I probably got the technique completely wrong. Don't flame me, please.
When Chantal woke, it was to a grey, miserable day.
How fitting.
She wondered why she thought that, but then the events of the last night came rushing back, and she cringed.
Oh, hells!
For a moment she contemplated just curling up and trying to get back to sleep, to be free of the memories for a few hours more, but then she got the better of the coward in her and sat up, looking around. Her eyes found Casavir, sitting in the same spot as last night.
Has he moved at all?
She could not see Bishop. Maybe he was inside.
Just as well. I really don't want to see him right now.
She looked up into the sky and tried to make out the sun behind the thick layer of clouds. It was no easy task, but she thought she could discern a spot that was slightly brighter. If she was right about that, it was about midday.
Hooray. Half of this fun day already over.
She got up, stretched, drew a deep breath and walked over to Casavir, throwing a glance into the hideout, but it seemed to be empty. She started to feel a bit uneasy. Where was the ranger?
Casavir looked up as she approached. He looked deathly tired, dark smudges under his eyes. Chantal sat down next to him.
"Where's Bishop?", she asked bluntly.
Casavir just shrugged. "Walked off about an hour ago. He did not say where he went, and I did not ask. The less I hear and see of him, the better."
"You let him wander off alone?", she asked, incredulous.
"What? I thought you trusted him.", he said, sarcastically.
She felt an itch to slap him. "This is not the time to turn sulky on me! You know damn well I did not want to let him out of my sight as long as we are in this cursed city!"
"Yes, I noticed you did not want to let him out of your sight", he replied.
"Would you please stop that? Heavens know what he is up to!" She jumped up. "We have to get our stuff, we have to..."
She stopped, tensing, as she saw Bishop coming round the bend. When no one seemed to follow him, she slowly let out a breath she had not realised she had been holding. Where had he been, what had he done? Had he alerted someone to their presence?
If so, you'll know soon enough.
Her stomach cramped at the thought of having to face him, to talk to him. This had to be the most embarrassing situation of her life. Only to think of the way he would probably gloat... She felt herself blushing.
Can I just run and hide, please?
Averting her eyes, she noticed something in his hands and looked back. What was that? Something dangled there, something like a... bag? No, not a bag... When he came nearer, she could make out brown, furry bodies, hanging down from the long, thin tails he held in his hand. Rats?
He paused before her, letting go of the tails. The rats landed at her feet with a dull sound. She looked up from the dead animals, into Bishop's face. Was there a glint of malice in his eyes?
"Breakfast", he said, and stepped through the door into the building.
Chantal looked back at the rats at her feet, her shame momentarily forgotten.
Eeeew!
Casavir got up, staring down at the little carcasses with a disgusted expression on his face that probably matched her own. Then he looked up at her, and his face softened.
"I'm sorry", he said. "You are right, it was childish of me. Stupid, and risky. And it won't happen again, I promise. I just felt so..."
She took his hand and gave it a short squeeze. "Shhh", she said. "I know. Don't worry about it. Nothing bad happened, I think. Did you get any sleep at all?"
He shook his head. "No, but that is not a problem. Someone had to stand watch, and I could not sleep anyway. This waiting drives me insane. I wish there was something I could do, instead of just sitting here, completely useless."
"I know. I feel the same. But you look like hell", she said honestly. "I'm awake now, so you go and get some sleep. You will be no use to Neeshka if you are completely exhausted. I'll wake you for...", she looked down at the rats at her feet and made a face, "...breakfast."
He sighed, and nodded. After giving her hand a last squeeze, he entered the building, only to come out with his bed roll as well, rolling it out next to hers.
She regarded the "breakfast" with dislike.
What do I do with them?
Skin them, I think. And disembowel them?
Yuk.
She had never done this before. There always had been somebody to look after their meals – Elanee, who was quite a good cook, Grobnar, whose creations could be somewhat... exotic, and even Bishop, for the time he was with them. He had been an adept cook as well, she remembered. It had surprised her at first. He just did not seem the type.
Guess you have to learn, if you are as self-sufficient as he is.
That still left her with... what? Six dead rats and no idea what to do with them.
Do I really want to eat them?
Well, the answer to that was plainly no, but the rumbling in her stomach said she had to eat something. And there was not much left in her backpack except for a bit of stale bread and some dried meat and fruits.
Besides, he's just waiting for me to get all squeamish.
She was not going to give him that satisfaction. So she bent down, picked up the rats by their tails, repressing a shudder, and took them to the opposite building, where she sat down, drawing her dagger. Then she stared at the rats in indecision.
So, what do I do now?
After a moment, a shadow fell over her, and she looked up in alarm, seeing Bishop standing before her, arms crossed over his chest, his lips curled up in an amused smile. She gave him an icy glare.
Not funny!
He crouched down next to her, taking the dagger out of her hands.
"Look", he said, and his tone held no laughter. He picked up one of the rats by the neck, cutting the skin around it with the dagger. "You first cut the fur like this, and then like this...", the dagger sliced along the spine down to the tail. "Then you hold fast at the neck...", he did as he said, "loosen the skin a bit with the knife, and the you take it, giving it a good, hard yank...", he did, and the ripping noise nearly made Chantal gag. "That should do it. If it gets stuck, help it along a bit with the dagger. Then you cut off the tail and the head, and the only thing left to do is to disembowel the little bugger."
He looked up into her face, now showing a greenish tint. His eyes widened a bit, and laughter appeared in them. "What?", he said. "You can wade in the blood and entrails of your enemies, but you can't skin a rat?"
"Well, it sounds a bit silly, if you have to put it like that", she said, defensively.
He looked at her for a moment, then a true smile showed on his face, very different form his usual smirk. "Fine", he said, shaking his head, still smiling. "I'll do it. I was going to collect some dry wood for a fire, but maybe it's best if we swap."
She was so relieved, she gave him a thankful grin and jumped up. "I can do that!", she said, walking over to the next collapsed building, starting to pick up what was left of the timbers.
Only then she realised she had let him take her dagger while he was in striking distance. Let him take it right out of her hand. And that she left him alone, still holding said dagger.
Gods, I'm slipping!
She glanced over at Bishop, who was sitting where she left him, deftly working on the rats.
Well, he does not look like he is going to stab someone in the next minutes.
Demanding the dagger back now would surely just serve to enrage him again. And she was glad that his mood seemed to have lifted a bit. It made getting through this day much easier.
And with the disgusting rat business, I completely forgot to be embarrassed because of last night.
She felt colour rise in her cheeks and quickly looked away, starting to collect wood again.
Too bad I remember now.
She would get her dagger back after he was finished. That way, she could do it without making him angry again.
Besides, if I do it now, it would be me skinning the rats.
She kept watching Bishop out of the corner of her eyes. When she saw him clean the dagger on a patch of grass growing nearby, she decided she had collected enough wood. If he went back to the building now, he would pass the sleeping paladin. Better to be close by. She did not really believe he would try to attack Casavir, it was too stupid a thing to do, but she would not take any risk.
Better safe then sorry.
So she walked up to him, meeting him halfway to the building. He carried the skinned and cleaned rats, and she had to admit that without the heads and tails they did not look as bad anymore.
Like very small rabbits.
He saw her eyeing the rats and grinned.
"You'll see, they taste like chicken", he said.
"I seriously doubt that", she answered, wrinkling her nose.
He laughed, and as last night, the sound surprised her. She looked up at his face, searchingly. He gave her another grin and entered the building.
He has a nice laugh.
It was true. It was light and low, and the sound seemed to make something in her tingle. And it softened his hard face and made his normally cold eyes sparkle with warmth.
He should laugh more often.
Or not. Better for her peace of mind if he did not. Somehow, an ill-tempered Bishop was easier to deal with.
She followed him inside and put the wood down, turning to Bishop.
"Can I have my dagger back now?", she asked.
He gave her a wry look, but handed her the dagger, handle first. She took it, feeling a bit relieved. She did not think he was going to turn on them anymore, but...
You did not think it the last time, too.
True. And even less she had expected him to... well, what he had done later.
Come on, you can say it.
Fine. Had not expected him to murder her. Hence, no risks.
"Since I seem to have nothing with a blade left, you'll have to go outside and get some sticks we can use as skewers", Bishop's slightly sarcastic voice broke into her thoughts. "I'll start the fire."
"Won't somebody see the smoke?", she asked.
He crouched down, piling the wood into his old fireplace. "Don't think so", he answered. "It's day, and we are in the middle of the ruins, so no one is going to see the shine. Since we start the fire inside, there will be no column of smoke going up, and the day is grey, so some wisps of smoke won't be easy to see. And this wood is nice and dry and will produce very little smoke anyway. So I think it is safe. Besides, I'm not going to eat these raw." He gestured to the rats.
"Point taken", she said, shuddering at the thought of raw rat. Cooked rat was bad enough. "I'll get some sticks."
She went outside, where at the corner of the building some bushes were growing conveniently. She selected some appropriate sticks and sliced them off with the dagger. After she cleaned them of leaves, she went back inside, where the fire just started to crackle merrily.
Bishop regarded the sticks. "Perfect", he said. "Sharpen them, and then we can start to roast these little treats."
Treats?
Hardly. But better than her growling stomach. Maybe. She sharpened the sticks and handed them to Bishop.
Soon the smell of roasting meat started to fill the little room, making Chantal's mouth water.
I can't believe I'm starting to drool over roasted rat...
She went to her backpack, taking out the rest of the stale bread.
"This is all I have left, but if we share, it will be enough to go with the... meat", she said.
Bishop looked up and smirked at her. "In denial about what you are going to eat?", he said.
"Yes", she replied haughtily. "And I would be immensely grateful if you would not constantly remind me."
He gave his soft laugh again, and as last time, something in her tingled at the sound. She swallowed.
Oh, this is not good.
Maybe she really should say something to make him angry again.
Good-humoured Bishop is just too dangerous.
Only she could think of nothing to say right now.
He handed her one of the sticks with the crispy brown... meat on it. "Your lunch, princess", he said, twinkling.
Butterflies seemed to flutter in her stomach as she met his wolf eyes, a warm smile in them for a change.
She swallowed and practically jumped to her feet. "I better get Casavir", she said, quickly. "He has to be hungry, too."
The smile vanished from his face, to be replaced by his usual nondescript expression. He just shrugged and retracted his hand with the rat, taking a bite out of it himself.
There, I did it. No more merry Bishop.
She hurried outside to wake Casavir. With the two men together in one room, at least she could count on icy silence.
Much, much better that way.