Completed [Bronze Wood] Lessons Learned

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Day 45, Season Summer, 501 AV

"Nathaniel, please pay attention." Anton sighed as his son continued to look around in a mixture of youthful exuberance and wide-eye curiosity. And while Anton could not really blame his son for his exuberance, he also knew that out in the woods, it was crucial for Nate to understand just how dangerous it was out here. He had hoped that Nate's encounter with the hungry cougar the day before would have frightened some sense into the boy, but it seemed that Nate had forgotten the incident completely, still crashing through the brush like a herd of rampaging blind buffalo.

Nate, for his part, stared at all the pretty flowers that covered a green vine with curiosity. It was a long, spidery thing, with heart-shaped leaves that poked out from tiny stems that jutted out of the vine like tiny shovels. The stamens of the flowers were yellow until it reached the tips, where it flared into brilliant white, while the petals were a soft blue in color. All-in-all, the plant looked beautiful, and Nate couldn't help try to reach out to it, but Anton stopped him before he could touch it.

"Don't touch that!" Anton admonished. Nate looked up at his father in surprise.

"Why not, dad?" he asked, curiosity all over his face. "Is it poisonous or something?"

Anton shook his head. "I don't know, Nathaniel, but out in the wild you shouldn't touch anything you don't recognize. Every wild thing has defenses, son. Animals have teeth and claws. Plants have thorns and poison. It is how they defend themselves from us humans."

Bending down, Anton indicated that Nate should come over and take a look at what Anton had seen. On the ground were several indentations, markings that indicated the passage of game. The marks were partially obscured by foliage, and made indistinct by the passage of time. Anton frowned as Nate simply tromped over, not taking the time to look at his feet so as not to disturb any existing tracks. he'd need to teach Nate about that later.

Anton pointed at the tracks, then looked up at Nate expectantly. Nate studied the prints in the ground, brow furrowed in concentration. He didn't know what animal produced it, but he did understand what his father was trying to ask him. What was the procedure here? What did one do when one encountered prints like this? Nate figured the best option would be to follow them, and he made to do so, but Anton put a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head. With a huff, Nate bent back down. What was it his father was trying to make him see?

The tracks led from one side of the tiny clearing, and seemed to take a somewhat laborious path through it, sometimes deeper, sometimes lighter. The spacing was also funny, as Nate's eyes followed the path they took without getting up from his crouch. His legs were starting to burn from the strain of staying kneeling for the length of time he was, but Anton's hand prevented him from rising. Clearly, his father wanted him to see something, but Nate couldn't begin to imagine what it was his father wanted him to discover.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

So it wasn't the fact that the tracks were there that Anton wanted Nate to see. At least, that was what Anton's silent presence seemed to imply, as Nate wracked his brain to think what else these tracks told him. Well, they were a funny shape, kind of like half a circle or something, and he figured that whatever made it probably didn't have paws like Ama or her mother did. He saw how their paws looked when they transformed into their animal forms, and these prints didn't look like they could be made by them, or any animal like them. But that still didn't tell Nate what did.

"Dad, I-" Nate began, but Anton brought a finger to his lips, indicating that he should be silent. Nate gulped, nodded, and turned his attention back to the tracks. Nate sighed under his breath, trying to ignore the burn in his thighs as the unpleasant squatting began to take a toll on his young body. What did his dad want from him?! There was nothing here except a bunch of stupid funny-looking prints, a bunch of leaves, and small brown rocks...

Wait. Those were not brown rocks. Nate looked a bit closer, straining to see what they actually were. His nose caught a strange, musky odor, like someone did the nasty in their pants. Droppings. These were droppings. Was that what his father wanted him to see? But why did he want Nate to see some animal poo?

"I see you've found the scat marks," Anton said, breaking the silence for the first time, and making Nate jump slightly with the sudden noise. "It is very important to not just look for activity in the woods, but to look for recent activity. It's all well and good to follow tracks, Nathaniel, but when those tracks were made bells or days ago, it doesn't help you. You're going to end up running around in circles after a deer that's been gone since yesterday."

Nate sighed. All that for some stupid poo and a lecture. "So, poo means the animal's been here before? I mean, those prints kinda seem to say that already," Nate pouted. Anton shook his head.

"No, Nathaniel," he corrected. "The fact that the droppings still smelled, meant they were relatively fresh. Which means whatever dropped them is still relatively close by. Come on."

With that, Anton finally let Nate stand. He rose wobbly to his feet, his legs feeling like jelly after kneeling for so long. But his father was already two or three feet ahead, calling for him to follow. Nate swallowed and nodded, wondering what the next lession would be about.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

"What's the first rule of hunting, son?" Anton asked Nathaniel. Nate scrunched up his face in concentration, trying to remember the lessons that he'd learned not bells ago. But the words were slipping away, and after a few ticks he just looked up helplessly at his father. Anton sighed.

"The first rule is, understand your prey," he repeated, as he pointed at the ground again. Nate growled his frustration. More looking at stupid marks on the ground? What was the point of this?

"Nathaniel, you have to understand your prey if you're going to ever have any success finding them," Anton explained. "It's a necessity to every hunter. You see, it's not just about hitting the animal, it's about where to hit them. And finding an animal is oftentimes as simple as understanding how it thinks."

Pointing out the trail that they'd been following, Anton continued. "These trails don't always continue. Sometimes you're going to hit dry patches. Locations where there are no tracks at all. And sometimes you're going to find so many tracks you have no idea where to look next. That's why understanding the thinking of your prey is so important. Because if you can think like a deer, you will know where the deer will be."

Crouching down near the tracks, and indicating that Nate follow, Anton explained in more detail what he was talking about. "Take this deer track," he started. "Why was it made? What was the deer doing here? What was it thinking when it made the tracks? Why would a deer come through here?"

Nate didn't know the answers to any of these questions. He figured the deer was just... running? He really couldn't think of any other reason a deer would come through this particular section of the forest. Anton sighed a bit, as he moved a bit further up.

"See here," Anton waved, and Nate took a closer look. The grass was slightly yellowed, and the place stank of urine, but it had a different odor, not the sharp dankness of cat urine but a more muted odor. It still stank to the Ukalas but it was definitely a different smell than the territory-marking smell his father had been sure to point out to him in the past.

"This is not their grazing ground, but it is clearly a path they take through the woods. The fact that they are comfortable enough to urinate here means that this path is relatively safe, probably because it winds on the lee side of the hill and away from cougar territory. Still, a deer is a very skittish creature and doesn't stay in one place for very long. Especially not when it wishes to feed." Anton indicated that Nate notice the indentations as they appeared in the earth.

"Try to notice these things, such as the direction of the indentation, and how deep it is. Notice that these are relatively deep. It means the deer in question was moving at a fairly sedate pace. That means it's probably not too far from here."

Anton shrugged. "But the trail could easily dry up. Leaves, wind, any number of different natural phenomena could erase the trail. And of course, if the prey crosses running water, the trail is all-but-destroyed."

Nate tried to make sense of all that his father was trying to tell him, but it was all jumbling up in his head. All he really picked up was that apparently, deer got scared easily, so they tried to avoid staying in one place for very long, and that apparently this trail was pretty recent and away from dangerous big cats like the one that tried to eat him not too long ago. Nate could definitely sympathize with the deer on that point; staying away from those big cats definitely seemed like a pretty good idea.

"When are we actually gonna hunt, though?" Nate whined. Anton just shook his head.

"I don't think you understand, Nathaniel. We are hunting. We're humans, Nathan," Anton explained.

"We simply can't hunt like your friend Aka can. For us, hunting is about patience, and waiting for the right moment, and knowing your prey, because we can't just sniff the air for the scent of a deer then chase after it with the speed of a wolf."

Nate just sighed. From his father's description, hunting was looking to be an incredibly boring thing to be doing. And so far they hadn't even used any of their weapons! Nate frowned, but his father had already moved on, and so he pumped his legs to catch up. The last thing he wanted to do was to be caught out here alone.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Following game trails was tedious work indeed, and Nate's young mind couldn't help but wander as he occasionally sneaked a look off to the side every so often, taking in the sights and sounds of the forest. Syna's light was filtering in gently from the forest canopy and enveloping everything in a soft yellow glow, and the leaves and rotted wood on the ground gave everything a greenish, brownish tinge. Anton, however, had decided that his son needed a few more lessons on how to be a successful hunter out here. The sound of Nate's hungry stomach ripped through the air, and in the silence of the forest it sounded like the loudest noise in the world.

Anton smiled and indicated that Nate should come over. "You're hungry. Good," he said, and Nate's eyes opened a bit wider. Him being hungry was a good thing?!

"Hunger is usually a pretty good motivator," Anton explained. He shrugged slightly as he brought out his kurkri, instinctively checking its edge but being very careful not to actually touch it, the blade's sharpness being almost audible. Nate gulped as he watched his father handle the beautiful weapon. He knew he was not yet ready to handle such a tool and weapon; it was far too dangerous for him and his father had told him multiple times that the kukri was extremely sharp and should never be taken lightly. Still, he longed to hold the weapon in his hand, swing it back and forth, and feel it slice through the air.

"So, Nathaniel. You're hungry, but we haven't caught anything yet. What do you propose we eat?" Anton asked. It was a question that was very important to know the answer to, but Nate just furrowed his brow and looked around. He knew that the rotted leaves on the ground were not good for eating, and his father had cautioned him multiple times that any plant life he did not know for certain was safe should always be considered dangerous, so he knew the mushrooms growing on the sides of some of the trees were also out of the question.

Nate briefly wondered if maybe there were some wild fruits, but he couldn't see any in the forest, and finally gave up looking. "I don't know, dad," he said, finally, and his father gave him a stern look.

"You don't know? You're stuck out here alone. You're seriously telling me you'd rather starve than actually make an effort to look for food out here?" Even though Anton's voice was harsh, there was a note of calm in it. He wanted his son to see the issue from the point of view of a hunter, not that of a scared child, and the only way to do this was to put him in that situation, and force the boy to understand just how serious a situation it really was.

"This isn't fair!" Nate cried, his face scrunched up as the heat of the unfairness brought tears to his eyes. Anton took Nate by the shoulders and shook him roughly, then barked, "Look, at me, son."

When Nate didn't, Anton shouted, "Nathaniel Deveraux!" Nate's eyes shot up, fearful, starting into his father's angry visage.

"Not fair, you say?" Anton repeated.

"You want to tell the cougar that's about to eat you that it just isn't fair? Because I'm sorry, this is the wilds. There's no such thing as fair out here!"

Nate could feel his bottom lip tremble, his eyes threatening big salty tears as he snorted to keep the snot from dripping down his nose. Anton just released Nate's shouders and gave a heavy sigh. He indicated the boy should follow him, and bent down next to a rotted log.

"Many wild plants are poisonous, as I've already told you," Anton began, as he worked the kukri into the rotted wood. Despite the relative age of the bark, and the fact that the log was half-eaten already, it still took a few ticks before the powerful knife could dislodge a large enough chunk of it to get to the hollowed out insides.

"Insects though, are usually all safe to eat," Anton explained, as the exposed wood showed several wood grubs underneath. The insects had large, white, bulbous bodies and small black heads, and crawled up and down the rotted wood, eating it from the inside out. Nate's stomach turned at the sight and he turned his head, but Anton grabbed his son and forced him to look.

"This is the wilds, son, not Syliras," Anton explained, somewhat harshly.

"You can't always pick and choose what you have to eat out here. Now, we're hunters and that means, if we're lucky, we can catch a rabbit or deer to eat. But if we can't, we still have to eat! Because even one lost meal can cost you weeks of lost strength. If you want to survive, you have to eat, no matter what it is."

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate couldn't prevent the disgust from showing on his face as his father handed him one of the wriggling grubs. It looked disgusting, it smelled disgusting, and he really, really did not want to bite into this thing. He'd rather go hungry, but his father's speech earlier frankly told him the results if he tried to. No, he had to eat, and Nate squeezed his nose and bit into the grub, the bitter, sour, gritty taste of the insect nearly making him choke and gag as he tried to swallow the thing whole, but then spat it out. He just couldn't eat it!

Anton handed Nate his waterskin, and Nate gratefully took a mouthful of water to wash out the flavor of the disgusting bug. But his eyes widened when his father handed him another one, indicating he should try again. "Word of advice," Anton suggested, "bite off the head and spit it out. You don't want to be eating it anyway. The rest of it is perfectly safe."

Nate gulped and took his father's advice, setting his teeth as he bit off the head of the insect, the juices from within the grub exploding in his mouth and making him nearly gag again. He quickly spat out the entire thing, his tongue lolling out as he tried to get the taste out as well as the head. Now with only the body left, Nate took a deep breath, his brow furrowed unhappily as he tried to quickly shove the thing into his mouth. The instinct to chew was great, but he really did not want bug bits stuck in his teeth, so Nate chewed as little as he could before swallowing, and the entire thing tasted like, well, rotted wood, combined with bile.

Anton waited for his son to finish eating the grub before handing him more water to wash it down. Technically, washing down each grub was a waste of water, but he knew his son was just learning the techniques he'd need to survive, so he was willing to give him a little extra help in this form. And the boy would need it, undoubtedly. Anton waited for Nathaniel to finally catch his breath again before speaking.

"Watch carefully, son," he recommended, and he grabbed another one of the grubs. Putting the head of the grub in his mouth, Anton twisted his wrist just so, and essentially twisted the head off as he bit down and then immediately spat it back out, thus preventing the rather foul-tasting juice from squirting into his mouth. Then, he popped the rest of the grub into his mouth, making a grimace to the foul taste but nontheless chewing carefully before swallowing.

Nate watched carefully, and when Anton handed him another grub to try, he followed his father's advice, twisting the head as he bit down and spitting out immediately. It was still an extremely disgusting meal, but at least this way he had less of that unctuous juice to swallow. Still, the bitter grub tasted awful in his mouth, and did not go down any easier than the first one.

"I know it tastes awful, Nathaniel, but wood grubs are among the most common insects around, and the easiest to find," Anton explained, as he handed Nate the waterskin again. As Nate gulped down another mouthful of water, Anton investigated other trees, looking for signs of insect life. He was mainly looking for the tell-tale signs of termites; the wood-eating insects were numerous, and perfectly safe to eat.

"Nathaniel," Anton called, "come here." Nate got up unsteadily, a bit dizzy from his unusual meal, and walked over to where his father was indicating. It was a small tree with a knotted hole in its trunk, and Anton handed a small stick to Nate.

"Go ahead and poke in there," Anton prompted. Nate raised an eyebrow, but did as he was told, poking the stick into the small hole in the tree.

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

As soon as the stick came out, it was covered in termites, the small wood-eating insects gathering on the end of the stick and now coming out of the trunk after the disruption of their nest. Anton nodded and picked up one of the termites, once again biting off the head and then quickly popping it into his mouth.

"Termites are safe to eat as well," he explained, as though it was really necessary to say after his son saw him eating one. Nevertheless, Anton pressed forward.

"Since termites eat wood, you can usually find them in trees. Unlike wood grubs, though, they can also make their nests in living trees. Try to look for trees that have knotted holes like this one, and try poking a stick in to see if any termites come out."

After a brief period of watching Nate struggle with swallowing one of the termites, Anton rescued his son from having to eat any more bugs, grabbing the stick and putting it on the ground again. Nate's face had turned a little green from the experience, and Anton felt slightly bad to be putting his son through this. Nonetheless it was a very important lesson for Nathaniel to be learning.

"Now some things to remember," Anton cautioned. "Never eat any insect with more legs you can count. Never eat any insect that's brightly colored. And never eat any insect that has some sort of stinger. Most other insects, especially of the grub family, are safe to eat, if not particularly appetizing. But unfortunately, you can't subside on insects alone. Still, they do provide a quick burst of nutrition for relatively low cost."

Nate tried to nod, but it felt like the insects he'd swallowed were doing a little dance inside his stomach. He was making a few dry heaves, his stomach trying to reject the meal he'd given it, but after a few ticks of it, the heaves stopped and he was able to regain his composure. Anton watched his son sympathetically, but otherwise did not move to help. The first time eating insects was always the hardest, but occasionally it was absolutely necessary.

"Alright, so now that we have this under control, we need to move on," Anton suggested, indicating with his head that he and Nate should press forward. Nate nodded, as he tried to spit the last remnants of the taste of insect out of his mouth. He did not tell his father, but he seriously doubted he'd ever want to eat bugs ever again, even if there wasn't anythng else to eat.

Nate and Anton managed to actually leave the tree line and ended up in a small clearing. It wasn't very impressive-looking, but the clearing was covered in a waving array of soft grass, and certain wild herbs and weeds sprang up from the field of green that greeted their eyes. Anton studied the area briefly, before calling Nathan over.

"So, I want you to see this place and understand what is happening here," Anton explained.

"Open areas like this are prime grazing grounds for deer, because the grass is short and sweet. However, deer are at their most vulnerable when they're eating. That's why they do it so quickly. The chances of us finding grazing deer by accident is slim to none. That's why if we find a place like this, we usually set up camp and wait for the deer to come to us."

Anton retreated from the small clearing, going back into the forest a few feet, before turning to Nate.

"We don't want to make camp too close to the clearing. We do that, the deer will smell us, or smell our fire, or worse, just flat-out see us, and they'll bolt faster than you can say, 'oops!'. We want to have our camp a bit away from the area, and we want our fire to be easier to put out, so that we can quickly collapse it if we need to."

Anton directed Nate to gather firewood, while he himself set up to create the fire pit. When Nate returned, Anton directed his son's attention to what he was doing. Finding a fairly level, clear area, Anton used the kukri to break the earth, then used a nearby rock to dig out a small pit in the ground, about a hand and a half in depth, with as smooth a bowl-shape as he could manage. Nate watched with interest as his father placed the delicate tinder in the center of the pit, striking the steel against flint to produce a spark, then blowing on the tinder to make it catch.

When the small orange flame flickered to life, Anton placed the larger branches over the pit, until the fire was crackling cheerfully and the older, experienced hunter smiled at the warmth and indicated that Nate should join him sitting about the fire.

"Fire is probably one of the most important things to have out here in the wilds," Anton said, and Nate just nodded. "Making a fire-pit like this will serve you well out here, because if we really needed to put it out, you just have to kick some dirt over it to snuff it, then stomp on it to bury it. Then kick more dirt onto it to completely suffocate the fire, and if necessary you can be extra-sure by dousing it with water."

Nate could feel drowsiness come upon him, but his father shook him gently awake. "Don't sleep out here," he cautioned. Despite his relatively calm appearance, Anton was quite alert, ears always listening for the slightest sound, nose always sniffing for urine trails or the distinctive odor of scat, all of which indicated recent predator activity. Nate looked up wearily at his father, whose impassive face was still staring into the fire.

"There are all manner of beasts in the woods," Anton explained, "and they all want to eat you. If you must sleep, try to do it in a tree."

"A tree?" Nate squeaked, his voice cracking a bit as it was his first words in a few bells. Anton just nodded.

"Most of the predators, like wolves and cougars, can't climb too well, so you should be relatively safe from them. Panthers can climb but, well, you can't actually be safe out here, so. At least you'll be safer, and that's really the most you can hope for."

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate frowned, as he stared into the fire. His father had dug this pit; Nate considered if he'd have been able to do it himself, given the right tools. Then Nate briefly wondered why his father hadn't asked him to build the fire himself, given how important he claimed fire to be. In any case, his curious mind came up with another question. "Hey, dad, how come we didn't follow that deer trail from before?" he asked, and Anton looked up in surprise. He hadn't actually expected Nate to even really remember that deer trail.

"We could have," he admitted. "But oftentimes those trails lead you all over the map, and sometimes even right back to where you were. Ultimately, it's usually a better idea to find a watering hole or a grazing ground, and wait for the animals to come to you. Finding a trail like that is mainly useful for knowing you're searching for watering holes or grazing grounds in the right general area to begin with."

Anton shrugged slightly. "Of course, it's no guarantee. It's just that... well, truthfully, we could follow a trail like that and not stumble upon much of anything. If we're fortunate, the trail actually leads to a watering hole or a grazing ground, but other times it just leads to a dead-end, or to a location with harder soil that doesn't take prints so well."

Nate sighed. It kind of made sense. Once you'd found the trail, following it had few guarantees because the animal that made it might've been gone for bells if not days. Recent activity, though, meant that any nearby watering holes or grazing areas were probably still in use, and were worth stalking. Like they were doing now. Anton put a finger to his lips and indicated that he and Nate should get up. Quietly kicking dirt into the fire, Anton snuffed it, before stomping on it gently and pushing more dirt to fully bury the fire. No need to risk a forest fire, after all.

Father and son quietly made their way to the small grassy clearing that Anton had discovered earlier. The sun was now high in the sky, and Anton knew this was usually when deer liked to feed. Animals in general, he knew, were creatures of habit, and it was a lesson he'd drilled into his son's head repeatedly. It was something one needed to remember whenever hunting: to learn the habits of the creatures you wish to hunt so as to understand how to take advantage of those habits.

But in this case, Anton wanted to make sure that Nate got in some practice. So, he quietly removed his bow and handed it to his son, along with an arrow. Nate looked up at his father, eyes wide. What was his father thinking?! There was no way he could possibly hit anything; he'd just learned how to do this! But Anton was insistent, pushing the weapon into his son's hands. He knew that the only way to improve was to do, and the best way to do was out here in a real situation. After all, there was only so many times you could shoot at a stationary target. Sooner or later you had to try against the real thing.

Nate planted his feet into the ground, as the deer that was grazing in the clearing continued to munch away. He took a few breaths, before setting his shoulder like his father had taught, making sure to keep the bow straight and level, comparing it to the trunks of the trees in the background to ensure that it was. Pulling the string back, Nate sighted down his right eye, making sure to keep his breathing steady so as not to unbalance himself or ruin his aim.

It was a full half-chime before he released the arrow, and it shot across the field and landed a few feet away from the deer, which sprinted away. Nate snarled in frustration, looking angrily up at his father as though blaming the man for his missed shot.

"What's the point of this?!" Nate shouted, eyes blazing as he glared mournfully at the missed arrow sticking out of the ground as though mocking him. Anton sighed, indicating that Nate should follow him as he went to retrieve the errant missile.

"The point, Nathaniel, is that pretty much every shot you fire from now until a few years from now will miss," Anton replied. "But that doesn't mean they're not still valuable. Every time you pull the string, you're feeling the shot. You're learning how the arrow and string feels when you pull them, and how a certain feeling when you aim takes the arrow this way or that way. It's the only way to get better, son. One miss at a time."

[Nathaniel Deveraux]

Nate wasn't sure what his father was getting at, but it sure seemed like one miss at a time would be the slowest possible route to victory. He understood the value of practice since he'd seen his own skills at archery improve from that first time he'd held a bow and couldn't even get the string straight, but that didn't mean that shooting pointless arrows at deer when he knew he couldn't hit was at all a good use of their time, at least in his mind. But Anton just grunted and put the arrow back into his quiver and took the bow back from his son.

"Well, alright," Anton announced, pointing out to the small clearing. "Since our guest has left for the day, why don't we go over and see what we can see?" Nate sighed and followed his father over to the place where the deer had been grazing, and as far as he could tell it was just grass, grass, and more grass everywhere. But his father was suggesting that he bend down to take a look at the ground, so Nate did so.

But all he could find were the bits of grasses that the animal had undoubtedly been chewing on, along with a few prints where it had been standing. Anton was silent, which meant he expected Nate to explain what it was that happened here, just from the evidence, and the young boy huffed in frustration. How was he supposed to know what a deer was thinking?! He wasn't a deer!

The grasses had been grazed but not severely. Which probably meant that the deer in the area weren't too numerous. Well, at least that's what Nate thought that meant. Maybe it just meant that it was too early in the season and this wasn't their normal grazing grounds for this time of year. He didn't know and making guesses wasn't going to help. But the reason Anton wanted him to look at this was very clear: he wanted Nate to see what was actually there, not make guesses at what wasn't.

So there were actually more tracks than just the one that the deer that had run off had made. All that really meant was that there were more than one deer that frequented this feeding ground at least in the recent past. He could see the other tracks off in the distance, joining with the one of the deer that he'd just missed, but the ground was uneven and the tracks rather wandered off, and all he could really conclude was that this was in fact actually a feeding ground for deer. Which since the fact that they'd actually seen a deer, felt like it was kind of obvious.

Nate looked around still further to see what else he could glean. Anton, in the meantime, had drawn his kukri and was examining its blade while waiting for Nate. The gleam of the weapon caught Nate's eye and he watched his father's knife in fascination, before shaking his head and returning his attention to the tracks before him.

He supposed the other thing to note was the semicircular shape of the tracks themselves, quite unique and easy to recognize, although he was sure he wouldn't know the difference between this and any other hooved animal. He supposed he'd just have to get used to reading these tracks so that he'd be able to tell at a glance what exact sort of prey he was chasing, but as it was the only reason he knew these tracks were deer was because he'd actually seen it before it left the tracks.

Anton finally decided enough was enough and stood, indicating that Nate should follow. "I think it's time we go home, son," he announced, and indicated that Nate should be the one to lead them. Nate grumbled and looked about. Then up at Syna's face. He knew she would be setting soon, and when she did he knew they'd be in a lot of trouble. But despite the fact that his father had told him multiple times how to find his way back, he still was just so bad at navigation.

"I... I'm not sure how to get back, dad," Nate finally admitted. Anton sighed. He couldn't keep being the one to lead them back. That just wouldn't work, and besides it was crucial that Nate learn his own way back. Leading him to one of the trees, Anton showed him a tiny crosshatch mark, four pairs of lines intersecting one another.

"These are hunter's marks, Nathaniel," Anton explained. "We use them when we get lost. Hunter's marks are used on landmark trees, and large immobile objects like boulders, to help us find our way. Look for them first, and remember to make a few of your own if you pass any unmarked landmark that would help in navigation. The woods can be confusing, but if you mark it well, it does not have to be."

Nate couldn't understand how stupid little lines on trees were going to help them find their way home, but Anton seemed to understand, as he used the map of where these marked items were in relation to each other, and then in relation to the forest, to produce a rough map in his head, which he then used to navigate his way, seemingly by magic to Nate, out of the woods. With the fortress city in view in the distance, Anton turned to Nate and shrugged.

"Next time, Nathaniel, I expect you to tell me which of those trees and boulders are marked. So I hope you remembered the path we took, because you're going to retrace it."

Nate groaned. Great. This was looking to be just a fantastic week.

~Fin~

[Orion Michaels]

Grade on Hold
Nate, I understand that you've been enslaved in Endrykas, but you still have to account for your living expenses in your ledger. If a master is taking care of it, then please note who it is and put it in your ledger as though you were paying them yourself, only subtract 0. When this is completed let me know so we can get to getting you delicious XPs.