The Oubliette at Ak Min Tor

Part 3 Dog Eat Dog

I follow the water of my little stream on its path to the river.

Rocks and boulders try to block my way, and it's still hard to get around on baby-skin feet.

Sneaking and creeping ... always listening in case something wants to jump out and eat me.

There's a movement in the trees ahead. Have to hunker down and wait until it's safe.

Wish I had some more of that Ranger's bread. That stuff was really good, and it was moist.

Oh, and it was filled with magic ... the kind that gives you healing energy and healing strength.

Could sure use some more magic right now. Never was good at that stuff though.

We each have our talents, I guess. Mine was never with any of those physical or magic abilities.

I do numbers. That's what I was always good at ... numbers and books and percentages.

Even when I was writing those poems, it was always the numbers.

Number of syllables, and numbers of lines ... keeping within strict rules for prose.

What I really wish I could do, was be an adventurer ... like my mysterious benefactors.

Those guys just danced into a place that was unreachable, like it was a walk on the beach.

I'm fearing for my life just trying to sneak down to the beach.

The sun shines down on my skin and it feels good, but not a good idea to get too much of it.

I probably looked like some kind of emaciated ghost, with hanging rags and pale skin.

There are voices in the trees. I think it's a long way off, but it's hard to tell.

I knew where everything was in my little cell. I could tell the sound of a roach from a moth.

And I could tell where it was going, and what I had to do to catch it.

Roaches were much better than moths. No way to wash that powdery wing-stuff down.

I usually left the flutter bugs alone.

It was a lot farther to the river than I thought it would be. It looked so close from the opening.

I think the creek veered and meandered a little, and I went with it.

Water goes downhill, and the river was downhill ... it just didn't go very straight.

A squeal of pain and fear from a small pig. Something must have snatched one up for supper.

It's been a long time since I tasted pig ... wonder if I can get one.

I've seen their foraging sign all over the place. Not now ... not now.

I need to concentrate on getting away ... far away ... I need a village or a boat.

Something spooked a flock of birds ... noise of their wings and their cries was almost deafening.

They flew in circles until whatever scared them left their nesting spot again.

Always amazed me how everything eats everything else ... and then life just goes back again.

"Hey Thorn, have you seen Rimmik?" one person asks.

"Naw," Thorn says, "Rimmik was eaten by a bear last season ... remember?"

"Oh yeah," they say again. "Let's go grab a brew at the tavern." Like it was an everyday thing.