He had made a lot more than what he had figured he would at Kale's World; the hour-long routine that he had done at that club had brought him $315—either he had happened on one of them lucky mornings, where women were more open to visiting dancing clubs, or someone had been very generous with him. After paying the establishment's $30 fee, then re-dressing himself, he had thanked Mr. Hemingway for his letting him use his dance floor; the trip to Kemmerer City had been done right after he had thanked the man. With Kemmerer City being in Lincoln County, and with his knowing that his brothers were in that county, he had contemplated on using his communicator to see how they were doing and if they wanted to rendezvous with him somewhere after his second dancing routine was through—like with the other times that he had danced, once he had hit that floor, and the music had started being heard, he had lost track of all thoughts and time; he had forgotten all about using his communicator and contacting them to see if they wanted to meet him somewhere a little later on.
He had made what he had expected to make at Rails; not only had he danced his ass off for two hours but he had also found himself giving two women a private dance in one of the club's back-rooms near to where that club's dance routine was complete. Upon leaving Rails, he had had $250 in his pocket—this had joined the rest of what he had made that day. With the routine at Kale's World, and then Rails, being complete, he had gone to the final club that he had planned to do some dancing in that day.
The Naughty or Nice club had been exactly what he had heard it was—an almost exact replica of the club that was in Rock Springs. It was an outside-based club that was open to all orientations and nationalities; people walked, or jumped, onto one of the club's big, wooden platforms, all of which had steel poles, or rails, on them, then got busy in doing whatever routines they had in mind to do. He had been reluctant at first; outside dancing wasn't something that he partaked in doing. He preferred to do his dancing inside an establishment, where certain regulations were in place and where it was safe—after seeing the ladies tossing their hard-earned monies into the air he had stopped being so reluctant to dance; the realization of his only having $535 in his wallet had done the rest in getting him to not be but so reluctant.
The money had started being tossed right after the first shake of the hip had been done; a twenty here, a fifty there, a hundred dollar bill... he had even seen two ladies throw a rolled up wad of cash at him—all of what had been thrown had been collected by one of the club's bouncers and then placed in a white basket that his name had been placed on. After thirty minutes of dancing, he had left the stage for a short break—and to make a quick count of what he had made, of course. The two wads of cash that the two women had thrown at him had been unrolled and then swiftly counted; not only had two, fifty dollar bills been found in that wad of cash but so had two, one hundred dollar bills. In just thirty minutes time, he had made $540—nearly this same amount had been gained during his next thirty minute routine while the other, thirty minute routines that he had done had earned him a little under $300, each.
The club's DJ, a fellow by the name of Greg Bishop, had said that he had never seen the club so full-up of customers; he had also said that he had nearly started crying after seeing the stage being money-rained on. Not only had he made a lot of money but so had the club—the man who ran the bar had drawn more than fifty drinks during his tenure at the club—so both he and the club had benefited from his being there.
At the moment, it was 1:40 in the afternoon; he was sitting in a small setting, shivering his just-dressed self off, counting what he had made at the club that he had just gotten through dancing at.
"I just made the event of Lazeer getting his glass happen!" Lhaklar thought excitedly. "Oh shit... I made sixteen hundred and fifty-three dollars here—that, combined with the five hundred and thirty-five dollars that I made at Kale's World and Rails, makes for a total profit of twenty-one hundred and eighty-eight dollars; add that with what's in the family savings and... holy moley! Two thousand, nine hundred, and thirty dollars... that's more than enough for Lazeer's glass!"
He had achieved his initiative; in just a couple of hours he had made enough to make what his youngest brother wanted most to happen. Merry Christmas Lazeer, he envisioned himself saying to his younger brother after he returned home; you get your glass you annoying little cuss and there's still plenty left over to keep our heads above water. With the money counted, and then returned to his wallet, he grabbed his jacket, which was hanging on the branch of a nearby tree; he tossed that on then he decided to undo the four buttons that were on his shirt. His money-heavy wallet was put into the sewn-in pocket that was inside his shirt then his cigarette case was removed; after taking a cigarette from the case he slid the case back into its pocket, the cigarette was lit then smoked afterwards.
Now that everything on his work-related schedule was complete, he could concentrate on being just himself; he had a little under two hours before having to go home, he could use that by going out to do a little hunting, or to fish somewhere, or he could even look for one of the opposite gender to spend some time with. When it came to the latter item that he could do, he thought long and hard on doing it—it was going on two months since he had done anything, and he did have an itch to have a companion... after putting a few minutes in on thinking about going on to finding someone to sleep with he decided to not do so. He had said that he was going to do some hunting and fishing that early morning; his mother would be most suspicious if he came home with no moose or deer or without a string of fish on his arm. The money made during his dancing to the side, she'd be wondering what he had done all day—all that he had made would be added to their savings slowly, so not to gain any "unwanted" attention or concern. He couldn't just say that he had been with his brothers and, while he could say that he hadn't found anything while out on the hunt, he couldn't say that he hadn't caught any fish—he almost always brought something home after he went out to fish and his mother, and brothers, knew this all too well; it was either he stick to his original plan or run the risk of crossing under his mother's radar.
With the cigarette jutting out from between his lips, he teleported from Powell City. He went straight to Converse County; the sign, at the location that he had latched on, was loud in proclaiming where he was—Medicine Bow National Forest, that's what the white-painted letters, that had been burned into a piece of brown-painted wood, said. The park was in a section of the Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest, which was a U.S. Forest Service managed area that extended a full 2,222,313 acres. The section that he was in, Medicine Bow National Forest, had a reach of 1,096,891 acres in it.
The Medicine Bow-Routt National Forest consisted of three parts: the Routt National Forest, which spanned 1,125,438 acres; the Medicine Bow National Forest, which was 1,096,891 acres; and the Thunder Basin National Grassland, which spanned 547,620 acres. Due to a similarity in their resources, and to their close proximity to one another, and to administrative purposes, all three had been merged in 1955. Thanks to the wide variety of game animals that were here—Elk, Mule-deer, Moose, White-tailed deer, Pronghorn Antelope, Bighorn Sheep, and Black bear—he didn't necessarily have to bring down a deer or a moose; wild fowl—turkey's, meaning—also roamed the Thunder Basin National Grassland, so, if he wanted to, he could also bag himself a turkey before going home too. With there being so many water sources in the location he'd not have to worry about which river to fish in or whether or not he'd be taking a string of fish home with him.
"So, quit lolly-gagging and get to doing what you said you was going to do today." his conscious snapped at him.
A single stomp of his foot caused a spear, that was made out of finely-compacted ground matter, to shoot up from the ground; he grabbed it, looked it over once, then went on his way. He went towards the trees... which was one of several places where an ungulate animal could be hiding in. As he went towards the trees, he remembered the time when his mother had taken him to a place that she had called the South Steens.
In all, it had taken him fifteen years to master the skill of Transformation; after learning how to change his normal form into that of most of the known animals that resided on the planet, and then learning how to act like each of them animals that he had learned to take the form of, his mother had decided to teach him how to change the coat pattern of his forms—so he could "blend" in with his surroundings a little better. She had decided to take the South Steens on as a sort of training grounds for them lessons to take place in.
"The art of changing the color pattern on the coats of the animals that you've taken to change into is a very useful tactic when you Transform, Lhakie." she had said on the day that she had made the decision to teach him the advanced steps of the Transformative power. "Not only does it help you blend into your environment but it also throws the predators off."
With his being green, he had commented on this tactic being unavailable to him; she had said that while his skin complexion may get in the way the pattern with which he chose to use might also give him aid—not only will your color throw the predator off but the pattern of the coat that you chose to use will also shock said predator into backing off, she had said when he had brought the issue of his having mint-green skin up. Naturally, it didn't matter if he tried to take on the feminine form of an animal—like with his forms always taking on a form of his skin complexion he'd also always take on the form of a male animal.
At the time, he hadn't known the reason behind her decision in picking the South Steens as the area where that part of his training would be done in; after appearing in the location, and then taking it in, he had noticed that it was mostly dominated by wild horses. The South Steens was an area where wild horses were both managed and allowed to roam free; this 127,000 acre area had consisted of rugged, high desert, that was both grassy and barren in certain areas, and beds of lava rock, which had done wonders in keeping the wild equines' feet trim and hard. A type of tree called a Juniper had dotted certain regions while, in others, there had been sagebrush growing; all sorts of streams, ponds, man-made culverts, and basins had been in the area too. The brochure that he had gotten from his mother after the second trip to the location happened had said something about there being many mineral deposits in the area as well—on each of the trips that he had taken to the area, he had seen not a single one of them deposits; either he hadn't been looking hard enough or he and his mother hadn't been far enough into the area to notice them.
It had been the horses that had given him his answer on why the location had been picked as one of his training grounds; the area's large herd had consisted of many color types and patterns... he had no more seen one fine example of wild equine perfection before noticing another and then another and then another. He had seen normal-colored horses—blacks, bays, sorrels, and palominos—and he had seen many dun-patterned horses too. The bay dun stud that he had seen one day had had one fine body build on him; very finely muscled... very bulky, but having a very refined head and legs. The dark chocolate mare, that had tall, white stockings on three of her legs, and hazel-colored eyes, had been a beauty, as had the lanky bay stud that had a wide blaze on his face and a tall, white stocking on his front left and back right legs. He had seen a few grullo horses, and many roans; the pinto-colored horses had been what this herd had mostly consisted of and he had seen more than enough of them during each of the trips that he and his mother had taken to the location.
Before setting himself down to learning the lessons that she had wanted him to learn, he had watched the antics of the horses. The studs had pranced, and snorted, and had fought over either their harems or over a mare or young filly that they wanted to acquire for their very own; the mares had nursed their young, and had feasted on the nutrient-leaden grasses; and the colts and fillies had played without a care in the world. After about an hour of wild equine study, and then finally figuring out the reason to why he had been brought to the location, he had been given his first verbal lessons on how to blend in with his environment.
"Yuck! My first attempt in changing into a horse—which was one of the animals that I had yet to learn how to transform into—did not go well." he thought as he entered the park's forest.
Instead of transforming into one of the fine animals that he had studied he had changed into being a sort of wild, half-him, half-horse creature; he had come close to crying after seeing the monstrosity that he had changed into—his mother, on the other hand, had laughed behind her hand. After returning to his true self he had gone off to sit beside the lake that had been nearby. A herd, headed by a small, but compact, bay pinto stud, that had minimal roaning on his left side, had been in the area, as had a small herd of three horses—the yellow, or red, dun that had fronted this small band had been a very nicely muscled stud! He had only just produced a sigh when both of them bands charged out of the area; a nicker had been heard after they had left then he had looked up to see the most spectacularly colored, and patterned, horse that he had ever seen in his life.
The mane had been short, yes, but the neck that it had been on had been strong and mighty; the back had been long while the legs had been mid-long and pretty sturdy. The mildly wind-knotted tail had just about touched the ground. Later on, after going home, and then resuming normal activities, his mother would tell him that this horse was a palomino with extreme sabino characteristics—the head and neck had been a faded yellow color while the withers and chest had been a dark yellow color; the middle part of the horse, along with his hindquarters, had been a combination of faded yellow and crisp, dark yellow with white hairs intermingled. The three white patches that had been on this horse's left side had been the thing that had declared him a pinto; the nose, which had been slightly roman in appearance, had looked perfectly fine and well-suited to the animal that it had been on. This animal had stood around fifteen hands high and, he guessed, had weighed a good thousand to eleven hundred pounds. After taking one look at this horse, who had had two, ice blue eyes to boot, he had gotten to his feet and then tried to transform into the animal that he had been there to change into—unlike the last time, where he had changed into a wild creature, he had changed into a mint-green version of a yearling stud colt; a further change had taken place after he had decided to try to take on the stud's color and pattern.
"Very good, Lhakie." his mother had said after he had accomplished this feat.
He was just thinking about the palomino sabino stud's band members—a golden buckskin filly, that had dapples all around her, and a large star with a trim stripe running down from it; a palomino dun mare, that had loud white markings on her sides; a sorrel sabino pinto yearling colt; and a chocolate-colored mare that's coat was flecked with many dapples—when he heard the sound of the underbrush being walked on. He stopped; the muscles that were in his arms flexed, then grew taut; he was ready for anything that came out, whether it be a moose or a hare. Along with being taught the basic principles of his Transformative powers he had also been told to use this specific power of his only when he had to when he was out on a hunt; his mother had confessed to using her powers only when the situation with which they were needed to be used was dire and she had also said that the use of one's powers during the hunt was like a form of cheating. On the one hunt that he had done while being in a different form—a mountain lion was what he had taken on to be—he had felt so dirty... he had never used a different form when he was out on the hunt again.
Lhaklar moved once; a small step to the side was what did the trick in getting what it was that was out there to bolt from its hiding place. The big, buck deer, that had a better than decent rack on its head, came at him for only a second before swinging its body to the left; it went around him, then bolted towards the thicket. He, who thought that the animal would do more than keep his family well-fed for a few days, turned after it was past him then drew his arm back. His ground spear, after he threw it, penetrated the deer's side; the deer issued a single grunt before stopping and then turning to look at him. Two more ground spears were conjured from the ground, then thrown, then another was taken up after they were removed from his person. The first of the spears missed the deer while the second became embedded in its neck. Another call came from the animal before it collapsed to its side; the use of the spear that hadn't been thrown offed the animal after it was down.
"Yeeeeeeaaaaah! Lhaklar prevails bitches!" he yelled after approaching, and then examining, his kill. "Lhaklar provides for the family! He made enough money for his baby brother's goggled glass and he bagged a deer that's big enough to keep us fed for a few weeks! Woooo hoooo!"
After double-checking to see if the deer was dead he set to work in collecting what he wanted from it. The pieces of plastic that were in his bag were removed and then spread out beside the deer; the knife, which had a stainless steel blade in it, and which had a cord-wrap around its handle, was removed next. The horns were removed from the animal first; he set to taking the pelt from the animal after the horns had been placed to the side. After them two items were safely secure, he set in on making a long cut to the animal's underbelly; the organs—the heart, liver, and kidneys—were removed from the animal first then he went in to clean out the intestines and the other organs. The meat collecting took around twenty minutes to do; the small chunks of meat that he collected were put on one of the pieces of plastic, and were then rolled up for safe-keeping, while the larger pieces were put on another piece of plastic.
When he was done with the collecting process of what he wanted to keep from his kill he stood up; along with feeling a little tired he also felt a further sense of pride in himself—first the money for his brother's goggled glass was acquired and now a deer, could this day get any better for him? After doing nothing but standing around, looking at the drying bones of his kill, and listening to the birds that were in the trees, he looked at the items that were beside his bag; without a second to spare, he mouthed the spell that would send all of what he had taken from his downed deer to the cellar of his and his family's lived-in apartment—the cellar was cooler than the rest of the apartment, so all that he had collected from his kill wouldn't spoil between now and the time that he decided to go home. With all that he had collected from the deer safely placed, he left the remains of his kill behind—a coyote was fast in running up to claim the remnants of what he hadn't taken from the animal.
"Over two thousand dollars in my wallet, a few weeks worth of venison waiting in the cellar, and now heading off to do some fishing. Can't see anything ruining this day." Lhaklar thought as he started to whistle.
He went by his way for ten minutes; the sun was out, yes, but, due to the area that he had walked into, which had just bushes but no trees in it, he felt no warmth from it. It felt like the temperature had dropped ten degrees since his arrival to the park occurred. He saw several deer, a moose with her weanling kids, and then a few turkeys—this latter sighting was what prompted him into thinking that his family might need some poultry in their diets; with Thanksgiving just around the corner, they could forgo the cost of going out to get a store-bought turkey for favor of a wild turkey that he had caught. He pulled his hunting knife out from his bag then threw it; the weapon had no more become embedded in the animal, and the animal had no more started to fall after having its side impaled with a piece of steel, before he reached it. After taking the knife out of the animal, then drying it on the ground, he sent the turkey to the cellar—instead of spell-sending it to the cellar he decided to flip the ground; with a single jab of his arms, and the thought of his family's cellar in place, he sent the animal on its way. After sending the turkey to the apartment he went straight for the nearby river, which was called the Emcampment River, and which was located very close to where he was.
All he wanted was eight, maybe ten fish; his mother had said for him to not bring the entire population of fish from the water source that he fished in—he was dead-set on obeying this instruction of hers.
He used his Acidic and Elemental Water powers after reaching the river; a thin steam of white acid came out of his right hand while a stream of water rose out of the river and then hovered to within an inch of his left. He made the water freeze around the acid then he grabbed a sturdy stick; the frozen strand of water-acid was wrapped around the stick's length twice before he reached down for the rock that was just beside his right foot. With his Elemental Ground powers, he made the rock become a hook—most of the rock crumbled while the hooked remains remained intact. Before attaching the rock-hook to the line that was on the stick, he made its tip bend forward a little; with the man-made fishing pole on his person and ready to go, he set to fishing. The hook sailed through air for a few seconds before colliding with the water; the line had no more gone into the water before being jerked up to the surface.
He flicked his wrist numerous times; the hook and line were no more in the water before being ripped up to the surface on each of the times that he flicked his wrist. He had learned how to do this by watching a fishing program a few years ago; what he was doing was called Fly Fishing. The action of the hook being thrown into the water, and then being yanked back up before being allowed to settle into the water, was the humans' way of imitating flying insects, which were known to be a favorite food-source to the fish that swam the various water sources on the planet. On the program that he had watched, the humans had almost always come back with some better than fine catches after using this technique; he was hoping to get a similar result by trying it out.
Along with normal fishing, and now Fly Fishing, he had also tried Noodling; the same program that he had watched had shown a group of human men and women using their hands and feet to fish-out a Catfish from the hole that it was guarding—these fish that were caught were guarding their young. He hadn't much liked the concept of doing this, and he hadn't much liked the results that he had gotten—his hands had been cut to smithereens on more than two occasions and he had also come very close to being bit in the face by a snake as well—, so he had only tried it once before deciding to not ever do it again.
Fish were not totally defenseless animals; some had teeth while others had plain strong mouths, there were even some species of fish out there that had bone-like growths under the flesh of their mouths—this was all used after a hand, a foot, or some fingers or toes were seen as creeping into its area. Some fish had poisonous skin while others had bone-hard outer bodies; the fins were also sharp—one could well get a bad cut if they touched the fins of a fish in the wrong way.
He had no sooner started Fly Fishing when a Rainbow Trout was sighted as coming in for a closer look; he waited until the fish took the unbaited hook then he yanked the stick up and then pulled it towards him. After putting in a two-minute fight, he made a circle of water form around the fish; with a wave of his hand, he made the trapped fish come towards him. A length of rope, which was about four feet long, had been placed in his bag just before everyone had gotten up; he retrieved that length of rope then, after puncturing the ball of water that surrounded the fish, then taking the fish up, he inserted one of its ends into the fish's gills and then secured it by tying it around the fish's jaws. He only went back to fishing after tying his catch to his belt.
"Four Rainbow Trout; two good-sized Cutthroat Trout; three Brown Trout; and one, ugly Brook's Trout." he said about an hour later. After securing all of his fish, then tallying all that he had brought in, he turned to retrieve the fish that he had just caught. "And my personal favorite, that I'm planning on mounting—Mr. Big Ol' Black Bullhead Catfish."
The final fish had been a surprise for him; he had simply dropped his line into the water and then allowed it to drop to the river's bottom; the next to last fish that he had caught—the Brook's Trout—had given him a good run for his money. Not only had he been tired but he had also been a little unnerved—the Brook's Trout had come close to snapping his line and causing him to snap the stick that the line had been wound around in half. It had been a ten-minute battle after the catfish had taken the hook; once again, he had come close to losing the stick-rod and the fish had also come close to severing his line on more than two occasions. By the time he had finally landed the catfish, he had been knee-deep in water; his muscles had been quivering, he had been huffing and puffing from pure exhaustion, and he had also been near to willing to let the fish go by the time he had finally gotten it subdued.
The fish that he was planning on getting mounted was a mostly dark brown color; its underbelly was yellow. The mouth had barbels near it; the head was broad; the fins were spiny while the overall skin-texture was smooth—there were no scales on its body. There was a tan crescent around the base of the fish's tail; the barbels were black; and the caudel fin was squared off at the tip. If he had to guess, this beast of a fine fish weighed a good four pounds—it was a pretty good catch and he was going to try his damnedest to get it preserved as a trophy. He bet Bile would flip after seeing it hanging on his side of the room.
Mmmm! Would he and his family be eatin' good for the next few weeks to a month or so. His mother would be making fish salad and fish steak; he and his brothers would be grilling fish maybe once or twice this upcoming week... hell, he might as well ask his mother is she could make up a new dish with what he had caught that day. About two weeks ago, one of the cooking programs that she had been watching, but that she had also abandoned after seeing that it was time to check on supper, had shown a segment on how to make something called Fishcake; he had written the recipe down after seeing how good it looked then he had simply filed it away with his magazines. The dish looked like a relatively easy one to make; it just consisted of filleted fish and potato patty, that was either coated in breadcrumbs or batter—really, all his mother would have to do with the dish is fry the fish. He was game in trying anything once, and his mother was a better than fabulous cook; he could see himself now... he'd probably be purring, and wishing that her Fishcake would reappear in his hand, after that first bite was taken.
With the thought of his mother cooking up some Fishcakes, and of her making fish salad and fish steak, and of he and his brothers grilling up some fish meat, and of his Black bullhead catfish being mounted on his wall, firmly placed in his mind, he grabbed his string of fish, and then his bag, up from where they lay then teleported home. He had around ten to twenty minutes before everyone was expected to be back; his fish would be cleaned and then stored in the freezer then his deer-meat would be around a quarter to halfway tended by the time everyone was back to being in the apartment. After everyone was situated, and after everyone had jumped on their mother, to tell her all of what they had done that day while being away from the apartment, he'd speak of how his day was; he'd go upstairs for a lengthy nap after everything was said and done with.
After appearing before the apartment, then taking a few dozen steps towards the front door, he stopped; the urge to whistle died right after he saw that the door to his and his family's apartment was wide open.