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 Posted: Fri Dec 21, 2007 7:15 pm
[12.23.07]
Lar and Tam were the perfect pair. A man and his dog – A hunter and his most deadly weapon. They were inseparable. Lar had raised Tam from newborn pup to the loyal hound he was now. Since the first time they met, Lar had never left Tam behind.
The two were homebodies, and so not often were they seen outside of the shrouded wood they inhabited. When they were, they seemed distant, as if they were anxious to return to their seclusion. Lar would only ever speak to the other hunters for a few minutes, and then they were gone, back to where they came from, like they had never been there. Wood ghosts, they were called. They laughed it off.
When Lar went hunting, he only ever took Tam, his bow and arrows, and his knife. No food, no water, no extra clothing, no protection from the wind or rain. He never needed them. He was at peace with the forest. When he wanted food, he ate what he caught or foraged. When he was thirsty, he dug up water from the ground or found a stream. The trees were his rooftop, the leaves were his blanket. Tam was just as pleased with the forest as he – no shortage of squirrels to harass or rabbits to gnaw on.
Oftentimes when Lar returned from his trips, he had nothing to show for it other than a smile, but that was just the way of the forest, he said, and seemed content with that. He had plenty of trophies from more successful hunts, but there was no reason for him to win all of the time. That would just upset the balance of the forest, he said. The other hunters just chuckled at him.
He had left on the verge of winter for his final hunting trip of the season. Bow strapped to his back, Tam at his side, knife in the cloth belt tied around his tunic. Not a care in the world. Enough meat in his fridge to last all of winter and even some of spring. He was here only to get in touch with the forest once more before his temporary winter retirement.
Larsonn.
He froze, one hand on his knife, the other on Tam. His eyes darted around, trying to find the source of the voice.
Larsonn.
Tam whimpered softly at his side – a sound Lar had never heard before. His hand shook as he drew his knife from his belt. The wind whistled through the leaves, tearing at his face, his hair, sending his baggy clothing whipping around him and slamming up against his skin like whips. Lar shut his eyes tightly, letting go of his knife. It clanged against the rock and ground and rolled harmlessly away. Tam leaned up against him, smacking his lips nervously as he stared straight ahead. When the wind stopped, Lar cracked one eye open, and felt all the breath leave his lungs. There before him stood the largest, most ancient-looking deer he had ever seen in his entire life. Twice the height of Lar, covered in ivy and moss, wrinkled from head to cloven hoof and blessed with such dignity and grace that Lar felt his heart burning in his chest.
“Larsonn McKee.” It spoke, without so much as a blink of its’ eyes or a twitch of its’ lips. Lar fell to his knees, staring up at it in awe.
“Thrice I have called to you now, son of the forest.” It continued, stepping forward, and Lar felt the ground shake. The great stag bent its’ head down, meeting Lar eye-to-eye. “Why do you fear me? Have you not struck down many of my kind before?”
“Y-yes…” That was all Lar could bring himself to say. He swallowed hard, not daring to blink. The stag gave a throaty chuckle.
“I came here to ask a favor of you, son of the forest. The Old Ones say it is my time to pass, but I do not wish to go out peacefully. I want to be remembered, not long-forgotten like my ancestors, who died in their sleep like ailing pets.”
Lar could hardly believe it. Was the stag… asking him to kill it? The stag seemed to sense his question.
“Yes. I want you to face me, to fight me. I want you to kill me. In return, I will grant you a gift.” The stag smiled a great wrinkled smile. “A son. A son of the forest, just like you. What do you say?”
In response, Lar slowly shook his head up and down. The stag was positively beaming. He stomped one hoof against the ground.
“Let us begin, then.” And with that, he charged.
Days later, Lar returned wearing a new deer-skin cloak, with the massive wrinkled head of the stag as his hood. And strapped to Tam’s back was a cabbage, wrapped in a swatch of the skin with deer-skin sinew to bind it.
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Posted: Wed Dec 26, 2007 12:44 pm
[12.26.07]
When they returned from their trip, Lar and Tam settled themselves down for the winter, and began to integrate the cabbage into their daily routine.
At dinnertime, Lar would fry up some meat for himself and Tam, putting Tam’s into a bowl, and his own between two slices of bread. He no longer put a leaf of lettuce on top, for fear that it might offend the cabbage, but he did slap a few tomato slices and some mayonnaise on the bread, and it filled him up just fine. The cabbage got its’ own little seat at the table, with a bowl (chilled from beneath with ice) to keep it steady.
Before bed, Lar would settle down in front of the fireplace, right on the rug with Tam, and curl up underneath a big thick fluffy blanket. Tam sat at his feet, staring into the fireplace with large unblinking eyes. And the cabbage, ever-present, would sit on Lar’s lap, behind the blanket to keep it from the heat of the fire.
When the sun set, Lar snuffed out the fire and climbed into his cot. Tam stretched out at the foot of the bed, which he had claimed as his own since they first moved in. The cabbage had been granted its’ own little bed, made by Lar out of unfurnished pine and some old blankets. It even had a little pillow stuffed with goose down. Lar made sure to tuck the blankets around it to keep from rolling out.
In the morning, Tam watched over the cabbage as Lar went outside to gather up firewood. As Lar started up the morning fire, Tam curled up around the cabbage and watched. Tam was a good father to the cabbage, just as good as Lar was. He even helped trim the dying leaves by tugging them off and tossing them into the fire. Lar got a bit cranky when Tam missed the fire and threw them onto the rug, though. Tam would just chuckle and flash him a grin.
Even in the afternoon, when Lar read his books, the cabbage was included. Lar tucked it in one arm and used the other to turn the pages. Lar had a lot of trouble reading, for he hadn’t stayed in school past the fourth grade, but he tried anyhow, and the cabbage helped him concentrate. It felt right to have something in his arms, something to take care of.
Christmas passed, uneventful as always. Tam received a deer-horn chew toy from Lar as a gift. Lar received a chewed-up bone from underneath the wood stove. They had a nice meal, went to bed early. Nothing fancy, nothing special.
But the next morning was much more exciting…
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Posted: Tue Jan 01, 2008 12:49 pm
[1.1.08 - Backdated entry (12.27.07)]
Lar cracked one eye open, then growled softly at the morning sun's rays.
"Don' wanna get up." He grumbled, throwing his blanket over his head. Tam rumbled in protest as well, shoving his head under the blanket and pressing his cold wet nose into Lar's foot.
"Oy! Watch it, Tam!" Lar yelped, pulling his foot away. Tam snickered softly. Then, a small cranking sound from the crib caught their attention. Tam was the first to rise, pulling his head away from the blanket and landing on the floor with a loud thunk!. He stepped over to the bed, then tilted his head at the cabbage inside.
Crrrrrrrkkk...
Yipe! Tam scrambled backwards, tail between his legs. His rump hit the side of Lar's cot, shaking Lar from his morning daze.
"Wha...?"
.......Cccccrrrrrrrkkk...........
Tam whimpered softly, scrambling back into bed and burrowing underneath the covers. Lar snorted, then rolled over and pushed himself out of bed. After a good stretch, he made his way over to the crib. He moved the blankets away from the cabbage, then blinked twice at it. Was that a crack...?
Ah! It was! A crack in his cabbage! Lar sighed, pressing the back of his hand to his forehead. What had he done wrong? Why was it breaking?
Crrrkkk...
Wait a minute... Was that... A hand? Yes! There was a hand coming out of the cabbage! Lar bent over the crib, pulling the broken cabbage apart with his hands. Inside was an infant, with one hand gripping the cabbage leaves, as if trying to make its' way out. Lar quickly scooped the baby up, dashing the leaves away from the crib with his free hand, then wrapped the baby in one of the crib's blankets.
“Tam! Tam, look!” Lar was grinning from ear to ear. He tugged Tam out from underneath the blankets, then held the baby towards him. Tam’s ears flicked up, and he slowly crawled towards the swaddled infant. After a quick sniff, Tam grinned a big happy dog grin and gave the baby’s hand a lick.
“The stag wasn’t joking! It’s a boy! A lil’ boy!” Lar laughed and twirled around, hugging the baby close. “A deer boy, Tam! A son of the forest!”
Tam barked out a laugh, spinning around Lar’s legs with his tail wagging fiercely.
“Ohhh… He needs a name, Tam! A name for my new son!” Lar cradled his new boy in one arm, and then, still grinning, ran off towards the den. He pulled a book of names from the bookshelves, flipped it open, and bent down to show Tam. “Pick one. G’wan!”
Tam pressed his nose against the book, covering a group of names with a giant wet noseprint.
“Rohit? Roho? What have you been drinking, Tam?” Lar asked, scanning the names. “Roja? That’s a girl’s name! Rojelio… No… Sounds like jello… OH! Roland!” He grinned, rubbing Tam’s ears. “Perfect! Roland it is! Roland… uh…”
Tam snorted, taking the book from Lar and dumping it on the floor. He scratched at a second name, closer to the front.
“Abram? I like it! Roland Abram McKee!” Another chuckle escaped him. He held little Roland up, beaming. “Roland Abram McKee… A strong name for a strong son!”
Roland blinked sleepily, then shoved his thumb into his mouth.
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Posted: Sat Jan 05, 2008 3:47 pm
[1.5.08 - Backdated entry (12.27.07)]
The three sat around Lar's little kitchen table - Lar on one side, Roland on the other (sitting on a few pieces of wood Lar had lying around, to boost himself up), and Tam in between the two. Lar was staring intently down at a book.
"It says here... Deer drink milk from their mothers, and then begin to eat leaves and grains... Mimicking what their mothers eat..." He glanced up at Roland, who still had his thumb shoved in his mouth. "....How do we know which to give him?"
Tam sniffed softly. He was used to his master speaking aloud.
"....Maybe both?" Lar looked over at Tam, and the hound nodded in approval. "I'unno if we've got any milk, so let's try greens first." With that, Lar shut the book and stepped outside, leaving Tam to watch the new baby.
Roland blinked, using his free hand to make grabbing motions towards Tam. Tam obliged by placing his head on Roland's lap. A little squeal escaped the deer boy, and he tugged his thumb out of his mouth and began rubbing Tam's head. Tam shut his eyes, tail thumping against the ground happily.
A few minutes later, Lar returned, grinning from ear to ear. In one hand was a small bunch of spinach – the other held two freshly-picked carrots.
”Deer like carrots, right? Maybe I could mush ‘em up for ‘im!” Lar said, beaming down at Tam. He quickly went about preparing the vegetables. First came a good wash and scrub, then the spinach was cut down into smaller pieces, and the carrots were sliced thin and mashed up in a bowl. He also took one of his old canteens and filled it with water, then sliced a small hole in the lid (with a smaller hole above it to relieve pressure). Then, scooping Roland up (to Tam’s dismay), Lar settled down at his chair and held out one of the pieces of spinach.
Roland, wide-eyed, took it from him. He held it up, sniffed it for a moment, and then stuck it in his mouth and sucked on it. Wrinkling his nose, he stuck out his tongue, with the little spinach piece still sitting on it. Lar chuckled, pulling it out of his mouth.
”Spinach is a no, then, at least for now…” He dug around in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out his Swiss army knife and flipped it open. After a few glances, he decided the tiny magnifying glass would work best, and promptly dug it into the mashed carrot gloop. He pulled up a small amount, then held the knife out towards Roland.
Roland sniffed at the carrots before taking the knife from Lar. He nearly dropped it, but after a few seconds, got a firm grip on it and stuck the magnifying glass in his mouth. Squinting, Roland sucked all the carrot off of it, then pulled it from his mouth with a satisfied POP! and handed it back to Lar.
”Aha! Success! The boy shall not go hungry!” Lar laughed heartily, rubbing Roland’s head with one large hand. Roland beamed, his little nose glowing brightly.
”Now let’s try this…” Lar held up the canteen to Roland’s mouth. Roland glanced at it, decided it was too heavy to lift, and tilted it down in Lar’s hands. The water began to dribble out. Roland panicked for a minute, pushing it back up, and when the water stopped he grew curious. He tilted it down very slowly, finally getting it to a point where the water was right at the edge of the hole, and then latched onto the lid, moving it down a bit more so that he could drink. Lar wanted to cheer. His son was eating and drinking, AND had some common sense! What a gift!
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Posted: Fri Mar 14, 2008 4:33 pm
[3.14.08 - Backdated entry (|1.2.08|)]
Lar was beginning to wax concerned. His son was a deer, sure enough, and he had plenty of fur to cover himself, but would that last? He had seen animal-people before, and they varied. Some had more than enough fur to suit them, and some needed clothes to stay decent in public. Which would Roland grow to be? Regardless of what his boy was to become, the new father felt that he ought to learn how to wear clothing.
Initial attempts to clothe Roland were… unsuccessful. The infant ruined all of Lar’s homemade clothing, including one of the modified pairs of bluejeans he had outfitted Roland with. (Rol was spitting up blue string for the rest of the afternoon.) He wriggled out of underwear, ground his hooves straight through socks, and nibbled the elbows right out of all the long-sleeved shirts and jackets. How the boy had managed to get his elbows to his mouth STILL stumped Lar. But he was determined to find something that would suit Roland.
So, early the next morning, Lar packed his old truck up, buckled Roland and Tam in, grabbed his wallet and some skins to sell, and they were off. They reached town in a little under an hour. Lar sold the skins for a decent price to some older hunters, then put Roland on his shoulders. After a bit of wandering, they came to a little clothing shop.
ding~
The tiny bell over the door rang as they stepped inside. Lar set Roland down on Tam’s back, and the three approached the front desk. The only one else inside the store was a young woman, thin and pale, who was working at a sewing machine in the corner. When she spotted the boys, she stopped, stood, and made her way over.
“C’n I help you folks?” She asked softly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. Lar shot her a quick, rare smile.
“Yeah… This here’s my boy Roland, an’ he’s dead set against wearing clothing. We need somethin’ to get him used to it. Preferably somethin’… chewproof.”
“Chewproof?” She looked confused.
“He’s got a mighty fine set o’teeth on him, miss.” Lar chuckled, rubbing Roland’s head. The woman placed a hand to her mouth, covering up a small laugh.
“We c’n find something to suit him, sir. Light and tough, that sounds like what he needs.” She turned, searching through a basket of scraps beside the desk. “Does he do well with denim?”
“Nah, he thought it was tasty.” That made her laugh. She pulled out a piece of thin leather, then held it up to Lar.
“How about this? We could make him a simple loincloth with it… Wrap it in a bit o’cloth to make it more comfortable for him…” She sounded unsure. Lar smiled, then nodded his approval.
“Worth a try. How quick can you have it done?”
“Well…” She looked around the empty store, then shrugged, looking sheepish. “I don’t ‘xactly have a heavy workload…. How’s an hour sound?”
“Like a dream.” He replied, amused. “Mind if we sit and wait?”
“That’d be best. I c’n get measurements and tailor it to him that way. But… Nothing much to do here, I’m afraid.” She responded, then took out some extra scrap cloth, turned, and went back to her sewing machine.
She was right. The wait was boring. Roland was wriggling and anxious by the time it was over, but the woman was true to her word. It was done in just under an hour. Roland stood still as she tied it onto him. It was a handsome piece, draping down to Roland’s knees, square at the bottom and getting wider towards the top. It was colored hunter green, with fancy gold stitching around the edges, keeping the cloth bound tightly around the leather. It was held together by two thick straps on the sides, one with a little buckle, the other permanently fastened to the cloth itself.
“There you go, little fella. G’wan, give it a walk.” She motioned with her hands, smiling sweetly at him. Roland bent over, tugging at the loincloth from all its’ edges, then teetered around the room, his thumb in his mouth. After a minute, he came to a halt, then stumbled back and fell onto his rump. He looked pleased. Lar laughed heartily, scooping him up and placing him on his lap.
“Well! Ain’t that a sight? First piece he ain’t chewed through!” Lar dug around for his wallet, then handed the woman some money, still laughing. “Here, miss, you’ve more than earned this. Thankee kindly.”
“Thank you, sir.” The woman beamed, then went to stick the money in her old worn-out cash register. “You need any more, you come see me, alright?”
“We’ll be back, fer sure.” Lar replied, placing Roland on his shoulders. “You have a nice day now, y’hear?”
“You too, sir.”
And within the hour, they were home.
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Posted: Sat May 24, 2008 9:28 pm
[5.24.08 - Backdated entry (|1.5.08|)]
There was something new in the air. Roland couldn't tell what it was, and that bothered him more than knowing it was there. It hung over the house, permeating everything. Roland spent the afternoon in thought, his thumb in his mouth and his nose in the air, slowly rocking back and forth on Lar’s lap. Every once in a while, he would let out a mewl that would cause Lar to look up and watch him for a minute with a worried crease in his brow. After seeing nothing was wrong, Lar would snort, gently pat Roland’s head, and continue reading. Tam seemed to sense it as well, and he and Roland shared glances as it grew stronger.
The smell, heavy and rancid, stayed for the entire evening. Several times, Roland attempted to alert Lar to its’ presence, but to no avail. It wasn’t until the next morning that Lar noticed something was wrong. He rolled from his bed, stretched, rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and took a deep breath. His eyes widened. He wheezed, then coughed and wrinkled his nose.
“Whaugh! Summat’s gone and died near the house…” He grumbled, throwing some clothes on and heading for the front door. Tam quietly climbed out of bed and sat next to Roland’s makeshift crib, snickering softly. Humans… When would they finally start developing better noses?
A few minutes later, Lar came inside with a grin on his face. “It was a possum! Ain’t never had a possum skin afore…”
Ew. Tam wrinkled his nose. Why would he WANT a possum skin?
Lar grabbed some tools from his den and headed back outside, leaving Tam shaking his furry head. Roland wriggled and sat up, looking over the side of his crib at Tam. After a little bit of whining and arm-waving, Roland managed to get Tam to help him out of his crib and onto Tam’s back. Tam padded into the kitchen and deposited Roland in his chair at the table just as Lar entered with the possum skin. Beaming, Lar took it to the sink and began cleaning it.
“If I c’n get more of these, I can make a nice blanket fer little Roland… Or a good belt! Or even a book cover…” He spoke aloud as he scrubbed the skin down. “I need a good storeroom for skins, doncha think, Tam?”
Tam didn’t answer. He was busy sniffing the air and wondering where the possum meat had been deposited.
“Mayhaps when Roland is older, he’ll help me build one.” Lar said hopefully, then held up the cleaned skin with a pleased look. “Fer now, this’un goes in the salt.” He sauntered over to the pantry and tugged the top off a barrel, which was full of fine-grain salt. He smooshed it down into the middle, then put the top back on and washed his hands. “Should be ready to tan in a few weeks.”
Tam rolled his eyes, then stood at the front door, staring back at Lar. Lar opened the door to let him out, shut it after him, and scooped Roland up from his chair. Roland rested his head on his father’s shoulder and took a deep breath. The rancid smell of death had been replaced by the smell of meat and salt… sort of like when Lar made ‘coon bacon for breakfast. Roland began to relax. He liked this new smell a lot better.
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Posted: Thu Nov 27, 2008 6:21 pm
[11.27.08 - Backdated entry (|2.5.08|)]
Tanning time! Lar was brimming with excitement. He had amassed quite a few skins, and thoughts of the fancy new things he would make with them were dancing around inside his head. After a hearty breakfast, Lar settled Roland into a little sling across his chest, and then began dragging salt barrels outside.
"This is something that I love to do..." Lar started, glancing down at Roland, "It's slow work, and repetitive. Lots of waiting... But I don't mind it. The things I can do with it afterward are wunnerful."
He grunted, then stepped back in side, taking two strange pots out from underneath his sink. One was large, and he visibly strained to carry it - the other was about half it's size and much lighter. He brought them outside, placing them both on the ground near the barrels. Next he brought out a bottle of something quite disgusting-smelling, along with a pouch of what looked like mulch. He filled up the pots about halfway with water and separated the pouch's contents between the two.
Next, from the first barrel he produced three skins, one from a deer and two from squirrels. He set them down on a flat rock nearby, and popped open the bottle. Roland reeled in his little sling, and covered his nose.
"Stinky, I know." Lar chuckled, patting Roland's head with his free hand. "Now, you won't remember much of this, i'm sure, but if you take anything away from this little adventure, let it be what i'm about t'tell you, little one. Leather ain't worth bunk until it's had all of the fatty tissue taken out of it. To do that, y'gotta use summat called 'tannin' to remove it." He held up the bottle, far enough away to minimize the smell.
"In the old days, folks used dung or a mixture of animal brains to get the job done, but nowadays they got the chemicals right out of it and bottled it up to make it nice and tidy, see? Still rank, but a lot less nasty to handle." He doused each skin with it liberally, then after a few minutes of letting it soak, he cleaned each one off underneath a spicket outside.
"There, that's done it." He held a skin up to Roland, bending it to show him how workable it was. Roland didn't seem impressed. The little deer boy was still trying to get the smell of the tannin out of his nose.
"Now it has to soak. Most folks soak skins for a few days, but they work just fine after a few hours too." Lar situated the skins in the pots, making sure every inch of them was exposed to the mixture inside.
After a few hours, Lar returned, pulling the skins out of the pots and spreading them back on the flat rock. He worked fast, taking a knife to each one and scraping them out as thin as he possibly could while they were still wet. Roland watched with interest as the leather grew before his eyes. Lar worked each one until he had strained every bit of water out of them, and when it was done, he took the skins inside and placed them on a rack near the fire to dry further.
"And that's how you make leather, m'boy." Lar said, smiling down at Roland. He pointed at the big deer skin. "See this'un? It's gonna be a nice chair for you once I get another one to match it. And these two little'uns are gonna make a pouch for you to carry things in when you get older."
Roland jammed his thumb in his mouth, staring up at Lar. Lar chuckled, rubbing his son's head.
"I 'spect you don't understand... You will one day, when you need new things and I teach you how to make 'em yourself. Mark my words, son, anything you make with your own hands will mean heaps more to you than anything you find in a store."
"Now," He continued, grinning, "I think we've earned ourselves a hearty dinner, don't you?"
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Posted: Sun Dec 07, 2008 10:34 am
[12.07.08 - Backdated entry (|3.10.08|)]
Roland was feeling frisky... And rather peckish. Mushed carrots and milk just weren't doing it for him any more. After a quick glance to make sure his father was asleep, the deer boy scrambled out of his crib and began crawling towards the kitchen. Luckily, the noise woke Tam, who dutifully followed his charge down the hall.
Roland wiggled his little tail at Tam, then turned a corner into the kitchen and headed for the pantry. With his ears perked, Tam continued following, and settled himself down beside the pantry door as Roland attempted to figure out how to open it. It took a lot of work, and he fell back onto his rump quite a few times in the process, but finally he managed to slide one door open just enough to get inside.
It was dark inside the pantry, but Roland's tiny glowing nose gave him enough light to navigate around the shelves without any incident. He sniffed at each object as he came to it, and wrinkled his little nose at the familiar smell of carrots. Then, he bumped into something leafy. Roland nibbled at one of the leaves, then squealed happily, and dragged it out into the kitchen.
Tam tilted his head. Lettuce? Why had Lar stuck lettuce in the pantry? The hound sighed, shaking his head. He gave the lettuce a quick sniff, then snorted in approval, wriggling his way into the pantry to explore for himself.
Roland cackled, shutting the door behind Tam and ignoring his protesting whimpers and yelps. He dragged his leafy prize over to the dinner table, leaning against one of the table legs and examining the lettuce with pride.
When Lar finally woke, it was to the sound of Tam's whimpering. He quickly threw on some pants and hurried towards the noise, then doubled over laughing at what he found. Roland was fast asleep, with little pieces of lettuce still stuck to his mouth, and Tam's nose was jammed up underneath one of the doors as he desperately attempted to escape from the pantry. After a good bit of laughing, Lar let Tam loose, and tucked Roland back into his crib.
"Well... Guess that means no more mushed carrots for a while." Lar said to himself, then chuckled at Tam, who was glaring at Roland's crib. "And you gotta shape up a bit, ol' boy, 'lest this youngin' gets the best of you again."
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