Private Tales Friends In Adversity

[Maranae]

Something walked ahead of her, something she had never scented before.

It had been literal weeks since leaving the Bad Place, the place where others had hurt her and done harsh things to her. The chanted words that had been a part if her daily life for three years, since she opened her eyes and saw for the first time. Memories before her awakening were vague at best, a smear of color completely out if context, out of her frame of reference.

It was not a thing that Maranae thought of, not something that bothered her. Her world was a simple place, filled with sights and sounds and smells and colors, each more vivid and vibrant than the last. The world had been pared down to the need for food and water, and an insatiable desire to learn, to see everything. To smell it, touch it. For three years,there had only been cages and cells, only been Bad People and their Bad Words, words that hurt her. She had no words for what that place was, beyond what the ones who wore the robes and carried papers called it.

Research facility. She did not know what it meant, of course; they had taught her a lot of words, but not all. They had taught her many things, and she had readily learned all they had shown her, if sometimes with difficulty. They had beaten her if she did not learn quickly enough. Ultimately, in the end, they had beaten her ferociously with their sharp metal sticks, spilling the red water - blood - from her flesh.

Conscious mind shied away from that. Maranae was afraid of the thing that lurked in her mind, they thing that came out when she was very hungry, and had come out only once in that research place. The memories were blessedly blurred from that time, but the haunting shadows left in her mind were enough to shy back from.

Summer heat gripped the world, the trees seeming to wilt beneath the oppressive glare of the sun. In the east, The Spine rose to challenge the heavens themselves, a blue-tinged wall of stone twenty thousand feet and more tall, peaks graced with hazy snow even in the depths of summer.

The valley she traveled was between ridges of stone, deciduous trees mixed with pines at this elevation. To her right, a mountain river ran clear and cold, its chill water a welcome refreshment when she was thirsty. The path she followed was well worn, even if it did not quite qualify as a road; in these wild places it was uncommon to find people beyond bandits and scofflaws dodging authorities. And, perhaps, the occasional monster hunter or two.

The hear did not seem to bother the young woman. Tall and willowy of build, with flowing red hair that was a bit worse for wear, she was a rare beauty. In fact, she had the appearance of something a man would make, glorious curves and sensible proportions in the bosom and hips. That she had in fact been made would not be surprising. She wore ragged trousers and a shirt that had likewise seen better days. Both would likely not remain intact much longer without being replaced, but she would likely not even notice their absence. Modesty was not a concern to her, at least.

The scent was so interesting to her. She stopped every hundred yards or so to taste the air, gently sniffing the air to catch a whiff of what she followed. There was no concern that whatever it was might be hostile; once, already, she had followed a trail to a bear with her Cubs. After one mighty blow that had sent her sprawling, blood flying, she had run rather than fight the enraged she-bear. She disliked pain, but there were just too many new things to see in the world, and she was not likely to be deterred from her curiosity by anything short of a mob complete with pitchforks and torches.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

Fortunately for the redhead, it was not pitchforks, torches, or a mob waiting ahead of her. In fact, it was very much the antithesis of all of those things…

Upon peeking through the shrubbery and vegetation, she’d find that the source of the scent had set up a small camp, complete with a merrily burning fire and a bedroll laid out to one side. The occupant had drug a large log over to the fire, just far enough away that she could sit and enjoy the fire without getting close enough to potentially burn herself. The night was looking to be a chilly one, and the Komodo didn’t exactly look forward to enduring that without the benefit of a source of heat. It shouldn’t get cold enough to get dangerous for her, but she found it easier to bank on providing more warmth than she needed than risking not having enough.

Because it was a tall Komodo who the red-haired young woman would find moving about the clearing. She stood easily hands taller than most men, solidly built, with white scales covering her entire body, glinting slightly in the sunlight. Her long white hair was pulled back in multiple braids, framed between the two sets of sweeping horns that curved back and up from her head, giving her another several inches of intimidating height. She wore a set of light leathers that did little to hide the sheer solid musculature that was her, the only decoration on her besides a pale pink flower tucked behind one horn a loop of shiny stones around the base of her tail

To one side of the log were her things, a carrying pack with necessary gear, and a large crystalline hammer the size of two men’s heads, glinting in the sunlight.

She was in the middle of making something -- food, it looked like, carefully pulling from the flames two plucked and cooked bird carcasses on a stick. Standing, she snapped the branch in half, leaving one carcass on each bit, before turning and looking towards the woods, holding one carcass up.

“Oi, then! Come eat! You’ve likely worked up quite the appetite! I would hate for you to be starving during your stalking!” she called, crimson eyes roving over the forest curiously, waiting for a response from her unexpected companion.

 

[Maranae]

Peeking and skulking were very definitely not things that Maranae did, or at least not consciously. The scent of something strange was a lure that was impossible to resist, and it drew her on like a flame would a moth. She was not recklessly noisy in her movements, but it was clear whatever it was she was following was aware of her presence.

She hesitated for only the briefest of moments before stepping into the open space, body leaning forward and head raised, sniffing at the air as she took in the sight before her. She had never seen one such as Calla before. Her eyes lit up at the friendly demeanor, practically sparkling in the firelight. She eyed the flames with a touch of distrust, but only for a moment before focusing on Calla again.

"You are so big!" Her face split into a smile, prominent canines gleaming in the light. "Big lady with horns!"

She stepped forward tentatively, eyes darting to the flames that the Komodo was basking in. Fire made her distinctly nervous, and whenever she saw open flames it recalled unto her memories, or at least fragments of memories. None of them were particularly pleasant.

"Mara can have some," she queried, still smiling, stepping forward one step at a time as if she were waiting for that one moment when she would have to flee. "Mara can have! She is hungry," she added, remaining poised to run - either towards food or away from the pretty horn-lady. Either way, her eyes were bright and filled with the child-like joy of discovery.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

The Komodo held still, stick and cooked birds in hand, until the one who’d been following her made herself known. A human, like the Komodo’s keen sense of smell had picked up, though it’d taken her a while since the girl didn’t entirely smell like the Komodo was used to her kind smelling. She smelled much more wild, much more like the ground and sky and the other creatures that lived and the forest.

Not to mention how she looked…

The white-haired creature smiled warmly at the girl who appeared, holding one hand bearing a cooked bird on it. She didn’t make any moves closer to the redhead, just patiently waiting for her to find it safe enough to approach. She did, however, smile, tight and non-teeth-revealing, so as to reassure the young woman.

“Of course! I made it for you, little one. Come, sit by the fire and warm yourself. It is a small, gentle fire and will not hurt you, I promise, but it will be good for your comfort and to make us tea.”

As soon as the girl was close enough, the tall woman would hand her the food and gesture for her sit, still keeping just far enough from her that she wouldn’t spook the young woman. Calla was very aware of just how very tall Calla was and how imposing that was to little ones such as the child-like woman in front of her, and she had no desire to cause her any distress when she was trying to offer her aid in whatever way she needed. The white-scaled woman took in her lack of clothing and lack of footwear and supplies and…

Smiled. Gently. “Hello, little Mara. I am Calla. Calla of Nuastone. I am a friend, and I promise no harm will come to you while you are near me. Are you injured?”

 

[Maranae]

Her smile only ever faltered when she looked at the ifre, but for Calla she had only that bright, open smile. As she got closer, it was hard not to notice her teeth. They did not look normal, especially her incisors which resembled fangs more than normal human teeth. It was probably nothing.

Up closer, it was easy to see the stains on her clothes, ragged as they were. Something dark, hastily and inexpertly washed out, marked practically every inch of fabric in overlapping stains. Gashes in the cloth exposed smooth, pale skin, and the gashes in her clothes looked far too even to be natural. As if some kind of blade had been used to cut into them.

But the young lady did not carry any weapons. She had no belt knife, no sword, not even a staff or a stick. Her finger nails did not look quite right, either.

"Mara does not like fire," she said earnestly, casting a mistrustful glare at the dancing flames. The only thing the bright, hot thing had ever done for her was cause her pain, nad never under her control. Unaware of it, she was baring her teeth at the flames as if she were some feral animal trying to warm the flames away, as if that would work.

Which she quickly forgot, smile returning as she looked back to the older woman. If she was bothered by Calla's size, it did not show. In truth, Maranae was not intimidated by very much, either by bravery or - more likely - naivety. However she looked, she was not defenseless.

"Hurt?" she asked, a blend of curiosity and confusion in her voice. It was the meat that had her attention right now, and her eyes tracked it in Calla's hand like a predatory bird might watch a delectable mouse from its perch. "Mara does not understand." A pause. "What is a friend?"

She had come within range of the offered meat and she leaned forward, sniffing at it almost comically before snatching it from Calla. "Big-horns Calla gives Mara this?" She didn't wait for confirmation, though. Although the meat smelled funny to her, she nevertheless took a big bite, careless of where. Bones crunched under that bite, crushed as though of neither any consequence nor any concern to the girl.

Something was though. The look on her face was comical as she spit the mouthful out and looked at the carcass in her hands as if she had never seen such a thing before. "Food tastes funny," she exclaimed, considering dropping it for a moment. "Where is the red water?" Without context it was likely to be an interesting time for Calla trying to figure that out; the woman had eaten nearly every meal in the life she could remember raw, and in some cases still alive.

 

[Calla of Nuastone]

The Komodo glanced towards the fire as the young human addressed it, then turned her crimson eyes back to her with a reassuring smile. “I know fire can hurt, but this one is contained, little one. I control how much it eats,” she said, gesturing at the pile of firewood stacked several feet away, more than enough to keep the first bright throughout the night, “and it will stay small and friendly and in its spot, as long as you do not try and touch it, it will not harm you, this I swear.”

Though, that explanation as the young woman in question -- Mara, she’d said her name was -- didn’t seem to understand the meaning of the word ‘friend’. Calla was not sure where this small human had come from, but it did not look to be a good place. The Komodo was determined that she would not return there, certainly not if she and Sunlight had anything to say about it.

“Friend,” she repeated. “One who is kind and does things to help you and does not harm you. Like myself, little Mara.”

She released the food readily enough as the redhead took it, smiling as she sat down back near the fire. The night would be brisk, and the Komodo, being cold-blooded as she was, did not savor the idea of cooling down already, when the worst of the chill had yet to set in.

“Red… water…? Do you mean blood, little one? I have already properly cleaned and cooked it. You should not be eating it raw, that is dangerous.”

She, herself, took the moment to begin eating, her own teeth just as sharp if not sharper than the human’s, as she carefully stripped the meat from the carcass, letting her watch the Komodo as she ate. This child, more feral, didn’t even seem to have the most basic of understandings of things… It was certainly not something that Calla was all right with. Still, she reached out, patting the log next to her to invite the girl closer to her.

“Mara, was it? Where are you from, little one?” she asked, curiously.

 

[Maranae]

She eyed the cooked bird mistrustfully, but tried a piece again anyway. The flavor was different, the texture foreign to her tongue. She did not understand what the Komodo meant by clean and cooking. The concepts had never been taught to her, primarily because she wasn't human. It was a small miracle that she could even speak, or had been allowed to in the first place.

Those dark times were behind her, left in the Bad Place.

"Blood? Red water is salty and...and...and good?" She seemed to struggle with conveying the concept. She found blood, as Calla called it, to be quite rich and delicious, as well as certain parts of the viscera. Why this was, she could not say...but thinking of rich red blood dripping from raw meat made her hungry enough to deal with the strange taste and texture of something that had been heated over the fire. She did not appear to enjoy the experience, though. Foreign, the whole concept.

The crunch of bone was a bit disconcerting, because the young woman ate everything - skin, meat, and bones.

At the invitation, the red head eagerly hopped up next to Calla, kicking her bare, dirty feet out and casting mistrustful glances at the fire. "Mara came from the Bad Place," she said happily around a mouthful of food, spraying bits of meat and white fragments of bone as she did. "Bad People in robes with big metal claws and hard skins were there, and tried to stop Mara from going."

She shivered as fragments of memories occurred to her, of the things that were done to her in that dark place. "Mara does not like the Bad Place. Does not want to go back to the Bad Place." A place where she had been treated like...well, not like a human. Like an object, or a beast.