Survival (Peregrine x Jalapeno)

[Jalapenohitchhiker]

Sayvel woke to the smell of freshly cooked meat, and her eyes snapped open. She could see the sun's rays peering through the underbrush and the various small birds and insects going about their daily business. The day looked like it would be a peaceful one. She had not taken the time to appreciate the beauty of the forest until now. It was the most peaceful sleep she had found in days, and she felt more energized than she ever did since she fled Noror. She did not want to be a burden to such a welcoming man, but she could help but feel that she could get used to having him around. But despite how friendly her surroundings seemed for the moment she knew that danger was still lurking. The force that attacked Noror was still out there. There were hundreds of goblins from what she saw, and a dragon that rivaled the size of a small mountain. And while she did not want to believe it, she could have sworn she saw a demon...

She snapped out of her thoughts when her eyes fell upon the deer leg roasting over the fire. At first she could not tell how long her strange friend had been awake, but he had already started preparing their breakfast and looked to be getting on with a few other chores as well. The sun was still on the rise, though still distant from midday. He must have woken at sunrise. That was the hour she would awake at every day when she was only a young girl. She loved getting up early and taking her mare Angel for a morning ride through the fields behind the keep. She was never allowed to ride beyond the palace gates, but she always pretended that she was off somewhere distant on an adventure. How foolish she was then to think that the world would welcome her so easily. What she would not give to have Angel with her now.

A twig snapped in the fire and a few flares spurted out. Sayvel looked up at the man before her with curious awe. "When are we leaving for the mountains? I must get there quickly. It is not safe here, even for you." She grabbed a stick and attempted to draw a picture of the mountains in the dirt again, tapping them with the broken branch to emphasize her point. She was grateful for his help and especially for his protection, but none of that would matter if they were found by those monsters that destroyed Noror.

When she saw that he was still not fully understanding, she sighed with frustration and put a hand to her head. He simply went on with cooking the deer leg. She stood up and looked over the meat hungrily. "I can help you. I learned a little about cooking when I lived in Noror. I know how to make it taste better." She tried to make motions with her hands to help him understand, gesturing a few times to herself, to the leg, and to him. She needed a better method of communication, but what?

 

[Peregrine]

Sayvel was talking about the mountains again. Why did she insist on asking him about them? He had already told her there was nothing for her in the mountains that the jungle couldn't provide. In fact, if anything, the jungles were a far better caretaker than the mountains could ever be. Here, the only precipitation that fell was rain. And, even if it was damp, most of the time it was warm. But, some mornings, he woke to see the peaks of the mountains dusted in white. He knew that would be a killer, were you trapped in it without adequate shelter. In the jungle, all you would get was wet.

So he ignored her, certain that if he continued to show the perfection of the jungle to her she would eventually give up the fancy of travel. The leg was almost done, and Sayvel was pointing to it. She wanted to help? It was pretty much unnecessary, as it was almost done. Still, she seemed eager to do something, so he pulled out one of his flint knives and quickly cut off a slice. He stuck that in his mouth, as it was one of the ones most covered in charcoal, and cut off a slice of the fresher meat for her. He offered it, a smile on his face.

 

[Jalapenohitchhiker]

She frowned at the piece he offered her. He was obviously not understanding what she meant, and while she knew she should not have expected anything less it was frustrating her all the same. She did not want to feel useless. She was capable of helping. Gone were the days of her needing five different servants to assist her with the simplest of tasks. It was time to learn to survive in the wilderness, and she was not going to get any better if she did not start soon.

She wandered over to where he kept his stash of items under the tree. Truth be told she did not have the slightest idea how to make one of these contraptions herself, but she would learn soon enough. Anything was better than sitting around while this man she barely knew did everything for her. Her eyes lit up when she found some small herbs. They looked very similar to the ones Creya had shown her during a few months ago. If she recalled correctly the name of the plant was lisenya, or sunlock in the common tongue. They added a brilliant spice to whatever it was sprinkled over. She had not doubt that they would do well to accentuate the deer's leg.

With a few of the leaves in hand, Sayvel meandered back over to the fire and smirked confidently. Before she could grind up the leaves, however, Aldan had taken hold of her hands tightly. She had not realized how strong he was until that moment. "What are you... ah... please let go. You're hurting me..." The herbs fell from her hands and she felt his grasp release. Falling backwards, she looked up at him with a confused sadness. What had he done that for? Did he really believe she would ruin his meal by adding a few herbs?

Her hand was not in pain. In truth it was the suddenness of it all that had struck her the most. Had it not been for his enormous size that seemed to dwarf her own, she would have said more than a few unkind words to him regardless of whether or not he could understand them. But she then noticed him making a few motions with his hands towards the leaves. He picked them up and began pointing at them while shaking his head. The big man grabbed a stick a began drawing in the dirt just as she had before. He drew a circle around the herbs then a terrible picture of what she assumed was a woman. It was obviously meant to be her. He then drew a line from the herbs to the woman and made a large X over her.

It dawned on Sayvel what he meant. They were not leaves of lisenya. They were from some sort of poisonous plant. She nearly ruined the meat he had caught for them. To say she felt foolish would be an understatement, and suddenly she once again felt like the young little girl who needed help with every chore. She looked at him apologetically and her face went bright red. "I'm sorry. I didn't know. Please teach me how you do these things, how you know what is dangerous and what is not." She made all sorts of gestures while she spoke, though hoping he would get the full message was probably asking for a little much.

 

[Peregrine]

Aldan happily threw the stick away as soon as Sayvel made it clear that she was not going to try and eat the plants again. He was not one for drawing, but he also had remembered how badly his last attempt at miming had gone. Then it hadn't been all that important. Now it was a matter of life or severe indigestion. As doodles certainly seemed to be her favorite way of communicating, he had been more than content to resort to that, he was just glad his message had gotten across.

Once more he found himself desperately longing for the memory of words, for the ability to shape his tongue and lips into the correct shapes, and make the noises that had once so easily conveyed meaning between himself and... others. Others that were fuzzy in his memory, and had left him alone long, long ago.

He picked up the scraps of leaves, holding them lightly in his fingers. Luckily, the small bits of residue that would come off on his fingers would not be enough to bring him real harm. In fact, in very small doses, these herbs could prove to be a great laxative. In large doses, they could cause you to die of dehydration.

He placed them gently in the palm of one big hand, and pointed to his eye with the other hand. He picked up one of the leaves gently, and handed it back to Sayvel. He waited for her to study it, pointing back to his eye whenever she seemed ready to hand it back. There was no easy way to know what was eatable and what was not in the jungle. It all came from repetition, a sharp memory, and a keen eye for detail.

He rubbed the plant lightly between two fingers, first with the grain of the leaf, and then across it. He continued the motion until Sayvel began to imitate him. Moving with the grain was easy enough, but as soon as her fingers began to rub across it tiny fibers in the leaf began to grab at her fingers. It wasn't painful, wasn't even unpleasant, just obvious.

Finally he accepted the plant back. He folded it carefully, before crushing it between his fingers. He then brought it towards her face, pushing it ever closer until she was finally forced to smell it. His methods were certainly not the most polite, but they always got his point across as efficiently as possible.

In the smell it was easiest to distinguish this plant from the one that he knew Sayvel had been looking for. While the other one let out a strong and slightly acidic smell, this one was undoubtedly bitter. The reason he had not started with that was because all senses needed to be combined to truly be able to recognize a plant. Smell was well and good, but experience had taught Aldan that it was not enough. Not enough by far. Even sight and smell could sometimes not be enough. But touch and, if you knew for a fact that there were no deadly variations among the relatives, taste could narrow down from three possibilities to only one. And, when your life could potentially be at risk, you had to narrow it down to one.

Aldan returned to the leg, which was now starting to become a little over-cooked. He quickly pulled it off of the fire, ignoring the scaling sensation in his fingers with little more than a grimace. He beckoned Sayvel over, setting the leg down on a warm rock. The knife strapped to his waist was quickly in his hands, and he began to slice into the meat carefully. He laid it out in strips, inviting Sayvel to eat as much as she wanted. He too, ate his fill. By the end there was just a little bit of meat left over. He would leave it on the rocks, the heat slowly evaporating the moisture until it would turn into a type of chewy jerky he could store with the rest of his dried food.

 

[Jalapenohitchhiker]

Feeling like a complete fool for her failure to recognize the danger in the leaves, Sayvel was more determined now to learn the keys to survival. Had she been alone out here she would have easily poisoned herself with those. The fact that it had not happened yet at all was a miracle in itself. But she would not let it happen again, or at least that was what she told herself. It would take some time but she would learn what was okay and what was not. Until then she would have to refrain from trying to "help" at all for fear of accidentally poisoning either herself or her new companion.

It still concerned her that he was not taking her to the mountains yet, but they were going by his time, not here's. He knew the forest better than she did, and if waiting was the better option for now than so be it. But she could not shake the feeling that there would be goblins upon them soon… or worse. Did he know of the dangers that were lurking in the forest already? He knew of what naturally occurred there, that was probably true. But the recent developments in Noror and other villages was new entirely. He had no contact with other people, so the only way for him to know would be if he had seen these occurrences himself.

Gratefully accepting the meat, Sayvel bit into her share hungrily. It was cooked tenderly to a darkened crisp, and she relished it with a sudden gratefulness. Like the rabbit, it did not share a satisfying flavor, but it was definitely filling. There was still a good bit of it left by the time she had finished her share, and when he offered her more she had to refuse. Her ability to hold a lot of food had shrunk in the past few days. At least it meant she did not have to worry about finding a lot of food for every meal. But even if she did, her new friend was likely to bring her something well beyond what she needed anyway.

After they had both finished wall they could eat, Sayvel stood up and pointed to his knife. "I want to learn how to hunt," she stated as clearly as possible. While speaking, she made a gesture as if she was shooting a bow. Then she pointed at the remains of the deer leg, hoping he would get the message. She would ask about the mountains again later, but for now the important thing was surviving. Her brothers and her father had often gone hunting during seasons of harvest, but she had never been allowed to go. Her mother and the other ladies of the court insisted that she must maintain her elegance and not participate in such activities. Appearance meant everything for a woman of noble birth.

Now, however, maintaining ladylike composure was a thing of the past. Had she not been so close to death multiple times within the past month she probably would have enjoyed her freedom. She certainly enjoyed it while she was in Noror. The villagers there cared little, if at all, for her appearance. She was treated as an honored guest most of the time, though not royally by any means.

The only weapon she had on her was a knife, and one that she had little a ability to wield at that. But she had always been an admirer of archery. If he possessed any equipment for that then she would be more than willing to learn. And it would greatly improve her hunting abilities. Not only that, but if they indeed came across danger like she feared they might, she would not be completely useless. And if for some reason he was no longer able to fight or hunt then someone would have to take care of him as well.

 

[Peregrine]

At first Aldan was quite hesitant about the idea of teaching Sayvel to hunt. He stared at her blankly in a manner that would almost certainly convince her that he had no clue what exactly she wanted from him. But the more he thought about it the more attractive the idea became. Aldan had no qualms with the idea of taking care of her for as long as was necessary, but he also could not deny that it would be a wonderful thing if they could go hunting together. He had no doubts that it would take a long time before she would be capable enough to join him on a real hunt, but he could show her the snares, show her some more plants, and start teaching her how to handle a knife, machete, bow, and hatchet. If nothing else, chopping up a little bit of firewood would give her a feel for how the ax moved.

He stood up, and quickly lowered down the bag of food, placing the last of the semi-burnt deer meat into it. The meat was not properly smoked and would not last as long as most of his jerky, but it would be safe in there until they could eat it with dinner. He would take Sayvel along today to check the traps, and they could spend a good portion of the day gathering roots and herbs to replenish his suddenly dwindling supply.

As soon as the food was re-strung from the tree he returned to Sayvel and grabbed her hand, tugging her off towards the forest. Later today when the light was starting to fade he would get her to restart the fire, and have her chop some wood.

Aldan guided Sayvel through the woods patiently, content to slowly teach her some of the right ways to move through the forest. Mostly he let her experiment on her own, with small corrections here and there to slowly make her progress more smooth. She had picked up some good technique on her lone trek through the woods, but there were certain actions that seemed counter-intuitive to anyone but someone who had spent almost all of his life alone in the jungle.

The first snare was still primed. Aldan had to grab Sayvel around the shoulders to keep her from walking into the trap again, although this one would have done little more than bruise her legs. He quickly pointed out the subtle signs of a trap, a bent branch, the rope, and the trigger, before guiding her around it. From now on he would do nothing to protect her from any traps except the deadly ones. Pain was one of the best teachers.

The next trap had been sprung, although it had caught nothing. Aldan was halfway through resetting it before he remembered that he was out here as much to teach Sayvel about his techniques as he was to actually set the traps. He quickly undid his work, before redoing it slowly, allowing Sayvel to watch his actions. Once it was set he pulled her back a little ways and sprung it. The trap quickly came unwound, settling into a position very similar to the one in which they had found it.

Aldan grinned toothily, before gesturing towards the trap. It was her turn now.

 

[Jalapenohitchhiker]

At first he did not indicate that he understood her attempted request to learn about survival and the ways of the forest. Once he put up his food and supplies, however, he grabbed her by the hand a little more forcefully than she would have liked. She made an initial attempt to resist, though she was much smaller and weaker than him. He knew nothing of manners or chivalry. Perhaps she could teach him the art of proper etiquette while he taught her how to hunt and survive in the wilderness. But manners were not exactly the most necessary of utilities in the wild, and he would likely see the endeavor as pointless. She could teach him how to talk though. It might take some time, but it would at least not make her feel completely useless. She wouldn't be able to teach him much before they reached the mountains, but maybe she could convince him to stay there with her. As long as they came across a friendly village they would be taken in and assisted. And if they came across an unfriendly village... that was not something she cared to think about right now.

He dragged her into the forest and eventually let go. She rubbed her hand lightly, as it felt a little sore from the strength of his grip. She waited for him to do something, but instead he was just looking at her. He flicked his eyes toward a small flower sitting near a pale oak. It looked a little bit like a periwinkle, though the tips were a bright yellow that made it unrecognizable to her. What was she supposed to do with that? He still did not move, only watching her to see what she would do. Eventually she knelt down in front of the pretty little thing and touched the pedals, feeling the softness of each one. It felt almost like thin parchment, delicate and easily torn. A vague memory floated into her head, one in which she was used to hearing many people call her a delicate flower.

Sayvel remembered the method she was shown earlier. A small tug on one of the pedals pulled it loose and she rubbed it between her fingers until most of it was nothing more than a few raw bits. She held it in the palm of her hand and sniffed it, making sure to keep it at a fair enough distance to prevent any of it from flying up her nose. It did not have to be very close for her to get a waft of an extremely putrid smell, one that reminded her of the stables back home, though much more nauseating. She shook the remnants of the pedal out of her hand and scrunched her nose in disgust. This was learning. She would have preferred to just be given each important plant and then told which ones were good and which ones were bad. But that was clearly not the method by which her new friend was acquainted with. It occurred to her then that she had nothing to address him as. That would do no good.

As they continued on, Sayvel examined all of the different plants she could find. She was not inclined to taste any of them right now. Getting sick was the last thing she cared for, though her recent struggles made her feel somewhat ill almost all the time. But she did make sure to smell each one and get a good feeling of the texture for all of them. Some were rather rough and others were rubbery. She immediately disregarded any that felt similar to the poison she almost sprinkled on their meal, and others she kept to examine more closely later on. All the while she continued to think of a good name for him. She would have liked to name her after brother Evrin, but it did not really suit him. Evrin was much smaller and quicker on his feet. But she did recall a legend she was told of as a child. It was about Bramlin the Wanderer, a man from the far eastern part of the world that traveled everywhere and learned about the people, places, and cultures of his many destinations. It was as fitting a name as she could think of, and she grinned when it popped into her head. "Bramlin. That will be your name. I am sure you were given a different one at your birth, but until I teach you how to talk that will be difficult to learn."

Sayvel and Bramlin continued to walk through the forest, and Sayvel continued to learn more about her surroundings. She nearly yelped when he suddenly grabbed her shoulder yanked her backwards. She would have snapped at him but immediately saw why he had done it. He was pointing to a snare that was cleverly hidden by the vines and rubble. How often was she going to get herself into trouble? Were it not for Bramlin she would probably have been killed or eaten by now. He took her to a second trap, one that had already been sprung. She watched closely as he reset the contraption. It would be useful to know how to set one in the future.

Why he sprung it immediately after resetting it was confusing, but the answer quickly became clear to her. She almost scoffed when he beckoned for her to do it as well, but he would not let her refuse. She was far too inexperienced and had only seen the technique once. But he would not be negotiated with, and not just because of his inability to speak. So Sayvel took hold of the rope and attempted to coil it around the branch again. Her hands shook and her pals were sweaty. When she had a loose knot made, her fingers slipped and the branch lashed out, nearly striking her. She fell back and cursed at herself for being so accident prone. Neither of her brothers were ever this clumsy.