| Fantasy Fiction posted April 1, 2012 | Chapters: |
...23 24 -25- 26... 
|
  |
An unusual understanding
A chapter in the book Gima The Beginning
Gima: Bonding Begins
by barkingdog
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Previously:
Trell and Gima, two Vertants, rescued Hunter, a human, from a forest fire. Trell has been tending Hunter's burns while Gima left to find herbs for treatment.
Hunter who rescued Gima from her Vermel parents and raised her with Asmel, knows nothing of Trell. Gima kept Trell a secret.
Blathen( a Vermel) and Zee, Trell and Gima's infant sons, are also in this camp.
Asmel, injured by a bear, lies wounded on the east trail.
CHAPTER 25
His fever lessened, no longer delirious, Hunter wakes and sits upright with a start.
Unable to remember a thing except stumbling through the east clearing's fire, lungs burning with smoke, Hunter stares and blinks dumbfoundedly, at a stranger—a tall, light-haired fellow in a deerskin loin cloth and boots, and two … well, one infant and something else, covered up … sleeping. When he tries to move, he winces in pain, coughs several times, spits black phlegm, and blurts out, “Oww ... damn it ... .”
From the shade of the willow, Trell springs to his feet, drawing his knife from its scabbard.
Now, what?
Blathen and Zee fidget and fuss before rolling together, back to sleep, under the furry cover.
Another problem just woke up. Trell takes a broad stance in front of his boys, blocking them from Hunter’s view. His stoic blue eyes meet Hunter’s questioning green ones.
"Where am I?" Hunter’s voice trembles. " Who are you?"
Should I speak? Trell is motionless.
“Blast it, man. Who are you?” Hunter repeats while tossing off the yards of Spanish moss that Trell had used to blanket him.
“Telly,” Trell says, coming fairly close to pronouncing the name Gima calls him, and then bows slightly, an Under Earth formality.
“Telly?”
Trell nods.
Hunter looks down at his foot to realize it’s been treated and appears to be healing. He bends his knees and stretches his legs. Well, I’ll be damned. The bottom half still works. He moves his left arm, stretching his burned side. But the top feels like hell. “Owwww.”
Trell stoops, reaches for the cup of echinacea and birch bark tea, and offers it to Hunter. With his hand cupped, Trell indicates ‘drink.’
Hunter cautiously takes a whiff then manages a bit of a chuckle in spite of the tightening burns on his face. “This tastes like the same nasty boot cleaner that Azzy gave me.” He sips, slowly, through blistered lips and worries, watching Trell casually scyth off low hanging willow leaves with a long blade.
Trell smiles, re-sheathes his knife, and crossing his arms, grunts approval.
Something in Trell's tone, the stance taken, raises what hairs are left on Hunter’s body. Immediately, he knows what Trell is. But, he also sees the knife is put away, and that he holds medicine—a vile mix that Asmel brews. He makes the connection. Gima!
Hunter drinks. Trell watches.
Luckily, the boys sleep hidden. Blathen has covered them both with the patchwork rabbit skin blanket to play his new game, ‘invisible.’ The clever vermel wiggles, having adventurous dreams of ‘red’ and many tasty bones.
Unexpectedly, a gnarled foot with a very, very long clawed first- toe and sizable, curved black claws on the other two pokes out. Its razor sharp nails cut the rabbit pelts’ stitching, and there it is, surrounded by ultra-soft brown and white fur, a very, very strange looking 'rabbit's foot,' indeed.
Comforted by the medicinal tea, Hunter has dozed off long ago.
In the moonlight under a clear sky, Trell guards what is his. Many sounds keep him company—crickets, frogs, armadillos routing for ants and howls of an occasional struggle between a field mouse and a fox, or a fox and a bobcat.
******
Bears and other forest inhabitants are impatient to cross the Ox Bow River and return to their territories on the other side.
Thanks to the torrential spring rain, the fire only caused minimal damage, and thus, only a temporary exodus. It destroyed an uneven radius from the clearing of up to three miles, or so. The westerly wind brought flames within a quarter mile of where Asmel lies.
Luckily for Asmel, the fierce black bear, alerted by the smoke, ceased mauling him and chose to escape with her three month old cubs across the Ox Bow's wide green waters to safety.
Now, waiting for the last scent of smoldering patches to subside, it was nearly time for nature's refugees to go home. Catching catfish for breakfast from the shallows of the river make this a very good morning for bears.
******
Asmel tries to move. His right arm and left leg are useless after being tossed around like a rag-doll by something ginormous with terrible breath. He remembers striking out with his knife then everything went black. He felt no pain, until now.
Blood crusts his entire upper torso. He touches the back of his head. Man, I need stitches. Why am I worried about stitches? I’m bait.
He smells the fire, still, burning itself out in small contained areas.
Shit, Hunter are you dead, too? Is this the end of us? Not Vermel or Vertant, but Mother Nature, herself, got the best of us.
Scout 453 marches home with a crew of red ant gatherers who carry twigs and leaves spattered with Asmel’s blood. They pay the human no mind, being in a hurry to report back to their tree and close up shop for the night. Their shift is over. There’s always more to do tomorrow after the nocturnals show up for the night shift.
Asmel lies back as darkness enters the east forest path. Maybe, tomorrow … He drifts in and out of sleep. The face of a small black bear wakes him ... but it's only a dream ... one that brings sweats of terror.
******
At dawn in the north forest, the cougar gathers her cubs and back tracks to the site of the rattlesnake kill where she picks up Gima’s scent. After a few miles, the tawny hunter realizes that it leads to the valley of the deer where the wolf pack reigns.
A pack of wolves is a high risk to take for an unfamiliar scent, but she hasn’t heard the howls of its lead dog on the hill’s horizon for many a night, nor does she smell fresh wolf markings as she sniffs the territorial line and lays down her own spray.
Clawing hunger pushes her to cautiously chance the move forward into wolf territory. Visions of white tail sprinting away, or a spotted innocent left behind is tantalizing. She licks her jowls and purrs. Soon … very soon.
Three clumsy cougar cubs bat at butterflies on the honeysuckle along the trail and scamper to catch up to their mother, a ravenous beast, with a purpose—to find this new scent’s source and catch it, or at least, easily, pounce a fawn for early breakfast.
******
Trell sits cross-legged, a proud new being to Upper Earth, and watches his favorite part of the day. The moment when the valley comes out of darkness. He watches the sunrise paint the mountain fog pink and gold, and gradually bring warmth, waking the Valley's magic. A gentle breeze sways the willow tendrils above his head as scents of lavender, ripe berries and the green of the field drift in on moist morning dew.
Fat, round-breasted robins fly from their nests to hop about and peck for early worms in the dampness while the night critters scurry off with full bellies to bed.
Trell takes it all in as if it were a private symphony presented just for his enjoyment while he, casually, chomps on one of many apples that he’s collected when the others slept.
Blathen, his foot still sticking out of the rabbit-fur blanket, is annoyed by Zee’s kicks and whining. With sweet apple juice atomizing in his direction, Blathen's up, happy, ready to eat, throwing off the covers.
Silently, Trell signs, “Catch,” and tossing him an apple, winks.
Blathen spears it and winks back. With apple juice and drool running down his chin, the fur ball retreats when he sees the red-haired stranger move.
After a good night's sleep, Hunter wakes to the sound of munching slurps.
“Telly, how’s about one over here?” Hunter cups his hands, waiting for a toss.
Trell continues to eat.
“Aw, come on,” Hunter chorts, “I’m hungry.”
Trell starts and turns his head at the familiar language, grunts and tosses an apple. Hunter goes to catch it, and a small clawed hand intercepts.
Holy shit! Is that what I think it is? Pretending not to see, Hunter asks again, “Apple, then?” And raises his hands to catch. This time the pass is completed.
Blathen peeks out from the hole in the rabbit pelts; he's curious and trying very hard not to snort, amused at playing invisible apple snatcher.
One dark eye surrounded by fur is all that Hunter can see, but he’d recognize an eye like that, anywhere. He moves a few feet away, feigning a long stretch. He yawns, looking for some excuse to leave the group—to escape the secreted vermel eye.
“Hey, man. I’ve gotta piss.”
Trell looks confused.
Hunter repeats in Vermel, “I gotta pee. Be a sport. Help me up ... over there?” Hunter points to an oak at the edge of the meadow, 10 yards away.
Hunter is afraid. Trell smells it, and the patch of hair at the base of his spine stands on end.
Blathen’s collector waves from the peek-hole, tasting it, as well.
Then Zee begins to squall, and Trell’s concern shifts.
Blathen withdraws, curls up, and sighs. The noisy one’s awake.
Trell turns to Zee, chortles a comforting Vertant tonal rhyme, picks him up and efficiently tucks him into a side sling over his broad left shoulder. Zee coos, pulls Trell’s long hair and searches his smooth tan chest for breakfast.
Hunter’s jaw drops at seeing ‘his’ infant—the one that he and Azzy have been looking for. He does look like me.
“Zee.” Trell says, presenting his son, holding him up and forward.
“Zee?”
“Yes. My second son.”
Hunter looks toward the peering eye in the blanket.
Trell stands, a smiling tower of a being, adjusts his manhood and clicks, “Come then.” He pulls Hunter up to standing by his right arm and fairly lifts him to the oak where he sets an example and motions to Hunter to join in. “Go. Go.”
Together they mark the tree. Trell sprays wildly and laughs with a long melodic, Under Earth tone, pleased at this excellent male bonding ritual. He is Gima’s Papa Hunter. This is good. He and I.
He slaps Hunter on the back, slamming him into the tree and laughs even louder at Hunter's baffled expression.
Hunter, not knowing what to make of all this laughing and back slapping, squirts, not as playfully as Trell but in shorter protective bursts. No matter, Trell takes it as a friendly gesture done as best as can be expected by a human.
Meanwhile, tired of hide and peek, Blathen is over in the apples making a mess of it, tossing them everywhere, pitching hard and far just like his dad.
When he sees Hunter, hobbling back, he lobs an apple in his direction, and laughs a big hee-haw. Hunter manages to catch it, barely, rescuing his family jewels from a smashing blow. When he looks up and realizes who threw it, seeing Blathen in all his naked glory, old fears surface. Hunter's head feels light. Shit, not now. Don't blank out now. You don't have time to wimp out.
Trell interrupts Hunter's thoughts of the past with formality, another introduction.
“Blathen, this human is Mama's Papa Hunter, be nice and behave,” Trell chorts, standing beside his feisty, apple-marauding pitching-machine. "Papa Hunter, this is my second son, Blathen."
Hunter’s two eyes meet Blathen’s one sparkling cobalt orb with its long red lashes. Blathen looks up and bats his eyelid several times as he has seen Zee do to charm Gima. Copy-cat time. So many games.
Hunter sees no enemy, only a small ball of fuzz, innocently chomping apples—one bite out of each and every one before throwing it to bulls-eye a knot hole on the oak.
Off to milk a deer for Zee who's in a carry sling, Trell leaves the human and Vermel alone. They sit staring at each other until Blathen gently tosses Hunter another apple. “Eat,” he clicks, “eat.” He bites an apple and drools, grinning at this tasty game. "Then throw, fast. Like this," he chorts.
Hunter babysits a Vermel. What do I do when Blathen runs out of apples?
It's a most unusual morning for a human.
Dear Reader: The GLOSSARY is included by request. It's not a required part of the reading. It's merely to assist a new audience. Thank you for reading. :) barking dog
Previously:
Trell and Gima, two Vertants, rescued Hunter, a human, from a forest fire. Trell has been tending Hunter's burns while Gima left to find herbs for treatment.
Hunter who rescued Gima from her Vermel parents and raised her with Asmel, knows nothing of Trell. Gima kept Trell a secret.
Blathen( a Vermel) and Zee, Trell and Gima's infant sons, are also in this camp.
Asmel, injured by a bear, lies wounded on the east trail.
CHAPTER 25
His fever lessened, no longer delirious, Hunter wakes and sits upright with a start.
Unable to remember a thing except stumbling through the east clearing's fire, lungs burning with smoke, Hunter stares and blinks dumbfoundedly, at a stranger—a tall, light-haired fellow in a deerskin loin cloth and boots, and two … well, one infant and something else, covered up … sleeping. When he tries to move, he winces in pain, coughs several times, spits black phlegm, and blurts out, “Oww ... damn it ... .”
From the shade of the willow, Trell springs to his feet, drawing his knife from its scabbard.
Now, what?
Blathen and Zee fidget and fuss before rolling together, back to sleep, under the furry cover.
Another problem just woke up. Trell takes a broad stance in front of his boys, blocking them from Hunter’s view. His stoic blue eyes meet Hunter’s questioning green ones.
"Where am I?" Hunter’s voice trembles. " Who are you?"
Should I speak? Trell is motionless.
“Blast it, man. Who are you?” Hunter repeats while tossing off the yards of Spanish moss that Trell had used to blanket him.
“Telly,” Trell says, coming fairly close to pronouncing the name Gima calls him, and then bows slightly, an Under Earth formality.
“Telly?”
Trell nods.
Hunter looks down at his foot to realize it’s been treated and appears to be healing. He bends his knees and stretches his legs. Well, I’ll be damned. The bottom half still works. He moves his left arm, stretching his burned side. But the top feels like hell. “Owwww.”
Trell stoops, reaches for the cup of echinacea and birch bark tea, and offers it to Hunter. With his hand cupped, Trell indicates ‘drink.’
Hunter cautiously takes a whiff then manages a bit of a chuckle in spite of the tightening burns on his face. “This tastes like the same nasty boot cleaner that Azzy gave me.” He sips, slowly, through blistered lips and worries, watching Trell casually scyth off low hanging willow leaves with a long blade.
Trell smiles, re-sheathes his knife, and crossing his arms, grunts approval.
Something in Trell's tone, the stance taken, raises what hairs are left on Hunter’s body. Immediately, he knows what Trell is. But, he also sees the knife is put away, and that he holds medicine—a vile mix that Asmel brews. He makes the connection. Gima!
Hunter drinks. Trell watches.
Luckily, the boys sleep hidden. Blathen has covered them both with the patchwork rabbit skin blanket to play his new game, ‘invisible.’ The clever vermel wiggles, having adventurous dreams of ‘red’ and many tasty bones.
Unexpectedly, a gnarled foot with a very, very long clawed first- toe and sizable, curved black claws on the other two pokes out. Its razor sharp nails cut the rabbit pelts’ stitching, and there it is, surrounded by ultra-soft brown and white fur, a very, very strange looking 'rabbit's foot,' indeed.
Comforted by the medicinal tea, Hunter has dozed off long ago.
In the moonlight under a clear sky, Trell guards what is his. Many sounds keep him company—crickets, frogs, armadillos routing for ants and howls of an occasional struggle between a field mouse and a fox, or a fox and a bobcat.
******
Bears and other forest inhabitants are impatient to cross the Ox Bow River and return to their territories on the other side.
Thanks to the torrential spring rain, the fire only caused minimal damage, and thus, only a temporary exodus. It destroyed an uneven radius from the clearing of up to three miles, or so. The westerly wind brought flames within a quarter mile of where Asmel lies.
Luckily for Asmel, the fierce black bear, alerted by the smoke, ceased mauling him and chose to escape with her three month old cubs across the Ox Bow's wide green waters to safety.
Now, waiting for the last scent of smoldering patches to subside, it was nearly time for nature's refugees to go home. Catching catfish for breakfast from the shallows of the river make this a very good morning for bears.
******
Asmel tries to move. His right arm and left leg are useless after being tossed around like a rag-doll by something ginormous with terrible breath. He remembers striking out with his knife then everything went black. He felt no pain, until now.
Blood crusts his entire upper torso. He touches the back of his head. Man, I need stitches. Why am I worried about stitches? I’m bait.
He smells the fire, still, burning itself out in small contained areas.
Shit, Hunter are you dead, too? Is this the end of us? Not Vermel or Vertant, but Mother Nature, herself, got the best of us.
Scout 453 marches home with a crew of red ant gatherers who carry twigs and leaves spattered with Asmel’s blood. They pay the human no mind, being in a hurry to report back to their tree and close up shop for the night. Their shift is over. There’s always more to do tomorrow after the nocturnals show up for the night shift.
Asmel lies back as darkness enters the east forest path. Maybe, tomorrow … He drifts in and out of sleep. The face of a small black bear wakes him ... but it's only a dream ... one that brings sweats of terror.
******
At dawn in the north forest, the cougar gathers her cubs and back tracks to the site of the rattlesnake kill where she picks up Gima’s scent. After a few miles, the tawny hunter realizes that it leads to the valley of the deer where the wolf pack reigns.
A pack of wolves is a high risk to take for an unfamiliar scent, but she hasn’t heard the howls of its lead dog on the hill’s horizon for many a night, nor does she smell fresh wolf markings as she sniffs the territorial line and lays down her own spray.
Clawing hunger pushes her to cautiously chance the move forward into wolf territory. Visions of white tail sprinting away, or a spotted innocent left behind is tantalizing. She licks her jowls and purrs. Soon … very soon.
Previously:
Trell and Gima, two Vertants, rescued Hunter, a human, from a forest fire. Trell has been tending Hunter's burns while Gima left to find herbs for treatment.
Hunter who rescued Gima from her Vermel parents and raised her with Asmel, knows nothing of Trell. Gima kept Trell a secret.
Blathen( a Vermel) and Zee, Trell and Gima's infant sons, are also in this camp.
Asmel, injured by a bear, lies wounded on the east trail.
CHAPTER 25
His fever lessened, no longer delirious, Hunter wakes and sits upright with a start.
Unable to remember a thing except stumbling through the east clearing's fire, lungs burning with smoke, Hunter stares and blinks dumbfoundedly, at a stranger—a tall, light-haired fellow in a deerskin loin cloth and boots, and two … well, one infant and something else, covered up … sleeping. When he tries to move, he winces in pain, coughs several times, spits black phlegm, and blurts out, “Oww ... damn it ... .”
From the shade of the willow, Trell springs to his feet, drawing his knife from its scabbard.
Now, what?
Blathen and Zee fidget and fuss before rolling together, back to sleep, under the furry cover.
Another problem just woke up. Trell takes a broad stance in front of his boys, blocking them from Hunter’s view. His stoic blue eyes meet Hunter’s questioning green ones.
"Where am I?" Hunter’s voice trembles. " Who are you?"
Should I speak? Trell is motionless.
“Blast it, man. Who are you?” Hunter repeats while tossing off the yards of Spanish moss that Trell had used to blanket him.
“Telly,” Trell says, coming fairly close to pronouncing the name Gima calls him, and then bows slightly, an Under Earth formality.
“Telly?”
Trell nods.
Hunter looks down at his foot to realize it’s been treated and appears to be healing. He bends his knees and stretches his legs. Well, I’ll be damned. The bottom half still works. He moves his left arm, stretching his burned side. But the top feels like hell. “Owwww.”
Trell stoops, reaches for the cup of echinacea and birch bark tea, and offers it to Hunter. With his hand cupped, Trell indicates ‘drink.’
Hunter cautiously takes a whiff then manages a bit of a chuckle in spite of the tightening burns on his face. “This tastes like the same nasty boot cleaner that Azzy gave me.” He sips, slowly, through blistered lips and worries, watching Trell casually scyth off low hanging willow leaves with a long blade.
Trell smiles, re-sheathes his knife, and crossing his arms, grunts approval.
Something in Trell's tone, the stance taken, raises what hairs are left on Hunter’s body. Immediately, he knows what Trell is. But, he also sees the knife is put away, and that he holds medicine—a vile mix that Asmel brews. He makes the connection. Gima!
Hunter drinks. Trell watches.
Luckily, the boys sleep hidden. Blathen has covered them both with the patchwork rabbit skin blanket to play his new game, ‘invisible.’ The clever vermel wiggles, having adventurous dreams of ‘red’ and many tasty bones.
Unexpectedly, a gnarled foot with a very, very long clawed first- toe and sizable, curved black claws on the other two pokes out. Its razor sharp nails cut the rabbit pelts’ stitching, and there it is, surrounded by ultra-soft brown and white fur, a very, very strange looking 'rabbit's foot,' indeed.
Comforted by the medicinal tea, Hunter has dozed off long ago.
In the moonlight under a clear sky, Trell guards what is his. Many sounds keep him company—crickets, frogs, armadillos routing for ants and howls of an occasional struggle between a field mouse and a fox, or a fox and a bobcat.
******
Bears and other forest inhabitants are impatient to cross the Ox Bow River and return to their territories on the other side.
Thanks to the torrential spring rain, the fire only caused minimal damage, and thus, only a temporary exodus. It destroyed an uneven radius from the clearing of up to three miles, or so. The westerly wind brought flames within a quarter mile of where Asmel lies.
Luckily for Asmel, the fierce black bear, alerted by the smoke, ceased mauling him and chose to escape with her three month old cubs across the Ox Bow's wide green waters to safety.
Now, waiting for the last scent of smoldering patches to subside, it was nearly time for nature's refugees to go home. Catching catfish for breakfast from the shallows of the river make this a very good morning for bears.
******
Asmel tries to move. His right arm and left leg are useless after being tossed around like a rag-doll by something ginormous with terrible breath. He remembers striking out with his knife then everything went black. He felt no pain, until now.
Blood crusts his entire upper torso. He touches the back of his head. Man, I need stitches. Why am I worried about stitches? I’m bait.
He smells the fire, still, burning itself out in small contained areas.
Shit, Hunter are you dead, too? Is this the end of us? Not Vermel or Vertant, but Mother Nature, herself, got the best of us.
Scout 453 marches home with a crew of red ant gatherers who carry twigs and leaves spattered with Asmel’s blood. They pay the human no mind, being in a hurry to report back to their tree and close up shop for the night. Their shift is over. There’s always more to do tomorrow after the nocturnals show up for the night shift.
Asmel lies back as darkness enters the east forest path. Maybe, tomorrow … He drifts in and out of sleep. The face of a small black bear wakes him ... but it's only a dream ... one that brings sweats of terror.
******
At dawn in the north forest, the cougar gathers her cubs and back tracks to the site of the rattlesnake kill where she picks up Gima’s scent. After a few miles, the tawny hunter realizes that it leads to the valley of the deer where the wolf pack reigns.
A pack of wolves is a high risk to take for an unfamiliar scent, but she hasn’t heard the howls of its lead dog on the hill’s horizon for many a night, nor does she smell fresh wolf markings as she sniffs the territorial line and lays down her own spray.
Clawing hunger pushes her to cautiously chance the move forward into wolf territory. Visions of white tail sprinting away, or a spotted innocent left behind is tantalizing. She licks her jowls and purrs. Soon … very soon.
Three clumsy cougar cubs bat at butterflies on the honeysuckle along the trail and scamper to catch up to their mother, a ravenous beast, with a purpose—to find this new scent’s source and catch it, or at least, easily, pounce a fawn for early breakfast.
******
Trell sits cross-legged, a proud new being to Upper Earth, and watches his favorite part of the day. The moment when the valley comes out of darkness. He watches the sunrise paint the mountain fog pink and gold, and gradually bring warmth, waking the Valley's magic. A gentle breeze sways the willow tendrils above his head as scents of lavender, ripe berries and the green of the field drift in on moist morning dew.
Fat, round-breasted robins fly from their nests to hop about and peck for early worms in the dampness while the night critters scurry off with full bellies to bed.
Trell takes it all in as if it were a private symphony presented just for his enjoyment while he, casually, chomps on one of many apples that he’s collected when the others slept.
Blathen, his foot still sticking out of the rabbit-fur blanket, is annoyed by Zee’s kicks and whining. With sweet apple juice atomizing in his direction, Blathen's up, happy, ready to eat, throwing off the covers.
Silently, Trell signs, “Catch,” and tossing him an apple, winks.
Blathen spears it and winks back. With apple juice and drool running down his chin, the fur ball retreats when he sees the red-haired stranger move.
After a good night's sleep, Hunter wakes to the sound of munching slurps.
“Telly, how’s about one over here?” Hunter cups his hands, waiting for a toss.
Trell continues to eat.
“Aw, come on,” Hunter chorts, “I’m hungry.”
Trell starts and turns his head at the familiar language, grunts and tosses an apple. Hunter goes to catch it, and a small clawed hand intercepts.
Holy shit! Is that what I think it is? Pretending not to see, Hunter asks again, “Apple, then?” And raises his hands to catch. This time the pass is completed.
Blathen peeks out from the hole in the rabbit pelts; he's curious and trying very hard not to snort, amused at playing invisible apple snatcher.
One dark eye surrounded by fur is all that Hunter can see, but he’d recognize an eye like that, anywhere. He moves a few feet away, feigning a long stretch. He yawns, looking for some excuse to leave the group—to escape the secreted vermel eye.
“Hey, man. I’ve gotta piss.”
Trell looks confused.
Hunter repeats in Vermel, “I gotta pee. Be a sport. Help me up ... over there?” Hunter points to an oak at the edge of the meadow, 10 yards away.
Hunter is afraid. Trell smells it, and the patch of hair at the base of his spine stands on end.
Blathen’s collector waves from the peek-hole, tasting it, as well.
Then Zee begins to squall, and Trell’s concern shifts.
Blathen withdraws, curls up, and sighs. The noisy one’s awake.
Trell turns to Zee, chortles a comforting Vertant tonal rhyme, picks him up and efficiently tucks him into a side sling over his broad left shoulder. Zee coos, pulls Trell’s long hair and searches his smooth tan chest for breakfast.
Hunter’s jaw drops at seeing ‘his’ infant—the one that he and Azzy have been looking for. He does look like me.
“Zee.” Trell says, presenting his son, holding him up and forward.
“Zee?”
“Yes. My second son.”
Hunter looks toward the peering eye in the blanket.
Trell stands, a smiling tower of a being, adjusts his manhood and clicks, “Come then.” He pulls Hunter up to standing by his right arm and fairly lifts him to the oak where he sets an example and motions to Hunter to join in. “Go. Go.”
Together they mark the tree. Trell sprays wildly and laughs with a long melodic, Under Earth tone, pleased at this excellent male bonding ritual. He is Gima’s Papa Hunter. This is good. He and I.
He slaps Hunter on the back, slamming him into the tree and laughs even louder at Hunter's baffled expression.
Hunter, not knowing what to make of all this laughing and back slapping, squirts, not as playfully as Trell but in shorter protective bursts. No matter, Trell takes it as a friendly gesture done as best as can be expected by a human.
Meanwhile, tired of hide and peek, Blathen is over in the apples making a mess of it, tossing them everywhere, pitching hard and far just like his dad.
When he sees Hunter, hobbling back, he lobs an apple in his direction, and laughs a big hee-haw. Hunter manages to catch it, barely, rescuing his family jewels from a smashing blow. When he looks up and realizes who threw it, seeing Blathen in all his naked glory, old fears surface. Hunter's head feels light. Shit, not now. Don't blank out now. You don't have time to wimp out.
Trell interrupts Hunter's thoughts of the past with formality, another introduction.
“Blathen, this human is Mama's Papa Hunter, be nice and behave,” Trell chorts, standing beside his feisty, apple-marauding pitching-machine. "Papa Hunter, this is my second son, Blathen."
Hunter’s two eyes meet Blathen’s one sparkling cobalt orb with its long red lashes. Blathen looks up and bats his eyelid several times as he has seen Zee do to charm Gima. Copy-cat time. So many games.
Hunter sees no enemy, only a small ball of fuzz, innocently chomping apples—one bite out of each and every one before throwing it to bulls-eye a knot hole on the oak.
Off to milk a deer for Zee who's in a carry sling, Trell leaves the human and Vermel alone. They sit staring at each other until Blathen gently tosses Hunter another apple. “Eat,” he clicks, “eat.” He bites an apple and drools, grinning at this tasty game. "Then throw, fast. Like this," he chorts.
Hunter babysits a Vermel. What do I do when Blathen runs out of apples?
It's a most unusual morning for a human.
******
Trell sits cross-legged, a proud new being to Upper Earth, and watches his favorite part of the day. The moment when the valley comes out of darkness. He watches the sunrise paint the mountain fog pink and gold, and gradually bring warmth, waking the Valley's magic. A gentle breeze sways the willow tendrils above his head as scents of lavender, ripe berries and the green of the field drift in on moist morning dew.
Fat, round-breasted robins fly from their nests to hop about and peck for early worms in the dampness while the night critters scurry off with full bellies to bed.
Trell takes it all in as if it were a private symphony presented just for his enjoyment while he, casually, chomps on one of many apples that he’s collected when the others slept.
Blathen, his foot still sticking out of the rabbit-fur blanket, is annoyed by Zee’s kicks and whining. With sweet apple juice atomizing in his direction, Blathen's up, happy, ready to eat, throwing off the covers.
Silently, Trell signs, “Catch,” and tossing him an apple, winks.
Blathen spears it and winks back. With apple juice and drool running down his chin, the fur ball retreats when he sees the red-haired stranger move.
After a good night's sleep, Hunter wakes to the sound of munching slurps.
“Telly, how’s about one over here?” Hunter cups his hands, waiting for a toss.
Trell continues to eat.
“Aw, come on,” Hunter chorts, “I’m hungry.”
Trell starts and turns his head at the familiar language, grunts and tosses an apple. Hunter goes to catch it, and a small clawed hand intercepts.
Holy shit! Is that what I think it is? Pretending not to see, Hunter asks again, “Apple, then?” And raises his hands to catch. This time the pass is completed.
Blathen peeks out from the hole in the rabbit pelts; he's curious and trying very hard not to snort, amused at playing invisible apple snatcher.
One dark eye surrounded by fur is all that Hunter can see, but he’d recognize an eye like that, anywhere. He moves a few feet away, feigning a long stretch. He yawns, looking for some excuse to leave the group—to escape the secreted vermel eye.
“Hey, man. I’ve gotta piss.”
Trell looks confused.
Hunter repeats in Vermel, “I gotta pee. Be a sport. Help me up ... over there?” Hunter points to an oak at the edge of the meadow, 10 yards away.
Hunter is afraid. Trell smells it, and the patch of hair at the base of his spine stands on end.
Blathen’s collector waves from the peek-hole, tasting it, as well.
Then Zee begins to squall, and Trell’s concern shifts.
Blathen withdraws, curls up, and sighs. The noisy one’s awake.
Trell turns to Zee, chortles a comforting Vertant tonal rhyme, picks him up and efficiently tucks him into a side sling over his broad left shoulder. Zee coos, pulls Trell’s long hair and searches his smooth tan chest for breakfast.
Hunter’s jaw drops at seeing ‘his’ infant—the one that he and Azzy have been looking for. He does look like me.
“Zee.” Trell says, presenting his son, holding him up and forward.
“Zee?”
“Yes. My second son.”
Hunter looks toward the peering eye in the blanket.
Trell stands, a smiling tower of a being, adjusts his manhood and clicks, “Come then.” He pulls Hunter up to standing by his right arm and fairly lifts him to the oak where he sets an example and motions to Hunter to join in. “Go. Go.”
Together they mark the tree. Trell sprays wildly and laughs with a long melodic, Under Earth tone, pleased at this excellent male bonding ritual. He is Gima’s Papa Hunter. This is good. He and I.
He slaps Hunter on the back, slamming him into the tree and laughs even louder at Hunter's baffled expression.
Hunter, not knowing what to make of all this laughing and back slapping, squirts, not as playfully as Trell but in shorter protective bursts. No matter, Trell takes it as a friendly gesture done as best as can be expected by a human.
Meanwhile, tired of hide and peek, Blathen is over in the apples making a mess of it, tossing them everywhere, pitching hard and far just like his dad.
When he sees Hunter, hobbling back, he lobs an apple in his direction, and laughs a big hee-haw. Hunter manages to catch it, barely, rescuing his family jewels from a smashing blow. When he looks up and realizes who threw it, seeing Blathen in all his naked glory, old fears surface. Hunter's head feels light. Shit, not now. Don't blank out now. You don't have time to wimp out.
Trell interrupts Hunter's thoughts of the past with formality, another introduction.
“Blathen, this human is Mama's Papa Hunter, be nice and behave,” Trell chorts, standing beside his feisty, apple-marauding pitching-machine. "Papa Hunter, this is my second son, Blathen."
Hunter’s two eyes meet Blathen’s one sparkling cobalt orb with its long red lashes. Blathen looks up and bats his eyelid several times as he has seen Zee do to charm Gima. Copy-cat time. So many games.
Hunter sees no enemy, only a small ball of fuzz, innocently chomping apples—one bite out of each and every one before throwing it to bulls-eye a knot hole on the oak.
Off to milk a deer for Zee who's in a carry sling, Trell leaves the human and Vermel alone. They sit staring at each other until Blathen gently tosses Hunter another apple. “Eat,” he clicks, “eat.” He bites an apple and drools, grinning at this tasty game. "Then throw, fast. Like this," he chorts.
Hunter babysits a Vermel. What do I do when Blathen runs out of apples?
It's a most unusual morning for a human.
 Recognized |
HERBAL INFORMATION:
ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi.
http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx
MARIGOLD:
The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well.
Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr
Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits
Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ
COMFREY:
One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation
From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia
CORN:
The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above.
ALOE:
The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis.
http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html
UNDER EARTH SPECIES:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human.
Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts.
Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat).
dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester;
somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization.
DRINKS & SMOKING
Elixirs:
Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear
Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize
Caramel-clarity(female enhancement)
Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement)
Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind
Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City
Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth
Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor
LOCATIONS:
Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory.
Bellow City- located in Under Earth.
Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'.
Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs.
Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar.
Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer
CHARACTERS:
Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel
Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate.
Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One.
Zee-Gima's second son who looks human
Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD.
Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima
Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased
Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena
Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants.
Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel
Picar-Vertant at Sadie's
Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite.
Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive
Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover
Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales.
Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin
Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother
Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell
Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel
Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover
Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help
Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer
Vermel speech/sounds:
twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern.
chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says.
toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech
thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal.
Vocabulary:
particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant.
Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor
Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation.
And-End - Amen
Pernard- a Vermel curse
Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles.
Mintrinet - minute
alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal.
mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil.
Pays
one point
and 2 member cents. ECHINACEA- an herbal remedy prepared from the pulverized leaves and stems of purple coneflowers, thought to bolster the immune system; Echinacea (E. purpurea, angustifolia, pallida), while more famous for its immune-enhancing properties, was used topically by Native Americans and white settlers to heal wounds, insect stings, and snake bites. Scientific studies confirm that plant extracts are anti-inflammatory and hasten skin repair. Chemical constituents of echinacea also protect collagen (the protein that gives skin its strength) from free radical damage, as can happen after exposure to ultraviolet light. The plant also inhibits hyaluronidase, an enzyme that digests connective tissue (including the gel-like matrix in the deeper layers of the skin). Theoretically, inhibit of this enzyme can help keep that skin Jello intact, retard the spread of toxins through tissues, and keep tissues from leaking fluids (as happens after a bee sting). Echinacea also has some activity against bacterial and fungi.
http://www.herbco.com/t-herbs-for-skin.aspx
MARIGOLD:
The marigold plant acts as an anti-inflammatory and soothing agent, helping to reduce inflammation due to irritation, pain and swelling. By speeding up healing time, the marigold also protects against bacterial infection when used on burns, stings and other inflammation of the body or on the skin. Marigold can be used on any inflamed or infected skin, and even aids in reducing varicose ulcers. A compress of marigold flowers is used on irritated and inflamed skin, while a juice made from marigold leaves can be used to heal warts. Marigold juice may be made not only from leaves, but from stems and flowers as well.
Sponsored Links Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jDEpJr
Create a lotion by cooking fresh marigold flowers in preheated lard. After stirring, leave the mixture overnight and reheat before straining into a jar to be used to soothe skin irritations such as burns. COMFREY root is often added to this mixture for added healing benefits
Read more: Marigolds Used for Health | eHow.com http://www.ehow.com/info_8085116_marigolds-used-health.html#ixzz1p8jZPYtQ
COMFREY:
One of the most common uses of Comfrey extract is as a skin treatment. The plant contains the small organic molecule allantoin, which is thought to stimulate cell growth and repair while simultaneously depressing inflammation
From the Univ. of Maryland Med. Center as sited on Wikipedia
CORN:
The fresh silks contain allantoin; see 'comfrey'above.
ALOE:
The juice from its leaves stimulates skin growth and repair; reduces pain and inflammation; may be taken internally; increases production of fibroblast cells responsible for collagen in the skin's dermis.
http://www.ehow.com/list_7470591_healing-properties-aloe.html
UNDER EARTH SPECIES:
Vertant-the off-spring of two Vermel; looks human.
Vermel-mutated humans who live in Under Earth; communicate via sign language and various sounds; noted by their single, particulate-collector naris; one eye; dark or red, coarse body hair; flat or twisted feet with three to six long toes; three fingered hands with long curving claw-like nails; pointed teeth in irregular, double rows; intelligent, but with strong base instincts.
Particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation to living in a polluted underground; mutation ; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnant nodes in nasal pharynx tissue(back of throat).
dissident-rebel, nonconformist, protester;
somebody who publicly disagrees with an established political or religious system or organization.
DRINKS & SMOKING
Elixirs:
Euphoric-Blue - arouses passion without arousing anger or fear
Green - calms aggression and base tendencies to mutilate, kill, cannibalize
Caramel-clarity(female enhancement)
Ruby-rigidity (male enhancement)
Fitzel- a carbonated alcoholic beverage; a light intoxication; makes one funny, silly, uninhibited, kind
Smoking- usually a mix of madine and sedderthal Hallucinogenic fungi grown in Bellow City
Fazil- a smoking or chewing compound that stains the teeth
Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor
LOCATIONS:
Under Earth- a civilization that exists totally under ground; Vermel territory.
Bellow City- located in Under Earth.
Jacknel's Arena- where Hunter and Trell were trained and exploited as 'Man' and 'Man #2'.
Club ErrOw- a dance club downstairs; Chambers for coupling are upstairs.
Sadie's Palace - a night spot where Vertant males are displayed for Vermel viewing and pleasure; masterbation columns are very popular in the Mural Room as is the free elixir bar.
Alitian - Sir Alitus was the atrium's designer
CHARACTERS:
Gima-a Vertant; rescued and raised by Hunter and Asmel
Trell- a Vertant; raised by Vermel, escaped to Upper Earth; has not yet learned to speak but has learned to understand it from Gima, his mate.
Blathen- Gima and Trell's Vermel son; single, particulate-collector naris, one eye; on the hierarchy of Vermel his appearance labels him a Prime-One.
Zee-Gima's second son who looks human
Hunter- Nigel once a business man in the city; was captured and tortured by Ticum to become 'Man' in Jacknel's Arena in Bellow City; 'Papa' to Gima; suffers from PTSD.
Asmal- a survivalist; built a cabin in the mountains; rescued Hunter; raised Gima with Hunter; 'Papa-Azzy' to Gima
Ticum-Vermel;Jacknel's Circus trainer; beat and tortured Hunter; deceased
Trum- Vermel; Ticum's brother; Trell's trainer at Jacknel's Arena
Sadie- runs a display and pleasure house featuring male Vertants.
Milim - Sadie's assistant a Vermel
Picar-Vertant at Sadie's
Jami-Picar's Vertant lover; Sadie's favorite.
Mr. Arnst- Trell's abusive uncle; now a caznu(neutered)and no longer abusive
Rom- Arnst's younger companion, lover
Disposal Officer- Designated by numbers e.g. DO-45, DO-50; executioners; but they sell their prisoners, usually Vertants, on the black-market to various shady characters like Jacknel and Sadie for use in sport, entertainment, pleasure and artificial insemination collection and sales.
Trolious- Head of Ministerial Affairs; Trell's father; Sadie's first cousin
Lida - Trolious' wife; Trell's mother
Betta - Lida's sister in Cindel City; raised Trell
Larue- Assistant of Ministerial Affairs; canzu(involuntarilly castrated by Dyrel) Vermel
Brackus- Larue's Vertant charge and lover
Lem- the youngest Vertant to escape with Larue's help
Rolak- Chief Enforcement Officer
Vermel speech/sounds:
twortle-a sound pattern distinctive to the Vermel; a combination of glottal stops, tongue click-clucks and snorts; an assertive pattern.
chort- throaty sounds varying in tonal inflection and duration; normal speech; he chorts=he says.
toning- saying; using a series of sounds other than speech
thrumping songs-songs Trell learned growing up in Bellow City, Under Earth; melodic, throaty, glottal.
Vocabulary:
particulate collector - a Vermel adaptation, mutation; porous tubular filaments; can extend from the naris in a searching fashion; they both taste and smell; alert to emotions of other species; Vertants may or may not have remnants; nodes in nasal pharynx tissue may be all that remain in Vertant.
Arnag-a fungus grown as food; a favorite rubber-chew flavor
Caznu-neutered male Vermel; usually gay and neutered by choice for the good of the gene pool by decree of Trolious ; castration is a common punishment regardless of sexual orientation.
And-End - Amen
Pernard- a Vermel curse
Dangle- a Vermel penis; they have two dangles.
Mintrinet - minute
alum- short for aluminium; usually recycled cans; a valued metal.
mold-blossom - a fungi; small, dark brown and caramel colored flowerettes cluster to form a large crysantehmum-type flower; its heavy, sweet decaying scent is used in perfumed oil.
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