Degrees of Freedom: Chapter 3
Oct. 29th, 2007 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sickle_storiesI'm totally sucking at cutting this fic into chapters, and there's even more suckage at naming the fuckers. Sorry.
Chapter 3: Setting Things in Motion
Ringal stood peering at the humans in the compounds of the Deputy Slave Manager, glancing back and forth from his sketchbook to them. Something caught his eye and he motioned to the guard behind him without taking his eyes off the human that crouched in the back.
“That one,” he said to the guard, “the one sitting, with the necklace.”
The guard nodded and entered the cage, lightly swinging a stout wooden club with a loop of cord tied to one end. He shuffled past a number of humans, grimacing at the stench, until he reached the one Ringal had pointed out.
He prodded the human sharply in the arm. “Get up,” he commanded.
The human looked up wearily and hauled itself up. The guard placed the cord about its neck and pushed it up to the bars.
Ringal looked at the human critically, taking mental notes of its condition, approximate age and any defining marks. He peered at the necklace and, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, glanced back at his sketch. He looked back at the human’s necklace and reached towards it, intending to bring it closer. The human immediately lunged at Ringal’s hand as it passed the bars but was checked by the guard’s hold on the cord about its neck. The human made a choking sound and bared its teeth, but its hand fell back to its side. Ringal again reached for the necklace, slightly more anxious now.
Ringal knew from his hours of study that humans in the wild were not generally vicious and aggressive, as was told in the City. He was now, however, painfully aware of the fact that one should never provoke a human, particularly a wild one, when it was frustrated or cornered.
With the necklace in his hand, Ringal was able to examine the pattern of beads and ragged feathers more closely. A number of the beads were made from wood or seed-shells but one or two were made from a brightly-coloured stone. Ringal marveled at the smoothness and near-spherical shape of the beads and wondered if the human had actually made them. He did not recognize the work as apemade.
Ringal shook his head and waved the human away. Interesting though the necklace was, it did not have the fence-nails that some humans stole from the farmers. His only hope of identifying a member of Omega’s pack was finding another human with a necklace like hers, as the nails were not common decorations, due to the difficulty of finding them. As the guard lifted the cord off of the human’s neck, Ringal stopped him and made a note of the stone beads. They, too, were unusual, and might prove interesting to study.
“You might be able to purchase the necklace. If your interested, that is,” whispered the guard in a conspiratorial tone.
Ringal shook his head and turned to the next cage. His search for the necklace was interrupted by a heated argument coming from the entrance. As he was looking, a young female chimpanzee entered determinedly. A harassed-looking Limbo followed closely behind.
“Do be reasonable!”
“Reasonable? How can you ask me to be reasonable. Look!” The female pointed at one of the cages that held the human children. “These young have to be with their dams. Why must they be separated? Semos knows you’ll do so soon enough.”
“Well, Ari, that’s exactly why. Having them separate from their dams now make things easier in the long run.”
“Oh?” countered Ari testily.
“It’s easiest to compare the young when they’re all together – ”
“All you care about is your commerce!”
“Well, yes,” replied Limbo, seeing nothing wrong with the statement. “But also, though you probably didn’t know this, the other females would attack the young.” His tone turned falsely soft. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to expose these poor, helpless young to such a barrage of teeth, would you?”
Ari’s retort died on her lips as she looked at the children sitting on the earth and turned towards the cage containing the human females.
“I think the dam would protect – ”
“There’s no need for the dam to protect its young,” interrupted a soft voice. Ringal walked up towards them, hands clasped. “The human animal is generally very gentle with young ones, whether or not they are their own. I have seen members of different packs treat the other’s young kindly, though they are strangers. Even under great stress, such as a raid, any human will protect the young, even endangering its own safety for the young.” Realizing that he was lecturing, Ringal apologized for his interruption and introduced himself to Ari.
“Did you say you’d seen human packs?” said Ari.
“Yes. I study them, actually. It’s for my thesis.”
Ari looked at him curiously for a moment. Limbo shuffled nervously.
“Sorry to have troubled you, Limbo,” said Ari insincerely. Both knew that their discussion was not over. “Would you leave me to talk to this young scientist?”
***
Once Limbo had left, Ringal turned back to the cages and began his search again. Ari glanced curiously at his sketch and promptly asked him many questions about it. Ringal answered as best he could, not being an expert in human decorative habits but rather in their general behaviour. However, once Ari realized this, she was thrilled. She pressed him for data and, when Ringal made his intent to leave known, she followed him outside.
“I would love to know more about humans, Ringal. Could we perhaps continue this conversation some other time?”
“Well, I only meant to stay in the City for a few days. I really do want to try and find other humans with this kind of necklace,” said Ringal, gesturing to his notebook. Upon seeing Ari’s disappointment he quickly added “But that won’t take up all of my time. I would be interested in talking about humans with you. Few apes outside my field would find the conversation interesting, I must admit.”
“I’ve always been interested in them, but no one around me seems to share the interest.”
“I’m hardly surprised – ” began Ringal but stopped in horror, having just remembered exactly who he was talking to, and the kind of apes to whom she referred. “Oh, no, please forgive me. How rude of me,” he mumbled.
Ari simply smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m hardly surprised myself.”
After a bit more casual conversation, they agreed on a time and place for the next day and said their goodbyes.
***
Ringal sat by the bar in a smoky inn, drink in hand. There were a few people seated at the tables, eating a light meal and chatting amicably. He studied them one by one, wondering as he always did what kind of household each one ran. Those two by the window, he thought they might be business partners out for a drink, discussing the papers they had strewn all over the table. The group of four youths by the door seemed agitated enough, full of energy and, he noted, alcohol. He was studying the couple in a corner when the door opened and Ari walked in. The youths gaped for a moment and nudged each other with low guffaws. Ari ignored them and came towards the bar, glancing about her curiously as she sat down. Ringal stood, waving at the bartender.
“Semos bless, Ari of Sandar.”
“Hello, Ringal. Please, sit down, and do lets be informal. I loath formalities.”
“What’ll it be, miss?” said the bartender, a wiry and gray-haired gorilla.
“Berry-wine, please.” Ari turned to Ringal, leaning on the edge of the bar. “What is it exactly that you study in humans? You mentioned field studies…”
“Why yes, I’m very much in the field. And by field, of course, I mean the Sug. Not much of a field,” he joked lamely. Ari smiled slightly in response and encouraged him on with a nod. “I’m tracking a pack of humans, studying how the individuals interact and observing their behaviour. It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, but it must be! Hardly anyone studies humans, especially not in the wild. Why, apart from scientists like yourself, the most knowledgeable ape on humans would have to be Limbo. And that’s a terrible thing indeed.”
“Yes,” laughed Ringal, paying the bartender who’d arrived with the berry-wine. “Although he’s not always wrong. He takes acceptable care of them.”
“May I ask a personal question, Ringal?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you studying humans?”
“Well, I suppose it’s because I find them so curious, and we know so little about them. Oh, of course we know their physiology, but that’s hardly all there is to them. And the little else we know is, as I’ve said, often wrong. Why, everything I learnt on my mother’s knee, the folk tales and monster stories that kept me up at night, I can disprove them all today.”
“Indeed, ‘if you don’t eat your dinner, I’ll have you taken outside the gates’ used to be a favorite of my father’s.” Ari smiled, then remembered something and frowned deeply, lifting her fingers to her lips as she continued, “and then there’s Calima…”
Ringal avoided her glance by staring into his drink and was silent for a moment. When he next spoke, his voice was hardly a whisper. “And you’ll have to forgive me for this, some may call it blasphemy, but they are so very much like us.”
He felt Ari place her hand on his arm and smile softly at him. “That’s not blasphemy.”
They settled at the table by the window, where the businessapes had sat, and continued their conversation over a light meal.
“Are you familiar, Ringal, with the Human’s Rights Faction?” began Ari in a low voice.
“Vaguely, yes.” Ringal considered, then continued quietly: “I approve of them, if that’s what you want to know.”
“I thought as much. I’m involved in the group, very much so, though of course my father and practically every one else I know isn’t too keen on that.”
“To be expected, really,” commented Ringal.
“I’d like for you to join us.”
Ringal put down his fork slowly onto his plate and lifted his eyes to hers, his expression serious. “I’m sorry.”
“With your knowledge on humans we could–”
“I don’t think you understood, Ari,” Ringal interrupted, his voice lower, “I said I would not. I cannot.”
“How do you mean?”
“I have my thesis to finish.”
“But this wouldn’t take up much of your time,” she said, utterly confused by his rejection and his reasons.
“My work is very controversial. Many of my seniors were and still are against my fieldwork, some even trying to prevent my obtaining a permit to work outside the gates. Supporting your group would dry up my funds, which are few already, and seriously hamper my studies.”
“I could fund you. The Association would fund you.”
“My paper would never be accepted by the committee, nor published in any of the papers. I’m sorry Ari, but that would mean the end of my career even before it began.”
Ari looked heartbroken as she picked at the food on her plate. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d thought…”
“I hope you understand why I can’t.”
“Oh, yes, you’ve made yourself quite clear,” she responded bitterly.
Ringal sighed and looked out the window, wondering how he could support this cause without dragging himself into the mud.
“Alright,” he said softly, at which Ari looked up with a hopeful expression. “I’m not saying I’ll join and wear your ribbon, as they say, but I could still help.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ari, breathless with curiosity.
“You’ve got the leading expert on human behaviour on your side. I’m sure that’ll bolster you arguments.”
Her smile at his words was incredible and she reached across the table to grasp his hand tightly. “Oh thank you, Ringal. You’re star-sent.”
“Mind,” he added, withdrawing his hand slowly, “I’d appreciate anonymity.”
“Of course, not a word until you publish,” said Ari, understanding at once why any information divulged before his thesis defence had to be in complete confidence: the Association’s source of information would be too obvious and endanger Ringal. “But,” she added slyly, “could you tell me about your discoveries? I’m terribly curious.”
“Of course,” said Ringal warmly. “I’ll write to you.”
***
Ringal Matnick’s Notebook, Entry 269
Late Afternoon:
Over past days, young male 6 has attempted several times to come close to Omega, but each time the other females, by far the most aggressive towards Omega’s presence, have warned him away. Curiously, the few times that he’s been able to come close to her for a short while, while Omega has done nothing to discourage him, neither has she enticed him further. This lack of action on her part is strange: having a male ally would raise her up from the low status of outsider. Perhaps the other female’s presence prevents her from actively seeking out Indigo. Male’s number of attempts at contact diminish slightly though encounters are longer. Must keep eye on pair’s progress.
Ringal Matnick’s Notebook, Entry 272
Late Afternoon:
Quite some developments this morning. The raids have indeed incremented. Though the inquiries proved fruitless at the paddocks (see Entry 267 and 268) and none of Omega’s pack-members were found, am quite confident that the capture of her pack was the cause of her being a loner. The curious fact is that almost the entire pack was captured. Am sure this is the case as she has not shown signs of searching or calling for her pack members. Having dealt with the trappers before, am aware that the norm is to capture only a few prime specimens from each pack. In fact, the effort of capturing that many humans (in what must have been one single event) must have been great, requiring at least a large group of trappers and more-that-usual coordination between them.
Early this morning, little after the pack had begun to stir, found self in most bothersome situation. Pack under study was the goal of some trappers. The consequent events of chasing and, alas, capture of some specimens (as was revealed later), have wreaked havoc on the study. Not only did the hunt interrupt a most interesting and rare usage of plants for what appeared to be medicinal purposes and remove some members from the pack and, hence, from the study (the repercussions of which have yet to be assessed, though must admit the grieving-behaviour of the humans will prove interesting), but also other problems. The feeding area has been trampled beyond use. Had difficulty tracking the pack once the havoc was over and lost many hours. Abandoned tracks shortly after dusk; pack apparently still moving (most unusual behaviour) steadily west. Fear that they are abandoning their territory in the face of the raids.
***
Once they’d stopped running and Fren had managed to group them together once more, no one said a word. Everyone sat stood in a circle, some leaning on trees or each other. Mothers patted their children absently. They stood around Fren who was whispering the names of those he could not find. Some individuals sobbed quietly into their hands, none daring to make any loud sounds.
Eventually, once they had recovered from the shock, Fren lead them deeper into the forest. They walked quietly but steadily for a few hours, would rest for only as long as a stern Fren allowed, then moved on.
During one of the pauses Asha slunk away from the group searching among the undergrowth for a certain plant. She’d found some earlier, before they’d been chased, but hadn’t had time to collect any. She heard a hiss, followed by running footsteps, and turned to see one of the youths that had taunted her by Round Pool approaching. Asha gasped and tried to back away, but he gripped her arm, at the same time putting his finger to his lips.
“Fren’s orders. You can’t walk about alone, or far from the group now. ‘S not safe.”
“I was just looking for some saltooth. For wounds,” she whispered back.
The youth looked at her curiously for a moment, then nodded. “What’s it look like?”
Once the saltooth was found and collected the two returned in silence to the huddled tribe. Shaz, as Asha now knew him, immediately left her side and reunited with his brother Mart.
Asha sat down a few steps apart and began tearing and mashing the leaves. A sharp odour rose from the green mess, stinging her eyes. She spread her legs out before her, brushed off the dirt and applied the poultice onto the red thorn-scratches that had begun to throb. She did the same with those on her arms, then stood up and walked towards the group, regretting the sharp smell of saltooth that followed her.
She sat down amongst the others and was quiet for a moment, not daring to look any in the eye. Some were still crying. The children were asleep as they were very tired: the tribe had never walked so far in one day. Asha glanced and saw Fren standing apart, his head swivelling from side to slide slowly as he kept watch. Turning around slightly, Asha saw that the other men were doing the same. Koom nodded when their gaze crossed. Asha turned to the woman who sat to her left. She could see that the woman sported various scratches from running through the jungle.
“Hey,” she whispered gently.
The woman turned towards Asha. Her eyes were red from crying.
“I know it’s not much – it’s saltooth – but it’ll help,” Asha explained as she offered the poultice.
“What? What’s that for?”
“For the scratches.”
The woman’s expression cleared and she eyed Asha with a new curiosity. “You know about plants?”
Asha shrugged and proffered the saltooth again. The woman extended her arm.
Ringal stood peering at the humans in the compounds of the Deputy Slave Manager, glancing back and forth from his sketchbook to them. Something caught his eye and he motioned to the guard behind him without taking his eyes off the human that crouched in the back.
“That one,” he said to the guard, “the one sitting, with the necklace.”
The guard nodded and entered the cage, lightly swinging a stout wooden club with a loop of cord tied to one end. He shuffled past a number of humans, grimacing at the stench, until he reached the one Ringal had pointed out.
He prodded the human sharply in the arm. “Get up,” he commanded.
The human looked up wearily and hauled itself up. The guard placed the cord about its neck and pushed it up to the bars.
Ringal looked at the human critically, taking mental notes of its condition, approximate age and any defining marks. He peered at the necklace and, his eyes narrowing in curiosity, glanced back at his sketch. He looked back at the human’s necklace and reached towards it, intending to bring it closer. The human immediately lunged at Ringal’s hand as it passed the bars but was checked by the guard’s hold on the cord about its neck. The human made a choking sound and bared its teeth, but its hand fell back to its side. Ringal again reached for the necklace, slightly more anxious now.
Ringal knew from his hours of study that humans in the wild were not generally vicious and aggressive, as was told in the City. He was now, however, painfully aware of the fact that one should never provoke a human, particularly a wild one, when it was frustrated or cornered.
With the necklace in his hand, Ringal was able to examine the pattern of beads and ragged feathers more closely. A number of the beads were made from wood or seed-shells but one or two were made from a brightly-coloured stone. Ringal marveled at the smoothness and near-spherical shape of the beads and wondered if the human had actually made them. He did not recognize the work as apemade.
Ringal shook his head and waved the human away. Interesting though the necklace was, it did not have the fence-nails that some humans stole from the farmers. His only hope of identifying a member of Omega’s pack was finding another human with a necklace like hers, as the nails were not common decorations, due to the difficulty of finding them. As the guard lifted the cord off of the human’s neck, Ringal stopped him and made a note of the stone beads. They, too, were unusual, and might prove interesting to study.
“You might be able to purchase the necklace. If your interested, that is,” whispered the guard in a conspiratorial tone.
Ringal shook his head and turned to the next cage. His search for the necklace was interrupted by a heated argument coming from the entrance. As he was looking, a young female chimpanzee entered determinedly. A harassed-looking Limbo followed closely behind.
“Do be reasonable!”
“Reasonable? How can you ask me to be reasonable. Look!” The female pointed at one of the cages that held the human children. “These young have to be with their dams. Why must they be separated? Semos knows you’ll do so soon enough.”
“Well, Ari, that’s exactly why. Having them separate from their dams now make things easier in the long run.”
“Oh?” countered Ari testily.
“It’s easiest to compare the young when they’re all together – ”
“All you care about is your commerce!”
“Well, yes,” replied Limbo, seeing nothing wrong with the statement. “But also, though you probably didn’t know this, the other females would attack the young.” His tone turned falsely soft. “I’m sure you wouldn’t want me to expose these poor, helpless young to such a barrage of teeth, would you?”
Ari’s retort died on her lips as she looked at the children sitting on the earth and turned towards the cage containing the human females.
“I think the dam would protect – ”
“There’s no need for the dam to protect its young,” interrupted a soft voice. Ringal walked up towards them, hands clasped. “The human animal is generally very gentle with young ones, whether or not they are their own. I have seen members of different packs treat the other’s young kindly, though they are strangers. Even under great stress, such as a raid, any human will protect the young, even endangering its own safety for the young.” Realizing that he was lecturing, Ringal apologized for his interruption and introduced himself to Ari.
“Did you say you’d seen human packs?” said Ari.
“Yes. I study them, actually. It’s for my thesis.”
Ari looked at him curiously for a moment. Limbo shuffled nervously.
“Sorry to have troubled you, Limbo,” said Ari insincerely. Both knew that their discussion was not over. “Would you leave me to talk to this young scientist?”
Once Limbo had left, Ringal turned back to the cages and began his search again. Ari glanced curiously at his sketch and promptly asked him many questions about it. Ringal answered as best he could, not being an expert in human decorative habits but rather in their general behaviour. However, once Ari realized this, she was thrilled. She pressed him for data and, when Ringal made his intent to leave known, she followed him outside.
“I would love to know more about humans, Ringal. Could we perhaps continue this conversation some other time?”
“Well, I only meant to stay in the City for a few days. I really do want to try and find other humans with this kind of necklace,” said Ringal, gesturing to his notebook. Upon seeing Ari’s disappointment he quickly added “But that won’t take up all of my time. I would be interested in talking about humans with you. Few apes outside my field would find the conversation interesting, I must admit.”
“I’ve always been interested in them, but no one around me seems to share the interest.”
“I’m hardly surprised – ” began Ringal but stopped in horror, having just remembered exactly who he was talking to, and the kind of apes to whom she referred. “Oh, no, please forgive me. How rude of me,” he mumbled.
Ari simply smiled and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m hardly surprised myself.”
After a bit more casual conversation, they agreed on a time and place for the next day and said their goodbyes.
Ringal sat by the bar in a smoky inn, drink in hand. There were a few people seated at the tables, eating a light meal and chatting amicably. He studied them one by one, wondering as he always did what kind of household each one ran. Those two by the window, he thought they might be business partners out for a drink, discussing the papers they had strewn all over the table. The group of four youths by the door seemed agitated enough, full of energy and, he noted, alcohol. He was studying the couple in a corner when the door opened and Ari walked in. The youths gaped for a moment and nudged each other with low guffaws. Ari ignored them and came towards the bar, glancing about her curiously as she sat down. Ringal stood, waving at the bartender.
“Semos bless, Ari of Sandar.”
“Hello, Ringal. Please, sit down, and do lets be informal. I loath formalities.”
“What’ll it be, miss?” said the bartender, a wiry and gray-haired gorilla.
“Berry-wine, please.” Ari turned to Ringal, leaning on the edge of the bar. “What is it exactly that you study in humans? You mentioned field studies…”
“Why yes, I’m very much in the field. And by field, of course, I mean the Sug. Not much of a field,” he joked lamely. Ari smiled slightly in response and encouraged him on with a nod. “I’m tracking a pack of humans, studying how the individuals interact and observing their behaviour. It’s not terribly exciting, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, but it must be! Hardly anyone studies humans, especially not in the wild. Why, apart from scientists like yourself, the most knowledgeable ape on humans would have to be Limbo. And that’s a terrible thing indeed.”
“Yes,” laughed Ringal, paying the bartender who’d arrived with the berry-wine. “Although he’s not always wrong. He takes acceptable care of them.”
“May I ask a personal question, Ringal?”
“Of course.”
“Why are you studying humans?”
“Well, I suppose it’s because I find them so curious, and we know so little about them. Oh, of course we know their physiology, but that’s hardly all there is to them. And the little else we know is, as I’ve said, often wrong. Why, everything I learnt on my mother’s knee, the folk tales and monster stories that kept me up at night, I can disprove them all today.”
“Indeed, ‘if you don’t eat your dinner, I’ll have you taken outside the gates’ used to be a favorite of my father’s.” Ari smiled, then remembered something and frowned deeply, lifting her fingers to her lips as she continued, “and then there’s Calima…”
Ringal avoided her glance by staring into his drink and was silent for a moment. When he next spoke, his voice was hardly a whisper. “And you’ll have to forgive me for this, some may call it blasphemy, but they are so very much like us.”
He felt Ari place her hand on his arm and smile softly at him. “That’s not blasphemy.”
They settled at the table by the window, where the businessapes had sat, and continued their conversation over a light meal.
“Are you familiar, Ringal, with the Human’s Rights Faction?” began Ari in a low voice.
“Vaguely, yes.” Ringal considered, then continued quietly: “I approve of them, if that’s what you want to know.”
“I thought as much. I’m involved in the group, very much so, though of course my father and practically every one else I know isn’t too keen on that.”
“To be expected, really,” commented Ringal.
“I’d like for you to join us.”
Ringal put down his fork slowly onto his plate and lifted his eyes to hers, his expression serious. “I’m sorry.”
“With your knowledge on humans we could–”
“I don’t think you understood, Ari,” Ringal interrupted, his voice lower, “I said I would not. I cannot.”
“How do you mean?”
“I have my thesis to finish.”
“But this wouldn’t take up much of your time,” she said, utterly confused by his rejection and his reasons.
“My work is very controversial. Many of my seniors were and still are against my fieldwork, some even trying to prevent my obtaining a permit to work outside the gates. Supporting your group would dry up my funds, which are few already, and seriously hamper my studies.”
“I could fund you. The Association would fund you.”
“My paper would never be accepted by the committee, nor published in any of the papers. I’m sorry Ari, but that would mean the end of my career even before it began.”
Ari looked heartbroken as she picked at the food on her plate. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’d thought…”
“I hope you understand why I can’t.”
“Oh, yes, you’ve made yourself quite clear,” she responded bitterly.
Ringal sighed and looked out the window, wondering how he could support this cause without dragging himself into the mud.
“Alright,” he said softly, at which Ari looked up with a hopeful expression. “I’m not saying I’ll join and wear your ribbon, as they say, but I could still help.”
“What do you mean?” asked Ari, breathless with curiosity.
“You’ve got the leading expert on human behaviour on your side. I’m sure that’ll bolster you arguments.”
Her smile at his words was incredible and she reached across the table to grasp his hand tightly. “Oh thank you, Ringal. You’re star-sent.”
“Mind,” he added, withdrawing his hand slowly, “I’d appreciate anonymity.”
“Of course, not a word until you publish,” said Ari, understanding at once why any information divulged before his thesis defence had to be in complete confidence: the Association’s source of information would be too obvious and endanger Ringal. “But,” she added slyly, “could you tell me about your discoveries? I’m terribly curious.”
“Of course,” said Ringal warmly. “I’ll write to you.”
Ringal Matnick’s Notebook, Entry 269
Late Afternoon:
Over past days, young male 6 has attempted several times to come close to Omega, but each time the other females, by far the most aggressive towards Omega’s presence, have warned him away. Curiously, the few times that he’s been able to come close to her for a short while, while Omega has done nothing to discourage him, neither has she enticed him further. This lack of action on her part is strange: having a male ally would raise her up from the low status of outsider. Perhaps the other female’s presence prevents her from actively seeking out Indigo. Male’s number of attempts at contact diminish slightly though encounters are longer. Must keep eye on pair’s progress.
Ringal Matnick’s Notebook, Entry 272
Late Afternoon:
Quite some developments this morning. The raids have indeed incremented. Though the inquiries proved fruitless at the paddocks (see Entry 267 and 268) and none of Omega’s pack-members were found, am quite confident that the capture of her pack was the cause of her being a loner. The curious fact is that almost the entire pack was captured. Am sure this is the case as she has not shown signs of searching or calling for her pack members. Having dealt with the trappers before, am aware that the norm is to capture only a few prime specimens from each pack. In fact, the effort of capturing that many humans (in what must have been one single event) must have been great, requiring at least a large group of trappers and more-that-usual coordination between them.
Early this morning, little after the pack had begun to stir, found self in most bothersome situation. Pack under study was the goal of some trappers. The consequent events of chasing and, alas, capture of some specimens (as was revealed later), have wreaked havoc on the study. Not only did the hunt interrupt a most interesting and rare usage of plants for what appeared to be medicinal purposes and remove some members from the pack and, hence, from the study (the repercussions of which have yet to be assessed, though must admit the grieving-behaviour of the humans will prove interesting), but also other problems. The feeding area has been trampled beyond use. Had difficulty tracking the pack once the havoc was over and lost many hours. Abandoned tracks shortly after dusk; pack apparently still moving (most unusual behaviour) steadily west. Fear that they are abandoning their territory in the face of the raids.
Once they’d stopped running and Fren had managed to group them together once more, no one said a word. Everyone sat stood in a circle, some leaning on trees or each other. Mothers patted their children absently. They stood around Fren who was whispering the names of those he could not find. Some individuals sobbed quietly into their hands, none daring to make any loud sounds.
Eventually, once they had recovered from the shock, Fren lead them deeper into the forest. They walked quietly but steadily for a few hours, would rest for only as long as a stern Fren allowed, then moved on.
During one of the pauses Asha slunk away from the group searching among the undergrowth for a certain plant. She’d found some earlier, before they’d been chased, but hadn’t had time to collect any. She heard a hiss, followed by running footsteps, and turned to see one of the youths that had taunted her by Round Pool approaching. Asha gasped and tried to back away, but he gripped her arm, at the same time putting his finger to his lips.
“Fren’s orders. You can’t walk about alone, or far from the group now. ‘S not safe.”
“I was just looking for some saltooth. For wounds,” she whispered back.
The youth looked at her curiously for a moment, then nodded. “What’s it look like?”
Once the saltooth was found and collected the two returned in silence to the huddled tribe. Shaz, as Asha now knew him, immediately left her side and reunited with his brother Mart.
Asha sat down a few steps apart and began tearing and mashing the leaves. A sharp odour rose from the green mess, stinging her eyes. She spread her legs out before her, brushed off the dirt and applied the poultice onto the red thorn-scratches that had begun to throb. She did the same with those on her arms, then stood up and walked towards the group, regretting the sharp smell of saltooth that followed her.
She sat down amongst the others and was quiet for a moment, not daring to look any in the eye. Some were still crying. The children were asleep as they were very tired: the tribe had never walked so far in one day. Asha glanced and saw Fren standing apart, his head swivelling from side to slide slowly as he kept watch. Turning around slightly, Asha saw that the other men were doing the same. Koom nodded when their gaze crossed. Asha turned to the woman who sat to her left. She could see that the woman sported various scratches from running through the jungle.
“Hey,” she whispered gently.
The woman turned towards Asha. Her eyes were red from crying.
“I know it’s not much – it’s saltooth – but it’ll help,” Asha explained as she offered the poultice.
“What? What’s that for?”
“For the scratches.”
The woman’s expression cleared and she eyed Asha with a new curiosity. “You know about plants?”
Asha shrugged and proffered the saltooth again. The woman extended her arm.
