Dark Earth: Nocturne (I)

CHAPTER 2: Ren

The cabin's downstairs interior was as one would expect of a small-time hunter's home: a 2x2 square meter fireplace with an iron cooking pot, a fancy bear's pelt carpet that Layne had tanned and spread out himself, and two mahogany couches with burgundy silk cushions on either side of the aforementioned carpet; there were two rectangular, orange tinted windows on either end of the room; another sat directly above the fireplace. A quilted carpet led from the main door to a stairway on the right, which led upstairs to a bathroom, a bedroom, and a large storage closet.

Ren kicked off her boots and left them knocked over lazily on the floor, sitting down on the flame-warmed carpet a meter in front of the fireplace; she threw the bone of her now-finished lamb pop into it, watching it slowly burn to ashes. "There are two chairs on either side of you," Layne informed her sardonically, picking up both of her boots and placing them side-by-side next to the doorway, "Either one of them would make a far more comfortable seat than the floor." He removed his own boots and set them down next to hers; pulling off the carrying strap, he placed his crossbow on a wall rack built into the door itself. Ren kept silent, pulling down her hood, which freed her medium-length hair, and stared into the fire blankly.

"I'm going to start making dinner now." Layne said, assuming that Ren was at least somewhat paying attention to his words; he walked over to the fireplace, opened the pot and slowly poured a bucketful of water, which began to boil almost immediately. He walked over to a small kitchen and dining area tucked neatly towards the left window side of the cabin, grabbing a bottle of zesty seasoning from the spice cabinet; he moved back to the cooking pot and poured in a small amount, then placed it back into the cabinet and grabbed a steak knife, chopping the venison into bite sized chunks on a cutting board. Bringing the cutting board over to the pot, he used the knife to slide the meat cubes in, placing the lid on top to let them bath in the now-liquified marinade.

         "There we go," Layne finalized, looking over at Ren — who was still fixated on the dancing flames before her, "Now we just need to wait five minutes."

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        Another four minutes had passed until Ren finally spoke: "I'm not exactly going to stay here, you know," she declared, finally turning her head to make eye contact with Layne, "Once I'm done eating, I'm probably just going to leave."

        "That's fine," he replied, sitting down next to her, "But that doesn't mean we can't have a decent conversation during mealtime." She raised an eyebrow and looked at him as if he were asking a lot from her.

"You're pushing it."

He mimicked her expression, much like when they had first met earlier in the evening, "Am I now?"

It was then that the venison had finished cooking, within moments, Layne had prepared a stew with both the meat and a handful of vegetables that he'd cooked early in the morning. He handed a full bowl and a spoon to Ren, which she grabbed unhesitatingly and immediately, but carefully, began to scoff it down. Despite taking twenty minutes in total to prepare, the stew was gone within less than three minutes; Layne took the dishes and left them in the sink, quickly pouring himself a bowl and rejoining Ren by the fire.

        Looking at her, Layne could tell that she had at least some experience with more than one hobby, whereas he was only somewhat decent at hunting, and only on occasion was he successful in bringing home a kill. "What are your talents?" he asked, scooting closer to her; Ren looked at him with a mix of apathy and disinterest, but enlightened him anyway: "Like I told you before, my mother was a priestess, whom taught me how to create and properly utilize medicine; my father is a warrior, it was him who'd taught me both how to hunt and how to fight."