He swings me around like I'm a kid, hoisting me sideways as he leans into the tent and messes with something.
After a heavy chunk he pushes the flap of the tent and lays me onto a rough blanket on the ground.
"Yeh jus' stay 'ere, I gotta go bak' an' chop up da' kill. Don' try an' leave, an' don' touch nutin'!"
A groan is the best I can manage before he tramples off into the woods again.
Rolling around trying to get comfortable is pointless, this blanket is barely better than dirt.
When I hold still the creeping burn on my arm comes back.
Moving is like ripping it back open.
Just gotta focus on something else…The tent is basic, leather bags, a little box.
The entrance is a spiderweb of string all knotted together with knives and a bear trap, even if I wanted to leave…or move…Touching it is off my bucket list.
Some birds and bugs are outside making noise. I don't want the quiet, but the sound pisses me off too.
Moving…not moving…quiet…noise…laying here in this hot fucking tent, sweating my ass off, I can't even strip.
God…The money I owe Lirien was so worth it…I wish he was here…
Time just holds still, now and then I hear stomping outside, grunting and thumping. Drashka yells asking if I'm alive, I grunt, he runs off again.
Once, twice, five, six, who knows how many times.
I'm just melting away…burning and melting…waiting for death to take me away from all this bullshit…
At least…
Lyria will enjoy the story…
There's a sudden clang and I'm very awake.
"Hoi! Goki! C'mon no mor' toime fa' lazin'"
The tent flap opens and the light from outside burns like fire. I roll and cover my arm on instinct.
Drashka laughs before pulling some silky cloth from the little box, "Ahh roight ya' prob'ly sore, 'ere lemme get'cha sumthin' to cova' up afore ya' come see ya' kill."
He flips me without even trying, pulling my arm out and pressing the soft white cloth against it.
Pushing and kicking against him doesn't help me at all. He ties it in place while I argue.
"Just ask dammit! I'm not a little dolly you can dance around!"
He keeps tying, I can hear his smile, "I kno' ya' tough, but ya' ain' stronga' den me yet, so ya' gotta dance a lil' whoile I 'elp ya'."
Struggling is work, might as well just give up.
The cloth is cool, he grabs a little bottle of gooey pale green stuff and rubs it on the outside of the cloth and the pain disappears.
Feels like I slept on the floor waiting to die for nothing now.
"If you had that the whole time why not do it right away!?"
"Had ta' go git da' body, an' ya' wern' screamin' or nutin'"
I sit up slowly, then push hard to stand up. My arm feels ok enough now, no point in getting upset "...well thanks anyway…"
He just nods and waves me outside like a little kid ready to show off a new toy.
We push through the flap of the tent and I nearly jump, the monster is outside. Chopped into big chunks, the legs, head and body. He must have dragged it here while I was in the tent.
The sun is still pretty high in the sky…shit it's only been a few hours I bet.
It's huge, even in pieces, the fur has some lighter stripes on it, it's a lot softer than I would have expected.
It's hard to believe I helped take it down now that I see the teeth and the horns up close. But the big hole where it's eye used to be is all the proof anyone would need.
Drashka grabs the horns and shakes the head a bit, "all rought, take a sit, I'ma clean dis' up an' chop all da' good bitz, you got da' kill, so you can relax…tell me sum' stories or sumthin' whoile I work."
He took out a chunky knife, a hammer, and some little tools before hacking at the horns. The skin and meat slipped away like it was never meant to be there. The bones crack and pop but come off looking like trophies. It's amazing the way he can rip it apart without destroying it.
Drashka grunts at me, shit–right, stories.
Nothing I think of matches up with the fight today, so I'll just wing it.
"So when I was like eight years old, my mom walked me to school–"
He stops dead.
"Wut? Loike yer rich? Schoolin' as a lil' boy…dey teech ya' numbers and readin', all dat?"
The talk shifts gears completely, suddenly EVERY story I told was more interesting then the fight today.
"...The food and drinks can be hot or cold and they sell it from a box…"
I throw up my arms, trying to make the world exciting.
"...And the trains can carry hundreds of people…"
Drashka slowed down and started paying more attention to me than the work.
"...So loike it's a big paintin', but it moves…ahh 'Movies' dat's cleva…"
Suddenly the sun is almost down, the monster is taken apart, piles of meat, bones and fur.
He starts a fire and gets cooking while I try to think of more things to share. I don't think anyone has ever looked so interested in my life.
Handing me a bowl of meat and greens, he sits across the fire from me, "Ah'maizen, I woulda paid fa' healin' jus to 'ear all dis…no foightin', no magic, jus' humins…but it sounds ah'maizen."
Can't help but laugh a little, this big tough warrior is impressed by rides to school on the bus. He's strong, knows how to fight, probably gets all the girls.
Standing up with a big breath, I gotta try and play it cool, "If…you wanted to hear more about Japan, I'll tell you, but in exchange, show me how to be strong like you, Aniki!"
Should I bow? He's not formal…but is it disrespectful…shit I should have planned this out a little.
He just keeps eating, tilting his head and humming like he's deciding what to have for dessert. His green eyes meet mine through the slits in his helmet, he winks and busts out laughing.
"Soun's fun! Firs' lessin', we gotta pain'cha skin green…pfft hahaha–jus' kiddin', keep sharin' stories wit' me an' I'll 'elp ya get strong, ya' got the basics wit'out tryin', so it'z a good start."
My cheeks are burning, his teasing is pissing me off, but I can't help but smile.
Aniki rummages around his tent and brings out a beat up metal jug, "Since ya' gonna be strong loike me, ya' gonna drink loike me, take ah sip."
As soon as he pops the lid off, my nose hairs burn away. It's not cheap booze, it's rubbing alcohol. He takes a fat swig and holds it out to me like it's a cup of cool water.
This is a chance to show off, I know how to drink. The jug is heavier than I expected, like lifting a dumbbell. I hold my breath but the fumes burn my nose and sting my eyes anyway.
The booze is thick and syrupy, the first gulp goes down easily. It barely has a flavor but it's a little sweet.
Suddenly Aniki rips the jug from my hand.
"Ahhh don' go chugin' it', ah taste is all ya' need, try not ta' pass out."
He must not think I can handle it, but I'm not a chump. I reach out…waaaaaay out…all the way across the whoooole fire…
Wait…when did Aniki get on this side…oh well I'll sit with him, he's awesome…
He keeps talking about drinking, and something about…drinking…I think…It's hard to listen to it all, he talks too fast.
Sitting is boring…I wanna do something fun…show Aniki i know how to be fun.
"Aahhni'ki! Let's dance!"
Singing and dancing! That's how, that's how I'll show him, my moves are the best, I can drink…and dance…and fight…He seems pretty impressed, he keeps laughing.
"Doze da' moves ya' use ta' get all dem girls eh?"
He gets it.
"Damn right iz…how I do it–awoahh"
Ohh shit, I fell…But gotta keep dancing…I…I'm fun…Right Aniki…right…?