Welcome to Gaia! ::

Fishing was deceptively simple – a mere interplay of wooden rod, string, hook, and bait, dangled in the water. And yet...

“Aha!” Laesara gave a little unrestrained, startled cry of surprise as her fishing rod bent, scrambling to her bandaged feet. “Mal! Mal! I think I've caught one!” she exclaimed, tugging back on the rod and feeling the struggling resistance.

Mal stood up from his spot by the river, leaving his own rod to dangle in the water as he went over to investigate. “You sure have.” he said, grinning as he peered down at the rippling, shining water, “Now set the hook... Pull up once, really sharply...” Laesara did so, her heart beginning to pound like a drum as she felt the struggles intensify. “Good girl.” She held the rod tightly, fighting against the fish's desire to escape.

Laesara dragged the struggling fish towards the shore, reaching out to grab the line once she was able to reach it. She pulled at the rope, tightening it more and more until she could see the scaly side of the fish smoothly breach the water and slide back beneath the shimmering murk. “Wow!” exclaimed Mal, whistling through his teeth, “Looks like a big one, kiddo! Nice job!” he watched as she struggled to hold the string against the the fish. “Need any help landing the thing?”

“No.” she said, “I can land it just fine.”

Mal laughed, “Well, if you need any, I'm right here.” he said, leaning back on his heels to watch as she continued to pull the fish in. She could see it, not far beneath the surface of the water. It's eyes were wide and blank, expressionless and dull. She staggered as it renewed its struggles against the tightened line, and Mal grabbed the edge of the little girl's loose, too-big shirt. “No falling in on my watch!”

Laesara barely noticed the ex-mercenary's grip: All her focus was on the fish, and the rod, and the string. She fought the creature's, finally yanking the fish out of the water with a cry of victory. She hauled its heavy, still fighting mass into her hands. It was surprisingly heavy and she held it's silver-scaled bulk up to Mal proudly. “I've caught it!” she said, grinning, “I've caught it, Mal!”

“So you did!” he said, beaming at her with a father's pride, though he could, and would, never claim to be her father: that honor was reserved for some pasty-faced noble. Mal looked over the fish: it was a large beast, with thick, defined scales glistening over its fleshy body. It's fat lips gasped at the air, it's struggles weakening as it slowly accepted its fate. He could see the makeshift hook lodged neatly in it's mouth – a good catch. “Congratulations Lae.” he said, giving her a proud slap on the back, “There's your first fish. I think this could be dinner!” He smirked at her surprised look, “Well, you went through all the trouble to catch it, we might as well eat it, right?”

“I suppose so...” Lae said, feeling a sense of reluctance as she looked at her catch, gasping and very much alive in her arms. To cook it and eat it, she knew, it would have to die. She would have to end it's life, when only moments before it had been minding its own business. It didn't seem fair. Still, she had to eat, and with a decisive gesture, she laid the fish in his arms. “Very well,” she said imperiously, “You will teach me how to cook it, then.”

He laughed, putting the fish in the basket: the beast very nearly did not fit, and its tail spilled out over the edge until he firmly arranged it otherwise. “I'll teach you more than that, kid. Today, you're going to learn how to clean a fish, too. It's very important, you know.”

“Clean?” she squinted at him, Thoughts of washing the fish, as one did with fruit, came to mind, but that seemed ridiculous to the girl: The fish had come from the water and, maybe it was a little slimy, but did that require washing? Would washing even work on slime that held in the water? “Isn't it already clean?” she asked. Mal had always done the fishing and brought back a finished and ready-to-cook product to her and her mother. Today, though, he had insisted that she come with him so that he could teach her to fish, hunt, and prepare her game.

Mother was very reluctant to let me go with him... she thought, staring at the fish with some misgiving, I wonder why...

“Well...” he went over to his own fishing rod, “Sure, maybe, but you have to get the scales off and the guts out – can't eat that stuff very well, not unless you're really hungry. It's the meat around its backbone, the stuff that makes it move, that you want.” he gave the fishing rod an experimental tug, then pulled it up to check the hook – clean. Something had taken the bait while he'd been helping his girl. He took the rod and began wrapping the string around it. “Lets go back and get that done now.”

~~~

Back was not to the woodland cabin they called home. It was, instead, an old building, abandoned and empty in a silent village. Laesara had asked why the village was abandoned, curious for she had seen few other people besides her mother and Mal in her life. Mal had said something about rock beasts called 'Mara', but Laesara hadn't understood.

How could beasts of rock exist? sure, there had been the remains – or, rather – rubble piles in the town, where some of the pieces were clearly hands or faces, but didn't statues have those too? It is likely another metaphor. Metaphors were tricky that way and Mal used them sometimes, though not often. She would grill him on it later.

In the meantime, it was their hunting camp, where her accompanied trek outside the grove she had been in all her life had taken her.

Mal showed her the set of fish he had caught from days before, already cleaned, a neat slit down their bellies. She hadn't been there when he had cleaned them – she'd been exploring – and she was glad she hadn't as sawed his way into her fish, starting just behind the gills. Finally, he finished cutting it open, and she hoped it was very dead and no longer able to feel his knife.

“And now.” he said, picking up the fish by the tail, “you flick it out like so...” he flicked it towards a large tree in the yard of the house – their base for this adventure. The greasy innards of the fish flew out as if escaping, landing with a wet 'plop' near the tree. “And then you scale it – get all those hard bits off...” he ran the knife along the skin roughly, the scales falling to the ground like snow.

“And now, you get the meat off of it...” he cut into the fish and then, in a move that startled the girl, turned his knife sideways and began to cut along the fish, first one side and then, with an experienced flip, the other, putting the pieces of newly released flesh to the side. He held up the bones to show her. “And this, is a fish frame. Those are filets.” he picked up the meat and the bones and started back inside. “Now, lets show you how to make a soup.”

“A soup?” She followed him, looking back warily at where the wet guts had hit the ground, feeling sick.

“Sure. To keep us for a while while we hunt. It's always nice to have something warm in your body. We'll have this soup, and we'll smoke the other fish before we bring it back. Thats how we prepare for the winter, Lae.”

Oh.

Lae understood, though she hadn't realized that such a process was involved in the iridescent and strong-smelling hard strips of meat that were stored in their dry shed during the cold months. It was fascinating, and a lot more effort than her usual job, which was picking herbs, tubers, and canning berries and honey for sweet treats over the winter. She watched as he chopped the bones into chunks and put it in a large pot of water, head and all, with some onions and carrots and potatoes and herbs. “We'll put the meat in later, when we have stock.” he said, covering the meat with a clean cloth, “By the way, we're going fishing again tomorrow, and you're doing it on your own then, so enjoy watching while you can, kid.”

“I... Me?”

“Sure, you. What?” he grinned, “You thought I'd do all the work? Nah. I'm teaching you so that you can do it.” he wiped his hands, “Don't worry, kid, you'll be good at it.” he made a shooing motion, “Now go out and play. This will take a while, and I'll clean up so we can have a proper meal. I'll call you when its done. That's another thing you'll be doing, by the way. Cleaning.” his eyes glittered with merriment as he waited for her reply.

Laesara gave him a look. “I clean.” she insisted, “Mama has be clean all the time.”

“Not all the time.” he teased, “What of your bedroll, mmm? Never made, if I've noticed correctly.”

“It doesn't need to be done.” she protested.

“Sure.” he snickered, “Anyway, go out and play.”

So she did, all the while fuming at his taunts.

~~~

Laesara walked to the big tree in the back of the house, skirting the goopy remains of what had been the fish's insides, and leaned against the tree's trunk, trying to banish the nausea for good. She swallowed, hugging herself tightly.

The fish had been alive when it had been cut open, the girl knew, and she had seen it breathing or whatever fish did for the few seconds between when it had been cut open and when Mal had started cutting it up. It had been alive, right up until the moment Mal had put its bones in the pot. Was that right? Was that good? Lae didn't know, but she didn't like it.

She found her gaze drawn to the pile of fish entrails, in their myriad of greasy colors, though she had been trying to avoid it. She understood why they'd had to be removed, obviously: they looked about as appetizing as the mold she had seen growing on the walls of the barn. But had it needed to be so brutal? Couldn't he have waited until the fish was dead before ripping it open like he had?

Well!

She closed her eyes, blocking the view of the lonely innards. She was going to do something other than think about not-quite-dead fish. But what to do?

She opened her eyes and looked the tree over. It was a big tree, with nice strong branches. She could climb that tree – that was what one did with trees, after all.

Yes. I'd like that.

She hopped onto the trunk, climbing hand over hand as best she could without the certain handholds of the trees back at her home – this tree's bark was smooth. It was difficult, and by the time she managed to pull herself onto a low branch, it felt like a victory. She looked up, wondering if she should try for the next branch. Just above it were tantalizing little fruits, red and hard-looking. She was, she realized, hungry and she wondered what those fruits would taste like.

Curiously, she stood, her wings fanning out to help her balance, and began to pull herself onto the next branch, straddling it as she plucked off one of the fruits and rolled it in her hand, sniffing it. It smelled like an apple, and looked like an apple, but it was far smaller than the apples she knew. She bit into it, feeling very rebellious, and discovered that it tasted like apple too.

So, it was a tree with small apples. It was also a big tree.

Which makes it a... Big-Small apple tree? she chuckled at the wordplay and reached up for another tiny apple.

The gleam of animal eyes stopped her. Above her, in the branches, something was watching her. She drew her hand back warily and became, suddenly, aware of more eyes watching her, glowing malevolently in the half light under the leaves.

Lae wondered if maybe climbing the tree had been such a good idea after all.

The creature chittered at her, and she could see it's tawny-furred head, shadowed by the leaves, and the whites of it's bare teeth. The other forms answered it, and she was surrounded by threatening sounds, as if the leaves themselves wished her off.

Fine. But first she would have another apple. Quickly, she reached out again and snatched the apple from the tree, intending to get down. But when she looked, she realized she was very high. She froze at the realization, her heart pounding. She didn't like how high she was, and she didn't want to fall.

Suddenly, like a storm, the chittering increased and, with a shriek, one of the creatures leapt at her, clawing at her. The rest followed, their sharp little claws tearing into her skin. She protected her face with her hands.

“Mal!” she shouted, “Help!” She began to lose her balance on the branch as the creatures swarmed around her, clawing at her face and arms and hands and any flesh they could reach, shrieking hatefully.

“Lae!” she heard his shout just as she began to fall, “You'r wings, girl! Use your wings!”

If she spread her wings then they would be attacked by the little monsters. She felt herself about to tumble from the branch and scrambled for the branch with the arm that wasn't fending the mean creatures away from her eyes. She yelled, kicking at the beasts as they swarmed around her.

“I've got you! Let go!”

One of the beasts bit her knuckle and, in a spasm of pain and compliance, she let go of the branch, instinct spreading her wings as the hoarde of small tawny creatures separated from her.

Mal's familiar arms broke her fall. “Lae, are you all right?” he asked. Laesara had no idea. She pointed, wordlessly, up at the mob of creatures, who stared at her from the lower branches. With a war shriek, they dove towards them. Mal swung a spoon at them, backing away, before finally making a run for the house. They stopped following after only a few meters, but Lae was relieved when Mal closed the door behind them.

“Well.” he said, shaking his head, “I tell you to go play, and you get mobbed by Faekarats...” he chuckled, amused. “What a life. Lets go take care of those scratches.”

(2525/2400)