Hard Core Chapter Three

Timothy and Anoir travel through a jungle and Timothy learns how to catch fish without a net or rod.

“I’m so hungry!” Timothy moaned. He clutched his stomach as he staggered down the path that had been created for him.

Anoir rolled her eyes and pushed aside another low-hanging vine. Her stomach had been rumbling for the past hour but there was nothing she could do about it until they found a clearing.

 “We’ll stop soon.” She promised as she climbed over a fallen tree. Even the moss on the rotting bark looked delicious right now.

She ignored the hunger pangs, concentrating on the trickling sound in the distance. It was almost hidden amongst the screech of local wildlife.

She headed towards it, weaving her way through the undergrowth almost silently.

There was a heavy thud far behind her. Anoir sighed and turned back, this time clearing a path for Timothy. She’d forgotten the boy was following her. Again.

There was another thud as she reached the fallen log she’d cleared so easily. She lifted herself up and took a look over. Timothy was lying winded on the ground.

“Need some help?” she asked, dropping down the other side.

The boy shook his head. “I can do it!”

Anoir leant against the log and watched, amused, as the boy took a running leap and managed to beach himself on the obstacle. Legs flailing he somehow scrambled up the rest of the way and promptly fell down the other side.

Anoir hauled herself over and landed with cat-like grace beside the kid. “Well done.” She said sarcastically.

He beamed up at her, proud.

She shook her head and headed back down the path she’d made. Hacking through the next wall of plants she reached the clearing where the sound was coming from.

Before her stretched a stream, cluttered with broken branches and buzzing with nonchalant insects. A glimmer of light reflected off the scales of some dark fish drifting casually through the water.

Anoir smiled at the sight.

“Timothy.” She whispered. “Stay very-“

“Hey look, water!” Timothy cried and rushed past her towards the stream.

The fish scattered.

Anoir squeezed her eyes shut and counted to ten. When she opened them Timothy was slurping water noisily from his cupped hands.

She crouched down beside the boy and resisted the urge to push him in. “Feel better?”

He nodded empathetically and tried to offer her the remaining water in his hands. She pushed them away.

“Good, now go find some firewood. And keep quiet. I’m hunting.”

Timothy leapt to his feet and began searching the clearing for dry sticks. Anoir lay flat on her stomach at the water’s edge and waited. Slowly, the fish returned.

When one was close enough for her to make eye contact she slid her hand into the water. It continued to float, unconcerned. Extending her fingers she began to stroke it’s white underbelly. For what seemed like an eternity she just lay there, fingers tickling fishy flesh. Then, without warning, she sent it flying through the air with a flick of her wrist. It landed on the grass near Timothy’s feet and lay there wriggling. He let out a little gasp of surprise.

Anoir slid her hand out of the water carefully and drew her knife. In one swift move she drove the blade through its head, killing it instantly.

“Okay.” She breathed. “Your turn.”

Timothy looked nonplussed.

“Just tickle them first and you can throw them out of the water easy.” She explained.

Timothy scuttled down to the water’s edge and crouched, reaching out for the nearest fish.

It darted away when it saw the hand coming.

“From underneath.” She hissed to him as she began scaling her catch.

“Oh.” The boy submerged his arm and reached for the fish again. It bobbed in the current, slowly moving to the other side of the bank. Timothy leaned out further until it grazed the tips of his fingers. Face scrunched up in concentration he leant out as far as he could. And fell in.

Anoir shook her head and smiled to herself.

Timothy resurface, an idiotic grin plastered across his face. Staggering out of the stream he raised his prize.

“I don’t believe it.” Anoir said flatly. “You caught one.”

Timothy raised the fish above his head. “I am the greatest!”

The fish wriggled free, smacking the boy in the face as it fell back into the water.

“The greatest is going hungry.” Anoir commented.

“I’ve got this!” Timothy cried, wading through the now-empty stream. “I can do it!”

Anoir watched, half-amused and half-embarrassed as the boy continued to hunt for his long-gone lunch.

“You can share mine.” She called out to the sodden boy. He climbed out, shivering in the cool breeze.

“Here.” She handed him her thick black jacket. He put it on gratefully.

“It’s to cover your pants.” She corrected him. “I can see right through them.”

Timothy looked down and blushed when he saw his white trousers had his blue undies on display. He sat down and draped the jacket across his lap, embarrassed.

“I guess that’s why you wear black pants, huh?”

“It’s one of the reasons.” She agreed as she started a fire. Slowly the boy began to dry out and the fish were soon cooked.

“It wasn’t exactly tropical in that town. Why don’t you have a jumper or something?” Anoir asked. “And where’s everything else? Did St Thingy’s just kick you out empty-handed?”

Timothy chewed his mouthful of fish carefully before answering. He’d swallowed some bones with his first bite. “I had lots of stuff, but the bandits took it.” He looked up from the fish, face full of innocent honesty. “Thanks for saving me.”

         Anoir let the curtain of dark brown hair fall between them.

“It’s what I do.” She muttered.

         “Bandits are really mean. I’m glad I found someone nice like you.” He went on.

         “Yeah, you sure were lucky.” She responded, ignoring the tiny stab of guilt.

         “Why would they do that anyway?”

“Because they’re bandits. They think it’s fun to push people around. Steal their stuff. Mess up their lives.”

“Good thing there’s people like you then.”

“Yeah. Good thing.” She said so quietly it was more of a whisper than a statement.

“So where we heading?” he asked brightly.

Anoir swept the hair behind her ear, meeting his bright blue eyes. “There should be a town about a day's walk from here. People on the road say there’s been lots of trouble with bandits round there.”

“Then let’s go teach them the way of the Gods!” Timothy leapt to his feet, ready to charge into the undergrowth once more.

“Hold up. I gotta put out the fire first.”

“Okay! I’m gunna explore.”

Anoir left the boy to his exploration of the clearing and knelt down beside the stream once more. Leaning over she cupped her hands and filled them with water. In the afternoon light a tan girl with thin lips, dark green eyes and long straight brown hair squinted back at her. She poked her tongue out at her reflection and threw the handful of water onto the fire, dousing it.

“Timothy!” she called to the boy. “Jacket.”

The boy jogged back to where she stood waiting and passed her the slightly damp piece of clothing. To his amazement she removed it’s arms, wrapping one around her waist as a makeshift belt and tying the other around her head like a scarf. Shrugging on the new vest she’d created she then picked up the remaining dry sticks and slid them between the back of her red singlet and the vest.

“Is that a backpack?” Timothy asked, astounded.

“Yah.” Anoir wriggled around until the sticks were sitting comfortably. “I made it myself.”

“That’s so cool!” the boy cried. “I’m gunna do that!” He proceeded to pull off his normal blue shirt and try to knot it into something impossible.

“It’s fine. Let’s get going.”

“To adventure!” Timothy declared, still shirtless, and marched forward.

Author's Note

Click the image icon beside the title to see how Anoir's outfit works.

Reviews

[The Nude Writer]

Great story :) you clearly put a lot of thought into this one :)