Hi, everyone! SmarmySmirk here. Just a heads up, some of the locations of the survivor notes might not be accurate for the story's sake. Also, the island will be bigger, so that it's not where every twenty steps you take, you see a new dinosaur.
Please review and enjoy Chapter #2 of ARK: Calvin and Hobbes!
"Calvin! C'mere, quick!"
Hearing Hobbes' far-off cry, Calvin's head snapped around and he stood up from the fire in a flash, picking up the hatchet that he was finishing. Without hesitation, he bolted off, his bare feet padding against the soft sand of the beach before crunching against dead leaves and twigs as he ran amongst the trees.
Dashing around a stand of palms, he lifted his hatchet, about to utter his new signature battle cry (Yaaarghioioioooo!), and halted, seeing Hobbes sitting down by a bush in no immediate danger. He looked around for anything that could pose a threat, hatchet still at the ready, but nothing was apparent except for a pterodactyl of some sort in the sky.
No, he thought. That can't be it. The two had already seen dozens of pterodactyls not far off; a smaller one even came close to their campsite to pick at the dilophosaurus carcass before they shooed it away and got rid of the body. They weren't attacking him and Hobbes at all… yet.
Seeing no death-bringing monster stomping their way, Calvin looked at Hobbes, who was still examining the bush growing near the pool that they had found earlier, which served as their only current source of freshwater. "Okay, what are you doing, Hobbes?"
The tiger looked away from the plant in question, and motioned for Calvin to come over. Puzzled, he complied, and Hobbes jerked his head at the bush. "Check it out."
Looking at it, Calvin was surprised to see bunches of oval shaped, bright red berries hanging on the bush like grapes! Picking one from the plant, he noted the surprisingly resilient nature of the fruit's skin. It wasn't rough, just… firm, like the skin of a cherry. Using his fingernails, he split open the inside, which was also red but not as saturated. It had several tiny seeds around the middle as well.
"Cool!" he exclaimed, glancing over at Hobbes. "How do we tell if we can eat this?" he asked.
"Well… from what I can recall what I read your wilderness survival books-"
"-I have wilderness survival books?" Calvin asked, surprised.
"Yeah," Hobbes nodded, confused. "Your mom got them for you 'cause she thought they contained some valuable skills. You never read them?"
"...no."
"Judging from our current situation, those probably would have been useful right about now," Hobbes stared at him with a stern expression.
"Well, books aren't fun!" Calvin argued. "And besides, experience is the best teacher."
"Yep, you are definitely experiencing what it's like to be in a certain situation unprepared," Hobbes sarcastically noted. "Not all books are useless."
"Whatever," Cavin grumbled. "You were saying?"
From what I can remember, if a berry tastes soapy and-or bitter, then it's probably poisonous."
"Ah!" Calvin exclaimed. "So all I have to do is taste-test this red, oval perfection!" And before Hobbes could say, 'Wait!" Calvin picked a berry and popped it in his mouth.
The taste came to him immediately. It was a partly sweet, partly sour flavor that reminded him of limes and cherries mixed together. He swallowed it, the taste still lingering in his mouth, and turned back to Hobbes, grinning in delight. Hobbes, meanwhile, had a rather nervous and quite worried look on his face.
"Hobbes, you have got to try these berries! They have this awesome sweet n' sour taste that stays in your mouth!"
Hobbes was still a bit skeptical, but if Calvin vouched for it, then he'd give it a go. Leaning over to the bush, he plucked off a berry with his teeth. Cautiously, he tested it in his mouth, chewing it very slowly. Then, he started to speed up as the full flavor hit him. Calvin smiled even wider, if that was possible. After swallowing, Hobbes licked his lips, his large tongue stained with berry juice.
"These DO taste good!" Hobbes grinned. "And, hey, your tongue's all red!"
Yours is, too," Calvin giggled, and they both picked another one. "Y'know, Hobbes, I haven't eaten anything since we got here. Whaddaya say we fill our bellies with some berries?"
"Agreed!" Hobbes said. "And since I was the one who initially discovered this beautiful edible, I will name it fructus tigris, or Tiger Fruit!
In a blink, Calvin's smile vanished, replaced by a frown, and the two friends started to argue over the "actual," name of the fruit under the hot midday sun.
Hobbes was full.
He had eaten about forty-something tigerberries (call them what you like, Calvin), and he now lay down by the crackling fire, purring contentedly at the flames' warmth. They were surprisingly rich and filling, for being so small.
To his left sat Calvin, taking instructions from the implant on how to sew a pair of pants. As he watched the boy use an old fishbone that he had found to sow the first pant leg, and fiber collected from the dead, stringy leaves of palm trees, he chuckled. Tigers needed no clothes, because they were perfect. They already had an all natural fur coat, a tail, fangs, and retractable claws. What more could a creature need?
He was, however, impressed by the hatchet that Calvin had made. With a strong stick, a piece of flint, and some handmade twine from the same fiber as the pants, he suddenly had a tool for cutting wood, defending himself, and even for skinning certain animals, if the need ever arose.
"So, Hobbes," Calvin suddenly spoke up.
"Huh?" Hobbes asked, shifting over on his side to let the fire warm his belly.
"What do you think the lights are?" Calvin asked, pointing over at several bright, colored columns in the starry night sky. Hobbes lazily turned his head up, his eyes adapting to the sudden change in brightness as the flames were forgotten. The beams of light were easily apparent in contrast to the dark background of the night. Two were green, five were white, and there was a red one far off in the distance.
"I really don't know," Hobbes responded at last. "They might be made of the same tech that your wrist thing is made of."
"Well... wait a minute!" Calvin realized. "Do you think that if we went there in the morning, we could find out some more about what brought us here?"
"I…" Hobbes stopped, and mentally berated himself for not thinking of that sooner. Of course! Those things could be a clue about where he and Calvin were, or how they had ended up here! Perhaps... perhaps they were a ticket back to home.
"You're right," Hobbes nodded with a hopeful smile. "We should go there tomorrow!"
"All right," Calvin grinned, and soon returned to fabricating his fiber pants, stopping every couple of minutes to eat a fire grape (Call them what you like, Hobbes).
Hobbes just rested, doing his best to immerse himself with the sounds and smells of the land that they were on. He loved doing that. He loved just… being. The shore was nearby, soaking him with its salty atmosphere. Far off, somewhere in the forest, mysterious calls, chirps, and warbles drifted over into his' ears, like a natural orchestra.
After a couple of minutes, the tiger had very strongly connected with the primal and emotional currents of this new world. But, strangely enough, it didn't feel quite right. It didn't feel… real.
And as he lay there, firmly rooted in a sort of meditation, his senses couldn't help but pick up the far-away pitter-patter of many, many footsteps coming ever closer. His ears pricked, his eyes snapped open, and he lifted himself up in the blink of an eye.
"Something wrong?" Calvin asked, looking up.
"Something's coming," he warned Calvin, who immediately leaned over to pick up his hatchet, clutching it in anticipation of what was coming. He rose up, and came to stand by Hobbes, who unsheathed his claws as he got into pouncing position.
The pitter-pattering came closer and closer, an unnerving sound that made both of them shiver with dread. Could it be Dilophosaurs? Perhaps a new, even more dangerous kind of creature with razor-sharp talons and snapping teeth? Unrelenting, they sound became louder and louder until it seemed like the thing was right in front of them!
Suddenly, from the forest, into the light walked a trio of tiny Compsognathi.
Hobbes' growling stopped at once as he looked over the tiny creatures. They couldn't have been more than three feet long, and were only about as tall as a chicken! Reptilian in nature, with miniature scutes acting as skin, they had elongated heads, like raptors, and a considerably long tail in comparison to the rest of their body. He was caught off guard by how small they looked, and as the two of them watched, the foremost one stepped closer and let out a tiny chirp.
Out of his left ear, he distinctly heard Calvin say, "They look kinda cute!" And he had to agree.
Then, he heard more tiny footsteps.
Looking to his right, he saw a couple more arrive. Even more rustling sounds alerted the two friends to more and more of the things coming from the left. Out of the dark brush they came, trilling and chirping as they formed a rough crescent moon around them. And with each new one, Hobbes' anxiety steadily rose.
When the final one joined his pack, Hobbes guessed that there must have been nearly twenty of them.
"Hey, Calvin," he whispered to the boy, who was nervously gripping his hatchet in one hand. "Do you remember these things from Jurassic Park?"
"Now I do," Calvin muttered back wth anxiety. He didn't remember much from the sequels, but now the memory of a sweet little girl getting swarmed came back to him in a flash.
They were boxed in, the fire to their backs and a couple dozen tiny dinosaurs in front of them. and judging from the hungry looks on their faces, their tiny but needle-like teeth, and their anxious fidgeting, all it could take for them to close in was one small signal.
"Chirp."
And with that, the creatures descended in a flurry of limbs and battle trills. Hobbes immediately bared his deadly fangs, and stood to meet them. Calvin, meanwhile, swung his hatchet as a dozen of the creatures jumped up at him, catching one with the blade and sending it flying.
Others attacked Hobbes, jumping at his face with the intent of scratching out his eyes, with powerful blows from his front limbs, he frantically batted them away, before pouncing on the fifteen or so mini-dinosaurs that had separated to attack him exclusively. He pinned the first one to the ground as the rest parted and bit its puny little neck. Another leaped up and he swiped it into the fire, screeching in pain at the terrible heat that enveloped it. But as he did so, Hobbes felt a strange sensation on his back. The things were jumping on top of him!
They went mental, snapping at his limbs and sticking to his back. He yowled in pain as parts of his fur were ripped out, and little claws raked bloody scratches in his skin. The things were all over him! He shook furiously in an attempt to get them off before getting an idea. Even as the dinosaurs bit at his ears, he flipped over and slammed his back into the sand with all of his might, and felt the satisfying sound of hollow bones shattering.
But already around him, the creatures regrouped. He just managed a look over at Calvin, who was likewise being swarmed. Before he could come to the boy's aid, the dinosaurs attacked him with renewed vigor. he twisted and rolled, managing to get most of the little monsters off of him. He swiped at the remaining attackers, catching one in his claws and raking him across the ground. But even with their numbers dwindling fast, these… things just didn't know when to give up. The remaining seven charged him.
That wouldn't do. Hobbes deftly caught one in his maw, crunching down on its squealing form, and pinned down another. Still holding down the second flailing dinosaur, he growled fiercely at its friends who had stopped. This time, the nuisances had the right idea, and ran back into the forest with no other option left. Looking down at the one that he had caught, he raked the pinned dinosaur with his claws, killing it.
Whirling, Hobbes started to run toward Calvin to help him… only to find the twelve year-old staring at the forest covered in blood, breathing heavily, with his hatchet clutched in both hands as he watched the little, deadly pests run off.
"Hey," Hobbes said, at which Calvin spud around, hatched raised and a frantic look in his eye, before letting out a relieved and tired breath.
"Calvin, are you-"
"I'm fine," Calvin nodded, still taking deep breaths. "I'm good."
"You have bleeding bites and claw marks all over you," Hobbes argued, and he was right. Small streams of blood were starting to slowly seep from the scratches all over his skin. "We've gotta stop the blood flow."
"I'll be fine," Calvin scoffed, and sat down to relax.
"Can you at least wash your wounds with salt water?"
"Okay, okay."
As Calvin got up and stumbled down to the shore, Hobbes winced at the burn that his own wounds brought with them. Sighing, he got up and followed the boy. You could never be too careful when dealing with possible infection... he sure didn't want to get some sort of prehistoric virus.
After washing their wounds, Calvin and Hobbes sat down again, next to the campfire, and the former reached for the improvised sewing equipment to take his mind off of the sting that the saltwater gave his cuts and scratches. Resuming where he had left off, he continued to make the first pant leg.
"Hey Calvin," Hobbes interrupted from the other side of the fire. " What are we gonna do about all of the corpses around here? They're going to attract something sooner or later."
Thinking hard, Calvin looked up and said, "Let's get rid of most of 'em first thing in the morning. That way, we can keep a few for food."
"That's a good idea," Hobbes nodded. It would be good for you to learn how to skin and gut your prey, and I can help you!"
"Wait," Calvin stopped him, "you already know how?"
"Well, it's not like us tigers kill our prey and don't take the skin and the guts out first," Hobbes scoffed. "I know how to do both."
"Isn't your main source of sustenance tuna from the pantry?" Calvin asked, raising his eyebrow.
"Well, it's instinct," Hobbes argued. "Tigers are born with it."
"Yeah, right," Calvin muttered to himself, and continued sewing. "You go to sleep. I'm having fun working on this pair of pants."
"Are you sure?" Hobbes asked. "If you want, I can stay up and stand guard this time."
"Nah," Calvin said. "You're good. Besides, you need more sleep than I do."
"Well, I won't argue with that," Hobbes replied and yawned, before padding around in a circle and curling up on the soft sand.
As Hobbes began to doze off, Calvin stopped his sewing to turn, and look at the crashing surf at the shore, and the moonlit waters beyond. The sight struck something in him, and he let out a sorrowful sigh. Memories fluttered through his head like butterflies, each one fleeting and sweet. He remembered his house back home, with its red brick foundation, gray walls and lovely cyan roof. He remembered all of the people in his life, from his loving parents to even his next-door archenemy, Susie Derkins, and counted them all as a blessing.
He missed home. He missed his life as it was, careless days, exploring in the forest or hatching brilliant schemes in their treehouse. Sledding down steep slopes or spending Saturday mornings laughing at cartoons with Hobbes. And then and there, as a tear slid down his cheek, as the sting from his scratches was drowned out by the immense homesickness that had washed over him, and as he looked up at the night sky, filled with an infinite number of glimmering stars, he vowed that he would find a way to return someday.
:D