Nope, no and nada

So, I will not be helping butcher rabbits. It's Sue's first time and she thinks it will be hard on her and her family, so she'd rather do it alone. I don't blame her.

And I also still don't know what should be my mascot. And I think this "sign from the universe" is taking too long. What about an albino raven for a "mascot"? White Raven Farm. It works for many reasons. Ravens are the sign of death and white is the color of life -- at least in western culture and folklore. And farms are both places of life and death, and so on. So it works. I may change some things if I do get a sign from the universe, but I think a white raven is pretty darn good for a "mascot". I need a word better then mascot. A white raven is pretty darn good for a representation of a farm. No? Hmph.

In other news, I've been slowly "working" on this horse book. To be honest, though, I'm not making much progress. I'll try and get more done sometime. Along with the next chapter of TOSoS.

-willow

The Other Side of Shrae: Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

Talli woke the next day as the first light of dawn appeared on the horizon. Realizing rather belatedly that nothing had tried to kill them all in the night, she smiled, relieved. Being the first one awake, she walked over to the ashes of last night’s fire, adding more twigs and grass and blowing on the few exposed embers to try and get it going again. After a few minutes, the smoking mess of dried grass and sticks burst into flame, and Talli clapped her hands together excitedly, happy for the warm rays of sunshine and the bright glow of the fire. Looking over to the Wolfcoon’s carcass, she wondered what she ought to do with it. It’d rot soon, wouldn’t it?

Pulling out a knife and grimacing, she looked over the huge corpse. How would she skin and butcher it? Would the meat still be good? She shook her head. She had little experience dressing anything other than the occasional fish that she caught. Tugging at the fur, she pulled the carcass over so she could easily slice it’s belly open and remove the guts.

“Hmmm…” she muttered. Didn’t actual butchers hang the carcass? She glanced up at the forest and the steep, eroded hill leading up to it. The trees closer to the beach were less tightly packed, so perhaps she could hang the creature up there. She would need some rope and probably some help. Becka was a cook, did she know how to butcher animals? Ashelea might know… she joined the expedition because she wanted to document new species. And instead we’re eating them… she thought gravely. No, first things first. She’d get this thing tied up by it’s back paws, hanging from a tree, and then ask Becka if the meat was any good. And then maybe get help from Briar or Ashelea to skin, gut and butcher it. Taking the last spare scraps of rope, she tied – using her superior knowledge of knots – the Wolfcoon’s paws up and then, with a lot of sweating and swearing, managed to get the carcass off of the ground, at a good height so it would be easy to skin and gut, but not covered in sand by the end of everything.

“There.” Talli said, panting and puffing, turning and walking back over towards the camp, marked by it’s barely-burning fire which needed feeding, and the ‘fail-proof’ protection system of a few sharpened sticks stuck into the ground.

Ashelea was up, yawning and rubbing her eyes, throwing a few more twigs on the fire, by the time Talli was there to wake her.

“Oh… I didn’t notice you weren’t here…” Ashelea said tiredly. “Good morning.”

“’Morning.” Talli said, looking around impatiently. “Is Becka up yet?”

“No, why?”

Talli’s stomach grumbled and she said, “That Wolfcoon thing’s up in that tree over there, waiting for a more experienced butcher than me to deal with it.”

“I don’t know… but two heads is better than one, anyway, right?”

“I suppose.”

They said nothing for a moment, Talli standing and looking into the fire and glancing around occasionally, Ashelea sittng and feeding twigs and bits of grass into the blaze.

Then, as the sun started to rise even higher in the sky, the others started to wake, including Becka.

“Hey,” Talli said, seeing as everyone was awake, “Anyone know how to butcher that thing we caught?”

Dylan didn’t say anything, Briar shrugged, and Robert just shook his head.

“I’m not very experienced, but if you’re asking for my help, I can try.” Becka said with a slight smile.

Talli felt sort of awkward and sort of relieved that Becka had seen through her indirect ask for her help. But, she tried to convince herself, the others might have had experience butchering something , and so it would be good to ask everyone. She was convinced.

“Well, then, where do we start?” She asked.

“Uhh…” Becka said uncertainly, “Skin it and gut it, I suppose?”

Talli nodded, slowly, staring off into space and thinking.

“Alright then,” She said, snapping out of her mind and into the present. “You have anything that could pass as a skinning knife?” She asked then, turning to Becka.

“Er… well I have a few knives for different things cooking-related,” She said, “But I dunno about a skinning knife…” She looked thoughtful, “Hmm… I have a vegetable knife that’s kinda similar to a skinning knife. Hrm.” She muttered, looking around the campfire where any knives that had survived were.

“Well, I suppose we could try it,” Talli pondered, “And if it doesn’t work see if any of your other knives will.”

This time it was Becka’s turn to nod her head slowly while lost in thought. “Okay. Where’s the carcass?”

“Up there, hanging from that tree.” Talli said, pointing up to the shore, “You think the meat will be okay?” She added.

“Oouf. I dunno. Should be. Not that we are trying to be – but if we were going to play it safe, I’d say it’s still probably good. It’s not out of the possibility for it to be spoiled, but I think we should be good.”

Talli grinned, “Perfect! I hope for the next few days we’ll be able to feast like kings.”

Cheered on by that thought, she led Becka up towards the tree where the Wolfcoon’s carcass was still hanging forlornly, and they speculated on how to go about gutting, skinning and, most importantly, eating it.

Fingers Crossed

My computer is being slow and glitch-y again. I scanned and no viruses, and my last hope is that it's the just the heat up here, and if I don't run the computer too long or take it downstairs into the basement (which is wonderfully cool), it will work.

I've got my fingers crossed.

However, as frustrating as a computer that keeps freezing up is, It's nice to spend a morning outside picking zucchini and snap peas and letting a few of the chickens out to graze and eat worms. We've also got an experiment going that involves some planks of wood in the chicken coop, lots of water, and hopefully we'll end up with some free chicken food in the form of worms, centipedes and earwigs that have chosen to hide underneath said wood planks.

In less happy news, Sybil lost another half of a toe. She had half a toe go missing in late winter, and we assumed it was frostbite or something that she'd lost it to. But now I'm worried that it could be a fungus. Or something else? I don't know, and even though Sybil's the tyrant, hen-pecking, nasty, KRRRKKBURRRKKK KKRRHSHHHHH BAKBAKBAKKKKKKKK complainer, it'd still be sad to have to cull her (even for her own and the rest of the flock's good). And plus, we have a neighbor who loves chickens, and Sybil is her favorite of the bunch.

Hopefully there's something we can do to help her.

As far as writing and such, I've been making some progress, though not as much with the horse book -- I've been having more luck with the chicken story so far. And I've gotten closer to finishing this chapter of The Other Side of Shrae, so I'll hopefully be able to post that soon.

-wil'

So there.

You know why I like writing?

Two reasons:
One, it's really amazing and fun to create a world in your head and bring it to life (and while you're writing about scenes and stuff, it sometimes feels like your really where wherever you're writing about), and two, because, at least with my style of writing, it's fun and challenging. I make up a plotline, I know what needs to happen next, but it's not as if every scene is plotted out and I'm just filling in the boring:

"so and so yawned, bored with writing this book. 'blah blah blah blah.' he said and looked around sullenly, watching the word processing program and listening to the hum of the computer. 'why are you writing this?' he asked, 'it's just boring stuff and it's not fun.' then he yawned again, and continued with his previous train of thought. 'blah blah blah blah'"

It's more like, you know, making things up as you go. Characters and their personalities change sometimes, and while you're writing you're always thinking of the next scene. I guess when you plan everything out it's still kinda like that, but more like you're thinking of the next word. It's hard to explain, but it's really fun and never gets old, juggling the writing and the planning and doing it all in the same instant. And it's also nice to be able to type as fast as you can think, so you don't forget anything.

I, personally, write because of that. Some people write as a job, some as a hobby. I'd say, for me, writing books is a hobby I'd like to someday get some money from. For others, it's a job that's kind of fun sometimes. Or maybe always. I'm not one of those people, so I don't know.

But, still, sometimes I think of the Erins, or any other writing team. For me, I write because writing is fun. But I still wonder, when you're writing because a publisher asked you to, is it even fun?

"...the storyline for a new book includes details of what happens in every single scene, plus some suggestions for dialogue and character development..." -from the warriors forum answers from erin thread

Now, this doesn't sound too bad, to be fair, but I just don't think I'd like writing like that. After poking around on the internet some, I found Tui (one of the Erins)'s website. Man, she's written and co-written a lot of books. I admire people who can write and write and write and write and write thousands and thousands of books quickly, but this quote stood out:

"...Plus if it does well, they might let me write a sequel!"

That does not sound fun. If I like writing it, I'll write a sequel, not if people like or don't like reading it. Some people's writing is more like a job then a hobby or something just for fun. I accept that. I just never, ever want writing to be anything that isn't fun to write.

I would rather my writing for fun and hoping my book gets published, then be writing for a publisher and hoping my book is fun.

Yep. And now you know my opinion on writing. There is no real point to this post other then that. But I'm not deleting or re-writing this post to make more sense. So there.

(note: this might be a case of the pot calling the kettle black, seeing as i'm writing about horses only because my friends like horses... but that seems different. i'm also writing about horses because they sound like cool creatures to write about, and i'm not going to write any more than one, short story if i don't like writing about them. if i do... then i'll write as many books about horses as i damn well please, thank you. there. i justified myself. you are free to continue doing whatever you were doing.)

Rabbits, Sparrows, Dogs and Horses.

Today I woke up at dawn. And got out of bed at about 7. And then went out to the backyard with my dad. And raked out all of the gross, old greens the chickens hadn't eaten. And put them in the compost. And harvested zucchini. Three. And then I harvested some peas. Lots. Snap peas and Snow peas. Then I went out front to pick raspberries. But before I could finish, it was time to let Ranger (the dog we've been sitting) out of his crate and into his backyard. Then we decided to take him on a walk on the schoolyard, seeing as it was still nice and cool out. I managed to get out the door, rather then be pulled out, and so I was more or less injury-free. We walked him, and as we were going in, my mom told us Zen had caught a baby bird. I put ranger in, and we tried to figure out which sparrow nest the fledgling had fallen out of. We're still not sure if it was the right one. Then I finished picking raspberries as fast as possible, and I must've missed some (that or they're just starting to slow down), because I got only half a pound! Gasp!

And now, of course, I'm writing this blog post. I've been meaning to write a blog post for a while now. A lot's been happening -- and I suppose that's one of the reasons I haven't had time to write a post.

Anyway, all's well here, if you're worried. But I am making progress on many things. My schedule is getting back to normal (having to let the neighbor's dog out at 9 or so is helping), and I'm not sleeping in til noon. It's nice. I like being up early. Around dawn everything is just so nice. I've also been making progress on at least some of my writing projects, while others are going... slowly. *coughtheothersideofshraecough*. I'll post up the next chapter someday. Really.

I am making progress with a few other ideas, though, mainly that horse book that I've been talking about writing for forever. I'm also working on a chicken world/society, but I don't like it at the moment so I think I'll start over. I'm working on character designs. Lucky for me there are so many different breeds and colors of horse -- as well as words to describe them. I think this story might be just a short, one-book thing, but even so... it's going to be a lot of work. I still need a plotline, world map, and then of course the horse culture, and whatever else. Sometimes you just get ideas quickly, sometimes things take longer. I have a lot of work to do on this.

Ah, but the most exciting news: I will (if plans don't change) be helping a friend, Sue, butcher her meat rabbits. I don't know if I will be able to do much, but I'll try, and see if I can stomach it. Be better to find out before I go and buy houses and food and breeding stock then after I do. And maybe we can try some rabbit, too, and see how it tastes. You also have to like eating rabbit if you're going to raise them to eat. Duh.

So that's what's happening. I still don't have a name for my non-existent farm. I figure I'll wait for a sign from the universe, since I don't have any ideas anyway.

Now I need to eat some actual breakfast. I've been up for 2 hours and I haven't gotten anything to eat except a few raspberries.

-Willow

Live updates from the stormfront.

The radar says hail and maybe even severe hail. Everyone's either outside attempting to cover the crops (I think they're insane), refreshing the NEXRAD radar map like crazy, or blogging about it all while eating greek yogurt. I'm a bit lazy compared to the rest.

But some exciting things DID happen today. Zen caught 2 young mice, and me and my dad ripped out some of the weeds in the sideyard (we think they were providing cover for the mice to move around unseen, but now I'm thinking it might just have been cover for Zen. oops.). I also really want to farm. As I've said before. But I think the next thing I want to do is get meat rabbits. I don't know if I could kill them (or even see them killed), and I'm not sure if I like rabbit meat as much as, say, chicken, and it probably is just as easy to raise chickens as rabbits. (Although since I have a bit of a softspot for chickens, it might be hard to see them go.) Anyway, I'll figure out if I can find some rabbit to try, and then maybe help butcher some, if Sue hasn't killed hers already. I want to do this but I'm extremely nervous at the same time. So many unknowns. And the only way to know if I like rabbit meat is to eat rabbit meat, and the only way to know if I could kill or butcher or even take a rabbit to the butcher is to try. So I'll try. As hard as I can. Maybe someday I will know those unknowns, even if the answers are not ideal.

Oh, also, my grandma who lives in Iowa is here for the night. And tomorrow cousin Jay will be flying in from new york to stay here with us.

Expect more blog posts. I have a lot of ideas. And it sounds like with the company, life might get a lot more exciting as well.

And by the way, the worst of the storm's past. We're not going to get hail it seems. Hooray!
-Willow

The sad truth.

Picture this book:

An intelligent group of ____s roams the forest, hunting, gathering, and foraging. They have a ranking system, a town-like gatheringplace; complete with roosts to sit on, dens and nests to raise and hatch their young (with broodmothers keeping the eggs from getting too cold) and a team of foragers not only working to feed themselves, but also to feed the oldest, sickest and weakest of the ____. They have a code of honor and try to keep the peace between the other ____s, while still staying hidden from humans, and sometimes this can be a challenge -- especially since dogs and cats aren't the only predators that hunt them.

Now fill in the blanks:

An intelligent group of dragons roam the forest, hunting, gathering, and foraging. They have a ranking system, a town-like gatheringplace; complete with roosts to sit on, dens and nests to raise and hatch their young (with broodmothers keeping the eggs from getting too cold) and a team of foragers not only working to feed themselves, but also to feed the oldest, sickest and weakest of the clan. They have a code of honor and try to keep the peace between the other clans, while still staying hidden from humans, and sometimes this can be a challenge -- especially since dogs and cats aren't the only predators that hunt them.

Wh-- what is this?! That's not right! No, no, no!

It's supposed to be:

An intelligent group of chickens roams the forest, hunting, gathering, and foraging. They have a ranking system, a town-like gatheringplace; complete with roosts to sit on, dens and nests to raise and hatch their young (with broodmothers keeping the eggs from getting too cold) and a team of foragers not only working to feed themselves, but also to feed the oldest, sickest and weakest of the flock. They have a code of honor and try to keep the peace between the other flocks, while still staying hidden from humans, and sometimes this can be a challenge -- especially since dogs and cats aren't the only predators that hunt them.

Of course, which sounds awesomer? The former. That, my friends is the sad, sad truth. I still want to write about the latter, though. Maybe. I have to say... the former is kind of appealing... people would like it more...

No, no, no. Chickens would beat those stupid lizard things asses any day.

But I bet people would rather buy a book about dragons than chickens...

Nope. No. Don't even think about it. Nope. No. Not at all. Well... maybe... No.

The Other Side of Shrae: Chapter Five

Chapter Six

“Look at what you found this time…” Becka said, watching the small party dragging the giant wolf-raccoon-creature onto the beach.

“Well, I suppose it might make a good stew.” She added, looking thoughtful. “Here, have some fish, all of you. What did you bring back aside from this… wolf… thing…”

“I think we should call it a Wolfcoon” Robert cut in,

“O…. kay?” Becka said uncertainly. “Er, well, anyway, the fish is still a bit warm, and there are plenty of fruits to eat.

Talli shook her head, motioning to the dark, black waters and the first stars begging to twinkle in the sky, “No, we need to get some shelter up first thing. Eat, but quickly – me and Robert have eaten, so we’ll start building.”

“Aw come o--“ Robert protested, but Talli interrupted

“Look, you weren’t the one who had to drag a –“ she paused, trying to remember what Robert had called it, “—Wolfcoon through the forest for however long.”

Robert huffed, but picked up the bamboo and rope that Talli had piled together and got to work pounding posts into the ground and laying the still-damp sailcloth on top.

Once the others had finished eating, they joined in, and with some help they soon had five lean-tos constructed. The design was simple: two posts in the ground in front, and two shorter posts in the back. Then they strung rope and whatever stronger vines they could find between the posts and laid on top of them sailcloth and whatever leaves or scrap bamboo they could find. A handful of poor shelters at best, but still better than nothing.

“Alright, that’s enough building,” Talli said, getting up, painting and puffing.

“We still have extra bamboo,” Briar suggested hopefully, “I mean, I don’t really want to have to share a lean-to…” he added, muttering.

“Well, you’ll have to.” Talli said – snapped, nearly. Then she said again, more calmly, “The rest we’ll need for a fence of some sort. Some sort of barrier between us and the sea might do us good. Personally, I’m hoping these lobster-things are afraid of fire, but it’s nice to have a backup plan.” She added, trailing off at the last bit.

The moon was nearly in the middle of the sky by the time they’d driven the last of the bamboo into the sand to form a rough barrier.

“It’s not much,” Talli admitted, and Becka bit her tongue before she could say how it was probably less then not much. But it was good to have at least something between them and the black, foreboding sea, she acknowledged, with a small nod to herself.

“Better than nothing.” She said.

“Much better,” Ben agreed, leaving his place by the fire and huddling beneath one of the lean-tos, shivering. “I wish I had a blanket…” He muttered.

Talli sighed. She wished she did, too. She’d been wearing a fairly heavy coat to keep the bugs off when they’d first gone into the jungle, but she’d tried to find the coolest one possible. Something she regretted now.

“Alright, well, I’m going to bed. You all can figure out where you’re sleeping. I’m just too tired to worry right now.” Talli said, going over and lying down next to Ben, handing him her coat, “Here, you need it more – you’re injured.”

“Too tired to worry…” Becka repeated, giving in to sleepiness and yawning. “Too tired to worry.”

Possibilities...

Alright, I've made up some new designs. Most of which suck.

Anyway...

The Rastoor. I kinda like it. But Rabbit Feather Farm is not going to work.

The Catadile. I'm not very serious about this one. Catadile Farm? That's totally ridicu-- actually, that's not bad. Hmm...

The Beaglefox. I dunno, the design I kinda like and I kinda don't. But Beaglefox Farm sounds like some kennel or something. So I'll have to find a different name, at least, if not a different design for a mascot.

This is ugly. Part of it must be the drawing, but I still don't think the Badgersnake is going to be anyone's mascot. Badgersnake Farm sounds nice enough, though.

And last but not least, the... hrmm.. Peawolf? Wolffowl? Wolf-- ew, no. This is actually one of my favorites; he's kinda tied with the Rastoor at the moment. A mix of wolf and peacock. Wolf Fowl Farm. Not bad, not bad...

Well, I still don't know. But I think I'm getting closer.

What about Coonskull Farm?
I don't know.
:c

Nope, nope, nope...

I've changed my mind. Harefeather or Rabbit Feather Farm is a nice name but... I wouldn't want it to be the name of my currently-imaginary farm.

Back to the drawing board.

I might keep my chicken-butted-rabbit, though.

Rabbit Feather Farm

Rabbit Feather Farm... got a nice ring to it, eh?

Alright, let me explain.
I've been thinking that I should have a sort of "mascot", I guess. And just earlier this night, I came up with what I think will be the perfect mascot. 75% Rabbit and 25% chicken... I present to you... THE ROOBIT. Or Chrabbot. Or Rastoor. I'm still kinda eh on it, but I think it's a start. I may play around with designs more. I was quite inspired by Jenna and her wolf with antlers, and I liked the fact that it was symbolic and meaninful to her as well as being her sort of mascot. I don't like the word mascot. Too sports-y. Anyway, I liked the symbolic-ness of her wolf with antlers, and I started tossing around ideas and sketching pages and pages of doodles and concepts. And I came up with the Rastoor, or perhaps the chicken-butted-rabbit? Not that it's very symbolic seeming, but I'm sure I could figure out someway it would be. I also figured I needed a name in case I was ever going to start really, seriously, farming. A name for my "farm". Rabbit Feather Farm. Not quite there though... Rabbit Feather Farms is better, but I don't think I'll be having more than one farm, if any, thank you. Rabbit Quill Farm... Rabbit Down Farm... Rabbit... what? Hmmm... I think I've been reading too much Coldantler Farm and it's getting to my head (I've been re-reading it from the start e.e). I'll try and see if I can come up with any other designs or names in the morning. I've stayed up too late again and my eyes are drooping.

In other news, we harvested 1 3/4 pounds of raspberries today -- and the berries in the back yard haven't even started to turn pink! I ate about half the bowl for breakfast. The rest was frozen; save for the way-too-mushy and squashed ones -- which were happily eaten.


Also, the freezer door won't close properly. Which is a problem. A very big problem.

Freezer doors aside, today was a good day. Breakfast was raspberries, lunch was random snacking on things (cornflakes mostly), and dinner was shiskabobs (zucchini, onions and scallion from the garden, grass-fed beef from a lady out in greely?, I think, and store-bought red peppers). The sunset was also nice. The clouds were mostly blue-greys and dull purples, but the undersides of some were stained bright violet as the sun sank lower and lower, past the mountains and into night.

Whoops, sorry, got a bit poetic there -- something I reserve for my fictional writing, where I'm trying to sound all stoic and writer-y. Ah well.

Rabbit Feather Farm... hmm... I'll have to think of a better name for that. Chicken-tail Farm? Hare-tail Farm? Rabbit-tail farm? Harefeather farm... oooh, that's a possibility. Rabbitplume. I like having the rabbit in there somewhere... Rabbit... Rabbit... urf. I dunno.

I should really go to bed now.

Farmers are like Zombies

Farmers and homesteaders are a lot like Zombies. If you start reading a blog about farming or you go help your neighbor plant some lettuce you're bound to find yourself starting to grow stuff, or wanting to raise chickens or rabbits or ducks or geese or some other critter. And, worst of all, you don't notice you've become a farmer until you look at your small flock of chickens and your beds of potatoes and tomatoes and spinach. You won't notice until you start looking for more land and scolding people for buying store eggs. And the more farmers there are, the more rapidly they spread. Exponential growth.

It's a Zombie Apocalypse.

Farmstand

(Click to enlarge)

"Farmstand"
Painted digitally in gimp with a tablet. One layer
Time: 2 - 1 ½ hours.

This art is mine. Please do not use it without permission.

The Other Side of Shrae: Chapter Four

Chapter Four

The fish they’d caught sat sizzling on a spit over their new fire when Ben woke up.

“Over here!” Robert yelled, “and bring some food!”

Becka ran over, the others following, bringing some of the fruit they’d picked to Ben.

“Here, eat.” She told the young boy, handing him the food.

He took it graciously, eating and drinking and then gingerly sitting up.

“What happened?” Ashelea asked, nervously,

“I- I don’t know.” He started, “Me and the others were unloading supplies, when all the sudden you hear this great hissing roar. These two giant…” he paused, searching for a word, “things came out of the water. They looked like… like giant lobsters or crayfish-creatures. They kept snapping their claws as we tried to fight them back. Captain Seilrite started trying to fight them off, slashing at them with his sword – but all they did was snap it with one blow from their claws. I was more focused on getting out of the way and not getting killed then what other creatures might be in the water, but I could see something big, and dark blue-grey, I think, out underneath the water. But while I was distracted, one of those creatures grabbed my arm and wrenched it back, and then the next thing I know, I’m here.” Ben finished, taking in a deep breath. Then, after a pause, “A-are the others… you know… dead?” He asked quitely.

Talli sighed, “Yes. I don’t know what happened to them, but half of the crew were just missing – not even a body left.” Talli patted him on the shoulder, sitting down beside him and doing her best to comfort him, “You’re lucky you survived. And now we have to get off this island.”

Standing up, thinking as fast as she could, Talli started to form a plan. “Okay, we have to do this quickly. The sun’s nearly set and we don’t have shelter. Dylan, Ashelea and Briar, you go out with machetes and cut down as much bamboo as you can find – and carry -- in that forest. Get some vines also. Becka, you tend to the fish, which must be well-cooked by now, and try and get a meal together enough for all…” Talli paused, counting heads, “…Seven of us. Robert, you see if there’s anything more you can do to help Ben, and if not, perhaps check again for any supplies that have drifted back to shore.” Talli said. “But be careful!” She added.

Most of the survivors had a mixture of doubt and hope in their eyes, but Dylan looked only afraid and angry.

“Why? What good are bamboo and vines going to be against huge lobster-things, Firecrow?! And why, all of the sudden, are you the leader? Why, pirate?”

Talli winced at that last remark, but chose to ignore it -- it didn’t matter. Though she was curious how he’d heard of that… but, no, it didn’t matter. She’d answer his questions, not ask ones that were meaningless. “Would you rather sleep on the sand tonight? Because to me, bamboo and vines don’t seem that worthless. If anything, we’ll be able to make some windbreaks and at least a platform to sleep on, maybe even a hammock if we have enough salvaged cloth. Do you want to die? To get eaten by whatever took the rest of the crew? Be my guest, if that is the case. And why am I the leader? Because we have to have one. And none else has stood up and tried to organize everyone. If we want to survive, we need to be organized and not afraid.” Talli said, rather proud of her own little speech.

Dylan glared at her, gritting his teeth, but turned and followed Ashelea and Briar up the beach to the forest, swinging his machete frustratedly.

“Oh, and any food you find is good, and much needed!” Talli added after them, everything starting to get dimmer and dimmer as the sun disappeared more and more behind the orange-stained waves all around.

“Here,” Robert said, showing Talli a handful of tangled rope and some large, torn up scraps of sail. “I’d hate to think whatever could’ve torn up sailcloth and sheared through wood and rope like a knife through butter, but at least there’s some supplies left.”

“Good, good.” Talli said, looking over what he’d gathered. “Let the cloth dry out —no, no, just lay it on the sand somewhere out of the way. Yes. The rope we’ll keep, and I expect it’ll be quite useful.”

“Dinner’s ready!” Becka yelled, and the thought of food made Talli’s stomach growl and she realized just how hungry she’d been.

Ben was already over by the fire, warming up and nibbling on some fruit and the bit of fish Becka’d given him.

“There’s not much to spare, with all seven of us hungry and only one small fish to eat, but I figure we can all have a small dinner – if you like fruit a lot, at least.” Becka said, handing Talli and Robert both a sliver of fish to eat. “Careful, it’s hot, and I don’t have any plates to put food on, at the moment.” Becka warned, as Talli tossed her share of fish from hand to hand.

“Quite… hot…” Talli said, still juggling the fish, while Robert just gulped it down, still hot.

“The others better be back soon…” Ben said, looking over toward the place in the forest they’d just disappeared into.

Then, just as he said that, Talli heard the chatter and screech of some creature in the forest.

“Oh no!” Talli said, gulping down her piece of fish and running over towards the forest, dreading what she’d see.