I intended to catch up last night, but was unable to as I fell asleep looking at the idiot box. Now, in fairness to me, I did not get home last night until 9:15 pm, and was working on three hours of sleep.
So, I got up at 4:30, and typed up 1,347 words.
Here is an excerpt from yesterday:
“When”, he asked, “do we return to the village?”And here is an excerpt from this morning! A two-fer! Aren't we all so lucky?!
“Nicely phrased. Why do you ask that question?”
“Because, that is what I really want to know. It seems we are walking in the wrong direction. This could be on purpose, or perhaps you are lost, Master. Or perhaps, the trial is not over. It occurred to me that while there were many possible questions, what I really wanted to know was when do we get back to the village. So, I avoided all questions that did not seem to lead directly to the answer I wanted.”
“And so, do you think you are now clever?”
“No. I think I am now wondering when we will return to the village. The trial, as I understand such things, is over. In my memory, the next phase is the return to the village. But, some things are already different in my experience than what I had been taught. I am already apprenticed. Things are different. I feel it best to not make assumptions, but rather to hunt information.”
“Hunt?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We return to the village when we are through.”
Sylk started to ask when that would be, then just didn’t. He really did not know why he stopped, except he began to sense he was not going to be told. Or, perhaps, he had been told the only answer that made sense in the current context. Things were becoming interesting.
They walked on, and Sylk began to suspect something. He scanned the horizon. Yes! There it was, still a good two hours walk. Flat Rock. They were going to Flat Rock! He was almost giddy, as he realized his apprenticeship was going to begin in earnest, while he was still in trial.
Moa’qi sensed his apprentice’ excitement. Again, he could feel it in his soles. ‘Good’, he thought. ‘He knows where we go. He will learn things to shake his core on flat rock.’ Moa’qi smiled again. It dawned on him that he had smiled more today than in the past several months since assimilating his knew knowledge. This apprenticeship was good. It was grounding him again. Some of the hollowness was being filled by positive action. They would go to Flat Rock.
Along the way they encountered a nearly dry stream bed and changed course to follow it. The bed seemed to flow from Flat Rock. Sylk was perplexed. He had heard of streams of course. They were kind of lore. Mention was made of them as possible sources for water when the usual sources dried up. But a stream meant some kind of water source, and he could not comprehend a water source. All water came from the daily morning dews. The shift from the wet season to the dry season was marked by the change in amounts of dew precipitation. This affected tribal duties some, because more of the dew basins had to be placed, and this involved more work from the tribe each morning of the dry season. And of course, there were the sources he had used during his trial. The plants that acted as natural dew basins could keep one man alive. As could the drippings from the dangerous but slow Bruta that roamed the plains. Their waxy hair caused water to simply drain off them each morning. And, then of course there was their own clothing, made from their domesticated herd animals. This had to be squeezed out in the morning, but required filtering to be potable.
He gave a long slow whistle of amazement, forgetting for the moment that Sylk was following. Misunderstanding, Sylk whistled back. Moa’qi smiled, and they fell into one of the ground eating, energy conserving whistle marches used on long hunts. Perhaps coincidentally, it was the Bountiful Return March. It seemed strangely appropriate to Moa’qi. He couldn’t quite explain his feeling. So, he just enjoyed it.
Moa’qi began to weave the Flora/Fauna game into the March. Spying some plant, he would whistle the identifier along with directional information. Sylk missed the first two times, failing to give the acknowledgment whistle. The third time, Moa’qi stopped walking, and repeated the whistle while looking directly at Sylk. He then turned and continued the march. To his credit, Sylk needed no further prompting. In fact, he greatly surprised Moa’qi by setting reference patterns that effectively went back to the first two plants, giving rough distance and direction approximations. Impressed, Moa’qi began to add in the more complex animal rhythms. These required not only a three dimensional marker, but a fourth as well, if they were on the move. Sylk kept up, slowly at first, then with increasing fluidity. They had identified three types of birds, their direction and number, and 18 varieties of plant life. Suddenly, they were at the base of Flat Rock.
Sylk was brought up short. He had lost sense of time, and had been so focused on the Flora/Fauna game, and the intricacies of weaving it into the Bountiful Return March, that he had again lost sense of time. He stood breathing deeply and feeling the pleasant pounding in his chest. The walk and whistle were effective aerobic exercise, and he felt relaxed and energized despite the distance traveled.
“We refresh ourselves for the climb,” said Moa’qi as he laid out simple travel fare.
Sylk looked at the now dry streambed. He had been aware almost subconsciously that the bed had grown in width and depth. But, he could not understand the water sign in the earth here at the base of Flat Rock. The ground had been chewed up and pushed aside. It was very deep towards the middle of an area that looked like it had been deliberately pushed aside and rounded. In his 30 seasons, he had not seen anything like this, and could not explain it.
“What is this?” he asked his Master.
“Eat.”
Sylk looked at his Master. Moa’qi’s tone was clear. Eat. He would be answering no questions. He was not usually like this, and it unsettled Sylk. So, he ate.
They finished their silent meal, and packed thing up. Then Moa’qi had Sylk re-pack, leaving non-essentials behind. He explained they were lightening their load for the climb. “What climb?” Sylk asked.
“We climb to the top of Flat Rock.” This was met with a moment of silence.
“To the top?”
“Yes.”
“What”, Sylk asked, “is up there?”
“The top.”
Toodles! fb
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