Mark looked into the forest; he could feel it again. She was close. He couldn’t see her, but he knew she was watching him. Morning light filtered through the trees. The meeting yesterday had stayed with him. Determined not to let it slow him down, he brought up his map to review the zone. The area to the northeast had expanded, with more of it no longer shaded out. Most of the zone was still unexplored.
The map barely showed that he had reached the dense grove. Reviewing the POIs on the map, his eyes stopped on the clay pit. He still had a mess there that he needed to clean up. After the fight with the rootback, he had left the pit and all the other things just lying around. His control came from how well he took care of his area, and he had left a mess, and it was time to clean up.
With his mind made up, he headed into the forest toward the clay pit. As he traveled, he continued to watch the forest. When he passed traps, he checked them and reset them as needed and even looted a few kills along the way. When he arrived at the pit, it was still the same mess he had left. Broken spears and smashed and mangled tree limbs. Mark started by dismantling the trap. He pulled apart the deadfall, setting the log to the side.
He cleared the broken branches from the hole, then cut back the brush and small trees surrounding it. One side contained clay while the other did not, so he broke down part of the wall and shaped a crude ramp into the pit. It took work, but when he finished, the clay was easier to reach and he no longer needed the ladder to climb in and out.
Mark pulled a chunk of clay free and rolled it between his fingers, but it crumbled instead of holding its shape. He tossed that piece aside and pulled another chunk. This one was moister, maybe? Doing the same test with the second sample, it held its shape better. He had tested a few more samples when he heard a branch snap. Turning around, he saw that she was there outside the pit just watching him. She was not trying to hide this time. Mark wondered how long she had been watching him. She looked nervous, but neither of them said anything.
They both stayed there, watching each other, neither one trying to move. It felt like she was trying to decide something. Mark turned back around and picked up another hunk of clay. Hearing something, he glanced back. He caught a glimpse of her back as she moved away. Her movements were like those of a cat on the prowl. Mark, this time, just watched as she carefully walked into the woods. She had just been there watching how he worked. Not just watching, but learning from him.
He waited to see if she would return. When he decided she was gone, he returned to his clay. He had found that there were roughly three varieties of clay. The moisture levels were different. He gathered enough to make a few projects. This would work, not perfect but workable for his needs. Walking out of the pit, he again looked around the area. He felt that he had improved it. It was now easier to access and clear of debris. He picked up and stored his ladder, as he no longer needed it here.
Looking at the shovel, he decided it would stay here at the pit. Making a few more shovels would be added to his to-do list. He decided that everything was in its place, and he headed back to camp. As he walked back, he thought about how she was still watching him. She did not seem to want to talk. Unsure where this was going to lead, he continued working on his next project.
Nothing had changed this time at camp. Mark grabbed his chair and sat down at his crafting bench. He pulled out the three separate types of clay and set them on the table. He started to play with them. His first test was that he made a bowl out of each of the three types. He found that one of the types did not work well at all; it could not hold its shape. Finally, he decided this one was not moist enough to mold.
He made one more bowl to match the two he had just made so that after he was finished he would have four of them. Walking over, he started the fire so that he could dry them. It was more than he needed, but it would be better to have extras if others came for dinner. With plenty of materials left over, he sat down and started crafting plates. Again he made four of them. He arranged them all around the fire and roasted the bowls to ensure they all had equal time to dry out. He knew it would not be as good as if he had a kiln to fire it, but it was the best he could do.
Next, he looked over at his water pouch and decided he needed mugs also and made four of them. He then added the mugs near the fire with his plates and bowls. After creating them, he received system messages about them but brushed them away without looking at them. When done, he would have four plates, bowls, and mugs. They were more than he needed for now, but as he looked out into the forest, he knew that she would be watching him and spying, paying attention to what he was doing.
The finished dishes needed somewhere safe to go. Mark made three more crude boxes, one for the dishes and two for whatever he gathered later. Each box came together better than the one before it, another small sign that his crafting was improving.
Once the pottery was drying, Mark began replacing his worn tools, starting with a new axe. As he worked on the axe, he noticed that she had arrived again. She was standing next to a tree near enough to watch but far enough away that she could still bolt if she wanted to.
Next up, he planned to make new knives. These he used often, and his old one was really dull and chipped now. A large crack ran along the edge from when he’d broken it trimming a branch. She seemed more interested in this project. He went slower, showing the steps but not being over-obvious about it. She watched as he set the first one down after rubbing his finger down the blade.
He then started on the next one. He noticed that each time she moved, it was not random but measured. She wasn’t drifting closer but was choosing where to stand, testing the distance and testing him. He noticed when she crossed the invisible line at the edge of his camp. He didn’t move, but he didn’t relax either. She seemed very interested in the process of how he made the knife. She watched intently as he used some of his small hide to wrap the handle.
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He then used some of the fiber string and bound it tight. He made sure that it held well. As she watched him work, the tension in her posture eased. It surprised him when she spoke. He had thought she would watch for a while and leave like before.
“You’re the one from before. How did you learn to make the knife?”
Mark turned slowly towards her. He held up the original knife. “I made this when I first got here. I gained a skill called Primitive Crafting. It helps me see what items could become. Today I am making a new version. I have learned a lot since the day I made this first one.”
She wasn’t asking out of curiosity; she was evaluating him. Watching how he answered. Not the words but the reasoning. A hint of a smile crossed her face. “My first skill was Movement.”
Mark said, “I wondered how you moved so smoothly.”
She said, “I have stayed safe by staying away from trouble.” She held up her spear. Well, okay, it was a stick with a pointy end. Mark could see the flaws in it. His crafting skill let him know how to improve it.
“I use this to kill the smaller animals. The bigger ones, I keep from seeing me. I saw your traps. Why there?” she asked.
He paused, not because he didn’t know, but because he wanted the right answer. “Traffic,” he said. “And sight lines.”
She didn’t respond right away, just nodding once; that was enough. “Sorry about taking the kill.”
Mark said, “It’s okay; thanks for the vegetables and herbs.”
She said, “It was the least I could do.” She looked at the tools and then at him, measuring him. She didn’t turn immediately. She paused and then looked back once, not for long. Just enough to confirm something, and then she was gone. Just before she left line of sight, he could hear her say it. “See you around.”
Mark then pulled out his bow, looking at how he could improve it. Stronger wood, better string. He did not yet have those materials; after one more look, he put them away. They would have to wait their turn for an upgrade. Next he pulled out the arrows; they were frayed. Tips broken or worn almost off. He could make a better version of these.
He found some new wood that was extremely straight. He split out pieces to make the shaft. Using his new knife, he smoothed out the shafts. Looking at the pile of odd items he had gathered, he found some bones and teeth. They would make good tips. He used his knife to sharpen them. Pulling out the feathers, he made his fletchings. He grabbed the best of his fiber string and lashed the tip and fletching to it. When he was finished, he received a system message.
[New Craft Discovered: Improved Bone Tip Arrows]
Mark had finally run out of projects he wanted to do. He again looked back to the forest. “You know, I forgot to ask your name. And where do you live?”
* * *
Mark was checking his trap line when he saw her in the trees. He had just repaired a trap with a trigger that was sticking instead of releasing properly. After trimming it with his knife, it worked the way he expected. She had watched the entire repair without saying anything.
Then she spoke softly. “I found some sharper rocks northwest of here.” Mark turned around to look at her. She was holding a knife not as well made as his, but it was serviceable. “The rocks there are sturdier than the ones you’re using.”
Mark said, “Thanks. I will check it out.”
She quickly turned and walked away. Mark paused to think about the information she had given him. He realized that earlier she had watched him too. She was learning from what he was doing. Like the vegetables before, she was making a trade in a way. Learn from watching him and pay by giving information. Mark thought over what that meant.
Pulling up his map, he looked north and saw the point of interest named Rocky Rise. Mark finished working on the trap and collected the fish trap and then headed north. He followed the stream on the map; it showed it was directly north. As Mark traveled, he made notes of the places he could add more fish traps in the stream.
Finally, the forest started to thin. He could see more rocks and less grass and vegetation. Far to the north he could see a rock face shooting up into the sky. Not a mountain but more of a bluff. The sound came first, not like the stream but louder and constant. As he moved closer, it grew until it drowned out all other noise, and that’s when he saw it. The water was spilling over the edge of the rock face, falling down and landing in a pool that was at the source of the stream he was following.
As he reached the pool at the bottom of the fall, he saw something. Darker cut into the rock near the base of the fall. It was not large but deep enough to notice. A cave of some sort. It was on the west side of the falls. He thought about exploring it but decided that he would wait for later for that. He added that to his ever-growing to-do list.
As he got closer to the cliff, he saw her again; she was working the rocks. Mark assumed she was hunting for something specific. The area was open and exposed. If something came from above, there would be no place to go. As he approached, he slowed and then stopped about twenty feet away from her.
Mark said, “The view here is amazing.” She did not respond at all. She just watched him. “My name is Mark.”
She said, “Hi Mark, you can call me Cora.” She turned and continued looking around the rocks; a few minutes later, she headed east. He watched her move until he lost sight of her.
Mark mumbled, “Well, at least I got her name.” Mark turned back to the rocks and looked them over. They were bigger here and more sturdy. Cora was right. These should make much better tools. Mark spent the next hour looking through the rocks that had broken off the rise and fallen below it. He found that these rocks were harder to split and crack, but when they did, the edges were sharper.
Mark took his time testing various rocks. He found that he could make sharp tips that would make great arrowheads. They were sharper and thinner than what he could make with the other rocks he had used. As he continued to hunt, he saw Cora approach again. She watched as he worked. After a short period of time, she picked up a couple of rocks and started working with them. Mark stopped what he was doing and watched her work.
He could see how she was working with the stones in a different manner than what he had been doing. It was much more efficient and had less waste. She seemed to know what she was doing. Mark nodded in appreciation of what she had shown him. He continued sorting through the rocks as she walked away. He now had another resource area, a rock pit. Well, maybe more of a rock wall, but that is how he would think of it.
When he finished storing stone for later crafting, Mark looked toward the falls. The rough rocks and cliff wall were a sharp contrast to the forest where he lived, but the area was beautiful. He thought about Cora. She watched and considered before acting, but when she made a decision, she was precise.
Mark headed slowly back toward camp, thinking about their differences and the skills each of them had gained while surviving here. Small game would not be enough forever. He needed to travel farther, find larger animals, and decide what his next steps would be.
He cooked some fish today and the last of the vegetables that Cora had given him. He thought about how she showed him a better way to make sharper rocks. She had been right. If she kept being right, he might have to start listening.