Bandits in the Sand

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Serial Snuggler, Oct 30, 2015.

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  1. Long ago, civilization collapsed as Earth slowly turned into an arid wasteland where only the fittest survived. Quickly, humanity adapted to its new world and soon enough loose groups of survivors gravitated towards each other in a only slightly less than useless attempt to restart civilization as they knew it. Not all chose the past, however, as some were impressively suited to this harsher world. Those ended up living either on their own or with their family or friends, yet a few took to being highwaymen... outlaws in a world without proper rules beyond those of Mother Nature.

    A few century latter, a deaf man and one such bandit met, the worrying change in weather and the ever darkening days bringing them together in a bid for survival... that they want it or not.


    The sun was unpredictable lately, with bursts of nearly overwhelming heat quickly followed with a brusque change of temperature towards the freezing as the planet's cycle spun closer and closer towards another Ice Era without the support of proper vegetation and bodies of water to regulate the weather. That worried Jackal, despite his attempt to keep calm and to simply focus on his own survival despite the worsening living conditions in the Greater Wasteland. His supplies were running low, and looting from highway robberies and corpse stealing was starting to not be enough for him to live without much care like he had ever since he took to banditry in his fourteenth year, twenty or so years ago. Heck, if it continued like that...

    “Tch!” With a disgusted scowl, the scruffy outlaw threw away the broken remnants of his last piece of flint with a muffled curse. “Fucking damn it, not again...”

    Finding good materials was hard enough for him without the damned sun hiding nearly all day, and while the steel dagger he used would still last him a while, his supplies of food, drinkable water and survival tools were running low. It had been a bad month for those without a land of their own, and while Jackal had survived with a good blend of skill, experience, ruthlessness and dumb luck well enough, he knew he would eventually have to find something to get rid of the uncertainty the last month brought when it came to his alternate lifestyle.

    His dusky skin illuminated by the fire he still managed to light in a last ditch effort, Jackal stared into the crackling flames and plotted. After all, he knew only his cunning would save him at this point. Now if only he had a good plan...
    #1 Serial Snuggler, Oct 30, 2015
    Last edited by a moderator: Mar 23, 2016
  2. The sand still felt a little warm under his feet as he walked through the darkness, looking for a safe place to stay for the night. Everything else wasn't feeling especially warm though. The nights seemed to get colder with every month now, making living out here harder and harder. If it continued like this, he would have to figure out something else. The way it was now wasn't working very well anyway, for other reason. He barely got any sleep now, waking up several times every hours, thanks to every nerve being on higher alert then ever. The slightest vibration, real or imaginary, and his eyes shot up. He wasn’t sure where the extra paranoia came from, but he wasn’t exactly living in a nice world, so maybe it wasn’t so strange after all.

    The string on his bow was pressing on his chest and the freshly caught rabbit dangling from his hips. Hopefully it would still be fresh by the time he got to eat it. There was no way he would light a fire while it was still dark, making himself an easy pray, and he wasn't hungry enough to eat the thing raw. He would cook it when the sun was back up. The strap on his bag was digging into his shoulder, and the pain was getting too unbearable to ignore. He stopped and gently put it down, before he started to massage his shoulder while taking some deep breaths, eyes closed.

    Smoke. His eyes opened again and he slowly looked around, taking in every detail that stood out in the dark. Which wasn't much, and the fire was easy to spot. To his left, a flickering dott of yellow light. His first instinct was to grab his things and hurry in the opposite directions. He didn't have any rules that he followed, but if he would have, keeping away from other people would definitely have been number one. You couldn’t trust anyone, it's was easy as that. But, a fire meant you can cook meat, and the thought alone made his stomach rumble. Maybe he was a little hungrier then he first thought. He pressed a hand against it and considered his options for a long minute. Then finally he picked up his bag again and started walking.

    If there was a group, he would turn around. If there where only one person… then maybe he would go all the way. Paying close attention to the ground he stepped lightly towards the fire, and soon he was close enough to make out how many they where. One. It seemed too suspicious. Why would a loner light a fire? He looked around after places the rest of the group could be hiding, but couldn't see anything. So maybe it wasn't a trap made for idiots. Maybe the guy was just really cold. Quint could understand that, he was starting to feel pretty cold himself now, and the night was still young. This had to be the coldest one in a long time.

    After another round of considering to and from, he walked around the outer edge of the light until he could walk toward him from the front, not wanting to come up his back and surprise him. With the rabbit dangling from his hand, he slowly walked forwards into the light, keeping his eyes on the stranger...
  3. As worn out and cold as he was, it took the bandit a fair bit longer than he felt comfortable about admitting for his ears to pick up the sound of an intruder. The wood was still full of air and fuel, the flames crackling and pooping loudly into the night and the dance of the orange flames were leading Jackal's stressed mind into a trance that was apparently deep enough to leave him vulnerable to outside threats. This would not do, and the brunet quickly snapped into a long practices offensive battle stance before even looking at who had dared to intrude on his makeshift haven.

    He knew he would have to be careful with a fire in the open, but since his supplies was low and his health in a slow and steady decline as a result of his worsening living condition, the man could hardly afford a night in the dark cold. Sandy feet wrapped in cheap rags shifted in the soft ground as the blades of two dagger, one of a good quality steel and the other of a rusted iron, flashed in the low firelight as Jackal readied himself to fight for his life. The fearsome snarl twisting his features froze in confusion when he saw that the man before him was holding a rather mouthwatering carcass of a plump rabbit instead of the expected weapon, and the outlaw struggled to keep his stance firm and his mind focused on the danger instead of the hunger he felt.

    “What do you want? I'm not in the mood for games, so you better find something good to say or I'll gut you like a fish.” The raspy rumble of his own voice hurt his somewhat parched throat, yet he had to be strong in front of other, or he'll be dead like so many who fell to his blades.

    He wouldn't let his guard down, no matter what the bastard said. Wariness and suspicion were the only friends he needed, and he wouldn't hesitate to kill and steal from that man's corpse at the first chance he got. That was his way... the successful bandit's way.
  4. As soon as the stranger jumped up, he froze. It at taken longer than he had expected, the man couldn't be feeling well. Quint didn't feel that well himself, and his sore muscled already cried after more of the warmth he could feel from the fire. The man said something, he could see his lips moving, but the bad lighting and his sleep deprived brain made it hard for him to catch what he was saying. Something about games and fish...

    He shook his head slightly to clear his mind, and at the same time slowly raising his hands with palms towards the stranger, showing that he meant no harm. Then he pointed to himself with the free hand, and then to the fire, making his movement slow enough so they wouldn't come of as treating, and so that there should be no trouble seeing what he was doing. Then he held up the rabbit and pointed at hit before pointing at the stranger first and then himself. He swallowed and cleared his throat. "Share," he said, or at least he hoped he did. He couldn't remember the last time he had spoken to someone. At least a few months, and his throat felt strange from the unfamiliar movement. Just to be sure, he said it again. "We can share."

    He didn't remember what his voice had sounded like before, barely remembering sounds at all. After his hearing had gone away, he had continued talking, and been told he sounded fine, that there wasn’t a difference. He wasn’t so sure of that was still true, now that he no longer had anyone to talk to daily. But he hoped he still managed to at least make himself understood…
  5. The stranger's voice sounded even hoarser than his own despite Jackal not having spoken in over a month. That alone would have been enough to set him on edge on any other day, but with him so close to his breaking point the brunet couldn't help but feel a shiver of unease run down his spine. The offer seemed innocent enough, but any who had lived for as long as he did in that desert of a region know that innocence was a lie used by the weak to take down stronger foes. Taking a moment to narrow his amber-colored eyes in thought as he scanned the mysterious intruder's face in the near dark, Jackal looked over his option as quickly as he could.

    There had to be a catch, but for now he would go along and look for both signs of deceit and weak points in the other man. He could do no more for now, as the stranger would no doubt be armed and his weakened state meant that he could now be easily overpowered or distanced, leading to the loss of either the chance of a good meal or his life. Jackal finally gave in to his hunger and sat back down while gesturing for the other to give him his prize.

    “Come and warm yourself near the fire, I'll skin and gut the rabbit and cook it on a spit, so give it here would you?” The bandit sheathed his lesser blade and extended a hand towards the general direction of the freshly killed game, expectant eyes challenging Quint to refuse him.
  6. Quint relaxed his shoulders when the stranger sat back down, relieved that he didn't have to run away from some lunatic with a knife. At least not yet, he could warm his feet first. He sighed when he saw him talking again. Why did he have to do that now? Quint was too tired to read his lips, pluss it would take him some time to get used to the way he talked to really understand him anyway. Frowning at the hand he then extended, it took him a couple of seconds to understand what he wanted. The rabbit. So much for sharing...

    He gave it to him before taking off his bag and bow, and then sat down and placed his feet as closely to the fire as he could without burning them. They where not a nice sight, covered in dirt and small cuts from alway walking bare feet. He hadn't worn shoes from some years now, it felt safer without them since he then could feel the vibrations in the ground if someone came up behind him. But it had its price. Even though his soles where thick and hard now, he still kept hurting them from stepping on or kicking into stuff. He had lost count of how many times he had broken a toe.

    With his bag and bow lying right beside him, he curled up with his knees under his chin and one arm wrapped around his legs. With the free hand he brushed his dirty black hair away from his face, and then rested his dark eyes in the fire - but still aware of any sudden movement that might happen to his right. There was something relaxing about looking at the flames dancing around, and within just a few seconds he felt his eyelids get heavier. He opened his eyes as wide as he could and took a deep breath, trying to chase the sleepiness away. He could not fall asleep here. That would, without doubt, be really stupid...
    #6 Ashlio, Oct 30, 2015
    Last edited: Oct 31, 2015
  7. The offered rabbit was snatched as soon as it was within his reach, the ravenous man uncaring to appear desperate or rude in his moment of need. As he had hoped, the plumpness of the rabbit was not from a thick hide but of a life of leisure that was frankly quite rare in those days and age. Quickly holding his prize a bit farther away from both his laps and the fire, Jackal took the blueish blade of his dagger to bear on the soft, white belly of the dead creature and expertly slashed downwards. His action provoked a small waterfall of blood and innards as was expected and allowed his greater reach in order to clean and prepare the meat of the big rodent.

    Working in silence, the bandit removed the skin and carefully laid it down on the sand to dry with a half thought to take the valuable piece of rabbit fur for his own use once the other's guard was lowered by the warmth and food. Peering quickly at the now clearer figure before him, Jackal was both startled and please that the other man seemed to be nearly dead on his feet. Perhaps he would have a chance of success after all... it was only a matter of time before exhaustion took hold.

    Shaking his head quickly to turn his mind back towards the promise of cooked meat, the wastelander finished preparing the corpse and proceeded to build a simple wooden spit over the fire with the few sticks he still had left. Impaling the carcass on the longest and sturdiest of his remaining wooden supply, Jackal set out to slowly cook the meat, eyes alight with eager anticipation as the meat slowly turned from blood red to a pleasantly smelling golden brown.

    Deeming the meat ready, he split the resulting meal in two with the dagger he cleaned during the short time it took for the spit and fire to do its job. Putting his share carefully on his laps and wincing slightly at the heat, he extended the second part to the stranger, secretly bemoaning the sacrifice.

    “Here, eat.” His tone was gruff, but sharing had never been his strong point.
  8. The smell of food cooking had helped him stay awake, his stomach almost constantly rumbling. It was a good rabbit he had caught, the wait had been worth it. Or, it had been until the stranger had taken it. He had no expectation to taste any of it now, so when the stranger reached him half, his eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise. Then he quickly took it, not giving the stranger a chance to change his mind.

    The flesh was juicy and tender, fat dripping down his chin. It was hot enough to burn is tongue, but he continued chewing and swallowing, almost forgetting to breath. After only a few minutes, the bones where picked clean and he sucked the marrow out of the larger ones. Then the bones got thrown into the fire, and he licked his fingers before wiping his chin with his sleeve.

    He was still hungry, but the meal had definitely helped, and he felt energi move through his body, making him perk up a little. It was still tempting to lie down and sleep by the fire, and with a warm meal in the belly, it would probably have been the best sleep in a long time. Except for the ‘being killed in your sleep’ part.

    He kept glancing to the corner of his eye to see what the stranger was doing, every muscle ready to jump away any second if he tried anything. «I’ll leave soon,» he said and pulled the hood over his head, hoping the stranger would keep up his hospitality for a little longer. He just wanted to get thoroughly warm before he walked back into the cold and dark wilderness…
  9. The feel of having nutrient rich food in his body was the greatest pleasure Jackal had in a while, and he had no intention of letting it go so easily. The other would leave, but unknown to him, the bandit would follow. During his life, the dark man had found a knack for stealth, and he would use it like never before in order to follow and spy on the stranger without being found ut or even sensed at all. He knew he could do it, especially with the other looking so wretched, yet he was a little worried about losing sight of him in the dark, as while decent enough, his eyesight had never been that great, especially when things were at a distance from him.

    He would have to be careful, and look for hints of how the hunter managed his spoils in order to both learn of his techniques and to potentially steal some of his prizes when he slept or was distracted elsewhere. Slow and steady, with a good sense of where and when to push his luck, that was what kept Jackal alive this long. Looking piercingly at Quint, the bandit acquiesced with a sharp nod before looking back into the fire, never letting himself doze off nor letting the other out of his peripheral vision. Now was the time to enjoy his last fire in a while, for from tomorrow on he would be forced to forgo it in order to remain unnoticed.

    It would be a long while, indeed... his bones already ached at the thought of the cold and dangerous nights ahead. He had to, however, for unless he found a way to get good food on his own, he would not last much longer in this weather.
  10. When he felt himself getting drowsy again, he stood up and stretched, rolling his neck and shoulders before picking up his bag and bow. Without a look or a word to the stranger, he walked off. After a quick glance at the stars he found the right direction and moved forward at a brisk pace, eager to get as much distance as possible between them. Sharing a meal and fire didn't make the guy any less dangerous.

    With every few steps, he threw a look over his shoulder, making sure he wasn't suddenly running after him with a knife. When the fire once again turned into a small, yellow dot in the darkness, he started to relax and trust on his feet to warn him of anyone sneaking up behind him. He also dug a sort of flask he had made out of leather, containing water. He drank two mouthfuls before forcing himself to put it away again. It had to last as long as possible, since it was impossible to know when he would be able to fill it up again.

    It looked to be sooner than he had feared though, as he came over some fertile land when the horizon started to lighten. There where different plants growing in the light soil, and they got larger as he walked on. When tall bushes where surrounding him, he found a group that stood particular close together, and lied down in the middle. He had to get some rest before he could look for water or go hunting. So, with a small knife ready in his right hand and the bag hunder his head, he lied on his side and closed his eyes, quickly falling into the restless sleep he was used to.
  11. It took longer than Jackal had expected for the stranger to weaken enough to his obvious exhaustion to leave his campfire behind. While it gave him more time to bask in the last embers of warmth he would get to enjoy in a while, the bandit was irked that the other man apparently choose the darkest and coldest time of night to take his leave of him. He had hoped that they would leave a bit closer to dawn where it was warmer and easier to see ahead, honestly, as his eyesight struggled enough as is at night without adding a stealthy chase to the mix. Moreover, the cursed hunter kept an eye on him every few steps are he walked away, forcing the bandit to think quickly and make a decoy of most of his remaining supplies in order to not loose Quint's trace in the distant dark.

    Gritting his teeth against the cold ahead and securing what he could bring with him to the battered belt around his waist, Jackal set out to tail the man he had yet to identify as deaf. There had a surprising amount of close calls due to the stranger's paranoid vigil on the camp (but then again was it still paranoia if he really was really out to get him?) and a few unfortunate change of winds that nearly gave away the unwashed bandit's scent. Still, he succeeded, and when his quarry settled among bushes in a more fertile area, Jackal took refuge behind a cluster of big rocks near a small lake.

    This hideout would provide him with fresh water and vegetation to eat, but it was still cold despite the shelter of the boulders, and he would not be able to overcome Quint in his sleep while he was hidden in such a noisy and dependable location. Pity, but he would have to keep to his more prudent plan. Leaning low against the boulders with a small blanket of high grass, Jackal fell into the lightest sleep he could.
  12. The day was closing in on its warmest hours when Quint crawled out of the bushes again, feeling a tiny bit more rested. He stood still for a few heartbeats, feeling after vibrations and looking for signs that someone might be nearby, but there was nothing to alarm he. So he walked a little further on before he found another bush to hide his bag in, making sure that the vegetation looked untouched for any passersby. Then he walked on with only his bow and arrows.

    Moving slowly through the vegetation, waiting seconds between each step, he had his senses on high alert and weapon ready in hands. He could feel his heart beat in his chest, once again wondering if anyone was able to hear it. It didn't seem like it though, because as long as he made sure to keep is steps light and breathing shallow, some creature always showed up eventually. Within half an hour he had caught some kind of large rodent, and even a bird - which always felt like a big win since they were harder to spot.

    With both creatures secured with a strap to his belt, he began heading back for his stuff, now at a more normal pace, but feet still light. The arrow had survived taken down the two creatures, so he once again held it ready in case he happened to meet any more on his way. It would be stupid to miss the chance for an even larger meal.

    He didn't meet what he had hoped for, but he wasn't surprised either. Of course the stranger had followed him, he new the night had gone too easy. He was sure it was him, smelling him before he even saw him. Quint slowly walked around a bush and rested the arrow on his thumb, raising his bow and pulling the string tight, pointing it at the person currently digging through his bag. Then he cleared his throat, and for the strangers sake hoped that he didn't think Quint could miss with a barely ten feet distance.
  13. It had been a bad idea to risk it. Of course it was, Jackal knew that the only safe time to rummage through someone else's belongings was when they were taken out of the count, one way or another. Yet his desperation at another night in the cold dark and his renewed hunger spurred on by the memory of the hot and filling rabbit he had eaten the night previous had thrown away the last pitiful control he had over himself. He had awoken at the very first sound of the other man moving out of his hiding spot, the sound of something that jingled and of a body passing through sturdy bushes like an alarm to the bandit's restless mind.

    Taking his position as a sentry as quickly and as silently as he could, the brunet peeked between the high grass around a corner of the boulders that sheltered him from view as the mysterious hunter got ready for his day of hunting. Nearly cursing out loud as he could only get a vague idea of where the stranger put his supplies and with his legs having fallen asleep too much during his time asleep to follow silently at a distance, Jackal was left with only the option to search for the supplies himself once Quint had gone out of view and earshot.

    It took longer than he had hoped, with the man being so careful and his mind fuzzy with sleep for the thief to find his prize, hidden neatly in a thick bush. That time, his annoyed mindset and the noise he had to make to go through the supplies he found all cooperated to make it so that he was caught, a clearing of the throat and the sight of a readied arrow pointed at him making his dusky skin turn a sickly white color.

    After a moment or two of shock, amber eyes narrowed in angry defeat and the bandit slowly stood back up, making his way slowly away from his lost prize without losing sight of his would-be killer. Sighing between clenched teeth, Jackal slowly and carefully removed his blades from his person and showed his emptied hands well away from his sides.

    “I should have known... well then, you caught me. So... what will it be, boy?” while he had accepted he may die from that arrow that day, Jackal's expression was no less mulish and vicious as he hissed these words.
  14. Every muscle were tense and ready for action when the man stood up, Quint’s eyes following his every move. Even though he did drop his knife, he didn’t feel the slightly more relaxed. Who knew how many other knives he had one him, or maybe something worse. This was definietly not the time to put down his guard.

    Every day he woke up he knew well that it might be his last. That was the reality of living in this world. But, he had no plans on giving up easy. Whenever his time would come, he was going to make the person responsible pay for it as much as possible. He was not going to be some helpless deaf guy who didn’t put up a fight. Still, he didn’t like killing anyone unless he really had to. It wouldn’t be hard from this distance though. Even if he did miss his heart, the man didn’t look well enough to just jump right on up and attack before Quint had time to reach for another arrow.

    He could see that he was saying something, but it was hard watching his lips and his hands at the same time. Especially the way this man talked. It looked like he was trying to press the words out through his teeth rather than actually saying them. Something about ‘caught’ and ‘boy’…

    Standing there in the high vegetation, he knew he was vulnerable. It was harder for him to see here if anyone was sneaking up behind him. So if the man wasn’t alone after all, he could be in real trouble now. At that thought, he could feel it pricking down his neck. Not sure if it was just his imagination, he tok a quick glance to each side, barely moving his head. Then he immediately took a step forward and tightened his grip around the bow, still pointing it at his chest.

    «Don’t move!» he said, taking his time with each word to make sure they came out right. He also tried to speak loud, in case anyone nearby was listening in, but after having not spoken for so long, he wasn’t that good at judging his volume anymore. «If anything, or anyone moves, I’ll shot!»
  15. A potent brew of disbelief and panic surged through Jackal's body, making his skin prickle and his blood seem to freeze in his veins as the bandit tried to stay as immobile as he possibly could. His eyes were wide and dilated, his breath fast and short, and his pulse thundering in his ears as he desperately tried to make himself think logically in this deadly fuck up he managed to land himself into. The man before him was clearly paranoid, and at the end of his rope... a dangerous man to be sure.

    Not daring to move else he be put down like the animal he bore the name, the brunet could feel a shiver running down his spine as he looked at the other man. He was unarmed, and even if he was not, he was not fool enough to think that he could outrun an already notched and aimed arrow from someone who obliviously knew his way around a bow. As his eyesight swam in his helpless panic, a series of quick cries coming from farther away let loose a veritable Pandora's box worth of chaos.

    Flinching as seeing the other man tremble in his hold over his weapon, Jackal was not proud of what happened in the heat of the moment. Simply put, his ailing health and the stress of the situation quickly put him out cold, his body collapsing on the ground like a filthy rag doll.
  16. Quint was about to let loose his arrow when he saw the man starting to move, but stopped himself when he realized he was falling down. After looking around and making sure no one was sneaking up on him, he slowly stepped closer and looked down at his face. The man seemed to be out cold, but that was probably just a trick to get Quint to put his guard down.

    "Hey, I'm not stupid! I'll still shoot!" He yelled and pointed the arrow at him. There was no reaction, and after counting three heartbeats, he kicked him hard in the hip. That would definitely hurt enough to stop anyone's acting. "You really fainted?" He asked, shaking his head a little. How old was he?

    With quick and trained movements of his hands, he exanged the bow with his knife. He bent down with a rope in his hands and the knife in his mouth for easy access if he suddenly needed it. The mans hand got tied up, finishing with one of the best knots he knew. Then he nudged him into the shadow of the bush so he wouldn't fry in the sun.

    So, no one had attacked him from behind. This man was alone. And he was desperate, seeing as he went through people's things at such a stupid place. Quint would never have done that where he didn't have a clear view of his surroundings. Following him around also seemed pretty desperate. What did he even want? Quint didn't have anything that valuable in his bag. It must have been a disappointing sight.

    While he waited for him to wake up, he started on his breakfast. Cleaning the catch and getting a fire started. It would be a wonderful meal.
  17. A gritty and strangely coppery layer of... something coated his mouth. That must have been the first thing he noticed when Jackal came back to his senses. He was on the hard ground, which was no rare occurrence, yet the fact that he was sore and could not remember how he came to be sleeping in the first place was unnerving to the bandit. He usually was careful about sleep, and made sure to put plenty of traps and alarms of all sorts around his perimeter in order to be aware of intruders. Did he get so sick as to forget all about what happened last night?

    No... something was wrong. For one thing, he could move neither his arms or legs. It was as if... they were bound.

    Amber eyes snapping open in alarm, Jackal started to try to remove his bonds with a breathless desperation, reminders of the last few times he was this vulnerable making themselves known to his unfortunately and rather suddenly crystal clear recollection. Making a racket and grunting under the strain, he looked around, furious and determined to find the source of his most current plight.

    Finding that it was the strange hunter, and that the man was surrounded by what was obliviously a very satisfying meal made Jackal furious, and forgetting his current position in his rage he bellowed:

    “What the fuck do you think you are doing? Let me go, you bastard!”
  18. When the man finally woke, Quint instantly tensed up and prepared himself to fight back, but that was apparently unnecessary. The man just wiggled around like a lost worm and didn’t seem in any shape to jump up and attack him. So Quint let the knife stay where it rested on his kne, and instead focused on the rodents thigh he had just torn of. The bird was still grilling, making the small camp smell amazing.

    Keeping an eye on the man, he bit into the thigh. It was surprisingly juicy. He wiped fat of his chin while he chewed when the man finally noticed him and spoke up. He seemed angry, and the yelling made it impossible to see what he was saying. Quint doubted it was anything important anyway. Probably some empty threats, since there wasn’t much the man could do. He was tied up and had no weapons on him - Quint had made sure of that.

    «Why are you following me?» he asked, taking his time with each word to make sure he said them right. Hopefully the man understood him. «What do you want?»

    Quint knew this was stupid and potentially dangerous. Even though the man was tied up and weaponless, this could quickly end very badly if he didn’t watch out. The man was bigger than him, and he had a slight upper hand with being able to hear things. For all Quint knew, someone could be sneaking up at him this second. The thought made it prickle in his neck, but he forced himself not to turn around and check. The man was alone, or someone would probably have already attacked him. At least that was what he was telling himself, while another voice kept insisting that he should have killed him. It was after all pretty safe to be around a dead man.
    #18 Ashlio, Nov 25, 2015
    Last edited: Nov 26, 2015
  19. The mouthwatering smell of cooked meat was nearly painful to his starved senses, and Jackal could not help but let out a pitiful whimper as the stranger bit into what seemed to be a fried rodent's thigh. It looked so good, so full of life-giving fat and succulent flesh... he couldn't take it much longer! Glaring hatefully at his captor, the brunet spit into the ground, idly noting the reddish tint to his spit as he did so.

    “Really? You didn't figure it out yet?” Looking into the other's eyes with a frustrated sigh, he shook his head in disbelief before trying to distract himself with the fire before him, hair a dirty curtain over part of his face.

    “I'm so hungry I would do anything to eat, even following a bastard like you...”

    The whisper took some time to leave his lips, but there was no truer words said by him in quite a long time. He was sick and he was starving, so instead of dying like a dog, he would rather try his luck like a jackal. Dying by a blade was better than dying by his own weakness, after all. No sooner did that thought leave his mind that his thin body was racked by harsh coughing rasps, his stint camping without proper warmth having done a number on his already failing health.

    “Give me food, and I'll give you my services, how about that?” His voice was hoarse and thin like an old man's, but he didn't care as long as there was still hope for a full belly. Lifting his head, he looked at the other expectantly.
  20. Quint just sat looking at him while he coughed, and made sure the knife was still within easy reach. If this was some attempt to get him of his guard, it didn't work. The stranger could cough up a lunge for all he cared, he wouldn’t move a single inch to help him.

    When the stranger looked up again, Quint waited for him to explain what he was supposed to have figured out. But he just looked at him, like he was expecting him to think it out for himself. Okay, so he thought he had something valuable on him? Or he was…thirsty? No, that would be stupid, it was water not far from here. Hungry then? He didn’t have any food in his backpack though...

    Quint sighed with annoyance that the man didn’t just come out and say it. «What?! What am I suppose to figure out?» he asked and gripped his knife while staring angrily at the man. Did he really thing he was in any position to mess with him? «Tell me why you’re following me! Now!»
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