Primitive Instinct: The Journey Home

When the hunter returned, there was an older female and a young girl with him. He spoke to the female and gestured to his back where my bruise was and then pointed at my arm. After he was done, the female pushed him out of the tent and came over to start stripping my clothes off of me.

“Hey! Buy me dinner first,” I protested and tried to avoid her, but she was deceptively fast, and I was soon standing in nothing but my bra and undies, which seemed to confuse the woman before those, too, came off.

I was inspected and there was an assortment of bruises discovered before the female sent the child running from the tent with what I assumed were orders. She kept inspecting me, poking at certain places before moving along until the girl returned with a small stone mortar and pestle, a small leather pouch, and some water.

I tilted my head slightly as I watched the female pinch a small bit of what looked like dried herbs into the mortar and the child put her whole body into grinding it with the pestle as the female added a small bit of water, creating a paste. I wasn’t entirely sure what was going to happen with that, but I hoped it didn’t involve me ingesting it because it looked like something that came back up after Diesel ate too much grass.

I didn’t have to wait long before my answer came in the form of being painted with the paste on every bruise until the female was satisfied and gestured for me to get dressed as she and the child cleaned up. I barely managed to pull my shirt on again before the hunter stepped inside and I pursed my lips, making him chuckle and shrug before he tossed some bits of wood on the fire to keep it burning then laid on his bed, his arm over his face.

Diesel looked at me and yawned before moving back to his chosen spot by the fire and I looked at the bed the hunter had made for me before laying on it. It wasn’t the Four Seasons, by any means, but it was a hell of a lot more comfortable than the cold ground had been last night and I was drifting off quickly.

It felt like no time at all had passed before the hunter was shaking my shoulder gently to wake me up and I pushed the heavy fur off as I sat up, rubbing my gritty eyes.

He put a smooth wooden cup filled with tea and a chunk of dried meat into my hands and I looked over to find Diesel happily gnawing away at his own breakfast before I started eating. I felt stiff, like you’d expect after getting slammed around by whatever the heck happened that ended up with me here and not in Texas and then hiking through soft snow and finally thawing out after being half frozen for most of the past two days. But I was warm, and the dried meat was tough and needing some kind of seasoning, but it was filling my belly and there was a hot drink involved. My lot in life had improved a great deal and I was immeasurably grateful.

Once I was finished with the meat I stared at the fire as I drank the tea slowly, wondering where I could be where mammoths were alive, and the people weren’t humans. I mean, I knew that scientists were hellbent on splicing the DNA of extinct species into the DNA of the closest living relatives of the extinct species. I didn’t think they’d be far enough along that ill-advised path of experimentation to be actually creating living specimens. Plants, maybe but mammoths? No.

The hunter spoke and I looked at him as he put a paw on his chest and repeated himself, slower.

“Roar’kaol’tok?” I tried, frowning at the unfamiliar words and he smiled and nodded, tapping his paw on his chest again. “Your name? Roar’kaol’tok?”

He pointed towards me, and I snorted.

“Fern,” I answered and looked like he was expecting more. I pointed to myself. “Fern.”

“Fern?” he frowned and shook his head.

“Fern,” I nodded and then pointed to Diesel. “Diesel.”

“Diesel,” the hunter said slowly, looking at the big pooch as he licked his paws where he had been holding his breakfast. Got to be sure to get it all, right? “Fern.”

I nodded and he sighed, looking up. Clearly, something was exasperating him. I was a regular recipient of that look, mostly because Rudy was not great with kids. Or explaining things. I had to guess at lot, living with him.

“Fern’mak’tak,” he pointed to me and nodded with finality, like he just did something monumental.

“I never did care for the last name Franks, so... Fern’mak’tak,” I nodded. “Much better.”

The hunter motioned for me to get up and then handed me my boots with an odd look on his face.

“I don’t have fur you know,” I gestured to his feet and he lifted one slightly, wiggling his toes slightly. “Fancy feet.”

I pulled my boots on and grabbed my jacket, knowing it would do very little, but it would be better than not having anything. I followed the hunter, Roar’kaol’tok, out of the tent and through the village. Thankfully, the snow here was packed down so it was easy enough to keep up now. We made our way through the village and Roar’kaol’tok stopped at a few places and spoke with some people before slapping paws with them and gesturing for me to follow him once again outside of the village.

I noticed, finally, that he had a type of sharpened bone ax hanging from the corded leather belt that held his pants up and I looked towards the distant trees that I assumed was our destination. None of it would burn and it would take too long for it to dry out enough to actually be used as firewood, so I assumed he was on a mission of another sort. I didn’t mind tagging along but I felt... useless. Especially when I started sinking into the softer snow after we left the more traveled and packed down snow of the village.

“I need snowshoes, Diesel,” I puffed from exertion and looked down to see the dog looking up at me like he did during the many training sessions we had. He was asking what it was I wanted done. “You have big paws, buddy. They don’t sink so deep.”

He looked at his paws then at the hunters before looking back at me, tilting his head again.

“Yes, I need paws. I can make them, but I need material,” I rolled my eyes and he barked and bounded to catch up with the hunter, leaving me huffing and puffing away like I was about to give birth or take a wicked shit.

Roar’koal’tok and Diesel stopped, looking at each other before my dog whined and looked at me. He opened his mouth, hanging his tongue out and I knew that look. He never just hung his tongue out of his mouth unless he was about to do something and wouldn’t listen when I told him not to. Like chase after the poodle that he wanted to screw every trip to the dog park. It was why I was glad the law required shelters to spay or neuter pets that passed through their doors.

I sighed and waved my hand, telling him to go ahead and get it over with and he started talking again. Twice in as many days. There was something going on with my dog because he’s been acting very much not himself since we got to the woods in Texas before taking off on me.

He yowled and howled and pretty much yodeled at the hunter, who was tilting his head from side to side while his pupils kept dilating from smaller to huge and back again. I frowned, looking between the two of them until Diesel stopped. To my utter shock, the hunter nodded and spoke back to Diesel like he could understand that noise.

“Hold on!” I exclaimed, rushing and stumbling over to them. “You can understand each other?”

I pointed to my mouth then between the two of them and the hunter made a face and held his paws together, leaving a very small gap between them.

“A little? You understand each other a little?” I asked, looking between them some more with wide eyes. The hunter nodded and Diesel tilted his head. “Diesel! You wonderful brainiac!”

I threw my arms around my dog and kissed his furry cheek, making him grumble and poke his cold, wet nose into my ear.

“Ew!” I wiped at it and the hunter chuckled and gestured from my feet to his and tilted his head. “Oh. snowshoes.”

I broke a twig off a nearby barren tree and knelt in the snow to draw out what I was talking about. It needed to be a basic oval shape and when I drew the binding between the two sides of the frame, I pointed to my laces. The hunter nodded thoughtfully before looking around. After a second, he held up a paw before dropping to all fours and running through the snow back to the village.

“Well, that was interesting to see,” I said, watching him growing more distant.