Kittenification

And here is, Some more.

I hate the heat.


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Tristram rubbed his eyes. The whole unit of students had been led in a train, blindfolded to this new location, and now they stood together in a large glade.
“Aright everyone.” said Gareth “First I would like to speak on the raid we all participated in. I do not want any of you to get overconfident. The red-arms are largely untrained. Many do not know their talents in spite of being adults. They are simply people too lazy to enter guard, work on a farm, become apprenticed to a craftsman, or any other honest occupation. Because of this, they prey on small homesteads, stealing livestock and crops to live off. Now. Your new assignment will be to get back to the school within a month’s time. We will take all the horses but three. Good luck.”

Mounting his horse, he rode from the clearing, leading the string of horses they had entered the clearing on. Immediately Lizzie, Liam, and O’Neill followed. For several moments it was completely silent, then three horses cantered back into the meadow.

“Aright everyone!” Damien called “lets get on setting up camp to start. Sorcha, you pick two people to scout with you. Padraig, get latrines started. Tristram, get on shelter building, and Conor, come with me to see if we can secure a food source. Everyone else, just try to help one of the people I named.”
Immediately, everyone rushed to do as they had been told, without a single person questioning why Damien was giving orders.

Finding himself with Abe, Caleb, Catherine, and Dom as help, Tristram set them on collecting building materials- Dom and himself cut logs and stacked them near the small brook that cut the meadow in half, as Catherine and Caleb piled large rocks from the streambed, and Abe coiled up strips of birch bark.

Once they had a good stock of all these materials, they set to work, first digging a tremendous fire pit, then lining it with stones, and finally building a circular wooden wall several feet back from the flames, to reflect and concentrate the heat.
“That’s great guys” said Damien, when he came through “Could you try to lay up a good supply of firewood now?”

“Sure thing” said Tristram “How is the food coming?”
“Conor and a couple others are catching fish, with sticks and their bare hands, and me and Sarah found blackberries.”

All afternoon, the students laboured, finally convening in the evening, around a tremendous fire.
“Those of you who scouted” said Padraig “What did you find?”
“Well I went to the top of that mountain there” said Sorcha pointing “and couldn’t see any signs of humanity other than in this meadow.”
“I went downstream along the river” said Quiet “Found a big lake, maybe four or five miles that way, and further downstream, a proper river.”

“Who was the third scout?” asked Damien
“I was” said Ian “I went the way that the teachers left the camp. I don’t think it’s the way back though, because about a mile that way the forest is all dead trees, and after a couple miles of that theres a huge cliff. I didn’t go down it, but all you can see for miles is stone and sand”
“Well then I think tomorrow we should move to the lake” Damien said “What do the rest of you think?”

“Seems like a fine plan to me” said Tristram
“No problems here” Said Conor
“Sounds good.”
“Lets do it.”

Once the majority of the students had assented, Damien stood up “We’ll want to get up early then, and move out as soon as the sun rises. Lets all get some sleep.”
Everyone remained inside the wooden enclosure, sleeping against each other, with two exceptions. Tristram and Conor stayed awake, sitting nearest to the enclosure’s entrance.

“So” said Conor “how long do you think it will be before we get back”
Tristram shrugged, jostling Catherine, who was sleeping against his shoulder “depends on luck really. If we find a town or road soon, maybe less than a week. If not? Could take more than a month.”
“I think we should get you out there” said Conor “You’re one of the best riders, and easily the best woodsman.”

“I suppose I’d do well, but no better than anyone else.” said Tristram “being able to track and survive in the forest isn’t the same as being able to find your way out when you have no idea where you are.”
“It’d help. Anyways, we have some idea where we are. Ian saw desert, and theres only desert in the south.”
“I guess. Still, I would be just as well put to use hunting to feed us all, or building shelters.”
“I would have thought you would love to go off on your own, finding the way through the wilderness. Why do you seem so against the idea? Scared of Sorcha vamping you?”
Tristram laughed, “Now why would I fear a good thing?”

Instantly the left side of his face stung and there was a loud smacking noise.
“Ow!” said Tristram “what the hell was that?”
Conor laughed aloud “perhaps you should watch your mouth in, ahm, present company?”
“What?” asked Tristram, before looking down at Catherine. She looked exactly as she had several minutes before, except that she was smirking slightly.”

“Well then.” he said “I guess some people are good at pretending to sleep.”
“Not all that good” said Conor.
When Tristram looked at him quizzically he grinned “How many sleeping people have slapped you before now cousin? Or been unable to hide a smile when you were confused?”

Catherine sat up “Well he deserved it, lying like that. We both know damn well that he’s scared of Sorcha.”
Conor grinned “very true”
“Untrue!” said Tristram “I have no problem with Sorcha. I think she’s nice.”
“Mate, you spent the first ten minutes you knew Sorcha completely besotted with her, the next month intensely confused over whether you hated her or wanted her, and the nine months since then avoiding her.” said Conor “I reckon that constitutes something very similar to fear.”

“Fine. I’ll go scouting tomorrow then” said Tristram “will that make you happy?”
“oh I dunno” said Conor “perhaps I’ll only be happy when you’re back to your old self. You haven’t had a girl since we came to university, and that’s got to be a record for you.”
“Oh look who’s talking dear cousin.” said Tristram, “If I recall correctly, it’s been as long for you. Longer perhaps.”

“Well this is a lovely conversation for me to be involved in” muttered Catherine
“Oh come on it’s not so bad.” said Conor. “I barely know you, and Tristram seems to think of you more like a friend than a… better friend. Anyways Tristram, I don’t reckon it has been as long for me. Perhaps you should ask Sarah.
“Really?” asked Tristram “well good on you mate. I just don’t want to end up in a unit five years from now, with three or four girls who hate my guts.”

“Well why would such girls hate you Tristram?” asked Catherine, smiling sweetly, but keeping her eyes on his.
“Wait” said Conor “oh. I get it”
“Get what?” asked Tristram, deliberately avoiding Catherine’s gaze.
“Nothing. Catherine, Tristram is being melodramatic and making excuses. I have never known a girl to hate him.”

“Alright…” she said “I’m going to sleep for real now then. Keep me safe boys.”
Leaning back against the wooden wall, she closed her eyes.
“You still going scouting tomorrow?” Conor asked
Tristram nodded “I might as well. Which way do you think I should go?”

Conor shrugged “I think the river seems promising, but who knows, it might just lead deeper into the wild.”
“It will go to the coast” Tristram said “The river is flowing pretty much straight east, and we know we’re pretty far south.”
“So, a better alternative failing, we could just follow the coast”
“We could, but depending where we are along it, that could take more than a month. If we don’t find something better in a day or two, then we’ll need to do so though, at least until we hit a town where we can get directions, and possibly take roads.”

Conor stood slowly “I’m going for a quick walk around the meadow. You coming?”
“Sure” Tristram said “Let me grab my bow quickly though.”
Once he had the bow in his hand and the quiver on his back, Tristram followed Conor out of the enclosure.

“So, you and Catherine?” his cousin asked, as soon as they were out of earshot “You should have told me something, I almost messed up back there.”
“Well I mean, I hardly had the chance.” Said Tristram “I mean, we only kissed, and that was what, two days back now?”
“Oh alright” said Conor “Fair enough.”

“Speaking of which, why didn’t you tell me about Sarah?”
Conor shrugged “guess it never came up. We haven’t spoken as much as we used to since coming here.”
“That’s true.” said Tristram “Lets try to work on that. Once we’re back at school, lets meet once a week, just us two, to catch up on whatever we‘ve been doing.”
“Sounds good to me” Conor said, clapping him on the shoulder “Now you need your sleep so you can travel fast and far come tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Walking back to the small wooden enclosure, Tristram fell asleep rapidly near the fire’s heat, and the last image he saw imprinted in the yellow flickering glow of the flames was his cousin’s silhouette, watching over everyone as they slept.


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Skidoosh.

Kit.

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.

Kittenification

Sorry it's been so horribly long, I've been out of state most of the summer and I start college in a couple weeks, so life has been a bit hectic.

Here you go.


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The following morning, Tristram was one of the first to rise, an hour or so before dawn. Waking Damien, he told him that he was going to search ahead, took a horse, and rode off quickly. For what seemed like a long time he travelled in the silence of a sleeping forest, reaching the lake right as the sun breached the horizon and the birds began to sing, a chorus of boasts, each finch and robin claiming he was more attractive, wealthier, and better-endowed than his neighbour.

Turning so that the rising sun was directly to his right, Tristram rode away from the lake at a steady canter, lying low on his mount’s back to avoid any troublesome tree limbs. As the forest awoke and the sun rose higher into the sky, he noticed that the forest was changing. While he had been riding in the relative shade of large oaks and elms, now he was in the yellow-green light that filters down through the mossy boughs of cypress trees.

Continuing to ride, he noticed that the only real vegetation remaining on the ground was a thick carpet of ferns. As he rode, he hummed under his breath, drumming lightly on the horse’s saddle, until it balked suddenly. Looking ahead, Tristram saw shallow pools of water between the trees, gradually developing into a full on swamp.

Urging his mount on, he pulled the bow from his back and three arrows from the quiver “Just go nice and easy” he whispered to the horse “This place scares me too.”
Winding their way between the trees the boy and his horse picked slowly across the marsh, fording the shallow pools, and avoiding those that were deep, or too murky and algae-strewn to see.

In the middle of crossing one of these shallow pools, the horse sunk belly-deep in the mud, only it’s neck and head sticking clear of the water. Leaping from it’s back like a rat from a ship, Tristram sloshed to shore, holding his bow over his head. For several minutes the horse stood stock-still, the whites of it’s eyes bared in terror.

“Come on sweetheart” Tristram said, placing the bow against a tree and wading into the shallows “it’s not so hard, just a little mud.” The horse snorted, shivering violently.
Stepping forward to it, Tristram gently rested his hand on it’s trembling haunches, Whispering quietly “Come on, you wouldn’t want to make me walk would you? You wouldn’t do that to me?”

“Well look here” said a voice off to the side “A Horse and his boy.”
Spinning, Tristram saw nothing “Who’s there?” he called out “hello?
“You know” a second voice enjoined “He looks a bit familiar”
Tristram started wading back to the shore “Show yourselves, whoever you are!” he called.
“Hold on there little brother” said the first voice “What might your name be?”

“Tristram” he said “Tristram Galloway”
At once, two identically dressed men stepped out from either side of a large tree trunk. “Remember us?” asked the one on the left “John and James Tayfield.”
Laughing aloud Tristram scrambled to shore “You’re Jack’s friends. The scouts?”
“yes indeed” said the one on the left “You look a fair sight harder than when we last chanced to meet you.”

Tristram nodded “A bit less fortunate as well though, as you can see.”
“Oh no worries there little bandit-friend, We’ll have your horse out in a moment.”
Placing their bows and quivers on the ground near his, the brothers waded into the water, one removing a coiled rope from his belt, handing one end to his brother, and swimming beneath the animal with the other. Walking back to shore, they walked to opposite sides of the pool and then pulled steadily, walking towards Tristram, the force of their combined effort dragging the terrified horse out of the sucking mud.

“Grab him as soon as he’s clear” said the one brother “or he’ll likely bolt.”
Stepping forward, Tristram gently grasped the horse’s bridle, stroking its neck softly “Hush you” he said “You’re alright now. No more mud.”
The horse eyed him suspiciously, still breathing heavily, before evidentially deciding that he was trustworthy, or at least harmless, and snorting, walked a few paces away and rolled in the soft ferns and needles.

“So boy” one of the twins said “Why are you here, in the middle of a swamp, in the middle of nowhere?”
“Yes” chimed in the other “Weren’t you to be at the university?”
“I am” said Tristram. Seeing the matching bemused expressions, he elaborated “The students best at fighting and woodcraft were brought out here, to fight some bandits, the left, to find our own way back within the month.”

“These bandits” said one brother “by any chance were they the ones with red armbands?”
“yes” said Tristram tentatively “Were they friends of yours?”
Laughing aloud, the first of the two shook his head “no, no, we were sent to the mountains with a group of men to eliminate these upstarts, but we found the job already done. I suppose we have you to thank then?”

Tristram grinned “Partially anyways. There was around twenty of us.”
“Well where are the rest?” asked the second brother
“theres a big lake, a ways directly south.” said Tristram “Most of them are staying there, while a few of us scout for the quickest route back to the university. Speaking of which would you mind letting me know where we are, roughly, and what you reckon the shortest route to the school from the lake would be?”

The brothers looked at each other “I would hazard that the shortest way would be to go a little ways south, then through the green-stone pass, then you can take the main road from the crossroads up to the west, and straight on up to the school.”
“And as for where we are” said the other “We’re about twenty miles north of the border here. Greenstone technically marks the border, although the fort at the crossroad, three miles south of there, is a legion fort.”

“Alright, well that’s great news” said Tristram, swinging into the saddle “Give Jack my regards would you?”
The pair nodded “Good luck little brother” said one “Jack will be pleased to hear of his young friend.”
Tristram grinned and waved “Thanks for everything. Perhaps we’ll meet again sometime.”
Wheeling the horse, he galloped quickly back towards the south.

When he rode into the small camp by the lakeside, the sun was just past it’s zenith.
“back so soon?” Padraig asked as he dismounted “What happened to the horse?”
Looking, back, Tristram saw that his mount’s legs were still caked with mud “Oh, swamp. Could you take him down to the lake for me?”
Padraig nodded, leading the horse by it’s bridle, and Tristram ran over to where Damien was digging a fire-pit.

“Hey” he called “I know where we have to go now”
Damien looked up “You found a road?” he said, brushing his hands on his breeches.
“No” said Tristram “I ran into a couple old acquaintances, who told me theres a pass a little ways south, and a road another three miles south.”

Damien nodded “This is good. We’ll leave early tomorrow. Until then we can just put everyone on food gathering.”
“What could I do to help with that?” Tristram asked
“You’re a good hunter aren’t you” said Damien “I’d guess there’s lots of game around here, and you have a horse too. Get as much as you can have butchered by nightfall, and I’ll be thankful.”
Tristram grinned “With pleasure”

Regaining his horse from Padraig, who was fishing from the lakeshore, he rode east, up the sunny aspen-covered slopes of a range of foothills. For a while he rode through a large clearing, shooting the rabbits that startled at his passage, until he came onto a deer trail. Tying the horse to a tree, he proceeded up the trail on foot, pausing from time to time to check the rubbings on trees. Finding a small outcropping of rock above the trail, immediately past a narrow gap between two tremendous boulders, he settled down, quietly humming as he honed the broadhead of the arrow he had chosen.

For hours he sat in place, waiting for a suitable target. Finally, when the sun was falling near to the horizon, a single doe came traipsing along the trail. As she was directly next to him, he whistled softly, drawing the bow. Hearing the noise, she froze, and the shot hit perfectly, the force knocking her to the ground as the arrow vanished in her side. Grunting, she scrambled to her feet and bolted through the narrow space between the boulders. Tristram hummed quietly to himself, counting to a hundred twice before following the blood-trail.

At its end, only a short distance from his horse, he found the doe, still in death. As he approached however, there was a great yowling, coughing noise, and a large cat emerged from the brush.
“Oh come off it” Tristram muttered “Look, piss off, this is mine” he said, drawing an arrow and placing it to the bowstring.

The cat was about as long from nose to tail-tip as Tristram was tall, and probably weighed not much less than him, and it did not back down in the least as he stepped forward. Instead it curled its lip back, baring fangs as long as his fingers while growling quietly.

Stepping back, Tristram drew “You can’t have it. It’s mine” he said. The cat just walked slowly up to him, completely without fear. “Look, I’ll give you a coney, how would that do?” he said, releasing the tension of the bow. Sitting on it’s haunches, the cat cocked its head and yowled loudly again.

Tristram backed up a ways before turning to walk to the horse where he untied one of the rabbits he had shot earlier. Carrying it back up to the kill, he found that the lion hadn’t moved. “Weird fucking animal…” he muttered, throwing the rabbit to it. Picking the rabbit up, it continued to sit, watching him.
Sighing, he knelt, drawing his arrow out of the doe’s chest and wiping it on the grass. Hefting the dead animal to his shoulders, two of its feet in each hand, he turned and walked back up the path, loading it onto the horse.

Unhitching his mount from the tree, he rode back down to the lakeshore at a gentle canter. When he arrived in camp, Conor greeted him “Told you you were the best to go scouting” he said, grinning broadly “Here, I’ll take care of the rabbits for you.”
Dismounting Tristram tossed his cousin the rope of rabbits and unloaded the deer, carrying it over to a tree, where he bound its hind feet to a thick bough and proceeded to butcher it.

A little more than an hour later he finished, right as the sun went down. Carrying the last of the chopped meat over to the area near the fire in the skin, he then walked down to the lake stripped, and dove in, washing the blood off his hands. Climbing out, he noticed something moving near his discarded clothes. “Hey, who’s there?” he called.

“mrrrrroowr.” came the matter-of-fact reply.
“Good grief.” Tristram said. “Are you sure you’re a lion and not just a little barnyard cat that didn’t remember to stop growing?” Walking over to it, he grabbed his clothes, keeping his eyes on the cat, which sat still, quietly regarding him. “Fine. Let me go get some food.” he said, pulling on his breeches. Walking up to the fire, he gathered up a chunk of hot venison for himself, and one of the fish that had been caught earlier for the cat.

Tossing the trout to the cat he dropped to sit next to it. Sniffing at his offering it laid down quietly and began chewing on the head. “Nice night” he muttered, biting into the venison.
“Hey Tristram, why’re you out… what is that?”
Tristram twisted to see Catherine approaching “oh, it’s a big kitty!”

Upon her approach, the lion rose to a crouch, growling softly. “Hey little one” Tristram said “Cat is nice. Cat, this is a cat.”
Catherine ran up and began petting the lion, which froze momentarily before settling down and resuming its fish-gnawing.
“you know” Tristram said “I hadn’t actually touched this thing until now. In fact I thought it was wild.”

“Why would you think that?” Catherine asked, scratching at its neck.
“Well I don’t know” he said “Perhaps the fact that we are in the middle of nowhere and lions are usually wild.”
“Tristram, you’re a big idiot.” she said, laughing quietly “It’s wearing a collar.”

Tristram reached over carefully, running his hand down the cat’s neck. Sure enough there was a broad leather collar with flat metal rivets. “You know what.” he said “Sometimes I am more focused on the fact that a large predatory animal is staring at me then I am on its attire.” As he spoke the cat leaned against him and began purring loudly.

“I think he likes me” said Tristram
“He has good taste” Catherine said, smiling
“Well I’m glad you think so” he said, reaching out to tug lightly at some of the golden-blonde hair escaping her loose braid.
Disappointed that it wasn’t being petted anymore, the cat rose and butted Tristram with it’s head a few times, before yowling quietly in disgust and walking over to a large rock where it lay, cleaning itself.


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Hope you enjoy it,


Kit.

__________________
"I have never made but one prayer to God, a very short one: 'O, Lord, make my enemies ridiculous.' And God granted it." -Voltaire.
Read what I write

or perhaps what I sing.