The next few days had been difficult. Krissa was constantly being visited by this creature to a point where she wondered if it would be more reasonable to simply move her camp... Perhaps he was watching her for informative purposes, perhaps he was he was just a curious animal. Either way, she understood that the apes were intelligent, primitive animals- unlike those she had briefly viewed from behind a thick layer of glass at a sanctuary. He was always so silent, observing her closely with clever tawny depths, cognac tones clear whenever they caught the sunshine. Krissa's fears had ultimately come true when he would return at some point during the day (be it morning or afternoon) to keep a close eye on her. At the very beginning of these occurrences, she had noticed how weary and unsure he had been, watching from a distance off in the bush or from up in a tree. It had been a reflection of herself, as both of them appeared to feel just as timid as the other. Nonetheless, Krissa understood that he was just as dangerous as the rest of his tribe, and whenever she would feel as if she could perhaps attempt to approach him, her own anxiety would kick her in the ass. He was a wild animal; no more, no less.

Uncomfortable with being constantly observed like an animal in a cage, she began to drape blankets over the mouth of her little den, just in case he attempted to return while she was asleep. Referring to him as "him" in her mind felt alien at times. Occasionally she would wonder if he had a name, but given she knew only of Caesar and the stories of the massacre, she understood that that little fact of information didn't matter. Engaging in any sort of intelligent communication with these creatures was impossible, due to their thirst for human blood... or so her father had taught her. Krissa was just finishing her breakfast when the rustling of the leaves above alerted her to his fast approach. At this point, she felt obligated to simply ignore him. It was her best shot at staying alive. If she ignored him, hopefully he would lose interest. Her paranoia always told her otherwise. It wasn't as if she were trying to act as if she were completely ignorant of his presence- Krissa's own anxiety kept her alert the entire time. It was simply feigning such things... after all, he was simply an ape.

The thud and hoarse pant escaping the male brought her little interest, although her heart hammered in her chest like a caged bird. He was really close compared to how he had been for the past few days. Krissa carried her paper plate to the bag of garbage she had been collecting lately. A few Crush cans and water bottles would make a good trip-wire alarm in case any sort of creature would have the nerve to creep into her makeshift camp. Krissa simply began to head for the moss-choked cave she called her home and began to pick out a few lines of twine she had managed to salvage from the community lost to the wrath of the Ape Tribe so long ago. Krissa settled herself on the damp earth, and began to punch holes in the aluminum and plastic surfaces so she could string the twine through. Her eyes focused on the task at hand, Krissa didn't seem to notice that the creature had decided to slide down next to her, settled a few feet away and silently observing her. Slowly, he shuffled closer and then inquisitively tugged at one of the bottles. Startled, Krissa grunted and met his gaze, anger flashing behind her eyes.

The ape seemed to cackle at that, a few grunts escaping his throat. He did it again, only for the twine to snap. Krissa, beyond irritated, grumbled and picked up the severed end, tying them together. "That was rude," she ended up saying, the words that left her mouth a surprise to her. For a minute it seemed as though she were in the presence of a child needing to be scorned for it's behavior... boy, this was one big kid. Swallowing, she hoped that he wouldn't be encouraged. Eventually the ape became bored with her and began to look at the pot over the fire, the water heating up in order for her to be able to safely drink it. Reaching forward with a look of disgruntlement, he began to wrap his hand around the metal handle. Noticing this, Krissa was just about to open her mouth and warn him, but was too little to late. He drew back with a shriek due to the fact that it had probably burnt his hand. Shaking his mit, as if in pain, his other hand began to make odd movements. It took her a moment to recognize, but when she finally did, she was speechless. These animals used sign language. He was talking to himself!

When her mother had still been alive, she had given her lessons in sign, seeing as it would help her in her future. It seemed to have been true after all these years of not believing her. Sure, there had been an odd occasion where she used it at work, but never had she really had a full conversation with someone deaf or even mute. Wait, what was she thinking?! She couldn't try and communicate with this animal! There was no way she could entice him even more- and even if she tried, he might just kill her for being too smart or... something. Krissa averted her eyes as the creature crossed over to her, now favoring his hand. If these monkeys are smart enough to use sign language, then why wasn't he smart enough not to touch something hot? wondered the bronze flower. The greyish brute decided it would be best to try and hobble down toward the river, and rest his burn in the cold depths, which caused her to frown. She couldn't help but feel sorry for him as he walked so pathetically.

Krissa's instincts couldn't help but identify this ape as a human. They stood upright, walking like a man at times, and apparently even signed. They had the intelligence similar to that of human beings, and yet somehow could act as dumb as mud at times. The disease had most likely multiplied by now and evolved to change man's brain, given how it had affected her father so differently after he had managed to fight off the original virus. Shouldn't it be making their brains smarter? The ape was on its way back up the hill when his endless dark cognac eyes met her own hazel-green set. She flinched, looking away and down at the bottles, refusing to stare any further. She didn't want him to feel as though she were challenging him or whatever. There was a grunt from the animal as it ventured very close to her, it's paw extending to her, it's spear being laid down. Her eyes turned up on their own, and her heart nearly exploded. The skin on his hand was blistering now, which caused a twinge of sympathy to tug at her heart.

It was as if he were trying to make her feel bad, deliberately for leaving the item unattended and letting him touch it. It wasn't her fault! Nonetheless, her attention traveled to the inside of her cave, her mind reaching toward the list of supplies she remembered she had within her first-aid kit. The creature collected his spear and used it to balance himself, his injured paw hanging as it dangled over his knee. Was this amusing to him? The ape began to move away once again. Bringing her head up, she looked over at him; he sat there, spear's dangerously sharp point settled to point skyward, his eyes studying the burn upon his hand. Something dripped from his appendage, which surprised her. Had he been attempting to close some sort of wound? Nerves began to make her legs weak, but instead, she bucked up. Maybe he would have killed her by now if he had wanted to to begin with. "Hey..." she said softly, her voice coming out in a quivering murmur. It was as if she were too scared to summon up the strength to even create sound from her throat. The animal's head turned, clearly a bit startled that she had said something.

After a while of eye-contact, she managed to muster up the courage to sign, 'Hurt?' The animal's shoulders visibly tensed and his grip tightened around his spear. Had she been wrong? A heavy silence filled the gap. Following a few moments of relentless staring, the animal's hand twitched. 'Yes,' was his reply. Her heart hammered in her chest; he had actually answered her! 'You know sign?' A grunt rasped in his throat, as if speaking along with the movements his hands were making. Krissa felt as if her entire world was erupting. Her heart trembled and she nodded, unsure of where this might go. 'Need help?' The ape's teeth bared and he let out an angry bark, rising up a little higher in order to make himself look threatening. 'Why trust human? Human is threat to ape life.' Immediately terrified, she signed an apology, shuffling onto her knees and scrambling back.

'I only want to help,' Krissa protested, bringing her hands into her chest. 'Not all humans are bad.' The ape hesitated, remaining in his bristled position. He was agitated, and not only that, but probably felt like he was cornered at the moment... like a wounded animal. Ironic.

"If I try anything, you can kill me..." she finally spoke up, her voice croaking from her throat. It had been a long time since she had spoken to anyone, let alone anything. "I promise." Krissa wasn't quite sure what she had said to upset him, but the ape suddenly let out a series of pant-barks, clearly livid. Backing up further, she covered her head and ducked it between her knees, remaining there like that for a few more moments. Finally, she turned her cranium up, only for her eyes to fall upon empty air. The trees shook and rustled, leaves falling down to earth as the creature made it's exit.

Nestling back into her poncho, she bowed her head once more, her throat tight. She was going to be okay, there was no need to cry. If the ape returned to his tribe and explained to his leader that there was an intelligent being out there, they would most likely see this as a threat, and track her down.

Tomorrow, she would move.

Krissa seemed to have dozed off as she had settled there, completely stiff. The hush of falling rain was brought to her attention and drew her out of the slumber she had fallen into. She looked out at the trails of rain as it poured off the surface of her shelter, admiring how crystal clear it was. The air smelled damp and the aroma of pine and spruce filled her senses. The sound of a gentle hoot hit the air and she turned her head, curious as to where it was coming from. It took her awhile to process the fact that the ape was now settled right beside her, his hand extended and his eyes settled upon her. They held a dull glimmer. Krissa sprawled back, dragged herself away from the creature, terrified by how bold he was being once again. As she sat there, panicking, he simply rose and shuffled forward on his good paw, using his knuckles to support his weight. Krissa tried to escape further, only to fall into the wall, trapped. Once he was exactly the same distance away from the young girl, he shoved his hand forward once more, a grunt escaping him.

The girl hesitated, then straightened, peering at his palm. The hand was very human-like, the skin blistered in some parts. She now understood why he had tried to grab the handle, seeing as it would have sealed the wound shut if he had held it for long enough. Blood gleamed as it oozed from the partially-cauterized laceration. Krissa noticed how the gash sliced into the meaty part where his thumb began, and down onto his palm where it swooped and glided up along the side of his smallest finger. Tentatively, she signed, 'What did you cut yourself on?' The ape remained still, simply watching her hand as she gently moved to touched him. Slowly, his teeth bared, which quickly got the point across that he'd rather not be touched and only examined. 'One second, please,' Krissa gestured. Slowly, she positioned herself so she could walk on her hands and knees and carefully made her way to the back of the cave.

She could feel the animal's eyes burning into her as she shuffled around, watching her every move with his dark brown depths. She'd have to take this slow.