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Scaltoth is dangerous. Jinyel had been hearing those words ever since he first set foot on Scalvoris. The laypeople knew it. It was why Toutouye refused to explore such a place. Gaul Jundland had laughed those words a hundred times since they had first met, and his apprentices kept cautious eyes on the horizon as their destination grew closer.
Scaltoth is dangerous, everyone said, ten times, then a hundred times, then a thousand. But no one had said a word about Scaltoth being beautiful.
The terrain changed quickly, as Scalvoris was wont to do. Temperate Ashan winds began to swelter. Soft grasses devoured one another and morphed into trees, and the sky was swallowed by leaves. The only thing thicker than the humid air was the noise, a constant symphony of birds, insects, and monkeys. Waters ran slow and green here, impossible to see through but teeming with creatures both violent and venomous. Even the trees seemed in constant struggle with one another ― Jinyel had seen some species which latticed itself around others as if to strangle them. Enormous tracks printed the mud, prey and predator alike, and it seemed every bend in the path brought the hunting party past freshly-cleaned bones or blood splatters across bark.
Everything was in constant motion. Everything was dangerous. Everything was hungry.
“Not as bad as it looks, if you know what you’re doing.” Gaul flashed a confident wink over his shoulder, to Jinyel and the other apprentices alike. “And if we know what we’re doing better than the quarry, we make the jungle work with us instead of against us.”
The quarry. Some canine beast larger than a man, with an unusual cleverness that had escaped capture more than once. The sort of cleverness which Gaul took personally enough to gather a team of hunters and end the creature for good.
Gaul was comfortable in Scaltoth, as were his two eldest apprentices. Jinyel did as they did, and after an hour’s ride they no longer glanced at him every few moments to be sure he wouldn’t die as soon as they stopped paying attention. He rode Ailuhn on the right flank of the party, Monya at his own right flank, and he was… at ease. Alert, but content.
Jinyel didn’t doubt the danger of Scaltoth for a moment. It was written in every track, every claw mark, every muddied bone they stepped over. But that overwhelming danger put him at ease, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that. How long had he struggled to tell what was dangerous and what was safe? Ever since arriving on Scalvoris, surely, doubly so whenever he was with people. People were mysterious. People were dangerous in ways he could not understand or predict. Even worse were those moments he knew there wasn’t any danger at all, because his body could never truly be calm. He could rationalize his surroundings however he wanted, but his body would always believe it stood on the edge of death.
Except here, now, everything aligned. He was exactly as tense as he needed to be. When twigs snapped, it was entirely reasonable to draw his bow. The danger wasn’t in his head; it was outside, on all sides, and his reactions were precisely the correct one.
No confusion. No delusion. Everything made sense. His mind and body were in perfect harmony.
“Gaul.” Jinyel spurred Ailuhn forward. Water, there, clear and clean. Sundown eventually. Camp?
Gaul Jundland wasn’t completely fluent in sign language, but hunters often had to move in silence and communicate with one another. He could understand at least half of what Jinyel meant.
“Running water? Point it out for me. Oh, there, I see ― good and clear.”
The jolly hunter glanced up, through the canopy and to a sun that was still two breaks away from dusk. Enough time to put some more distance behind them, but perhaps not enough to find another source of clean water if they abandoned this one.
“I see your point.” He gave Jinyel a toothy grin. “All of you, we’re changing course east. Along that stream there, let’s follow and pitch camp there once we find the headwaters.”
Everyone was efficient. Jinyel wasn’t accustomed to that. Once they found the spring’s source, Gaul Jundland’s camp took full shape in less than half a break. Everyone already knew exactly how much space they needed, and through quiet glances and the placement of equipment, they knew how much Jinyel needed, too. With such wet ground, the party opted for hammocks instead of flat bedrolls, with a simple waxed tarp strung overhead to keep off rain. Considering Scaltoth’s warmth, little was required in the way of bedding, although the heat brought its own miseries in the form of insect swarms. A pale yellow lotion was passed around camp, described as a bug repellant.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Gaul asked as he swung by Jinyel’s section of camp. “It’ll keep the biters off you like magic.”
No. Jinyel emphasised his answer with a shake of his head. “That glow, just north of us.” What is it?
“The glow?” Gaul frowned and looked into the distance. “Well, Scaltoth has all sorts of things that glow. Just north of us ― you mean that glow tree out there?”
Excitement! What? Why does it do that?
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Best not to go poking things in the jungle unless you absolutely have to.”
Agreement, absolutely. “How long of a ride there and back?” A break? Less?
Gaul raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I just said it’s best not to go poking.”
Understood. However, I absolutely have to.
“Why?”
Because it’s a tree and it’s glowing. I cannot comprehend how you wouldn’t go poke it.
“You don’t know what it’s made of. It could explode. It could poof out a bunch of pollen and kill you.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“That’s a weird way to sign ‘no.’”
It’s a glowing tree.
“I brought you on this trip because you’re almost as good a hunter as you are a cook. I can afford to lose a good hunter, but I refuse to lose a good cook."
Simple, then. I’ll go look at it after dinner.
“I’d rather have you around for tomorrow’s dinner, too.”
No worry, I’ll cook tomorrow, too.
“Listen. You’ve never been in this jungle before.”
I know.
“You don’t know it like I do.”
Yet.
“Just stay in the camp.”
No.
Gaul ran a tired hand over his face. “Of course you’re a lunatic. Should have known from you wearing boulder snake skin like a petticoat. You couldn’t have told me you’re a lunatic before we got here?”
Oh, genuine apology. “I’m a lunatic. I have to understand everything, all the time, forever. That tree glows so I need to know why.”
“Saiore’s bloody turtle tits…” He shook his head. “And what about the plants that paralyze you? What about the sentient ones that know you’re coming? What about the bats that regrow limbs, the vines that drink blood? What about all the cannibals and disease beasts?”
Absolute shock… How do I find each of those things, in that order?
“Alright, so no stories for you.” The words seemed to genuinely surprise Gaul. “And Immortals know I love to tell a good story but we’re going to wait until we’re out of this damned place.”
Wait, no! Stories! Tell me. I’ll listen.
“And you’ll get yourself killed before we get to breakfast. Come on, Jon Little spotted one of those spicy meat banana trees, they’ll bring back―”
“Spicy meat banana trees?”
“Yes, bananas that taste like meat, will that keep you from running straight to a colossithecus den?”
“What’s a colossithecus?”
“A big interesting thing I’ll tell you about after we’ve hunted our game. I’m not the most sensible man myself, so far be it from me to judge that weird sparkle in your eye, but I brought you on to help kill one specific thing that wants to kill you, not poke at every deadly thing that crosses our path.”
Jinyel grimaced. Gaul let him huff and ponder as if they had all the time in the world.
I understand, Jinyel said with great reluctance. I came to hunt at your side, and so your place is my place until that oath is fulfilled.[/knowledge]
Until everyone else was asleep, at least. Gaul’s points were reasonable ― Jinyel was certain he would make the same ones himself, if their positions were reversed. To hunt in a team demanded reliance, and a great deal of trust to go with it. The two of them acknowledged each other's skill, but no amount of skill could make up for unpredictability. By all accounts, their quarry was as dangerous as anything else in this jungle: some sort of mutant hyena that had grown to the size of a man, with intelligence to evade Gaul more than once. Gaul and Jinyel needed to trust each other.
It would be better, then, if Jinyel didn’t tell anyone about his trip to the glow tree. Until he had an opportunity to sneak out, ‘spicy meat bananas’ were more than strange enough to hold his attention.
Scaltoth is dangerous, everyone said, ten times, then a hundred times, then a thousand. But no one had said a word about Scaltoth being beautiful.
The terrain changed quickly, as Scalvoris was wont to do. Temperate Ashan winds began to swelter. Soft grasses devoured one another and morphed into trees, and the sky was swallowed by leaves. The only thing thicker than the humid air was the noise, a constant symphony of birds, insects, and monkeys. Waters ran slow and green here, impossible to see through but teeming with creatures both violent and venomous. Even the trees seemed in constant struggle with one another ― Jinyel had seen some species which latticed itself around others as if to strangle them. Enormous tracks printed the mud, prey and predator alike, and it seemed every bend in the path brought the hunting party past freshly-cleaned bones or blood splatters across bark.
Everything was in constant motion. Everything was dangerous. Everything was hungry.
“Not as bad as it looks, if you know what you’re doing.” Gaul flashed a confident wink over his shoulder, to Jinyel and the other apprentices alike. “And if we know what we’re doing better than the quarry, we make the jungle work with us instead of against us.”
The quarry. Some canine beast larger than a man, with an unusual cleverness that had escaped capture more than once. The sort of cleverness which Gaul took personally enough to gather a team of hunters and end the creature for good.
Gaul was comfortable in Scaltoth, as were his two eldest apprentices. Jinyel did as they did, and after an hour’s ride they no longer glanced at him every few moments to be sure he wouldn’t die as soon as they stopped paying attention. He rode Ailuhn on the right flank of the party, Monya at his own right flank, and he was… at ease. Alert, but content.
Jinyel didn’t doubt the danger of Scaltoth for a moment. It was written in every track, every claw mark, every muddied bone they stepped over. But that overwhelming danger put him at ease, and he wasn’t sure what to think about that. How long had he struggled to tell what was dangerous and what was safe? Ever since arriving on Scalvoris, surely, doubly so whenever he was with people. People were mysterious. People were dangerous in ways he could not understand or predict. Even worse were those moments he knew there wasn’t any danger at all, because his body could never truly be calm. He could rationalize his surroundings however he wanted, but his body would always believe it stood on the edge of death.
Except here, now, everything aligned. He was exactly as tense as he needed to be. When twigs snapped, it was entirely reasonable to draw his bow. The danger wasn’t in his head; it was outside, on all sides, and his reactions were precisely the correct one.
No confusion. No delusion. Everything made sense. His mind and body were in perfect harmony.
“Gaul.” Jinyel spurred Ailuhn forward. Water, there, clear and clean. Sundown eventually. Camp?
Gaul Jundland wasn’t completely fluent in sign language, but hunters often had to move in silence and communicate with one another. He could understand at least half of what Jinyel meant.
“Running water? Point it out for me. Oh, there, I see ― good and clear.”
The jolly hunter glanced up, through the canopy and to a sun that was still two breaks away from dusk. Enough time to put some more distance behind them, but perhaps not enough to find another source of clean water if they abandoned this one.
“I see your point.” He gave Jinyel a toothy grin. “All of you, we’re changing course east. Along that stream there, let’s follow and pitch camp there once we find the headwaters.”
Everyone was efficient. Jinyel wasn’t accustomed to that. Once they found the spring’s source, Gaul Jundland’s camp took full shape in less than half a break. Everyone already knew exactly how much space they needed, and through quiet glances and the placement of equipment, they knew how much Jinyel needed, too. With such wet ground, the party opted for hammocks instead of flat bedrolls, with a simple waxed tarp strung overhead to keep off rain. Considering Scaltoth’s warmth, little was required in the way of bedding, although the heat brought its own miseries in the form of insect swarms. A pale yellow lotion was passed around camp, described as a bug repellant.
“You sure you don’t want any?” Gaul asked as he swung by Jinyel’s section of camp. “It’ll keep the biters off you like magic.”
No. Jinyel emphasised his answer with a shake of his head. “That glow, just north of us.” What is it?
“The glow?” Gaul frowned and looked into the distance. “Well, Scaltoth has all sorts of things that glow. Just north of us ― you mean that glow tree out there?”
Excitement! What? Why does it do that?
He shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine. Best not to go poking things in the jungle unless you absolutely have to.”
Agreement, absolutely. “How long of a ride there and back?” A break? Less?
Gaul raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “I just said it’s best not to go poking.”
Understood. However, I absolutely have to.
“Why?”
Because it’s a tree and it’s glowing. I cannot comprehend how you wouldn’t go poke it.
“You don’t know what it’s made of. It could explode. It could poof out a bunch of pollen and kill you.”
Yes. Yes. Yes.
“That’s a weird way to sign ‘no.’”
It’s a glowing tree.
“I brought you on this trip because you’re almost as good a hunter as you are a cook. I can afford to lose a good hunter, but I refuse to lose a good cook."
Simple, then. I’ll go look at it after dinner.
“I’d rather have you around for tomorrow’s dinner, too.”
No worry, I’ll cook tomorrow, too.
“Listen. You’ve never been in this jungle before.”
I know.
“You don’t know it like I do.”
Yet.
“Just stay in the camp.”
No.
Gaul ran a tired hand over his face. “Of course you’re a lunatic. Should have known from you wearing boulder snake skin like a petticoat. You couldn’t have told me you’re a lunatic before we got here?”
Oh, genuine apology. “I’m a lunatic. I have to understand everything, all the time, forever. That tree glows so I need to know why.”
“Saiore’s bloody turtle tits…” He shook his head. “And what about the plants that paralyze you? What about the sentient ones that know you’re coming? What about the bats that regrow limbs, the vines that drink blood? What about all the cannibals and disease beasts?”
Absolute shock… How do I find each of those things, in that order?
“Alright, so no stories for you.” The words seemed to genuinely surprise Gaul. “And Immortals know I love to tell a good story but we’re going to wait until we’re out of this damned place.”
Wait, no! Stories! Tell me. I’ll listen.
“And you’ll get yourself killed before we get to breakfast. Come on, Jon Little spotted one of those spicy meat banana trees, they’ll bring back―”
“Spicy meat banana trees?”
“Yes, bananas that taste like meat, will that keep you from running straight to a colossithecus den?”
“What’s a colossithecus?”
“A big interesting thing I’ll tell you about after we’ve hunted our game. I’m not the most sensible man myself, so far be it from me to judge that weird sparkle in your eye, but I brought you on to help kill one specific thing that wants to kill you, not poke at every deadly thing that crosses our path.”
Jinyel grimaced. Gaul let him huff and ponder as if they had all the time in the world.
I understand, Jinyel said with great reluctance. I came to hunt at your side, and so your place is my place until that oath is fulfilled.[/knowledge]
Until everyone else was asleep, at least. Gaul’s points were reasonable ― Jinyel was certain he would make the same ones himself, if their positions were reversed. To hunt in a team demanded reliance, and a great deal of trust to go with it. The two of them acknowledged each other's skill, but no amount of skill could make up for unpredictability. By all accounts, their quarry was as dangerous as anything else in this jungle: some sort of mutant hyena that had grown to the size of a man, with intelligence to evade Gaul more than once. Gaul and Jinyel needed to trust each other.
It would be better, then, if Jinyel didn’t tell anyone about his trip to the glow tree. Until he had an opportunity to sneak out, ‘spicy meat bananas’ were more than strange enough to hold his attention.