35
Orion wasn't found by Kwiri's father or his friends, even though it
was close. Orion had gotten good
enough at being quiet to avoid them, having the head start he had gotten.
But he felt sad at leaving. Was it
because he liked her? Or because she was one of the few that
showed him kindness? He suspected it was a bit
of both. And she represented all he'd always longed for, freedom,
spirit, courage. He didn't know if he had
had it at one point in his life, but he knew that he hadn't for a long
time.
Again, he reminded himself as to why he stayed away from people.
Elsewhere, a certain black jackal was in a foul mood, as he had been
so many times since Hyder and
Orion escaped. He had virtually forgotten about the little hyena,
more intent on catching the feline. But still,
he did not put every resource he had into it, that would be foolish...even
as a matter of principle. But, he'd sent
out the bounties and called back his people. If he was in any
of the cities the whole damned hemisphere, there
would be someone who saw him, and didn't mind capturing a slave for
some credits.
"Sir? no news on the brat yet."
Blackmoor turned to scowl at the taskmaster. "None."
"No sir. There were a few reports, but all were false leads..."
The jackal nodded grimly. "All right. Keep me informed."
But Blackmoor had little hope of finding the
kid; he suspected that he might have even left the planet. "Wait."
the taskmaster paused. "Tell the others to
keep an eye on the spaceports, tell them there to be on the lookout
for a young Thunderian kid trying to gain
passage or hop a transport."
"Will do, sir."
"Good. Then go."
This conversation might have worried Orion had he planned on hoping
a transport but he was not brave
enough yet to try that. And where would he go? He didn't
know how to get to Thundera, and he highly
doubted any of the Plundaarian transports went there. he didn't
know how to pilot a ship; there was no way for
him. At least not yet. He wanted more than anything to
go back to Thundera...see if his parents somehow made
it back. But he had to worry about surviving here first.
The months went by, and winter came. Orion wasn't happy, but he
survived it. His hunting and
survival skills had increased with constant practice, and he became
tougher physically than he had been. His
cruel childhood had left him tough, but the wild living had done so
further...and it had left his spirit stronger
too. He was confident now that he would stay free, and he intended
to make sure of it if it meant taking his own life when there was no other
way.
Spring came, then summer once more...fall...
Orion was growing to be a handsome young man himself,
although somewhat on the small side. It was the different breeds
of cat in him that did it, as a housecat in the
gene pool reduced general size a great deal. He was also becoming
certain that there was some kind of canine
in him somewhere too, which might explain why he was so awkward in
some things compared to other felines.
not that he'd known many cats, but those he did know were far more
graceful than he was.
He was accustomed now, at seventeen, to life in the jungles and forests,
sometimes the deserts of the
planet...and he was happy. He rarely spoke now, but it was not
for fear, rather than the fact that he had no one
to talk to. Sometimes he would talk to himself, as many people
do when completing a task by themselves.
His father had used to talk to himself, and he remembered his mother
would just laugh...
He did not often think of home; there was so little that he remembered,
and what he did remember hurt
him inside. But it was all right for now, now he had to concentrate
on where he was.
His body had filled out somewhat in those years, as he grew. He
never got really muscular, but there
was a strength in his limbs that his small stature belied. He
was wiry and tough. He ate well, having learned
what to eat in moderation, and what to eat a lot of to make him healthy.
As he moved form place to place, he
discovered what was good to eat, and what was not. He still occasionally
swiped bread or milk from a village,
as they were things he could not get for himself. Sometimes he
even swiped some dessert here and there. But
mostly he lived on what he caught, and found.
Orion wore his hair in braids, having seen one of the Mutants in one
of the cities wear it in a similar
manner. He cut his mane as best he could with his dagger when
it got in his way, but he thought the braids a
good way to keep them out of his eyes without having to cut it all
the time. It had taken a good deal of
experimentation, but he had figured out how to do it, and from then
on wore his unruly mane in a number of small
braids. It was cooler in the summer too, he discovered.
He'd gained a few other scars here and there, from beasts he'd encountered
in his travels, and had
developed a slightly stronger dislike for the jorick ants after nearly
falling into a pit, and having gotten stung
more times than he would have liked. But the young man had come
through little trouble in many months. It
was nice not to have to worry, he thought one day. It was fall,
and not too cold out yet, and Orion was enjoying
the crisp weather. It was nearly time for the fall festival,
a gathering that mot of Plundaar participated in from city to city, and
which Orion had never gotten to see as a child. He had watched
form afar a few times, envying the way the Mutants there could freely participate,
but also thinking it was just as well, since he did not like to be physically
close to people.
But this year, he decided that he would like to at least walk around.
Orion had acquired a pair of sturdy boots, stolen from a well-to-do
leathersmith. He had made many of
this clothing items himself from the skins of what he caught, but mostly
they were small animals, and while
they worked well for clothing and gloves, he'd wanted something to
last on his feet. he had long pants and a
long tunic, made from stolen cloth, since Hintracrii's clothing no
longer fit him. he had kept them though, although they were little
more than rags now. The clothing and the picture and the book.
But he had left his pack hidden in the forest south of town. He
wore a hood against the cold, and a
warmth mask across his face, intending to walk in the market.
He rarely took money when he went into town
for bread or the like, but on the occasions that he idd, he saved it
for special occasions.
And now he had a few credits that he could maybe spend in the
village. He hoped that no one would be suspicious of his mask,
as he knew of Plundaarians wore them, and
his smooth facial features could easily have been a simian's underneath.
He thought the risk was worth going
into town without sneaking and skulking for once.
No one gave him a second glance for the most part, although at an involuntary
flinch when someone
bumped him, or a subtle moving away when someone got too close did
earn him a strange look or two. But he
did not make a big deal out of it, and no one said much.
Orion wandered among the stalls, smelling dozens of different scents
in the air...cider form the fruits
around the town, breads of a dozen different kinds, candles, incense...
There was almost too much, but Orion
was enjoying it a great deal.
The young cat had bought some bread and a small game with a wooden board
and stones, that one could
play alone. He had played the game only once, and liked it, and
he figured that it would give him something to
do when he was not hunting, or sleeping.
He stayed in town for most of the day, and then retreated as the sun
began to set, and the cool wind
became chilly. He had not been questioned once, which relieved
him, and he'd been able to spend a day among
the civilized. And he had gotten some good food and a game.
He watched the lights of the festival, as the more hardy and fun-loving
of Mutants kept the festivities
going in the night. But soon, Orion retired to where he had hidden
his pack, and slept.
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