THE ARK'S LAST NIGHTBLOOD | LEXA KOM TRIKRU

S I X

I CROUCHED OVER and plucked the tiny magenta-colored dewberries off the leafy shrub and dropped them into my small leather pouch.

This has to be enough, I thought hopefully.

I'd been on my own for a full two weeks and I had reveled in every little moment that the ground had to offer. I hunted by myself, ate by myself, and slept by myself. Oh, how I rejoiced in the feeling!

Every little act the prisoners had achieved on the ground, for the most part, was straining and exhausting or just plain boring and for what? I was having the best time of my life since I had left them for good.

I picked a just few more berries and placed them into the pouch before pulling the strings on top to close it. This had to be enough for a trade.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Bree, why the hell are you going to meet with a grounder on purpose. To answer your question, I needed more supplies, supplies that I couldn't make on my own, and this was the easiest way to achieve that.

The trek to the shack was an easy one but avoiding the large men hanging around it would be a little tougher than your average sneak-around.

The wooden shack was held up on old pegs underneath the weak porch in a large oval clearing. Tall pines overshadowed the cabin in outstanding waves of darkness.

The last time I was here, many had come and gone. They would get off their horses and drag themselves in with all different kinds of things; fresh fruit, rope, and clothes mostly. I never went in, now before you call me a coward, I'm not. I'm just on the safe side. The last thing I needed was a bunch of people, men specifically, coming after me for capture.

The large men, however, went in with rolls of fresh spices and herbs and came out with bundles of warm fur hides. My first conclusion; the shack was a trading center of sorts, which would be a very useful tool on the ground.

Currently, I spied from above as I watched the men drink their flasks dry while they loaded up their horses.

Once they were gone, I lowered myself down from the tree I was hiding in. I put on my finger-bone mask and stretched my hood over my hair, leaving nothing but my eyes exposed. I opened the door, put on my best faceless, more like eyeless, expression, and walked in.

Around the shack were all different kinds of goods; big round hooks, weapons, clothes, and even baskets of fresh fruit laid out on the countertop near a tall blonde woman standing at the center.

"Yu don kofon ga au?"

What. The. Fuck.

This whole time they spoke another language?!

Fuck! I thought. I was upset that I didn't think about this concept earlier, it was a perfectly plausible part of human evolution given the whole 'last people on earth for 97 year bit'. Just keep calm, don't show emotion, I told myself.

As I maintained eye contact, I rummaged through my pocket, pulled out the pouch, and placed it on the counter. She eyed the pouch before looking back at me as she slowly grabbed and rummaged through it. She grinned lightheartedly as she took a few in hand, examining their worth. She placed them back in the pouch before setting them aside.

"Yu gada teik thri." She spoke, pointing over to a small corner with thin bundled ropes, arrowheads, and feathers.

Her words sounded a lot like broken or muffled English, which was a good favor on my part. It would make it easier to learn.

Without breaking the silence. I walked as casually as possible over to the corner and thumbed over all the goods she harbored on the shelves.

Above it, was one of the prettiest weapons I had ever laid eyes upon. It was big, beautiful, and shiny, but more importantly, it was sharp, not even rusted with blood, or dulled down from the use of its enemies. I was positive that if I laid the lightest touch on it, my entire finger would be gone in an instant. I adored the hilt attached to its metal counterpart. It was beautifully crafted, with small symbols carved carefully into the woodwork of the shaft.