Vast, Our World and Our Resolve - Chapter Twenty-one
Story by Shotgun FIshing on SoFurry
The forest outside of Uajee is revealed to be as foreboding as it appears.
The last dregs of sunlight had begun to fade from the horizon, yet the traveling duo failed to encounter any signs of their destination. As the light faded from the already dim forest, the dense canopy began to feel denser to the point where Martin was glad he wasn’t claustrophobic. Even Namo, who had spent most of her life in the elements, apparently felt “Maybe we should camp for the night?” Namo inquired. “I’m thinkin’ it’ll be hard to keep goin’ once it’s dark.”
“Yeah, I hear you, but let’s just go a little bit farther. There might be a clear spot off the trail up ahead we can use to set up camp.” As if to protest his headstrong demeanor, Martin’s stomach growled. “Uh, we don’t have to go much farther. I prom—.”
The man didn’t have the chance to finish his sentence as he felt a taut string against his ankle, causing him to trip and break the line. Before he could react, he felt the world flip end over end as he was hoisted off the ground by his leg, losing the heavy rucksack off his shoulders and the felt hat off his head in the process. He yelped in reflex and pain as he dangled helplessly from a large branch of an overhanging fir by one leg, feeling as if the joint threatened to pop out of its socket. Panicking, with his heart beating in his ears, the vagabond tried to lean upward to untie the rope, but lacking the leverage to do so, he toiled fruitlessly against the rope that dug into his leg. After determining he couldn’t make any progress on his own, the man relaxed, allowing his arms to dangle. He had been hoisted high enough off the ground for him to extend his arms vertically and still not touch the ground.
“Namo!” Martin cried, head pounding from his abrupt inversion, only to find she had already run over to inspect the situation.
“Oh for shoot! Are you okay? Um, uh, let me cut you down.” The woman stammered.
“Yeah, I’m fine!” he groaned. “Be careful!”
Namo looked around for a foothold on the tree Martin was suspended from, but found none. She must have been panicking too, because when the human told her to follow the rope, she seemed to snap out of her worry-induced state of panic. Sure enough, the faun followed the loop of the rope snare around the branch to a hefty boulder about her size. How this boulder was able to be suspended from the branch without breaking was a testament to the durability of the tree. Martin watched as she quickly brandished the machete normally strapped to her pack and began sawing through the heavy hempen rope. The man lurched several inches toward the ground with each severed cord of the rope.
“Watch your hands and head!” Namo said, and Martin tucked his body in. It would be a hard landing, but he would rather land on his back than his skull. “Ready?” Namo called out to him. Martin replied in the affirmative, while Namo severed the last cord.
The human expected a hard fall, but it never came: Namo’s adroitness and strength were sufficient to both catch the rope as it sped past her head and also give Martin a controlled descent to the earth. Once his back landed softly on the sodden ground, he managed to roll upright with minimal effort, with only muddy clothes to show from the ordeal. Well, that and a length of rope tied around his leg.
Namo made her way back to the man and began working the rope off of his leg as he sat on the trail. “You scared me there, for a hot second,” she said, hushed by the remnants of panic she fought through.
Martin’s heart still pounded but the throbbing in his head had thankfully subsided as quickly as it came. “I scared me, too. I don’t know what I would have done without you,” he said, looking at the faun directly before adding “…as usual.”
The man cut the length of rope encircling his leg free with his pocket knife and inspected the braided hemp after placing his hat back on his head. “This rope is far too thick for simply snaring some small game. Namo, do you know anything about the fauns here?”
She shook her head. “Only that they’re close neighbors to the humans in these parts.”
“Not whether they’re friendly to outsiders?”
Namo tilted her head to the side. “Never met a Kepmuu who wasn’t. Why?”
As if to punctuate her question, Namo’s ear twitched and on reflex she ducked, seemingly without her conscious input. She quickly pulled the man down just in time for an arrow to whiz past them and strike the tree Martin was suspended from only moments ago, followed shortly thereafter by a second arrow.
The man almost wanted to inspect the arrows but Namo kept an iron grip on his shoulder. “I’m not sure what in the heck is goin’ on here, but these folks don’t seem too keen on us. We should prob’ly get outta here.”
“Where are they coming from?”
Namo, still low to the ground, cupped her ear and swiveled her head. “I don’t hear them. We should hide somewhere,” she whispered. She began to creep along the trail, as it was quieter than trampling through the forest undergrowth. Martin followed close behind. The woman, looking straight ahead, pointed at a gap in the undergrowth at their eleven o’clock and began running faster in her hunched stance. Martin attempted to keep up as best he could, but the athletic woman was clearly more used to running in this way than he was, particularly with his heavy pack.
Namo reached the gap, pulling a branch open for her human companion to make his way through. Martin nearly made it to the gap, too, before he was hoisted off the ground a second time, this time by his back. The traveling rogue wasn’t sure whether he or Namo shouted louder, but in the near darkness, the hoisting force rotated his body around, and he witnessed the largest faun he had ever seen. The giant stood easily twice his height, with a body reminiscent of a wall of meat shaped like a mountain. His visage grimaced in disgust and rage: his ears and face were pockmarked by half a dozen notches and scars, evidence of prior skirmishes. Additionally, the faun bore a peculiar tattoo of vertical bars on his chest surrounded by trimmed hairs. Panic setting in once again, Martin thrashed and spat. “Let go of me, asshole!” The man attempted to free his arms from his pack, but was unsuccessful. The gargantuan man used his free arm to fluidly spin him back around and wrap his arm around Martin’s neck from behind, flinging the felt hat off his head and onto the muddy trail and effectively choke-holding the human despite the bulky rucksack between the two of them.
Pain, pressure, terror engulfed all of the man’s senses. Martin flailed in the giant faun’s grasp, trying desperately to pull the arm restricting his blood flow away from his neck, but to no avail. Despite having his pocket knife and pistol at his side, the man’s quickly dimming faculties and ringing ears begun to shut off from the world and he lost the rationality to think to grab for either of them. Within seconds, Martin’s struggle to gasp for breath was replaced by a sensation that, if he were to just fall asleep for a moment, the pain would dissipate. He felt very tired and a little sleep was sure to fix him right up. The forest grew dim and silent around him, as if the rain had ushered in a peaceful euthmyia. The human’s last thoughts before welcome darkness claimed him were of Namo. He hoped his companion would take care of herself.
Namo screamed, the battle cry ripping out of her throat with a harsh dissonance unfamiliar to the musically-inclined woman. She scrambled back through the branches she had just pulled aside to leave the trail behind. In front of her, the largest Kepmuu the woman had ever seen stood with his elbow locked around Martin’s neck. He was easily twice her size, but she knew she needed to do something, anything to protect her friend.
“Get away from him!” She howled in her native tongue, jumping at the faun with the intent of distracting him enough to get him to drop Martin. She clung to the man’s free arm and did the first thing she could think to, biting down on his arm with all the force she could muster.
The assailing faun groaned in a mixture of irritation and pain, attempting to shake the woman free, but he underestimated her tenacity. She chewed harder, her broad, ridged cheek teeth adapted for grinding up tough plant material more than sufficient to tear the man’s skin. She tasted iron and nearly spat the liquid out in disgust. After sawing the man’s tenderized skin, back and forth, three times, the pain became too much for her assailant to ignore and he unceremoniously dropped the man, who slumped on the ground on his stomach.
Now with his other arm free, he grabbed the faun by her arm and hoisted her off of him, tearing her mouth free from his arm and throwing the woman away. Namo sailed a meter through the air before crashing to the ground and rolling along her back, her backpack acting as a brake against the muddy trail. She only had a moment to catch her breath before the raging faun was upon her. Crouching over her prone form, he wordlessly drove a fist into her chest, but she rolled at the last moment and he struck her bag instead. Namo had to think fast or she would be crushed. She curled up and kicked up at the man with both of her hooves, causing the man to stagger backward. The action provided a split-second opening; she reached for her machete, only to find that it wasn’t belted to the side of her backpack anymore. In horror, she looked up to find that, in the chaos, the faun had ripped the strap of the machete away from the bag and now brandished it against her.
The faun rolled out of her backpack and onto her feet with liquid grace. Her options were limited and dwindling. She nevertheless considered them as the pair squared off. The giant had both a size and a weapon advantage over her, but she was likely more nimble. Her machete was her only weapon, true, but perhaps she could get it back somehow. Hit-and-run attacks, somehow? It was too risky. It quickly became apparent to the woman that she couldn’t beat this man in a one-on-one fight. And then there was Martin. She had to do whatever she could to make sure he was safe, even if it cost her. Swearing to herself, she dropped to her knees. “I surrender. Please, just don’t hurt us. I’ll give you whatever you want.”
The giant finally spoke, a deep rumble that showed no trace of fear, only irritation. “Stranger. You trespass on our lands and bring one of the naked ones with you? You are a disgrace. You show no respect for us, for your people.” He walked toward her, grip tightening on the machete.
“We are just travelers! We wish not to trespass, but to seek refuge on our way through!” Adrenaline still coursing through the much smaller woman, she nevertheless found the courage to stand her ground. “We sought only to defend—“
“Silence, tupotse!” The larger faun spat, using an ugly Kepmuun word for a scoundrel. “You have no business being here.” Closing in enough to be in arm’s reach, he snatched her by the arm despite her attempt to flee. “I should kill you and this naked one here and now, and maintain the peace of our village. The naked ones have caused us suffering enough, and to find a Kepmuu working with them? It is unforgivable!” He wrenched her arm behind her back and pressed the machete blade against her neck. On reflex, she pressed her head against the man’s stomach to prevent the weathered but still sharp blade from cutting her.
“Please, stop! I beg of you!” Namo pleaded. “Just let us go! We don’t—“
A resounding crack cut through Namo’s voice and the pattering rain.