predators on the island.
I inched forward through the brush, mindful of my steps. The creature was maybe 20 yards away, and still blissfully unaware of my presence. Though fat, I'd seen the creatures move, and chasing the elephant pig would prove to be more of a hassle than I wanted to deal with. Besides, why work harder when you can work smarter? A low noise came from my side, almost subaudible, and I held a hand out slightly, making a small sound in my throat. The noise ended abruputly, and I continued forward slowly, my bow held low in my hand.
It took another few minutes, but I finally managed to get within my already poor bow range. Kneeling slowly, I drew an arrow from its quiver, and knocked it. I waited patiently until the beast turned, sniffing at the dirt, exposing it's fat neck and side. Slowly, I drew back the string, and aimed down the shaft. As I exhaled, I could feel my heartbeat in my chest, and between one beat and the next, I released the arrow. It flew true, or at least as true as I could manage, and sunk cleanly into the soft folds of the creatures neck. It reacted immediately, letting out a squealing scream as it started to run, trampling the low brush under its feet.
"Go." I said, and the shadow beside me leapt into action.
I'd never had a cat growing up. My mother was allergic, so we always had dogs instead. With dogs, and I imagine cats as well, a pup takes almost a year to get to the gangly size of almost full grown, but still needs another year at most to fill in completely. Shira, who was easily the size of a puppy when I found her, took far less time. I mean, I was dealing with a prehistoric beast, so maybe it's the nature of their species, or it could be something to do with this remarkably strange island. I don't know, but what I did know is that it didn't take two years for Shira to get to be full grown.
It took her two months.
I estimated her weight at about 1200 pounds, and her shoulders were damn near the same height as my own. Despite her size, she was remarkably silent when hunting, swiftly moving through the underbrush with barely a whisper of sound. It was actually quite humbling, not to mention terrifying. A creature from another age, a predator unrivaled in its weight class. I was damn well glad she was on my side.
Shira darted forward in an instant, powerful legs pumping as it quickly closed the distance. Moving with a nimble grace, she casually jumped to the peak of a jutting rock formation, and leapt onto the moving elephant pigs back. The creature managed to let out another squeal, before Shira locked her jaws on the back of it's neck, and with one vicious, cracking shake of her head, the hunt was over.
I followed the path Shira had taken casually, slinging my bow over my back in a familiar motion. The big cat stepped back from the Phiomia, and settled back on her haunches to start grooming her fur with her tongue. I smiled at her as I reached the dead animal, and she purred in response, slanted eyes meeting mine, before continuing her cleaning.
Crouching down, I yanked the arrow from the creatures neck, and replaced it in my quiver, before putting my fingers to my lips and letting out a piercing whistle. Shira eyed me again, a low growl sounding in her throat. I eyed her right back.
"Big baby. It wasn't that loud." I said to her. The big cat growled again, deeper, before returning to her grooming.
I smiled as I inspected the kill. As usual, I was constantly amazed by how intelligent the cat was. At this point, if she started speaking back to me, I don't think I'd be too shocked. As it was, the interactions we had were clearly understood. To me, Shira wasn't a pet, she was my friend. I couldn't tell for sure if she felt the same way, but I suspected that was the case. I was her packmate, her partner. I'd saved her life, and she knew it, and respected me for it.
Or at least that's what I hoped was the case.
The ground rumbled, and I heard brush and small trees snap. Standing, I turned, and smiled again as Sara lumbered through the forest. The huge trike snorted in greeting, tossing her head back in what I'd come to understand as a sign of affection. She slowed as she reached me, and as usual, I petted her nose as I walked by, eliciting a purr from deep in her massive chest. Gripping one of her spikes casually, I guided her to the dead Phiomia's side, and after some work, managed to heft the beast onto Sara's back, securing the kill down with rope. Once done, I clicked my tongue, and started back, Sara lumbering along behind me, and Shira disappearing into the brush. I wouldn't see her, but I knew she'd be close. Maybe I should have named the cat Shadow instead.
We were close to the edge of the forest, so it only took a few minutes of walking to end up at the shoreline of the river. From there, we headed south, following the edge of the river, until the tower came into sight. A lot had changed since the first time I'd seen the place I'd eventually call home. At the base of the trail leading up the tower was another gate, secured in place by two logs sunk in the same manner as the first. The open side of the trail sported a half finished fence made of stout branches sharpened to points. It was my current project I'd been working on for the last few days, and I estimated another week before it would be completed to my satisfaction.
After leading Sara through the gate, I whistled, and waited a moment for Shira to amble out of the brush, and swiftly make her way across the sand and onto the trail. She walked gracefully past me, a soft purr coming from her chest as she approached. I lazily held out a hand, and as she passed, she brushed against it, her purr growing deeper. I smiled, before securing the hasp for the gate and continuing up. After passing through and securing the second gate, we finally reached the top, and as usual, I paused to appreciate the view of my hard work.
When I'd estimated a month at least for constructing my cabin, I'd taken a lot of different things into consideration. Finding the right sized trees, cutting and stripping them, hauling them, edging the corners, not to mention the actual effort of lifting them into place. Too, I'd had to consider the wear and tear on my axe, the effort all the work would have on my body, and the time I'd have to work with. I figured a month was the absolute quickest I could go, and it would likely kill me to get it done in that time.
I was wrong on pretty much all counts.
I'd started working on the cabin immediately after I'd finished the axe, and I have to say, I don't think I've ever had a project go so smoothly. Finding the trees turned out to be simple, just because there were so damn many of them so close to my tower. Finding trees of relative equal size was a breeze, and with the axe, cutting them down and stripping them turned out to be fairly simple. Sara made short work of hauling them, proving once again that size really does matter. Lifting them into place wasn't necessarily easy, but it wasn't as difficult as I anticipated either, due to a combination of physics, the massive tree next to the cabin, and Sara's strength.
Then there was the axe. Based on what I knew of forging, and metal in general, I'd believed the metal to be Iron, which wasn't exactly a far stretch. Iron is the most common metal on earth, so it was an easy conclusion to jump to. After using the axe for as long as I had, I didn't believe that any more. In fact, the way the axe maintained it's edge and durability, even after so much abuse, I wasn't even sure if the metal was something on the periodic table. Iron may be common, but it makes for a fairly poor tool, due to it's relative softness. That's why steel is used instead, an alloy of Iron and Carbon. The process I used to craft the axe head had the benefit of turning iron into a very mild steel, which would work as a fairly basic tool, albeit one that I'd have to sharpen often. I'd expected to have to sharpen the axe every night after only a few trees, but to my utter surprise, the tool remained sharp, despite the abuse.
That baffled me to no end. Even hardened steel from a legitimate blacksmith couldn't maintain an edge that long. There's no crafting ability on earth that would allow it to retain it's shape after that much work. Yet somehow, despite the impossiblity of it, the blade remained true, and while I couldn't explain it, I also couldn't complain about it, since it drastically cut my time and effort down. The only issue I'd encountered so far with the tool had actually happened only a few days earlier, where the handle snapped after a particularly hearty blow to a branch. It had taken me a few hours to craft a new handle for it, but I managed just fine. The journal proved to have little answers, so I settled with knowing how this metal worked, and accepted the small miracle.
I'd utilized clay as a sealing agent between the logs. The creek turned out to be a benefit in that regard, since clay is generally fairly prominant near waterbeds. Digging down only a few feet provided me with plenty, and I added a layer between every log, providing a fairly decent seal. It wouldn't be perfect, but fortunately it'd do the job just fine. Measuring anything out here is pretty approximate. I used rope a lot, and my own body as reference. For simplicity sake, I cut a length of rope down to the size of my foot, and that measurement was, you guessed it, a foot. Using that was a reference, my cabin was about 10 feet by 16 feet, with a wall in the middle to seperate it into two rooms. Crafting a door had been an interesting challenge, but I'd managed to hew down a few logs into relatively equal sized planks, and crafted a makeshift door with a hasp on either side to keep it in place. It wasn't pretty, but it provided a modicrum of safety and comfort, and wasn't that the important part?
Next, with the walls complete, and a door on it, I started working on the floor. Having learned a few lessons with creating the door, I was able to cut out even more planks. I'd thought of just leaving the floor as dirt, like the cabin I'd found, but decided against it. With a plank floor, It'd be more comfortable and homely, and I desperately wanted that. I'd planned ahead, and when doing the first four logs to be the walls, I had placed logs every foot in the dirt going from wall to wall, in preperation for planks to be laid out on them. Now that it was time for that, I cut and laid out planks over the entirety of the floor, until I was satisified that every gap was filled. Then it was another forging adventure, and I spent a day crafting nails to use to secure the planks down. It was a fairly boring experience, but the end result more than made up for it. The floor was solid, if not hardwood smooth, and I was happy with it.
When I'd first finished the roof, I'd used thatch to cover it. Since I finished the job much faster than I expected, I decided to finish the roof with tile instead, like the cabin I'd discovered in the woods. As vicious as it might seem, I knew the previous occupant of the cabin wasn't going to mind me taking the tiles off, so I spent a day making trips back and forth between my tower and the cabin, hauling as many tiles as I could. Half the roof had been destroyed by whatever beast had attacked him, but it still saved me a fair amount of work, and I was able to copy the design of the tiles with my own clay. I'd never thought my 9th grade pottery class would eventually be a part of saving my life, but damned if I wasn't wrong about that. I bet Mrs. Sanders would be so proud.
I created a kiln out of mud and clay, and spend weeks creating tiles, drying them next to fires, before firing them in the kiln, and finally placing them on the roof. If not for the tiles I'd taken from the other cabin, it likely would have taken a whole extra month to do them all, but since I was already able to cover half the roof with the tiles, it only took me about three weeks to complete. Below the tiles, I'd layered the roof with branches, packed as tightly together as I could manage. Before laying down each line of tiles, I'd layer the branches in that line with even more clay, before settling the tiles on top of them, providing a makeshift, but functional, sealant.
When I'd finally completed the roof, I'd stood back and just started at the creation I'd made, and cried quietly in pure joy. It had ended up taking close to two months, but if I'd chosen to keep using the stone hatchet, it probably would have doubled, or even trippled that timeframe. The cabin wasn't pretty per se, but it was sealed, quiet, and in my eyes, one of the most perfect sights I'd seen. It was perfect.
That had been two weeks ago. Since completing the cabin, I'd made one more trip to the other cabin, this time with Sara, and hauled back the table, chair, and cabinet. I figured there was no point in recreating work if I already had it available. I did, however, create my own bedframe, and stuffed the mattress bag full of moss and soft leaves, creating a comfortable, if lumpy, bed. In one corner of the cabin, I'd left a space open with dirt still visible, and I'd spent a few days making a fireplace similiar to the other cabin's, with stones taken from the beach.
Sealing it would have been a problem, if not for the wonderful journal, and a hefty amount of luck. I had quickly run through the grey sealing material the journal called cememnting paste while making the fireplace, and was debating using clay for the rest of the sealing need, but upon reading the passage on the paste again, I noticed something I'd missed before. The paste was most effective using the Chitin found on the nightmare insects on the island, but there was another substance that could be used, called Keratin. Enter, my insane luck. I'd felt terrible about killing the poor anklysaur on the mountain, but I'd still collected an entire bag full of the spiky protrusions on it's body. My plan had been to use them for defense, or maybe a kind of makeshift weapon, but it turned out that the spikes were made of 100% pure, clean keratin. After following the process in the journal, I was able to make more than enough cemementing paste to finish the fireplace, and even had enough left over to refill the jar I'd emptied.
I may not believe in a higher power, but damn, sometimes I think maybe I should.
I led Sara to an open space in front of the cabin, and spent a minute untying the Phiomia, before dropping it gracelessly to the ground. I clicked my tongue, and Sara snorted softly, before wandering off to graze on the fresh grass of the hilltop. Shira had settled herself down in her usual spot beneath the massive tree as I entered my home to drop off my bag and bow. I returned to the kill, and spent the rest of the day dressing the creature. I skinned it, taking advantage of the obsidian knife, and chopped through the meat with ease thanks to my axe. This was my first big kill since being on the island, and I was looking forward to eating actual meat, instead of the fish I'd grown accustomed to. It had been years since I'd dressed a kill, but I found that I still remembered enough to complete the job fairly quickly.
A concern I'd had with hunting was where to store the meat. The journal provided a design for a smoking box to turn meat into jerky, but I wanted to store the meat over a longer term, and since a refridgerator was somewhat out of the question, I needed another solution. As with some of the best ideas, mine came at a random time. As I'd been out collecting berries, I'd stopped by the stream next to my tower for a drink of the cold water there, and it hit me. I decided I was going to make a sealed box that would stay in the river. The water must flow from the snow peaked mountain close to my tower to the west, as the water was damn near ice cold, and would hopefully work to keep the meat from spoiling until I could dry it all into jerky.
The issue I'd encountered was how to seal it. I figured I could make a ceramic container out of clay, but without a way to seal the top, it would have to remain above the waterline, and the smell would attract scavengers quickly. If I kept it completely below water, it needed to be watertight. I'd decided on going with a solution that wasn't great, but would do in the short term until I could think of something else. I'd made a ceramic box, along with a lid. Once the box was full, I'd seal the lid on it with cementing paste, thus making it waterproof, and secure it below the waterline with rocks. I'd have to break the container open when I wanted more meat, which means I'd have to create a new container each time, but I figured if I cooked a good amount now, I'd have a few days to create the smoking box, and hopefully turn a good chunk of the meat into jerky for a longer shelf life.
After filling the container to it's brim, I sealed it off with the lid, and left it so the cementing paste could harden, which took about an hour by my count. I still had plenty of meat left over, so after disposing of the remains over the side of the tower, I hauled the meat and skin inside, and started cooking. I hadn't managed to forge out a makeshift grill yet, but I had a large, flat rock that I had settled into the fireplace, and after I had a fire going, I settled pieces of meat onto it to cook, and started working on a wooden frame for the hide I'd collected. I'd need to stretch the skin over the frame, and leave it to dry for a few days, but then I'd have a relatively decent leather substitute, and could potentially make some better clothes than I had. I was definitely looking forward to that.
I heard a scratching at the door, and I smiled slightly to myself as I stood. Opening the door, Shira delicately slipped inside, looking completely indifferent to me. It would have been more convincing, if I couldn't see her nose twitching at the smell of the fresh meat. I grabbed a plate from the cabinet, and piled a decent mount of meat onto it for her, before settling it on the floor for her. Shira's tail flicked once, before she settled down on her hind legs and dug in. The big cat usually disappeared at night to hunt for herself, but apparently she wasn't going to bother if food was provided for her. I'd have to be mindful of that.
"You wouldn't make a very good hunting partner if you get fat." I teased quietly.
Shira's tail flicked again, but she otherwise didn't react. Typical cats.
Settled in by the quiet crackling of the fire, we sat in companiable silence. I stored the cooked food in another ceramic container, and hoped that it wouldn't spoil too fast. The meat was tender, if fairly tasteless, but it was still delicious compared to three months worth of fish. If I could have a beer along with it, I'd probably cry again.
Cry again. God, I have cried a lot since I've been here, haven't I? When did I get to be such a pansy?
It took about an hour to cook all the meat, but once done, I stashed the container in my cabinet, then went back outside to bring the sealed container down to the river. I'd preplaced rocks in a portion of the river, and I spent a few minutes securing more rocks around and over the container. The water was freezing in the evening air, and I quickly finished, before rushing back up to my cabin and settling back before the fire.
In the morning, I'd start working on the smoking box, and get some jerky going. I'd have to figure out a way to get salt for the task, but I was hoping that the ocean down the river was saltwater. If so, I could potentially figure out a way to produce salt from it. Small comforts would make all the difference out here, and I was definitely ready for some kind of comfort. I considered the issue as I got myself ready for bed, and had a few ideas already as I settled back onto my mattress. As usual, my mind raced with a dozen different things that I wanted to do, but between the full belly of meat and the general exhaustion of the day, sleep came along quickly.
When dawn broke, I forced myself out of bed and zombie shuffled around my cabin for a few minutes, waiting for the haze of sleep to wear off. I swear, if I managed to find coffee beans out here, my priority was going to shift immediately to planting and farming them. I'd kill for a cup of coffee in the morning.
Without traditional coffee, I had to go with virgin coffee. Real easy to make, virgin coffee. You just take water, and don't add anything. Definitely not as satisfying, but if I imagined really, really, REALLY hard, I could make myself believe it was coffee.
No, not really. It was just water. Dammit.
According to the journal, the smoking box was most effective with a solid wood, ideally oak, so I set out to find some. I left Sara at the tower, but Shira shadowed me like usual as I set off down the river, my bow over my shoulder, eyes scanning for what I needed. If I could find the wood I needed, I'd return to the tower to get Sara before felling it. Sara was great, but not exactly fast, and I didn't take her along unless I needed her to haul something back home.
I needed to see if the ocean water was saltwater anyways, so we headed north up the river. As usual, Shira had disappeared into the forest, but I knew she was close. I passed a few of the massive turtles, and even saw a long necked Galimimus trotting along easily across the river. A single compy ran up to me at one point, but I kicked the little scavenger away, and it retreated back into the forest. It took about ten minutes of walking to reach the mouth of the river, and I easily recognized the spot of sand where I'd woken up. I shuddered slightly at the memory, but continued on, making my way to the beach.
Once there, I tasted the water, spitting it out immediately with a smile. Saltwater. Excellent. Across the water, I could still see the small island, though I noticed the red beacon was gone from the last time I'd seen it. I stared at the island as I spit some more, trying to get the salty taste out of my mouth. I could see movement, but it was too far away to make out any details. Something told me that island was important, though I couldn't tell why I'd think that. For whatever reason though, I knew, not just suspected, but knew that I had to go there.
Lost in thought, I almost didn't notice the hairs on the back of my neck rising. Warily, I started scanning my surroundings. Something had my instincts triggered, though I couldn't tell what. My hand moved of it's own accord, and I unslung my bow from my shoulder, still searching the area. I didn't see anything out of the ordinary, and I couldn't figure out why I felt like I did.
A scream split the quiet air, and I definitely didn't jump like a little girl in surprise. Nope, stone cold over here.
My head snapped to the sound as my heartrate suddenly quadrupled. I quickly drew an arrow and nocked it, drawing it back to my cheek just as the brush seperated, and a woman rushed out. She looked haggard, wild even. Her black hair was a tangled mess, with leaves and moss adorning it like a messy crown, and she looked like she'd been rolling in dirt for the last two days, before performing a belly flop into mud. She was completely naked, though details were hard to notice through the muck.
Her gaze met mine, and she rushed to me immediately. I frowned, but released the tension on the bowstring slowly, rushing forward to her, her eyes crazed in what seemed to be fear.
"Help me. Please help me!" She babbled almost incoherently, rushing into my arms. I tried to juggle the sudden impact with the bow, but the motion surprised me too much, and my bow dropped as I gripped her in steady hands.
"Hey, hey, it's ok. Calm down." I told her, as I gripped my hands on either shoulder. "You're ok. It's ok."
Her gaze went to mine, and I frowned as my eyes met hers. The wild fear I'd seen before had seemed to disappear, and all I could see was a calm determination.
"Is it though?" She asked quietly, voice suddenly steady. I frowned deeper.
"What..." I started to say, but I was rudely interrupted by a sudden slamming pain in my right shoulder. I grunted in pain and surprise as I was thrown forward by the impact, the woman stepping gracefully out of my path as I collapsed to my knees in the sand, teeth clenched in pain.
I jerked my head up to meet her gaze, and she smiled almost sweetly at me. It took my agony adled mind a second to recognize the sudden sounds coming from behind me, and I twisted my head to see three men walking calmly through the sand to me. They were all dressed similarly, a combination of cloth and leather clothes. The man in the middle held a crossbow in steady hands, and beneath the wild hair and beard that adorned his face, I could see beady, black eyes that gleamed. His face was stoic, a drastic difference to the men on either side of him, who both sported sadistic grins. To his left was a gangly man, with a spotty beard and dirty red hair. The man on his right was bigger, and fairly ugly, with a wide mouth and a huge nose.
They reached me in seconds, and the middle man nodded easily at the woman.
"Excellent work Akari." He said calmly, his voice deep, gravelly. She smiled at him in return, but didn't answer.
I groaned as my mind worked through what had happened.
"She was a feint. Get me to drop my guard, concern for fellow human and all that. Vicious." I said to myself. The man grunted in answer. I groaned, and twisted, sitting myself on the sand heavily. My bow was easily within reach, but the man already had another arrow on his crossbow. There was no way I could grab it and shoot before he could.
"You must be new. Hardly anyone falls for that anymore." The ugly man said, grinning viciously.
I eyed him, frowning.
"Suppose you're right." I said. "Course, I imagine you smelled me a mile out."
That wiped the grin from his face. The man growled, then lashed out, kicking me squarely in the face, shoving me back. I grunted at the pain of it, but compared to the agony of my shoulder, it was nothing. I spat a few times to the side, saliva mixed with blood, and met his gaze again with a smile of my own.
"You're right, that was rude. I'd say I have a big mouth, but that seems a bit insensitive."
The man growled again, even as the redhead snorted out a short laugh. Nose glared at the other man, who covered his mouth with a hand.
The bearded man held out a hand, still stoic. "Enough." He said. "We've got him. He can joke all he likes. He's ours now."
"Like hell I am." I growled to the man, meeting his glare with my own. The redhead laughed again, cocky in his confidence. I tried to match his laugh with another insult, but I felt sluggish, slow. The pain in my shoulder pulsed, and a sudden thought struck me. The pain was focused on the point where I imagined a crossbow bolt was stuck in me, but I could feel a heat radiating from the wound.
And it was spreading outward.
Shit.
"Narcotic?" I asked wearily. Even speaking felt wrong, like trying to talk with my mouth full. My tongue was dry, and didn't want to move right.
The bearded man nodded. "Like I said." He said quietly. "Ours now."
I gritted my teeth, trying to fight the rising panic in my chest. I struggled to lift myself from the seated position I was in, but between the weakness and the sudden shaking of my limbs, I only managed to fall back to my ass heavily, eliciting another laugh from the idiot brothers.
"What are you trying to do?" Nose asked, laughing. "Think you can run from us now?"
I met his eyes, and despite the pain, the spreading heat, and the panic in my chest, I couldn't help but smile at him.
"Not at all." I said as calmly as I could. "I'm just stalling."
Nose managed a slight frown in confusion, before a thousand pounds of pissed off sabertooth slammed into his back, a living missle of muscle, teeth, and claws. Shira snarled as she rode the man to the ground, her jaws locking onto his neck just like the phiomia, and with a twist and the cracking of bone, there was suddenly only 3 enemies to deal with.
The scene seemed to freeze for an eternity, as the leader and Red stared in surprise and horror at the gruesome scene, before Akari finally let out a scream, and suddenly everything snapped back into motion. Their attention was on Shira, and numb or not, I wasn't letting my friend fight alone. I snapped up my bow, quickly drawing an arrow from the quiver. It was hard, since I could barely feel my fingers, but I managed, and as quickly as I could, drew and fired an arrow.
The bearded man had already raised his crossbow to Shira, but my arrow slammed firmly into his lower back, eliciting a cry of pain from him as he stumbled forward. Shira pounced, claws extended, and struck across the back of his thigh as she darted past him. Blood flew in an arch, and I could actually hear the tendons severing as he collapsed to the ground. I drew another arrow, but the redhead had already started moving, and the kick he delivered to my face was much stronger than Nose's, or maybe I was just too weak from the poison. I dropped to the ground, stars bursting into clarity as my vision tunnelled. I struggled to clear my eyes, trying to make sense of what was happening as the bow dropped from my hands.
I heard more screams, and another crunching snap. Footsteps, snarls, grunting. I lost myself in the haze for a moment, before the tunnel vision finally started to let up, and I was able to shake my head and sit up slowly. The pain in my shoulder was gone, which confused me, but then I realized that I couldn't feel my back, or my chest. The lack of pain was a drug all in it's own, but the spreading numbness wasn't a good sign. I twisted my head, searching, and my eyes locked on Red, or what was left of him anyways. If I had to guess, I'd say that Shira had landed on his chest, and torn his throat out, judging by the massive scoop of flesh missing from his neck. Deep claw marks had torn through his leather top like paper, and blood seeped out, soaking into the sand. His eyes were glazed over in death, and a shuddred slightly.
"Asshole." I muttered, and twisted around. Shira was nowhere in sight, and neither was the Akari. I imagined she must have tried to run, which wouldn't do her much good. I shuddered again. Not that they deserved anything less, but damn, I would not want to be hunted by one of these cats. I'd fought a half starved one, and barely survived it. Shira was full grown, well fed, and well adapted to hunting. The woman didn't stand a chance.
I tried again to get myself to my feet, and after struggling for what felt like an hour, I managed to get myself unsteadily upright. Groans of pain made me finally realize I had other senses besides sight, and my gaze went slowly to the bearded man, still on the ground, his leg a mess of blood. He was laid out on his stomach, his crossbow just out of reach of his hand. It looked like he'd been trying to crawl to it. I stepped unsteadily over to him, and stepped easily on his outstretched hand, stopping him.
He twisted his head enough to look up at me, his dirty, unkempt face glaring hatefully at me.
"Kill...You..." He muttered, delirious.
I leaned over slowly, trying to breathe evenly so as not to pass out, and lifted the crossbow in shaky hands. It was roughly made, but functional, with a metal catch acting as a trigger. Nothing more than a lever secruing the string back, but judging by the force the bolt had hit me with, it was much stronger than my own bow. The bolt was still in the groove, a grey stain darkening the tip of the shaft. Unsteadily, I aimed the weapon down at the man, a low growl coming from my throat.
"Not today." I whispered. My finger tightened on the catch, and the beach was suddenly quiet once more.
It was another minute before Shira came ambiling back through the forest, looking decididly pleased with herself. I had already collapsed back to the sand, breathing heavily, and once Shira saw that, the smug expression changed to concern. She ambled quickly over to me, nudging me with her huge head. I groaned, but used the handhold provided by her fur to make my way to my feet again. She made a low sound in her throat, and nudged me harder, working herself down and under me. I flailed around weakly, until I managed to get myself positioned onto her back. I still held the crossbow in my hands, but a strap of leather proved to be a sling for the weapon, and I slung it over my shoulder, before leaning forward and laying out on the big cat's back, gripping her fur as hard as I could.
From there, everything kind of blurred together. I don't remember much of the trip back, and only vaguely do I remember unlatching the hasp's for my gates. I don't remember the climb up the tower, but I do remember the sound of concern Sara made when I saw her. I remember stumbling through the door to my cabin, and I remember the dull shock as I collapsed to the wooden floor.
And then.
Fade to black.