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![[Story in Description] Campsite](http://d.furaffinity.net/art/rioluxxxandromeda/1677335466/1677335466.rioluxxxandromeda_campsite.png "Click to change the View")
[Story in Description] Campsite
Next: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/51328725/
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/46986680/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
Alternative Reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3.....ters/114019396
=====
NOTE: I've had this sitting on my harddrive for over half a year now. It took far too long and caused me a lot of grief to write and illustrate this. So I finally decided "Sod it. Done is better than perfect." It is shorter than most of my other chapters. But I'm glad to have it out the door. Hopefully it won't disappoint too much.
=====
The campsite was quiet, save for the crunch of snow underfoot. A pitiful campfire crackled and spat below Eru's rather battered cooking pot, and much to Rook's relief, there was not a trace of evidence that Pam had tried to use it.
He crouched beside the twin's handiwork. The fire rasped like a dying animal in its poorly constructed pit, recoiling and spitting every time the still wind so much as twitched. The embers wafted pitifully around the pot as particularly drunk flies would, trying to find their way out of a kitchen window and somehow managing to miss on every attempt. It dawned on Rook that if he didn't get a proper fire going, he'd have an easier time cooking their food by sitting on it.
It didn't take long to correct their mistakes. A large stone slab at the back of the fire acted as a simple means to reduce the smoke, a small ring of stones to trap the heat and a little hole at the front to increase airflow. With it's accommodations completed and firewood supplied, the campfire quickly got its act together.
Shaking off the last bits of snow and fluffing out his feathers, Rook surveyed the ground for a dry place to sit near the fire. There was a biting chill to this desolate place, even for a Rito. He pulled his scarf a little closer as he lowered himself to the floor, the wind was beginning to stir.
Shuffling footsteps drew Rook's attention away from the cold. The twins felt and fumbled their way into the alcove, spraying a small shower of slush into the fire. Their faces were whiter than the snow, save for their noses, which looked red and waxy. A sign of frostbite.
“Get inside your tent. Before you freeze to death.” Rook huffed, how had he not noticed their absence? How long had they been gone? How long had he been gone? “Why didn't you cover your faces? And more so, why did you wander off without letting me know?”
Eru didn't respond at first. Instead he dropped a pile of branches on the floor. In the firelight, both he and his sister looked on the verge of collapse. Dark rings enveloped their eyes, and it was clear they were struggling to stay awake.
“Needed firewood.” Eru mumbled.
“Tent. Now.” Rook barked. And the twins shuffled off. For once, too tired to argue or complain. They'd feel quite sore once they warmed up, while he was no doctor, he had plenty of experience dealing with frostbite. Each winter, not a day would go by without one of Captain Heroth's soldiers complaining about it. He'd learned quite quickly that Hylians were not well adapted to the cold.
Rook felt his body starting to droop, as well as a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. They'd not eaten since their short rest in the tunnels. A hearty stew would be the perfect remedy for a frigid night, if their pack of supplies wasn't already running short. Which meant another meal of thin, watery soup. Pam wasn't going to be very happy.
The moon had sunk behind Mount Lanayru by the time Rook had finished preparations, it's silvery light reduced to a few wispy strands peeping over the peaks, plunging the snowfield into black. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay awake, his limbs sagged under the weight of exhaustion, and lifting his arm to stir the watery soup felt like trying to lift an anvil. Every now and again, Rook felt himself start to drift into the warm, relaxing feeling as your mind finally surrenders itself to sleep. But every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was the dim purple light of a familiar hateful spectre. It was waiting for him. Waiting for him to slip into a dream of which it was in control. Waiting to torment him further with visions and nightmares...
With a yelp, Rook snapped awake as scalding soup spat onto his hand. Or what he thought was soup. The water had almost entirely boiled off, leaving behind a thick, paste-like goo of congealed wild peppers, bread and meat at the bottom of the pan. A paste-like goo that was starting to burn. With haste, Rook spooned as much as he could salvage into the bowls Eru had left out. Even he found himself rather disappointed in the resulting mess. Whether it was an improvement over watery gruel was anyone's guess, but it was cooling rapidly, and cold slop was never fun to eat.
“What on earth is that?” Pam mumbled as she glared at the bowl shoved into her hands, reluctantly crawling out of her bedroll.
“Food. You need to eat.”
“It smells... burnt.”
“Good. It's supposed too.” Rook lied.
“What exactly is this?”
“It's...” Rook paused, scowling as Pam chased the sludge around the bowl with her spoon. “...Medical.”
Pam cocked an eyebrow. “Do you mean Medicinal? It just looks like a hunk of burnt goo to me.”
“Heroth taught me to make it.” Rook lied, again. “The peppers are charred to bring out their warming properties.”
“And the bread?”
“Makes it slightly more edible.”
“And you're sure you didn't just burn it?”
“Absolutely.” Rook lied, like a liar.
Turning towards Eru, who was only now awaking from his slumber, Rook thrust a bowl of sludge into his hands before finally sitting down to tuck into his own.
It was revolting.
The peppers tasted metallic, as if they'd leached the metal straight from the cooking pot, the bread only served to give the meal a more solid form. It did not, as he'd claimed, make it edible. At the very least, the peppers did provide their signature warmth, even if it was packaged into a disgusting amalgam. Aside from their pained expressions, the Twins were already looking less waxy and cold.
The trio ate in deafening silence, Pam's discontent made known only be a few angry glares. The slop was harder to swallow than an inconvenient truth, but it was at the very least only marginally better than starving. The quiet was broken only by the clatter of bowls as Pam and Eru returned to their tent, likely eager to get a few more snatches of sleep before dawn. Comforted by the sound of crackling wood, Rook poked the fire absent-mindedly. He wanted desperately to sleep, to lie down and rest his aching body. But he knew what waited.
What exactly was the interloper anyway? It spoke to him with a voice he hadn't recognised, and appeared as a formless light. In all his years he'd never heard of anything like this happening to someone before. Probably for a good reason, he reckoned. After all, what would someone think if you told them you'd closed your eyes to meditate, and instead conversed with a malicious purple star? It stood to reason anyone experiencing this would keep it to themselves.
But something didn't sit right about it. There was a strangeness to all of it, not the normal kind of strange mind you, like when you swore you had only bought three dinner plates but find you now have four and had only been charged for two of them, but the weird kind of strange. Like the odd smell that lingers around old people.
Rook's body protested as he pulled himself upright, the sky above was near pitch black, lit only by the sprawling ocean of stars that stretched into the unfathomable depths of the aether. Even here, so far from home, Rook could see the unusual, yet familiar ladle shaped star-pattern that Komogo always loved to point out as child. They had each come up with their own wild theories as to why it was shaped that way, Rook had insisted years ago that it was, in fact, Hylia's Soup Spoon. Why else would it change to a new angle every season if it wasn't being picked up and used? Komogo had told him that was stupid.
Tearing his view from the stars, Rook brought his focus downwards. Despite the dazzling array of lights above, the ground below was dark as coal. Only a few trees could be seen amidst the backdrop of night, very suddenly, he felt very exposed. There was no telling what lurked in those shadows.
Resting his shoulder against the icy rocks, Rook resigned himself to keeping vigil. Sleep, and the interloper. Would have to wait.
Previous: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/46986680/
First: https://www.furaffinity.net/view/41342787/
Alternative Reading: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3.....ters/114019396
=====
NOTE: I've had this sitting on my harddrive for over half a year now. It took far too long and caused me a lot of grief to write and illustrate this. So I finally decided "Sod it. Done is better than perfect." It is shorter than most of my other chapters. But I'm glad to have it out the door. Hopefully it won't disappoint too much.
=====
The campsite was quiet, save for the crunch of snow underfoot. A pitiful campfire crackled and spat below Eru's rather battered cooking pot, and much to Rook's relief, there was not a trace of evidence that Pam had tried to use it.
He crouched beside the twin's handiwork. The fire rasped like a dying animal in its poorly constructed pit, recoiling and spitting every time the still wind so much as twitched. The embers wafted pitifully around the pot as particularly drunk flies would, trying to find their way out of a kitchen window and somehow managing to miss on every attempt. It dawned on Rook that if he didn't get a proper fire going, he'd have an easier time cooking their food by sitting on it.
It didn't take long to correct their mistakes. A large stone slab at the back of the fire acted as a simple means to reduce the smoke, a small ring of stones to trap the heat and a little hole at the front to increase airflow. With it's accommodations completed and firewood supplied, the campfire quickly got its act together.
Shaking off the last bits of snow and fluffing out his feathers, Rook surveyed the ground for a dry place to sit near the fire. There was a biting chill to this desolate place, even for a Rito. He pulled his scarf a little closer as he lowered himself to the floor, the wind was beginning to stir.
Shuffling footsteps drew Rook's attention away from the cold. The twins felt and fumbled their way into the alcove, spraying a small shower of slush into the fire. Their faces were whiter than the snow, save for their noses, which looked red and waxy. A sign of frostbite.
“Get inside your tent. Before you freeze to death.” Rook huffed, how had he not noticed their absence? How long had they been gone? How long had he been gone? “Why didn't you cover your faces? And more so, why did you wander off without letting me know?”
Eru didn't respond at first. Instead he dropped a pile of branches on the floor. In the firelight, both he and his sister looked on the verge of collapse. Dark rings enveloped their eyes, and it was clear they were struggling to stay awake.
“Needed firewood.” Eru mumbled.
“Tent. Now.” Rook barked. And the twins shuffled off. For once, too tired to argue or complain. They'd feel quite sore once they warmed up, while he was no doctor, he had plenty of experience dealing with frostbite. Each winter, not a day would go by without one of Captain Heroth's soldiers complaining about it. He'd learned quite quickly that Hylians were not well adapted to the cold.
Rook felt his body starting to droop, as well as a gnawing hunger in the pit of his stomach. They'd not eaten since their short rest in the tunnels. A hearty stew would be the perfect remedy for a frigid night, if their pack of supplies wasn't already running short. Which meant another meal of thin, watery soup. Pam wasn't going to be very happy.
The moon had sunk behind Mount Lanayru by the time Rook had finished preparations, it's silvery light reduced to a few wispy strands peeping over the peaks, plunging the snowfield into black. It took an enormous amount of effort to stay awake, his limbs sagged under the weight of exhaustion, and lifting his arm to stir the watery soup felt like trying to lift an anvil. Every now and again, Rook felt himself start to drift into the warm, relaxing feeling as your mind finally surrenders itself to sleep. But every time he shut his eyes, all he could see was the dim purple light of a familiar hateful spectre. It was waiting for him. Waiting for him to slip into a dream of which it was in control. Waiting to torment him further with visions and nightmares...
With a yelp, Rook snapped awake as scalding soup spat onto his hand. Or what he thought was soup. The water had almost entirely boiled off, leaving behind a thick, paste-like goo of congealed wild peppers, bread and meat at the bottom of the pan. A paste-like goo that was starting to burn. With haste, Rook spooned as much as he could salvage into the bowls Eru had left out. Even he found himself rather disappointed in the resulting mess. Whether it was an improvement over watery gruel was anyone's guess, but it was cooling rapidly, and cold slop was never fun to eat.
“What on earth is that?” Pam mumbled as she glared at the bowl shoved into her hands, reluctantly crawling out of her bedroll.
“Food. You need to eat.”
“It smells... burnt.”
“Good. It's supposed too.” Rook lied.
“What exactly is this?”
“It's...” Rook paused, scowling as Pam chased the sludge around the bowl with her spoon. “...Medical.”
Pam cocked an eyebrow. “Do you mean Medicinal? It just looks like a hunk of burnt goo to me.”
“Heroth taught me to make it.” Rook lied, again. “The peppers are charred to bring out their warming properties.”
“And the bread?”
“Makes it slightly more edible.”
“And you're sure you didn't just burn it?”
“Absolutely.” Rook lied, like a liar.
Turning towards Eru, who was only now awaking from his slumber, Rook thrust a bowl of sludge into his hands before finally sitting down to tuck into his own.
It was revolting.
The peppers tasted metallic, as if they'd leached the metal straight from the cooking pot, the bread only served to give the meal a more solid form. It did not, as he'd claimed, make it edible. At the very least, the peppers did provide their signature warmth, even if it was packaged into a disgusting amalgam. Aside from their pained expressions, the Twins were already looking less waxy and cold.
The trio ate in deafening silence, Pam's discontent made known only be a few angry glares. The slop was harder to swallow than an inconvenient truth, but it was at the very least only marginally better than starving. The quiet was broken only by the clatter of bowls as Pam and Eru returned to their tent, likely eager to get a few more snatches of sleep before dawn. Comforted by the sound of crackling wood, Rook poked the fire absent-mindedly. He wanted desperately to sleep, to lie down and rest his aching body. But he knew what waited.
What exactly was the interloper anyway? It spoke to him with a voice he hadn't recognised, and appeared as a formless light. In all his years he'd never heard of anything like this happening to someone before. Probably for a good reason, he reckoned. After all, what would someone think if you told them you'd closed your eyes to meditate, and instead conversed with a malicious purple star? It stood to reason anyone experiencing this would keep it to themselves.
But something didn't sit right about it. There was a strangeness to all of it, not the normal kind of strange mind you, like when you swore you had only bought three dinner plates but find you now have four and had only been charged for two of them, but the weird kind of strange. Like the odd smell that lingers around old people.
Rook's body protested as he pulled himself upright, the sky above was near pitch black, lit only by the sprawling ocean of stars that stretched into the unfathomable depths of the aether. Even here, so far from home, Rook could see the unusual, yet familiar ladle shaped star-pattern that Komogo always loved to point out as child. They had each come up with their own wild theories as to why it was shaped that way, Rook had insisted years ago that it was, in fact, Hylia's Soup Spoon. Why else would it change to a new angle every season if it wasn't being picked up and used? Komogo had told him that was stupid.
Tearing his view from the stars, Rook brought his focus downwards. Despite the dazzling array of lights above, the ground below was dark as coal. Only a few trees could be seen amidst the backdrop of night, very suddenly, he felt very exposed. There was no telling what lurked in those shadows.
Resting his shoulder against the icy rocks, Rook resigned himself to keeping vigil. Sleep, and the interloper. Would have to wait.
Category All / All
Species Unspecified / Any
Size 2283 x 1614px
File Size 2.28 MB
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