*Second half has been added
Willam III
The slick red blob squelched as Willam cupped it with his good hand. Blood oozed from the half-frozen meat as his fingers clenched, but Willam didn't mind at all. Argentum saw the treat and chirped in delight, head tilted to the side with his tiny arms waggling in the air. Willam grinned at his young charge and shook the prize. The little Tyrannosaurus snapped his jaws together in frustration, pleading with a pair of soft amber eyes. Willam couldn't resist the affectionate display, no matter how hard he tried. My only weakness is this adorable little creature.
Willam grudgingly drew his arm back and tossed the meat underhand. It spun end over end before landing with an audible thump and rolling to a stop, encased by a thin coat of dust. Argentum's head swivelled as the red blob sailed overhead, his amber eyes locked on the prize. The infant was on the meat as soon as it touched the ground. His silvery grey jaws closed around the bloody slab, pearly white teeth digging into the glistening red flesh. The young Tyrannosaurus threw his head back and swallowed the meat with half a dozen savage bites. Willam grinned despite the blood splattered over his new fur cloak.
He retrieved another slab of meat from the rapidly disappearing pile by his feet. Argentum sniffed the air inquisitively, noticed the treat, and whirled around to plead for more. Willam gave the bloody chunk another playful shake. The Tyrannosaurus lunged, but came up short when Willam twisted away. "You'll have to be faster than that!" He taunted, grinning.
Argentum growled softly and tried to snatch the meat once more, only for Willam to sidestep again. The little Tyrannosaurus attempted a third time, then a fourth, but only to the same results as before. Willam allowed himself a thin smile as the infant backed away reproachfully. He shook the meat one last time before tossing it up high, so Argentum would have more time to react. The young Tyrannosaurus instantly perked up, amber eyes locked on the spinning prize. He took two half-steps and leapt, small legs kicking for balance.
Argentum's jaws closed around the meat in midair, intercepting the treat mere moments before it hit the ground. The hatchling wrenched his head back and devoured the morsel whole, his eyes gleaming in delight. Willam smiled when the young Tyrannosaurus turned around with his head cocked to the side. Argentum chirped and hopped closer, his little arms wriggling in anticipation. Willam reached down for another slab of meat and tossed it high.
Argentum immediately charged after the morsel, his short legs kicking up a miniature cloud of dust as he pursued the prize. Willam watched with pride as his young Tyrannosaurus leapt and snatched the meat straight from the air. Argentum landed with an elated snarl, blood dripping from his silver jaws. The hatchling tossed his head back, and the meat disappeared. He gurgled in delight and trotted back to Willam, panting from the exercise.
"Quite the little hunter now, aren't you?" Willam cooed.
Argentum nuzzled his arm with a happy growl. A faint smile tugged at Willam's lips as he handed the infant another chunk of meat. The young Tyrannosaurus snatched it up with a delighted chirp and curled up against a boulder to enjoy his meal. Willam joined him against the great rock a moment later. He stroked Argentum's back with calloused fingers, running his burnt hand along the hatchling's short spiky ridge. The little Tyrannosaurus purred as he gnawed on the meat.
Willam smiled as he watched the infant. Argentum had grown at an astonishing rate. It had barely been a fortnight since the young Tyrannosaurus hatched, yet he now stood at Willam's waist where before it had been his thigh. Argentum's jaw had grown as broad as an anvil, his teeth sharp as daggers, and his tail thick as a small tree. The spiky ridge along his back had become more pronounced, and taken on a deep turquoise hue. Elsewhere, blue clashed against grey for dominance. Willam traced his fingers over whorls of sapphire, starbursts of cerulean, and splashes of cobalt. Argentum shifted under the touch, his little chest rising and falling with a slow, rhythmic grace. It took Willam a moment to realize the little Tyrannosaurus was fast asleep.
"Finally tired, huh?" he chuckled.
Argentum growled softly, as if he could sense the remark. Willam stroked his scaly grey head and marvelled at how large he had grown. It seemed like only yesterday that the young Tyrannosaurus had come into the world, but it had really been twelve. Twelve days and twelve nights, yet they had all blurred into one in his mind. Willam's routine always stayed the same; he would wake up at the crack of dawn, care for Argentum, break his fast with the rest of their group, complete his morning chores, return to the lookout hill or camp for their midday meal, finish whatever tasks remained, sup with his friends, then retire for the night and repeat the next day. Willam would spend his spare time playing with Argentum, reading the dossier, or watching the various northern beasts from afar. Occasionally he would draw a night shift, and stay awake to watch for enemies in the darkness with Argentum and the moon as his only companions.
Willam smiled as he stroked the infant's back. Argentum would follow him around while he laboured at his chores, and curl up by his side at night. The little Tyrannosaurus was Willam's grey shadow; never far from reach, and never out of sight. Whether it was relaying messages, transporting goods, or simply keeping the fire alive, Argentum always found a place by his side. He was underfoot so often that Willam had to watch every step, in case he should blunder into the infant and leave them both sprawling on the ground.
Yet for all Argentum's misgivings, caring for him wasn't nearly as hard as Willam had imagined it would be. The young Tyrannosaurus was a little destructive, it was true, but that could only be expected from an infant, and an apex predator at that. Argentum could be wild and unruly when he wanted to, but most of the time he remained calm and peaceful. Occasionally the infant developed an urge to play, but oft as not, he was content following Willam around and observing everything he did. Even when the Tyrannosaurus grew tired of that, a slab of meat and a nice rock to bask in the sun were easy remedies for unruly behaviour. However, Willam found it increasingly difficult to feed his pet as the days flew by.
Argentum was able to eat his own weight every day, or near enough to make no matter. At first, it had only taken a Salmon or two to sate the hatchling. That small amount had swelled rapidly, until entire kills were being dedicated to the young Tyrannosaurus. Willam found it frightening to watch Argentum devour mountains of meat his own size or even larger. He gave an involuntary shudder, recalling the huge pile that the infant had gone through earlier.
Like as not, the Tyrannosaurus would be hungry again upon awakening. Willam sighed and scanned the camp for something to feed his pet. There wasn't a single morsel to be found. He could only hope that Otto or Winter had made a kill and were bringing the corpse back home. But even if they did, it would only be enough to sustain Argentum for a day. . . at best.
We'll need a lot more food if we're to raise him properly, Willam reflected. The more Argentum ate, the larger he grew, and the larger he grew, the more he ate. It was an increasingly difficult task to keep the infant happy. Willam could see how much strain Argentum inflicted upon his friends, who had to acquire an ever-increasing amount of meat every day. Fortunately, their group had recovered enough to hunt some of the smaller northern beasts, otherwise, they would have already fished the river dry.
"Do my eyes deceive me, or have you already gone through another pile of meat, Willam?" Otto Weiss strolled into the camp with his spear in hand, a limp Purlovia slung over his shoulder, and Winter following hard on his heels. A pair of huge Sabertoothed Salmon dangled from the tip of his weapon, fresh from the stream by their look.
Argentum's eyes flared open. The little Tyrannosaurus had been jolted awake by the sudden commotion. He rose with an unsteady lurch and scanned the camp curiously before noticing the new arrivals. Winter padded over to the infant with a huge chunk of meat in his jaws. The Direwolf dropped the prize and gave it a gentle nudge toward Argentum, who scooped it up with a delighted chirp. The meat disappeared in half a dozen ferocious crunches.
Willam managed a sheepish grin as he turned to face his friend. "Argentum's developed quite the appetite. He needs more meat every day, but eventually, we'll. . ."
What? Get better at hunting? None of them had recovered from the attack, at least not completely. But even when their wounds were healed the change would be miniscule, only a slight improvement over before. At full strength, back when Hawk and Sarah were still with them, only a few kills had been made every day. And meat had been much easier to get back then, when there were still Dodo birds and other easy prey to hunt. No, Willam thought. Recovering won't be our salvation. We might be able to take down a few extra beasts now and then, but it won't be enough. Especially not with Argentum to feed.
Find more prey? But even if they somehow did, it wouldn't make killing them any easier. Willam had been along on a few hunts, and seen firsthand how formidable northern creatures could be. A handful of them, such as Megaloceros, were simply too fast. Even Winter, who had been an exceptional hunter in his youth, had grown unaccustomed to the sheer speed of his former prey. And while some beasts were too swift, others were the polar opposite; hulking monsters that even a Dodo wouldn't have trouble outrunning. Woolly Rhinoceros, Mammoth, Chalicotherium, and many others were far too strong for their group to bring down. Worse still, they were almost exclusively found in herds large enough to give even the most ferocious predator second thoughts.
Only a select few northern beasts could be hunted and killed with success. Even then, their hunts were often long and tense, and could stretch for hours on-end without so much as a glimpse of viable prey. Otters and Kairuku were common targets. With lots of patience, the small creatures could be killed on land. . . but were impossible to catch in the water. However, their group did find some degree of success with other aquatic creatures. Their most readily available source of food came from Sabertooth Salmon. The large fish had razor-sharp teeth and could bite with surprising force, but they were relatively easy to catch, especially when compared to other northern beasts.
Yet the easier prey could be caught, the more ferocious competition became. Effortless meals were not readily passed up when you lived in the harsh and unforgiving north. Many other predators relied upon the river for a living, and the shores were never empty. Direbears could often be glimpsed splashing in the shallows for fish, and their group made sure to steer clear whenever they saw one of the massive beasts. Other times, they saw Sabertooth Tigers pawing at the water, or huge Daeodon shuffling along the riverbanks.
The woods, hills, and plains were no better. Distant howls rang out day and night as Direwolves stalked their prey, while Argentavis circled far overhead, waiting to feast on the leftover corpses. The woods were infested with huge packs of Hyaenodon that hunted everything and anything, killing non-discriminatorily. Finding more prey won't help either, Willam realized.
Find more people? Willam shifted uneasily. As of yet, the only signs of human life they had encountered were rotting corpses and broken shelters. A few of the remains were nothing more than dust and bones, but many more were fresh, perhaps only a few weeks old. Willam shuddered to imagine the grisly fates of the fallen survivors. There were plenty of signs near the bodies that gave some insight toward what happened, but he decided it was better to avoid thinking about that. But finding other humans was definitely still plausible. After all, he had been surprised after meeting Otto and Joseph, especially after living on his own for the first few days. Perhaps more developments had yet to present themselves, but Willam was ready for the worst possible outcome.
No, Willam realized. There's nothing we can do. Without a miracle, we'll eventually succumb to the north. The only thing left to do is hope.
Willam let the sentence trail off when he couldn't find a way to finish it. Instead, he turned to watch Winter and Argentum, who were circling each other playfully. The Direwolf feigned a deliberately slow lunge, and rolled away when his playmate moved to intercept. Argentum took the initiative and charged, only for Winter to twist away again. The Tyrannosaurus snarled in frustration, heaving as he eyed his opponent, who growled in response. With a sudden burst of speed, Argentum leapt, and slammed into the larger beast with a solid thump. They rolled together amidst the dirt and pebbles, kicking up a huge cloud of dust. Willam noticed that Winter allowed the infant to claw his coat, but twisted away from Argentum's jaws.
There was good sense behind the Direwolf's behaviour, especially since Argentum was his opponent. Willam knew the young Tyrannosaurus already had jaws like iron, stronger than his own, and possibly even Winter's. One crunch from Argentum's heavy maw would be enough to cripple most of the smaller creatures on the island, humans included. Willam had already taken the liberty to correct Argentum's nasty habit of accidentally biting his companions whenever they tried to feed him. Luckily the young Tyrannosaurus had taken the lesson to heart, and only accepted meat through gentle nips or tugs.
Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do about Argentum's violent tendencies, which surfaced whenever the infant was hungry, frustrated, or just plain angry. The young Tyrannosaurus was a force to be reckoned with while enraged. Friend or foe, predator or prey, all lost meaning to Argentum, and he would attack indiscriminately. Scabs and bruises were common sights for anyone that got in his way. Willam supposed they were fortunate that his pet was still relatively small. Had Argentum been much larger, dismembered limbs and giant punctures would be more apt consequences. He supposed they would just have to figure something out later down the line, but for now, Argentum was relatively harmless. At least for now, Willam thought reproachfully. But how long will that be?
The miniature tantrums never lasted more than a few minutes, much to everyone's relief. Argentum would eventually cool down in his own time, but it was best to give the young Tyrannosaurus some space until then. Afterward, when he was finally calm again, Argentum would pout for forgiveness, and rub apologetically against whoever he had attacked. It seemed to Willam that the infant barely had control over himself during the violent outbursts. He would behave in an almost trance-like state, attacking with no rationality whatsoever. Willam hoped that Argentum's lack of self-control was only a byproduct of his young age, and that he would eventually grow out of his violent habits.
Until then, they would just have to cope. Willam had already stressed how important it was to keep Argentum calm and happy. Fortunately, his friends were quick learners, and they took extra care to avoid enraging the infant. Usually, it was quite the contrary. Otto and Joseph were constantly endeavouring to please Argentum by playing with him whenever he was lonely, or offering him morsels from their own plates. But despite their best efforts, the young Tyrannosaurus preferred the company of Willam, and surprisingly, Winter.
The Direwolf was Argentum's closest companion, aside from Willam himself, of course. The bond he had formed with the infant was far too strong to be usurped by anyone else. He and Argentum were practically inseparable; they always had been, ever since Willam had unknowingly imprinted on the infant upon hatching. He had been the first person for Argentum to see, and the young Tyrannosaurus had never left his side since. But regardless of Willam's special bond with the infant, Winter still found a special place by Argentum's side. The Direwolf was like an older brother to the young Tyrannosaurus. And while he had been wary of the infant at first, Winter had grown to love Argentum as much as the siblings he had lost.
Willam had been anxious to see how the two beasts would get along at first. He recalled how Winter had snarled and backed away when the Tyrannosaurus hatched, and the ferocious look that followed. Luckily his concerns were for naught, and Winter proved to be the perfect brother. He would often bring Argentum food, sleep by his side at night, and play with him whenever he wanted. The Direwolf would roll, leap, and pounce as if he were still a pup. Winter's behaviour was completely out of character, especially when compared to his normally silent demeanour. The childhood he lost, Willam reflected. The white Direwolf had been driven from his home when he was still half grown. His entire family had been murdered by a rival Direwolf who usurped his father's position as alpha.
Spending months alone in the wilderness had transformed Winter. The Direwolf was wise beyond his years; an adult in everything but age. He even looked the part. Willam was surprised to find that Winter shared a height with him. When they first met, the Direwolf had only come up to his shoulder. Even back then he had looked intimidating; all lean and fierce, covered in stark white fur with eyes of molten gold. It was hard to imagine that Winter had been a newborn pup less than a year ago.
Yet for all his strength, size, and appearance, Winter still remained a pup at heart. His serious visage melted away whenever he play-fought with Argentum. The two would frolick around for hours on end, snapping and snarling with pure delight. Winter always feigned defeat whenever they roughhoused, even though he could easily win if he wanted to. The Direwolf lost intentionally, to build the infant's confidence, Willam suspected. Yet even then, Argentum was rapidly shaping into a formidable fighter. He was constantly growing larger and stronger, and learning from his past mistakes. At this rate, he'll beat Winter for real in no time at all.
Argentum was already starting to become a legitimate challenge for the Direwolf. Recently, their mock battles had begun to stretch for longer and longer, and Winter's collection of scars swelled with every one. Fortunately, his old wounds were healing as well. In time to make room for more, Willam thought. Though by now, the Direwolf was almost as good as new. It had been a month since the Megalosaurus attack, or near enough to make no matter. Winter was slowly growing stronger, and his limp became less pronounced with every passing day.
Willam was grateful for the Direwolf's recovery; it couldn't have happened at a better time. Argentum's hungry nature had left their group hard-pressed for meat, a resource that was already scarce to begin with. Luckily, they had Winter. The great white Direwolf was invaluable to their group. Without him, they would have already starved or died trying to bring something down. Winter was arguably a better hunter than everyone else combined, and he never failed to disappoint. With him, they had a chance to recover and grow stronger. . . but not at their current rate. Argentum was eating faster than the Direwolf could provide. Willam could only hope that they would discover a solution to the dilemma, and soon.
He was shifted from his thoughts by a ferocious snarl, followed by a heavy grunt. Winter rolled away from the struggle sporting a thin coat of dust. Argentum snapped at where the Direwolf had been a moment before, growled in surprise, and turned in a wary circle when his jaws closed around thin air. With a start, the young Tyrannosaurus realized Winter had slipped away. He roared and charged at the great white Direwolf, only for the larger beast to twist away with ease. Argentum recoiled, corrected himself, and continued the pursuit, but Winter evaded him at every turn.
The young Tyrannosaurus flopped onto the ground after nearly a minute of the fruitless chase. He snarled in frustration, looking ready to give up. Winter noticed his companion's frustration and approached Argentum slowly. He turned to expose a flank, and sidled closer to prompt a response from the infant. Argentum lifted his head, saw Winter, and snarled in delight. The young Tyrannosaurus sprang from the ground with an elated roar, and charged toward the Direwolf at full speed. Winter yelped in mock alarm, but let the infant crash into him all the same. Argentum squealed in delight, his tiny arms wiggling as they scraped the Direwolf's coarse white coat. Winter allowed his opponent to scratch and slash for a moment before rolling over in mock defeat. His underside was thrust outward, and he lay completely still.
Argentum roared in triumph and leapt onto the Direwolf's exposed stomach. He paced around in a circle, his tiny claws digging into Winter's soft underbelly. And while the motion evoked more discomfort than pain, the Direwolf still trembled and yelped at his companion, who growled right back and resumed his trek. Argentum was still savouring his victory lap when Winter abruptly lifted his head, barked, and rolled over, causing the infant to lose his footing and slam into the ground with a heavy thump. Argentum shook the dust from his scales with a growl of displeasure as he rose. His beady eyes were locked on Winter, who sprang up seemingly unscathed from the scuffle. The Tyrannosaurus roared and charged at his companion, only for the Direwolf to dart away with a playful snarl.
Argentum gave pursuit, his tiny legs kicking up a fine spray of dirt and pebbles as he bounded after the larger beast. Winter loped around the camp joyfully, his tongue dangling in the air like a twisting pink serpent. The Direwolf made a graceful sight as he dashed between rocks and boulders, his long white legs stroking the ground with a hypnotic rhythm. Argentum seemed clumsy by comparison; stumbling after Winter on unsteady legs that kept getting tangled on the uneven terrain. He was never far behind, but always out of reach. The Direwolf would slow down to let his young companion catch up, but speed up again whenever Argentum got too close. Both beasts were panting from the exertion, but their eyes flashed with joy and delight as they raced around the camp.
Otto Weiss grinned as the two bolted around him, and raised an arm to shield his eyes from the cloud of dust that followed. He watched their playful antics for a moment before jamming his spear into the dirt and shrugging the Purlovia corpse off his shoulder. Willam had never gotten a close look at one of the ferocious beasts before, and examined it curiously. The Purlovia's pelt was a tawny golden colour streaked with silver hairs that hinted at an elderly age, but Willam was more interested in its size. Normal Purlovia were about as large as Sabertooth Tigers, but the one before him was much smaller. Standing at full height, the beast was barely taller than Argentum.
"A dwarf," Otto inclined his head at the corpse when he noticed Willam's curious expression.
The old man nodded, and returned his gaze to the carcass. From a distance, the Purlovia could have passed for an adolescent, though it's greying coat spoke otherwise. There was a bright teal feather sprouting from a long wooden shaft that punctured between two ribs. Willam looked for the flint arrowhead, but it was nowhere to be seen; the projectile was stuck too far in. "Any trouble with this one?"
Otto grasped the wooden shaft and eased his arrow out. Blood gushed from the puncture in rapid spurts, dark and heavy. Eventually, the flow dwindled to a trickle, then stopped altogether. The dirt drank it up eagerly, turning a vivid crimson in the process. "The beast would've gotten the jump on me if Winter hadn't sniffed it out first," Otto replied. "After that, it was only a matter of some target practice. Needless to say, I've gotten better," he grinned, held the bloody arrow up for inspection, and tossed it onto a nearby snowbank to soak the gore away.
Otto unsheathed his new dagger and plunged it into the Purlovia. The blade was a near replica of the one he had lost during the Megalosaurus attack. Around the length of his forearm and curved like a scythe, Otto's new weapon was just as deadly as his last. But where the old had been carved from Parasaur bone, the new was made from a Sabertooth Tiger's fang. Willam recalled the beast whose unwilling contribution now aided their group.
The Sabertooth had recklessly stalked into their camp one afternoon, attracted by the scent of a fresh salmon. Without a moment's notice, the catch had been devoured and they were left with a ravenous beast hungry for more. Fortunately, Joseph had been there, and his quick thinking along with his marksmanship was enough to wound the Sabertooth before it could even snarl in surprise.
Winter had taken over from there, and a fierce battle ensued that left the Direwolf victorious and the Sabertooth dead. After the initial shock wore off, their group was delighted to discover a perfectly good pelt and fresh carcass. The meat only sustained them for a few days, but the other trophies were an essential contribution to their survival. They divided the spoils among themselves; Willam received the pelt, which he had fashioned into a great cloak, while Otto and Joseph each claimed a tooth from the Sabertooth's maw. The two largest fangs were already in the perfect shape for stabbing and slashing. It had only taken a few hours to transform them into deadly weapons.
First, they had been boiled to kill any diseases the Sabertooth might have been carrying, and honed until sharp enough to shave with. Next, sturdy wooden handles had been carved from a nearby oak, and tied to the blade with thin strips of hide. Everything was reinforced by a length of supple leather, which wrapped around the blade and snaked down to the hilt. The finished result made Willam envious for a dagger of his own, but he knew the blade would be useless in his frail hands.
Instead, his Sabertooth cloak made for a much more appropriate gift; on cold nights, the shaggy furs kept him as warm as any fire. Better yet, the cloak was large enough to encompass his companions as well, especially Argentum who needed the extra warmth. Until they acquired better supplies, Willam was more than happy to share with his friends. Soon, he thought. We weren't prepared at first. But we're growing stronger with every day. It's only a matter of time before the north becomes our new home.
Otto eased his dagger under the Purlovia's coat and worked his blade around its scrawny frame. Fur was just as valuable as meat in the north, if not more. Food would sustain you for a few days at best, whereas clothes could last a year, or two, or even ten. Willam tugged his cloak about himself as a sharp gust of wind howled past the camp. Hunger was a ferocious enemy, wild and savage, whereas cold was cruel and silent, but just as deadly. Willam had experienced both, and understood the importance of skinning their kills.
Otto parted the Purlovia's pelt from its flesh with one final slash. He held the hide up for inspection, turned it over, then nodded in approval and set it down. He sheathed his bone dagger and turned to Willam.
"The pelt's ready to be washed," Otto nodded at the lake by the base of their hill. He glanced at Argentum, who was preoccupied in tackling Winter. "Might want to take that one with you. Argentum looks like he could use the adventure."
Willam nodded and called for the young Tyrannosaurus. . . who completely ignored him. "Argentum!" he tried again. This time, the infant realized he was being summoned. Argentum snapped at his playmate one last time before reluctantly bounding over to Willam's side. Winter pouted as his companion left, but remained rooted in place.
"You can always come with us if you want," Willam invited. The Direwolf didn't respond. Instead, his eyes were locked on something in the distance. Willam turned to follow Winter's gaze, but couldn't distinguish anything out of place.
The Direwolf barked and bounded back to his master's side while keeping a healthy distance from the hill's edge. Willam glanced at Otto, who only shrugged and resumed cutting the Purlovia into manageable chunks. It's probably nothing more than some wild beast's scent. Winter doesn't want to leave Otto unguarded. Willam gave Argentum a reassuring pat before setting down the hillside with his young companion in tow and the Purlovia pelt slung across a shoulder.
The lake shimmered under the glaring sun as Willam picked his way down to the shore. Argentum gave an excited snarl of delight as he caught sight of the lapping water, and charged ahead to inspect the lake. A thin film of ice had already formed along its edge. The young Tyrannosaurus snapped at the ice curiously, and gingerly planted a foot on its slick surface. Naturally, he slipped and nearly went down. Argentum managed to catch himself in time, and roared at his inanimate enemy. Willam smiled as the infant started jumping. He came crashing down, again and again, driving all his weight into the vicious attack. The ice cracked on his fourth leap.
Argentum squealed in alarm as more cracks spiderwebbed across the ice. He froze in terror and locked eyes with Willam, pleading for help. The old man started toward his young companion, but he was already too late. The surface shattered.
Argentum went down thrashing and screeching. . . only to realize the water came up to his thighs. The infant snarled and shook his head indignantly. Willam grinned as Argentum trudged out of the shallows, dripping with icy water. He gave his enemy another furious roar before retreating farther down the shore, well away from the lake. Argentum shook the droplets off his frame and settled onto the dirt with an angry huff. He proceeded to watch Willam from a distance, occasionally casting the lake a dark glare.
The old man grinned at his companion before setting to his task. First, he allowed the Purlovia pelt to soak in the water. When it was properly drenched, he scrubbed the blood and strings of flesh from the pelt. The lake made his arms numb, but the icy water was a pleasant reprieve for his burnt limb. Willam's hand still stung, albeit mildly, but it wasn't nearly as strong as before. He could finally go to sleep without feeling as if his hand was still aflame. His skin had grown back in some places, pink and shiny. Other parts were still flaky red or scabbed over. His entire arm was a hideous, ragged patchwork. The union of flesh and flame.
Willam retrieved the soaked hide from the water and beat it dry against a rock. The pelt cracked and snapped like a whip as frozen droplets sprang free. When it was relatively dry, Willam slung the fur over his shoulder and made his way up the shore. Argentum sprang up with a happy snarl at the sight of his returning master. The infant bowled into Willam with an ecstatic roar, tipping the old man off balance in his haste. It was all Willam could do to catch himself in time. The little beast is getting heavier. He's almost caught up with me in weight.
"Miss me?" He gave the young Tyrannosaurus a friendly pat, and Argentum seemed to swell with pride from the affection.
Willam chuckled and started back up the slope with his young companion eagerly bounding ahead. The camp looked especially formidable from the elevated angle, but Willam knew exactly how vulnerable it actually was. A row of tall wooden stakes was erected in a ring around the entire hill, with special emphasis on the side that bordered the forest. They had dug a shallow ditch outside the protective ring, with jagged rocks lining the bottom. As Willam drew closer, he could pick out the second wooden palisade that intersected the first. The stakes were taller and angled upward to dissuade beasts from leaping into the camp.
A thin plume of smoke rose from a second, taller hill behind their camp. Joseph on watch, Willam knew. The large man devoted himself to his duty and insisted on keeping watch through most of the day and some of the night. The rest of the watch was split between Otto and Willam himself, but there was always a person on duty, regardless of the time. They would never be taken by surprise again.
Willam edged his way between two stakes and extracted a third to access the camp. He replaced the wooden spikes and made his way toward the fire, closely followed by Argentum. The young Tyrannosaurus gave a snarl of delight as he spotted Winter, and rushed to tackle his playmate. The Direwolf gave a half-hearted growl in return, but his attention was focused elsewhere. Winter stared off into the distance, seemingly unaware of Argentum, who growled in frustration at the lack of reaction. Willam frowned. He was trying to discern the Direwolf's strange behaviour when Otto hailed his return.
"Everything went well, I hope?" Otto was seated on a rock by the stove. He had hauled a heavy flat stovetop over the rocks, and let the fire heat the stone until it was sizzling.
"Argentum made a new enemy," Willam grinned. "He won't be going anywhere near the lake for a while now."
Otto glanced up in alarm at the mention of a new foe and followed Willam's gaze toward the young Tyrannosaurus. His mask of alarm quickly faded into a grin as he noticed the half-frozen droplets of water running down Argentum's back. "That'll teach him to stay off the ice."
"We can only hope," Willam sighed. He glanced toward the Purlovia remains, which Otto had butchered in his absence. The meat was sliced into thin chunks and piled in the corner as fodder for Winter and Argentum. "The hide's been washed and scoured clean," Willam announced, holding the pelt up for display.
Otto nodded in approval. "Just set it on the rack with all the others."
The drying rack held pelts of all shapes, sizes, and colours, all in various states of being cured. Willam saw the small brown coat of a young Megaloceros, a handful of Otter skins that were smaller still, and the spotted hide of a Hyaenodon. Willam set the Purlovia pelt onto one of the higher racks and retreated a handful of steps to admire the collection.
"A few of these are ready," he declared.
Otto spared the rack a brief glance before turning back to the stovetop. "I'll work on them sometime later, but I think we're good on clothing for now.
The icy wind that drove through Willam's mangled outfit argued otherwise, but he left that part unsaid. Everything else was an improvement over before; his shredded hide clothing had been patched back together with warm furs that helped shield him from the ever-present cold. The shaggy pelts were sewn wherever they were needed; primarily across his shoulders, along his sides, and his arms. A makeshift hood had been stitched together as well, but Willam only wore it in especially cold weather. He found that the furs did more harm than good; they muffled his hearing until it was difficult to tell if anything was approaching, and they limited his vision to only what was directly ahead of him. Willam preferred to go hoodless oft as not, even though the wind stung his ears.
His mismatched clothing looked ragged and unkempt, but it served well and that was what mattered. Otto and Joseph sported similar attires, but none of their outfits were exactly the same. They all had their clothes made from different pelts due to the lack of viable furs. But despite the spontaneous appearance that his clothing boasted, Willam was grateful for the warmth it provided. The frigid northern climate had barely been tolerable at first, and until recently, it had taken a constant succession of fires to prevent him from freezing to death.
The location of their camp did very little to stave off the cold, but it still offered a minuscule degree of protection. Their camp hugged a small round hill, which was enough to keep most of the wind off their backs. Tall boulders lined the area, making it much more comfortable; the massive rocks trapped the warmth in and kept the cold out. Luckily, they had a safe and secure place to rest. Beneath a small overhang flanked by a pair of boulders, they stored their cots of dried grass. The arrangement kept the wind away on every side but the entrance. Even then, the shelter was almost always heated when Willam and his friends shared their warmth at night.
As an additional measure against the cold, their main fire was kept alive day and night. They had ringed the flames with a wall of stone, which came up to Willam's thigh in height. There was a small gap between some of the stones to allow fresh logs to be fed into the flames. It was a loose reconstruction of the fire pit from their previous camp, but this time they had built up instead of excavating down. Both pits did their purpose; keeping the wind out, and the fire alive.
Whenever they wanted a meal fried rather than charred, a flat rock was hoisted over the stone ring, allowing the flames to lick its roof and heat the stovetop. By now, its underside was black as pitch from countless hours of usage. A few of the stones in the ring had darkened as well, as had the very ground closest to the pit.
The soot-stained dirt served as a good indication to keep all their flammable materials away from the fire. All their tools and lumber were stored in the corners of their camp, well away from the firepit. Willam spied all sorts of items piled in one alcove. There was a trio of long wooden spears leaning against a boulder, a stone hatchet lodged in the ground, sharpened bones, strips of hide, a handful of flint arrowheads and sturdy wooden shafts to accompany them. Even farther away was a pile of lumber gathered from the nearby forest and ready for whatever was required of it.
Willam was distracted from his observations by the heavenly aroma of cooked salmon. Otto had already prepared both fish by skinning them free of scales and laying them across the stovetop. A thin puddle of grease had formed, where the two salmon sat frying.
Willam's stomach growled in anticipation of his dinner. Only the humans would sup on the fish; the beasts would be content with the Purlovia remains. They actually seemed to prefer meat from terrestrial creatures as opposed to aquatic ones. Willam had seen them turn away fish for other types of meat on multiple occasions. They could still eat the seafood if they had to, but much rather preferred alternatives.
Otto expertly sliced the two salmon into three equal portions; one for each of the three humans. He scooped the fish onto three flat stones and handed one to Willam. He kept the other two plates in hand.
"Winter, to me," Otto called. The white Direwolf immediately bounded to his side.
Willam was unsure of his friend's intentions, but he beckoned Argentum to his side anyway. The young Tyrannosaurus bounded over eagerly and immediately started sniffing his salmon. "No," Willam scolded. "You have your own food right there. If you want, go bring some meat with you."
The infant cocked his head at Willam but seemed to understand the gist of his suggestion. Argentum charged toward the Purlovia meat and scooped a few chunks into his mouth. He was back at Willam's side an instant later.
"We're all ready then," Otto declared after Winter retrieved a similar bounty from the diminishing pile of meat in the corner. Otto hefted his two stone plates, shouldered past the barrier, and started down the hill toward its neighbour.
"To the lookout hill?" Willam inquired on their way down.
"It gets a bit lonely up there. I'd imagine Joseph would welcome some company."
Willam knew the large man was still distraught over the attack on their previous camp, though he hid it well. He seemed to have recovered from most of the horror, although it was clear that he would never forget what happened. Of late, Joseph had opened up again. Where before he had answered questions with grunts, nods, or sullen silence, at least now he made an effort to reply.
There was still something that bothered Joseph. Willam could see it in the large man's eyes despite his efforts to hide it, and it wasn't the loss of Hawk either. His friend had worn that look far too often, but he seemed to have finally recovered from the loss. No, this is something entirely different, Willam reflected on his way up.
Joseph would dismiss everything casually whenever Willam probed at the issue. "Just my imagination is all," he would declare every time. "Nothing of concern. Don't worry about it."
But Willam did worry. He said as much to Joseph, who continued to evade the issue. But finally, after much insistent pestering, the large man finally relented one afternoon.
"It's Argentum, that beast of yours." Joseph lowered his voice when the Tyrannosaurus turned toward him with a curious growl, intrigued by the mention of his name.
"My Tyrannosaurus? Sure, he might be troublesome occaisiona-"
"That's not what I'm afraid of," Joseph cut in. "I don't think Argentum is what he seems."
"Are you certain? If he's not a Tyrannosaurus, then . . . what is he?"
"I'm still not completely sure, but he definitely isn't a Tyrannosaurus, like you believe." Joseph then proceeded to share his suspicions, which included everything he had noticed about Argentum over the past few weeks.
"There's a ridge along his back, right there, you see?" Willam nodded. Joseph went on. "It shouldn't be there. I looked at the Dossier again, and the illustration doesn't match. The Tyrannosaurus I saw on the beach from my first day didn't have one either." He gave that a moment to sink in, and produced the Dossier as proof. Joseph flipped through the book and stopped at a page that held the Tyrannosaurus.
Willam quickly realized his friend was right. Joseph pressed on insistently. "The jaw is too long as well, the arms are too large, there are spikes on Argentum's head where there shouldn't be any, and the tail should be much shorter." Each observation was accompanied by a persistent tap on the Tyrannosaurus illustration. Willam didn't need his friend to narrate anymore. Now that it had been brought to his attention, he could distinguish the aforementioned differences very clearly.
Later that night during his watch atop the Lookout hill, Willam flipped through the Dossier in search of what Argentum actually was. The infant was curled up by his feet, snoring peacefully. Willam held the book before his face and compared every likely contender to his sleeping companion. He immediately crossed out Dilophosaurus, Utahraptor, Troodon, and all the other small predators. Allosaurus, Baryonyx, Megalosaurus, and Carnotaurus didn't match either. The Tyrannosaurus was the closest thing that remained. . . but there was still another. Willam wasn't sure whether it should be counted, or even trusted, but there was an unfinished page that contained a crude sketch of a huge bipedal predator.
Only the jaws were easily discernable, but they still weren't an exact match for Argentum. Granted, the sketch did match well enough. . . much better than the Tyrannosaurus. But aside from the jaws, all the other parts were even harder to recognize. The legs were so incomplete that they looked like sticks. The arms as well, but they were even worse. Claws were simply jagged lines, and there was no shading to speak of. Two black dots counted as eyes, and the tail was just one rough triangle. Some lines were so thin they bordered on the edge of being nonexistent, while others were thick, dark, and heavily smudged. Willam had to squint to make out an image, and even then it was still far too vague to be recognizable. The sketch looked like a child's scribbles.
It had obviously been assembled in some haste. Whoever created the Dossier hadn't stuck around long enough to get a proper drawing. Willam could only imagine all the countless ways it had gone wrong. However, the author had managed to get a name, or at least a fragment of one. Whether it was real or completely made up was anyone's guess. Willam read it over and over, trying to decipher the unfinished ending. "Gigan . ." the first portion was spelled. The rest was scrawled out as if the creator hadn't been certain on a name.
What had the author wanted to call it? Gigantic-something? Gigantic-lizard? Gigantic-monster? Willam supposed he would never find out. Apart from the name, there was no other text on the page. No diet, no temperament, no notes or cautions. Just blank, empty paper. He shuddered and turned the page, but found nothing else.
The sketch did bear a certain. . . resemblance to Argentum, but it definitely wasn't a perfect match either. However, the unfinished illustration lacked many details, which might have matched with the infant had the sketch been finished. Willam reflected that Argentum still wasn't fully grown or anywhere close to maturity. Perhaps he would look entirely different when he was older.
Until then, Willam would have to decipher the mystery using only the current evidence he had gathered. With the missing details taken into account, the sketch did match with Argentum. . . at least better than the Tyrannosaurus illustration. Willam was still conflicted.
The Tyrannosaurus actually had a legitimate name and species, whereas the "Gigan" was a mysterious enigma. Willam was hesitant to imagine his new companion belonging to a completely undocumented mystery species. In the end, he went with his better judgement. Argentum resembled both specimens, but until Willam could be completely certain of the infant's connection to one or the other, it was safest to assume Argentum was a Tyrannosaurus.
Willam angrily dismissed the conflict from his head as the group approached their destination. It would have to wait another day.
The eastern side of the Lookout hill was cloaked with long shadows from the setting sun. It was large, but thankfully not very steep, although it didn't lack in awkwardly-placed rocks and crevices. Many reached out to trip Willam along the way, and he nearly lost his dinner half a dozen times. Otto didn't fare much better, though Winter and Argentum got up without any difficulties.
A small ring of wooden stakes was arrayed around the crest, but one was already extracted to allow entry. They served practically no use but for assurance. The stakes were too small to provide any real protection; most beasts could leap above them easily. Willam edged through the opening while silently praying that the pitiful defense would never have to be tested.
A miserably small fire withered in the centre of the clearing. It was shielded by an equally pathetic ring of stones, yet struggling to burn all the same. Six Compy feather arrows were jammed into the dirt like a miniature picket fence, while Joseph held the seventh in hand. A few large boulders protected their current position from most of the wind, but Willam was still shivering regardless.
Joseph had already brushed two rocks clean by the time they arrived at the crest. He had seen their coming, but they hadn't seen them. He grinned at his friends and gestured for them to take their seats. Otto handed Joseph a plate and sat down on the nearest stone. Winter curled up by his master's feet, but Argentum was more curious. He bounded up to Joseph and sniffed his hand inquisitively. The infant growled in satisfaction and retreated to Willam's side. Joseph chuckled and shook his head at Argentum's peculiar ritual.
They set to the meal with their hands, while Winter and Argentum feasted on the ragged chunks of meat they had brought from the camp. Joseph had nothing of particular importance to report from his watch, although he did mention seeing a few strange beasts in the distance.
"There were three or four," he shrugged between bites. "Far off on the horizon, but none gave me any trouble. Hunting most like, though I couldn't tell what they were. Hyaenodons, if I were to guess."
Otto nodded. "Keep your eyes peeled. We can't be too careful, especially when there are so many predators about."
Willam stared at the distant fields of snow, awash in the golden glow of the setting sun. He gave a moment of thoughtful silence before speaking up. "They were in a pack, you said?"
"Aye. Four, by my count," Joseph replied.
Willam pondered over the sighting for a moment. There weren't many northern species that hunted in packs, but the ones that existed were some of the deadliest foes they could possibly encounter. Most predators preferred to live on their own, such as Sabertooth Tigers and Direbears, but there were a few, like Direwolves, that thrived in groups. But if they did happen to be dealing with wolves. . .
Willam speared a chunk of Salmon, chewed, and swallowed. Their group was in for a load of trouble if Joseph's sightings could be believed. Direwolves were notoriously well known for their defensive behaviour, especially when territory was concerned. He could only pray that they hadn't unknowingly invaded a wolf pack's territory. If they had, it would only lead to more pain and suffering on their behalf.
Winter lifted his head and growled, low and deep. His golden eyes gleamed with sullen ferocity, and his hackles were bristling. Only too late did Willam realize how quiet it had gotten. The world was silent but for the howling of the wind. The distant herds of Megaloceros and Wooly Rhinoceros had abandoned lake, leaving the shore eerily barren. The mountain slopes were empty as well, but for the rocks and boulders that stood their eternal vigil. The forest remained unmoving, except for the leaves and branches stirring in the wind. But apart from nature, everything was completely still.
Winter had retreated, turning his back to the firepit and crouching down low. His fangs gleamed in the moonlight. Argentum picked up on the older beast's behaviour and started circling Willam fretfully. The infant growled and tugged at his master's arm, pulling him away from the hillside. Willam cursed as dozens of sharp teeth pierced his skin, but followed the Tyrannosaurus regardless. Otto and Joseph shared a look before backing away from the edge and shifting so their backs were against the fire. Joseph unslung his bow and nocked an arrow to the string. Otto unsheathed his new Sabertooth dagger and raised it against the darkness. Willam snatched Joseph's discarded staff from the ground and shifted it into a two-handed grip, wielding it like a club.
The Direwolves were already upon them. A shadow that Willam mistook for a boulder shifted, and snarled at the group, eyes gleaming ferociously. The signal spread across the hillside like wildfire. Direwolves appeared everywhere; sliding out from behind boulders, emerging from shadows, and stalking out from the forest. They were all bounding up the hill slope, converging on a single location; the Lookout hill. Joseph cursed when he saw their numbers. There were easily a dozen, perhaps two, but the shadows played tricks on Willam's vision. In the light of the moon, boulders looked like wolves, and wolves looked like boulders.
Their group tensed as the pack approached from all sides, growling and snarling from the shadows. Willam saw eyes that gleamed with every colour; sapphire and emerald, jet and gold, amber and mahogany, even a flash of ruby from an albino. He was met by gleaming fangs and snarling Direwolves everywhere he turned. They were completely surrounded.
Author's Note:
I'm back! Happy Thanksgiving to those of you who are celebrating it now.
Anyways, I'd like to apologize for the unintentional haitus. Literally two days after the last chapter came out, my school issued out textbooks and I was too preoccupied on reading ahead. After that, school started and I was immediately swamped with projects and essays. I only recently got a small break from the work, and took that oppurtunity to finish this chapter (or at least half). I intend to update the second half by the end of this month, but it could be much longer depending on school. After that, chapters might slow down to once a month, once every two months, or even less. Expect the worse.
On a more cheerful note, I'm taking name suggestions for an OTTER. Gender and colouration are still undecided, so I'll leave that to the readers as well. Special thanks to everyone who left a suggestion last time! Don't worry if your name wasn't picked, there will be plenty more oppurtunities in the future!
Girlbook, hungry baby indeed! As for your questions:
1. Not quite sure what you were trying to ask, but as I stated before, I have 4-5 story arcs planned.
2. Definitely, though the parent will never make an appearance.
3. There are definitely more tribes/humans out there.
4. I think the above name suggestion poll gives a slight indication to your question.
5. Nope. None of the traditional bossess.
haydenunstopable, I was NOT, and AM not accepting tame suggestions. Feel free to suggest names though.
ItsJustCrow, more about the dossier in the second half. There is an entry, but I made it incomplete, at least in my story. Anyways, thanks for the name suggestions! As you can see, I ended up taking one of yours.
DevoutRelic, the pack will defnitely appear in the future. . . Get ready for your emotions to be twisted like never before. heh, heh. Fun writing ahead. And I completely agree: Gigas Rexes anyday. A bit too late now, but I hope everything went well with your tribe...
Tall-Gothic-Guy, the baby might not have been one, but I promise you will get your Allosaurus wish one day. Much more comic relief to come. Don't worry on that regard.
Jaigantic, I'm glad that you considered last chapter as great :)
RedLightningD608, they'll manage to feed Argentum, just wait and see for what I have planned ;) Also, I like your idea of a mountain viking tribe. I'll try and incorporate it if my story permits.
DragonGirl345, the vision definitely had an element of magic, like our friend Willam suspected. I believe you accidentally missed chapter 11, but yes - the egg did hatch
bAstErd, please do not use this site to spread hatred.
King Endercreeper, I have seen the Aberration trailer, and it was amazing! Spot on with the homework assumption.
NumberZero41, I'm flattered that you think so highly of my story and skills as a writer! Anyways, I hope these next few chapters can provide clarification for the egg. If you're still confused afterward, feel free to PM me anytime!
Why did this happen to me, I tried to make the egg as obvious as possible :)
Thanks for taking the time to check out my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. I will try my best to upload as regularly as possible. Feel free to comment, ask question or criticize my story, review is always welcome. And if you like what you saw, make sure to check out the other ARK: Survival Evolved fanfictions out there. Have a great rest of your day or night.
-DaRumpyBurr