Scavenging

[hemomancy 2835]

Missing Pieces (hearing vacancy, feeling absence, seeing voids), Teagen White

 

Off the one went on her way; alone. The figure wore dark clothes, leathers and cloth, brown fur draped around her shoulders. Around her belt were small pockets, with small jars inside each. They were filled with various medicines and herbs; those filled with no medicine were only filled with flowers. She was thin and lanky, face pallid and framed by dark hair- nearly black, not yet just a hint of brown. Her eyes were squinted, curious with a glint, and the color of a fine wine.

 

Around her was only ice and snow, swirling round and round. She knew of course, this would not do. To the west she had to be, and so she began her trek.

 

She ended in plains; ones that edged the jungle and swamplands, humid and with an air near thick as soup. She looked around for specific items… the carcass of a deer, and the fresh remains of birds- crows, to be specific. She had items in mind, clothing and a mask. A mask made of the skull of the deer, and a cloak made with the cool tones of the crows feather.

 

Those items were scarce, yet she hunted for such anyways; scavenging, truly, for it was what she was most skilled with. She passed ponds, berries, flowers and other plants alike. How it would have been beautiful, if the rotting carcass of a deer hadn’t been set in front of her. Flies surrounded it, most flesh picked away from overtime from the critters and other creatures around. Perfect. She found it odd, the horns did not branch out like another; rather they curled. She could see why such a creature would die; how it could not protect itself, deformed and set to die from the start.

 

She picked up the skull by the horn, inspecting it. Disgusting. Yet it was her prize.

 

Continuing with the skull within her arms; luckily gloved, for she hated the touch of anything that was not clean. “Hush.” She murmured, as nobody was near her. As she went along, she searched more, more for her next findings.

 

And now she found it; one crow, then two, which increased into the teens. A murder, in both senses. The girl wondered how all had passed; was there a poison in the air? Or perhaps, simply water tainted by the descendants. She went on to collect the crows, gathering them together. All gathered in front of a stone, just for her to sit down upon said stone and get to work. One-by-one each feather was plucked, plucked from each bird unto a pile that slowly grew. She knew not how long she had sat, minutes, hours had passed.

 

She made no noise besides the snapping noise each pluck made, before ceasing. She saw her eyes glazing over, and she paid no mind.

 

Eventually, she felt herself return- upon her lap were a cloak of these feathers, glossy akin to an oil spill. She knew not how she made such… another, it must have been. Perhaps, perhaps not all were terrible. The girl shifted, placing the cloak round her shoulders as she'd finished.

 

Now next was the skull, where in some places a thin layer of rotting, jerky-like flesh clung to the ivory bone. She retrieved a dagger, scraping off the remains. And she began carving into the skull, making it so it may fit her head… It took many hours yet again, night passed and day broke. She missed the stars in the sky, head craned down whilst etching away. Of course she may need help in the future; perhaps her uncle, or aunt, who may aid her in finalizing this; rounding it, adding straps.

 

But this girl was satisfied, and began her way home. She’d grab berries along her way, snacking on them; she could at least tell the differences between those healthy and those poisonous, even grabbing some poisonous ones and placing them into pouches.

 

At a keep she arrived with her prizes, the cloak and near complete mask.

At last, all were proud.