Iron Wasteland

Chapter 6

Morning came with the sound of Irons smacking his head against the rock above him, swearing loudly.

"Ow, fuck, goddamnit, why did I think this was a smart idea!?" Irons cried, rolling out from under the rock and rubbing his head.

"Well, good morning to you too, Irons." Providence said, standing.

Irons pulled himself to his feet, groaning as a small trickle of blood spilled down the front of his face. "That's gonna sting for a while...damn..."

Providence stared at him for a second, feeling another headache coming on. While she had seen him bleed before, that was only in the cave when it was dark, but now in the dawning sunlight she could see another question forming. The trickle that flowed down his face was a bright yellow color, like someone had cracked a highlighter over his face. He smeared his hand across the trail, realizing what it was with a groan, and flicking it to the ground.

"Irons...why is your blood yellow?" Providence sighed.

"...genetics?" He phrased it as a question, making the goddess's eye twitch.

"I-I just-no, no...whatever."

"Well, if ya got nothing else to add, we should get moving! Breakfast needs to be acquired, cause I realized at about midnight I didn't eat anything for dinner last night! That is not good!"

The duo continued, making their way through the stony valley. As they walked, Irons eventually pulled out his guitar from the night before, strumming a few notes. The goddess didn't recognize the tune, nor the hummed rhythm he made. If she had to guess, it was some peppy and upbeat song he was playing, judging by the bouncy steps he took as he marched along. He played for a surprisingly long time, shifting through several other songs of varying speeds and tones. She wondered if he actually remembered all the lyrics or not.

An hour or so later, he stopped. Providence gave him a strange look from behind, before the reason hit her. Her nose was assaulted by the acrid scent of blood, with a strange sweetness to it as well. She walked up next to Irons, examining his face. The sheriff was glancing around, nose twitching. His eyes locked on a distant part of rock, and with a smooth motion he stashed his guitar away and pulled out his revolver. Slowly he approached, Providence trailing behind him as she conjured fireballs behind her. It was an old trick she used to do, readying for an attack, and it seemed she could still do it. That brought a smile to her face. They reached the rock, the scent becoming stronger.

Irons took a breath, then stepped around the rock. Providence waited a second, then followed suit. Instead of a fresh corpse like Providence was expecting, they found another strange plant. This one was attached to the rock by a thick fibrous tendril, a massive red fruit hanging from it. A small, steady stream of blood-red liquid fell from the bottom of the plant, making a messy splatter on the ground beneath it. She turned away in disgust at the strange plant, which unfortunately sent her gaze over the now smiling Irons.

"Oh. My. God. There's one of these up here!?" Irons said excitedly. "This is perfect. This literally couldn't be better!"

Irons knelt down, pulling out an old, beat-up canteen from his shoulder cover. He unscrewed the cap, sticking it under the stream. Irons was practically giggling with glee at this discovery. Providence sighed, coming over and kneeling down next to him.

"Alright, new plant. What exactly is so special about this one? Besides being rather...bloody."

"Not too far off, with that comment there. 'S called a bloodbulb! These things usually grow underground and produce a liquid within these pouches here."