2, Summer, 514 AV
Chayton was finally beginning the ritual initiation for the Rujaro. He had sold his horse just yesterday, gathered very few items he thought he'd need during the survival test from the marketplace. Now, he was finally headed towards the swamps. It wouldn't be too bad right? He arrived in Kenash during the spring and was able to survive in the swamp before, at least, that was until he met Ross and tried to save him. During and after that, he set up camp, not too far from the plantations, by the Ki River. Although it was much more pleasant to live there, he'd have to move on and into the swamps. He had waited long enough. He spent a few days after the death of the small boy, too distressed to even think about joining the Rujaro right away. However, he had plenty of time to clear his head. He even talked to the wind, lonely and wishing that his beloved friend, Shaba, was here with him. He figured that Shaba would want to make friends, and survive. The more the merrier was what she would have said to him. Plus death was less of a problem with others to work with.
Chayton swung his backpack all around, his shoulder a bit sore from carrying the load on just one shoulder, switching it to the other. He thought about how it was hard to walk in the swamps, his foot sinking before he could even put down his other foot. That was the trick to walking in the gunk, once one foot is about to hit the mud, the other foot should be already trying to lift itself out. It was loads of energy wasted by just walking. There it was, the line of foliage just beyond him a few yards away. He was huffing and puffing by the time he reached the stinking fauna and mossy trees. The swamps may be more prominent in the trees but it scaled far into the marsh-like plains. He raised his arms to hold the branches and use less weight on his feet. He was thanking the gods that he could rest his legs by holding onto the thick branches for a little bit. He'd test every step in front of him before continuing to walk, each hand taking a firm grip on the branches just above him. Chayton noticed that the further he continued into the swamp, the higher the mud came up his legs. He might have to start climbing from tree to tree to be safe. Who knew what sort of beast could be hiding in the murky waters?
Chayton pulled on the branch, pulling himself towards the trunk of the tree. The tree's middle part was so low, it looked like it was four different trees that were glued together at the bottom. He lifted himself into the middle part, and took a minute to breath, checking his surroundings. To think he'd have to survive at least a week here... He'd have to find a place to make shelter soon so he could try and hunt for food before dark.
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