Ymiden 11, Arc 718
Ellen waded up out of the surf, soaked to the waist and awkwardly pulling a broken barrel behind her. She'd drug several up onto the sand, salvaging them from a part of the ship's wreckage that lay partially broken half-on and half-off the beach. So far they were all empty. The redhead rolled the next one onto its top and peered inside, through a hole roughly the size of her fist. Empty again, aside from some seawater. She cursed and shoved it over, watching it roll back to the water's grasp. Waves took hold of it, tossed it, and bounced it against the sand before repeating. Ellen sighed, shielded her eyes, and looked up at the sun. It wasn't in the middle of the sky yet. Still morning. She squinted back toward the trees where she'd offloaded her gear from her bottomless bag.
She needed to set up a more permanent camp. The previous trial had been... interesting to say the least, but now things were looking bleak again. If she didn't get her bearings it would only get worse. Ellen had three priorities at the moment. Fresh water. Food. Shelter. Her tent had been pitched at the treeline, but she would need to start gathering wood to reinforce it. If another storm like the one that sank the ship hit the island, her little shelter was a goner. The half-breed trudged back up the beach to her makeshift headquarters and dropped to her knees. Taking stock of what water she had left, it seemed to be enough for about half the trial. One waterskin was already empty, and the trials would only get hotter.
Food was less of a worry. She had a quiver full of arrows and her bow. Crabs roamed the beach and she heard all manner of beast yammering in the trees last night. Hunger was starting to set in though. She would need to set off soon and could search for water on the way. Ellen would scout the island and see what she could find.
A few bits later she was gliding above the treeline, riding a warm ocean breeze, coasting easily on the current. The half-breed scanned the canopy below, circling around gaps and watching for movement. There were a few flashes of what looked like some sort of small ape leaping through the branches but she quickly decided she wasn't hungry enough to eat a monkey. Yet. It just seemed strange--so she kept going.
The island itself wasn't particularly large. She was able to circumnavigate its outer edges in less than a break. During her flight she saw more apes, flashes of a kind of wild pig rooting around on the forest floor, and a few different types of bird so bright that her head was swimming from the colors. There seemed to be fruits readily available--some of them unknown and others more common, like the coconut, but the half-breed was loathe to eat them if she could avoid it. Her preferred diet had always been meat. She could tolerate fruits and vegetables up to a point, but it involved plugging her nose and scarfing it down as fast possible to avoid the taste.
Pork would do nicely, or perhaps some kind of sea creature. Ellen tucked her wings, dropped through the leaves of the canopy, and alighted on a thick twisted limb high above the forest floor. She perched in a crouch, bow in hand, quiver ready on her hip. She'd seen some more of the pigs nearby. There seemed to be a large population, and she hadn't seen any obvious predators yet. Perhaps she was the only one? It would make for easy picking. Animals that had no natural predators were complacent and unafraid. The redhead was half-tempted to see how close she could approach before they fled, if they ran at all, but it would be silly and reckless. In her situation, she had to quickly obtain the necessary resources and waste little time.
Ellen had found a large spring that fed into the ocean during her trip around the island, so water was no longer an issue. Both waterskins hung bloated and heavy across her chest. All that was left was to sate the rumble that was starting to become more persistent in her belly.
She remained patient on her perch, watching the brush rustle, hearing the distant snuffling of a hog coming closer. She'd cut it off, roughly predicting its path while scouting above. It was an older boar, not particularly large but gray around the face with a pair of ugly yellow tusks curling back onto its snout. He rooted carefully, taking his time. Ellen pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, poised on the limb, head cocked. From her squatting position high above, there was very little in the way to obstruct the line of sight. All he needed to do was move out of the bushes--and that just required her to wait.
It was slow, but after a few bits he finally fully emerged. Ellen licked her lips, re-adjusted her grip and pinched the string. Drawing back with a deep inhale, she aimed down toward the hog. Hold for a few beats--sight--exhale--release. The bow snapped taught and her arrow buried into the base of the boar's neck with a loud thump. He squealed loudly, jerked, then dropped after little more than a step. He was down.
She dropped to the ground immediately, letting her wings fill with air and flapping to ease to landing. It wasn't breathing when she knelt down beside it, and she laid a hand over his side to try and search for any sign of life, but there was nothing. Her arrow seemed to have severed its spine. A quick death. She murmured her thanks to the beast and smoothed down the bristly hairs on top its back. It would feed her for a few trials at least. She could relax now, even if just a little.
Later that evening she lounged by a small fire, full and tired. She watched the flames leap and dance, eating at the green fronds and soft wood she'd gathered. It was a smokey, paltry thing, but hot enough to cook her dinner. Any other time the smoke might have made her paranoid, but by now she'd decided there was no point in worrying about someone setting on her in the middle of the night. The half-breed rolled onto her side, resting her head on the heel of her hand and poked the coals with a long thin piece of driftwood, churning the fuel a bit.
Ellen would have to start making a plan soon. She couldn't just stay on this island. A signal fire could help, and she would need to see if there were any other landmasses close enough to fly to. But all of that would have to wait until the next trial. For now, she was tired. Her eyelids were heavy, and she felt sated. She curled up in the sand under the open sky, folding her arms under her head and drawing her legs in close to her chest. The sleep that night was restful except for a faint but persistent voice whispering from the formless darkness.
Ellen waded up out of the surf, soaked to the waist and awkwardly pulling a broken barrel behind her. She'd drug several up onto the sand, salvaging them from a part of the ship's wreckage that lay partially broken half-on and half-off the beach. So far they were all empty. The redhead rolled the next one onto its top and peered inside, through a hole roughly the size of her fist. Empty again, aside from some seawater. She cursed and shoved it over, watching it roll back to the water's grasp. Waves took hold of it, tossed it, and bounced it against the sand before repeating. Ellen sighed, shielded her eyes, and looked up at the sun. It wasn't in the middle of the sky yet. Still morning. She squinted back toward the trees where she'd offloaded her gear from her bottomless bag.
She needed to set up a more permanent camp. The previous trial had been... interesting to say the least, but now things were looking bleak again. If she didn't get her bearings it would only get worse. Ellen had three priorities at the moment. Fresh water. Food. Shelter. Her tent had been pitched at the treeline, but she would need to start gathering wood to reinforce it. If another storm like the one that sank the ship hit the island, her little shelter was a goner. The half-breed trudged back up the beach to her makeshift headquarters and dropped to her knees. Taking stock of what water she had left, it seemed to be enough for about half the trial. One waterskin was already empty, and the trials would only get hotter.
Food was less of a worry. She had a quiver full of arrows and her bow. Crabs roamed the beach and she heard all manner of beast yammering in the trees last night. Hunger was starting to set in though. She would need to set off soon and could search for water on the way. Ellen would scout the island and see what she could find.
A few bits later she was gliding above the treeline, riding a warm ocean breeze, coasting easily on the current. The half-breed scanned the canopy below, circling around gaps and watching for movement. There were a few flashes of what looked like some sort of small ape leaping through the branches but she quickly decided she wasn't hungry enough to eat a monkey. Yet. It just seemed strange--so she kept going.
The island itself wasn't particularly large. She was able to circumnavigate its outer edges in less than a break. During her flight she saw more apes, flashes of a kind of wild pig rooting around on the forest floor, and a few different types of bird so bright that her head was swimming from the colors. There seemed to be fruits readily available--some of them unknown and others more common, like the coconut, but the half-breed was loathe to eat them if she could avoid it. Her preferred diet had always been meat. She could tolerate fruits and vegetables up to a point, but it involved plugging her nose and scarfing it down as fast possible to avoid the taste.
Pork would do nicely, or perhaps some kind of sea creature. Ellen tucked her wings, dropped through the leaves of the canopy, and alighted on a thick twisted limb high above the forest floor. She perched in a crouch, bow in hand, quiver ready on her hip. She'd seen some more of the pigs nearby. There seemed to be a large population, and she hadn't seen any obvious predators yet. Perhaps she was the only one? It would make for easy picking. Animals that had no natural predators were complacent and unafraid. The redhead was half-tempted to see how close she could approach before they fled, if they ran at all, but it would be silly and reckless. In her situation, she had to quickly obtain the necessary resources and waste little time.
Ellen had found a large spring that fed into the ocean during her trip around the island, so water was no longer an issue. Both waterskins hung bloated and heavy across her chest. All that was left was to sate the rumble that was starting to become more persistent in her belly.
She remained patient on her perch, watching the brush rustle, hearing the distant snuffling of a hog coming closer. She'd cut it off, roughly predicting its path while scouting above. It was an older boar, not particularly large but gray around the face with a pair of ugly yellow tusks curling back onto its snout. He rooted carefully, taking his time. Ellen pulled an arrow from her quiver and nocked it, poised on the limb, head cocked. From her squatting position high above, there was very little in the way to obstruct the line of sight. All he needed to do was move out of the bushes--and that just required her to wait.
It was slow, but after a few bits he finally fully emerged. Ellen licked her lips, re-adjusted her grip and pinched the string. Drawing back with a deep inhale, she aimed down toward the hog. Hold for a few beats--sight--exhale--release. The bow snapped taught and her arrow buried into the base of the boar's neck with a loud thump. He squealed loudly, jerked, then dropped after little more than a step. He was down.
She dropped to the ground immediately, letting her wings fill with air and flapping to ease to landing. It wasn't breathing when she knelt down beside it, and she laid a hand over his side to try and search for any sign of life, but there was nothing. Her arrow seemed to have severed its spine. A quick death. She murmured her thanks to the beast and smoothed down the bristly hairs on top its back. It would feed her for a few trials at least. She could relax now, even if just a little.
Later that evening she lounged by a small fire, full and tired. She watched the flames leap and dance, eating at the green fronds and soft wood she'd gathered. It was a smokey, paltry thing, but hot enough to cook her dinner. Any other time the smoke might have made her paranoid, but by now she'd decided there was no point in worrying about someone setting on her in the middle of the night. The half-breed rolled onto her side, resting her head on the heel of her hand and poked the coals with a long thin piece of driftwood, churning the fuel a bit.
Ellen would have to start making a plan soon. She couldn't just stay on this island. A signal fire could help, and she would need to see if there were any other landmasses close enough to fly to. But all of that would have to wait until the next trial. For now, she was tired. Her eyelids were heavy, and she felt sated. She curled up in the sand under the open sky, folding her arms under her head and drawing her legs in close to her chest. The sleep that night was restful except for a faint but persistent voice whispering from the formless darkness.
