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Umbra stared emptily, then to Tristia. He turned his head around.
The shelter. Their inventory. Their conditions. Even down to his throbbing head. Everything matched perfectly and missing arm. But, could he trust really trust her?
He turned to her again.
She maintained eye contact with him. “Uh… you’re okay?” She noticed that his eyes were clear. The fog surrounded his mind was gone. “Umbra?” she reached for him.
He jolted, then leaned backward, avoiding her.
“O… kay…”
“Resgh…” he lay down, facing her with his back.
“You ain’t going to eat?”
He shook his head.
“Alright… uh, I’ll smoke the other birds then.”
Tristia stared at the fire, where half a rib of a bird sat by the fire.
The other half, alongside four others, were cut thinly and hung above the fire to preserve them longer.
She sighed in relieve.
They had enough food for short term.
However, she couldn’t help but worry for Umbra. She couldn’t force him to do anything. At least not for now.
The bird’s meat was tough and bland, but the toasty scent of leaves, herbs, and nuts helped with the taste.
She nodded, satisfied. For what they had, it was decent.
Often time, she stared to Umbra’s back. She opened her mouth and paused.
The words stuck in her throat.
She lowered her head and sighed. Giving him time might help.
Tristia returned after dismantling the trap.
Umbra did not even move.
She took a deep breath and just lay on her side of the shelter. Tomorrow perhaps…
At that very night, Umbra rolled around.
“Grh… hr…” he got up slowly, using his tails to raise his torso.
He looked to Tristia, sleeping.
He took the staff then moved his tails and coiled them to the roots. “Gr…” he slowly got up and walked to the entrance.
A soft breeze greeted him.
He closed his eyes, enjoying the breeze.
Then, he opened his eyes. His pupil dilated, glowing in the dark night.
He tried to walk without the support of his tails.
“Gh!” he immediately fall to his knee. “Agh… whargh… hagh… pegg… whargh…” what came out of his mouth was barely even audible.
He tried once again, but his legs barely even moved.
“Gh… rgh…” he panted, trying to calm himself down before going for another shot.
However, everytime, the result was always the same.
Eventually, he gave up, exhausted.
He lay down on his side, resting his shivering legs.
After a while, he tried again, now with the support of his tails. “Grh…” he exhaled loudly and then slowly stood up.
He crawled to the shelter, bitter.
There was nothing else he could do.
“You alright?” Tristia got up, probably awoken by his loud grunt.
He looked up to the legless woman.
While his mind barely remembered her, she looked so familiar.
He stared at her missing legs.
He took a deep breath then nodded.
“Good… look, it ain’t easy to accept, not with you fuckin’ randomly froze and lost your memories…” she sighed, “but, you got to be persistent, eh?”
“Whargh…?”
“Well…” she moved away as he sat down slowly, “I am fuckin legless, Umbra. I ain’t want to die here, not in this bloody hell hole… and to be honest, you’re my only fuckin’ hope.”
He looked at her.
“I know we’re practically strangers in your head, but… just… get on for now…” she sighed. “Let me be a bit selfish, eh?”
He exhaled.
“Look, if you wanna talk to me, just talk. I’ll try to understand.”
He shook his head, then pointed at her.
“You want… me to talk?”
He nodded.
“Alright…” she sighed. “Well… for start, my name is Tristia… you remember that? Or just snarky crossbow woman?”
“Trigsh… tih… agh…?”
“Sun’s balls…” she widened her eyes, “I don’t think you can speak my name… that’s a new one. Just Tris is okay.”
“Trigsh…?”
“Yeah, easier than the whole name, eh?” she leaned back. “So… just talk on my mind or what?” she stared at him.
He pointed to her, “Cogsh…”
“Well…” she paused, “um… what the bloody fuck… I ain’t talking about myself since fuckin’ forever…” she grunted, “and my life ain’t that interesting, eh? I uh, came from Bone Mountain… you know the place?”
He nodded. “Sangh…”
“Sang? Oh, sand… well, yeah, it’s a bloody desert…” she paused. “But… you travel a lot… remember something?”
He shrugged.
“Of course you don’t remember,” she sighed. “But… still remember Gray Jumper?”
He tilted his head, trying to remember the name.
“Big gray spiders? Underground nest? They could lunge at you from far away?”
He nodded.
“I reckon you came there to hunt for their eggs, then?”
He nodded again.
She stared at him, perhaps she could try helping him remember more. “So, how do you hunt them? The Gray Jumper?”
He squinted his eyes.
“Take your time.”
“S-Spegrh… thoghr…”
“Spear… throw? So, you throw spear?” she leaned closer. “That’s it?”
“Drugh… smogkh…”
“Drug… and smoke…” she tilted her head, still trying to piece together what he meant. “Spear, throw, drug, and smoke… I don’t quite understand.”
“Urgh…” he looked around and pointed to the staff.
“You want me to get that?”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
He retrieved the staff.
“So… what then?”
He tried to wrap some soil at the staff, however due only having one arm, he struggled a lot.
“Okay… I understand you wrap ‘em around… so then you throw it?”
He nodded.
“That is it? You said drug… so that was probably the drug. And the smoke?”
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
He pointed to the fire.
“Fire? But that…” she paused, her eyes widened. “wait, you used a fuse?!”
He nodded.
“You son of a whore… why the hell I don’t think of that?” she stared at him. “Hell… if I know that, I wouldn’t be fuckin’ here…”
“Hrg…?”
“Well… should be alright to tell you,” she scratched her hair, “technically… I am a bloody widow.”
“Grh… hg?”
“I assume you’re asking why… so…” she took a deep breath. “In my tribe, marriage ain’t happen in the ceremony, the fuckin’ sex did,” she sighed. “In short, I did have one with a guy, and that dumb arse fuck just fuckin died to impress my old pa by getting a gold ring… a gold fuckin ring as dowry. And you can guess what the hell he did?”
“Eggh?”
She flinched as he managed to get the word almost correct. But then she realized that the pronunciation did not matter for his current speech.
“Eggh…?” he repeated.
“Yeah! Sorry, I just surprised… anyway, yep, the bloody Gray Jumper’s eggs…”
He shook his head, a thin sneer appeared on his face. “Tohg… l-lrugh…”
She leaned forward. “You know what?” She was pressing her fist to his torso, “I was this close to sock your face if you pity me…”
He shook his head again.
“Good to know…” she let go of her fist.
“Logh…?”
“Log?”
“Hugsh… bagnh…” he coughed several times.
“Ah… you asked me if I love that idiot?” she leaned back. “Love might be an… overstatement. He’s a tad cute, though,” she looked up. “Long eyelashes, small lips, and a round face, but that is it.”
“Wogh… magh?”
“No… he got a dick, so he’s a man… how the fuck you think him as—” she paused. “Now that you mentioned it, yes, he probably looked like a woman next to you,” she stared at him. “Huh…”
“Hr…?”
“Nothing… I bet my arse you found it odd.”
He nodded.
“Well, I know him, like four… or five years?” she looked up. “So, we ain’t exactly stranger either. We sometimes hunt together… and on one night when we camp, it just happened…” she sighed, a frown appeared on her face.
“Sadh…?”
“Not sad… more like regret… a tad disappointed, perhaps…” she looked at him, “It felt fuckin’ horrible…”
“Hrh?”
“The sex, Umbra… I’m talking about the fuckin’ sex. It felt so fuckin’ horrible…” she leaned back. “It was both our fuckin’ first… but like he kept fuckin going…” her voice started to get louder, “No fuckin’ kissing, no fuckin nothing… he just straight up dogging on my arse! Not once! Not twice! Three fuckin’ times!” she paused briefly.
Umbra kept staring at her.
“Then, I think that it would be alright since we’ll have more chance later… and then, that bloody arse died on me…” she almost shouted, slowly leaning forward. “And I’m what then? A fuckin’ widow… I’m a fuckin used widow,” she shot her eyes to him. “All those fucks just looked at me like I am a fuckin’ old hag with saggy tits!”
A brief silence.
“Look… I ain’t asking for much but, what the fuckin’ bloody heck was that? I was still fuckin’ grieving. Sure I ain’t crying my bloody eyes out, but he was still my fuckin’ friend. Then they just thought I fuckin’ don’t—…” she stopped abruptly. “ARGH! Fucking arse! Bloody fuckin shite” she let out a scream, before slowly calming herself down. “This is why I hate talking about my past…” she leaned backward, rubbing her forehead.
“Resgh…” Umbra said.
“Don’t you fuckin’ hear anything I told you?!”
He nodded.
“And you won’t say anything?!”
He shook his head. “Yugh… lough…”
“Fuck… right…” she took a deep breath, “right… sorry…”
He shook his head. He then pointed to himself, “Magh… faulgh…”
“No… no, it ain’t your fault…” she sighed. “Well… you still ain’t got your memories back, eh? So I still have it better…”
“Gh…” he touched the base of his horn and then felt the scarring. “Tgh…”
“You… remember that?”
He nodded. “Hag… zhi…”
“Hm… then, you remember about your debt?” she probed further.
“Degbh…?” he looked above.
“That whorehouse debt?”
His mind recovered a few fragments of his memories. He nodded.
“Like seriously, you fuck the whole whorehouse?”
He stared at her.
She recognized that stare, and quickly added. “Okay… look… I still ain’t believe that… alright? You said their pimp’s an Infernal… but that still ain’t explaining why the hell the other whores let you, a fuckin’ Infernal… fuck them.
Umbra leaned backward.
“Look… no fuckin’ offense, but unless I got offered something I really fuckin need, I ain’t even consider to even…” she signed to him. “You bloody know what I mean…”
He sighed.
“Oh, come on… don’t make me say it, you arse.”
He shook his head, then pointed to himself. “Gigh… goh… logh…”
She tried to mutter the word. “Gi… go… log…? Gi… golo…” she shot her gazes at him. “W-Wait… you’re a bloody gigolo?!”
He nodded.
She froze, trying to imagine how the hell that would even make sense. “You… are a gigolo… you… are a gigolo… a fuckin Infernal is a gigolo…” she looked up to his eyes. Her gaze then slowly shifted to his chest, stomach, then landed on his groin. “Alright… that’s fuckin’ done it… I’m going to sleep,” she immediately lay down.
“Googh… nigh… Trisgh…”
“Good night, Umbra…”
Umbra too, then lay down slowly, grunting.
“Hey, Umbra?”
“Hr…?”
“Thanks for listening… I kinda need that…”
“Resgh…”
“Yeah, I know… no need to tell me again…”
Even with Umbra barely remembered her, the usual routine went on.
Umbra still trained while Tristia’s stump slowly healed back.
Umbra’s motor function started to return bit by bit. Tristia, too, now was able to stand on her stump and walked, even if barely.
“Whoa… you sure about…” Tristia took several steps back as Umbra released the tails from coiling around the roots.
He was floating, still in lotus position, hanging only with his left arm. The muscles on his left arm and shoulder contracted and strained, showing its true shape underneath his thick skin.
“Alright… a couple more seconds…”
“Gh… kgh…” his entire body started to shiver.
“Hold on, five more seconds—”
He let go as his body fall briefly. The jolt pained his right leg. “GH!”
“You alright?”
He nodded. “Howg… longh…?”
“Like eight or nine seconds?”
He grunted and looked at his left hand. “Noth… yegth…”
“Take it easy, will you?” she folded her arms. “You still ain’t that well yet.”
“Aye…”
It took Umbra four days of constant training to even able to walk without stopping every one or two steps.
“Umbra…” Tristia stared at the pile of woods that seemingly grew higher and higher.
“Hrg…?”
“Did you chop down a tree or something?” she looked at him. “I feel like you cut down a tree or something…”
He nodded.
“Huh… okay. Well, we got enough for now… better to just forage around.”
“Hunth…”
“Hunt?” Tristia stared at her. “Uh… you sure you want to hunt?”
He nodded. “Fodgh… low…”
“But…” she scratched her forehead. “Alright… so any weapon?”
He grabbed a rock.
“And?”
He pointed outside to a tree around 40 steps away, then primed up his arm.
“You bloody dream that—”
He lashed out his arm, launching the rock.
The rock made a loud dull thud as it hit the tree, startling some birds that perched on it. Then, the stone just stayed embedded in the trunk.
He stared at her, smug.
“How—” she stared at him before slapping his left leg. “Okay, wipe your bloody smug, you arse…”
He shrugged.
“You fuckin’…” she took a deep breath. “Fine… but you can’t defend yourself with that…” she searched at the pile and brandished a large bone dagger, the one made from human’s femur. “Well… here is some rule. I ain’t know if you ever use a bone dagger before. But… first, don’t throw it. Second, it ain’t metal, so be careful… it ain’t cut through bone. Third, don’t twist it.”
“Hrg…”
“And for the throwing…” she dragged the large bound bones that Umbra made for the trap. “No, too thin… too much work… hm… I’ll just…” she undid the knot.
The bones fall apart.
“Hrg…!” Umbra snorted.
“I know you spent time on this, alright?” she sighed. “But, we ain’t do that trap again… too risky. More birds means more predators coming. More predators, more scavengers or higher predators, then we’re basically fucked… alright?”
He clicked his tongue but then nodded.
“Try this?” she handed him the shoulder blade bone.
“Thingh…” he threw it against the root.
The bone wobbled around before snapped in half as it struck the root.
“Worse than I thought…” she cast away the shoulder blade and looked for another bones, “there must be something else…” then she remembered his words. “Spear… you can throw spears, right?”
He shook his head then pointed to his stump. “Nedgh… traighn…”
“Well, if you want to train… I have a better idea.”
After finding a decent branch with enough length and diameter, she started to shave the middle part, but keeping both end intact. “We often hunt with this…”
“Whaghs… thag…?”
“My tribe call it dart sling,” she honed the hatchet’s edge before continuing to scrap the wood. “Think of it as crossbow, but the bolt is a dart or small spear and the string is your hand. Speaking of that, give me your hand,” she pulled his left hand.
“Hrg…?”
“I got to compensate this for your size, eh? Hm… yeah, should be enough… oh, can you make an arrow but way longer? As long as possible.”
He nodded.
“Know how the spine works?”
He nodded.
“Alright then…”
Tristia wiped her forehead, sighing before staring at Umbra who sat by the fire.
He burnt one end of a small stick and then scrapped it with his serrated stinger. He did it repeatedly until it became a fine point.
She smiled briefly and continued on her work.
After a while, Umbra poked the tip with his index finger. “Trisgh…” he turned his head around.
“Aye?”
He handed the dart.
The dart was roughly one and a half meter long.
“Hm…” she examined the dart, closing one eye to make sure if it was straight or not. “Kinda close… don’t worry, I’ll fix it later.”
“Maghg… morh…?”
“Yeah, you can make more.”
“Stigfh… gher…?”
“Stick…er?” she stared at him.
Umbra then bend a branch slightly. “S-Spign…”
“Oh, stiffer spine… well…” she tested the dart. “Hm… this is stiffer than what I usually use… but better to make longer one.”
He nodded.
“Okay… done…” Tristia grunted.
The end result was a long wooden shaft with a shallow cup at one end and a short groove at the other. It was definitely meant for Umbra.
She placed the base of the dart at the cup and the dart’s shaft rested at the groove. She made a throwing motion, then flicked her wrist at the very end.
Since she barely put any power behind it, the dart didn’t travel that much.
“Hrg…?” he snorted.
“I ain’t throw it hard, arsehole…” she sighed then handed it to him. “Wanna try it?”
“Dargh?” he pointed to the dart.
“Yeah, we probably need more darts first, huh?” she scratched her head. “Kinda think hatchet will not cut it…” she eyed his tail.
“Maigh taiglh…?”
“Yeah… hell, ain’t believe I’ll ever use a bloody Infernal’s tail as a knife…”
“Trisgh…”
“Aye?”
“Tigchs…”
“Teach… you want me to teach you?”
He nodded.
“It’s just like throwing, but don’t throw the sling,” she shrugged. “Just try first.”
He nodded. He made a th
Umbra made a throwing motion with the dart sling without the dart loaded. “Hrg…?”
“You need to flick your wrist at the end.”
He nodded and did as she said.
“Okay, perfect, now keep it consistent. You need to do the exact same move. It ain’t matter if you got the aim or the power if you can’t get it consistent. So, don’t strain your arse, but take it calm and easy as long as it’s consistent. Got it?”
He nodded.
“Good. Now give me your tail.”
He did.
She started to work o, the dart, she suddenly stopped, “Fuck… why didn’t I think of this earlier?” she stared at the staff.
“Hrg…?”
“Do you know what’s the first shape of spear?” she grabbed the staff.
“Stigh…?” he turned to her.
“Pointy stick… yeah,” she grabbed the staff, “bloody fuckin’ pointy stick…”
“Hoh…” his eyes widened.
“Aye… I just remember that too.”
******
Research Log 10.
Agent: Creep. Class: [REDACTED]
(Sigh)
Where do I even begin?
Lots of backstory, that is for sure…
The great news is the simulator doesn’t forget about Subject 0’s debt. Let’s note that for now…
Subject 1 was a tribal. That is confirmed.
(Scribbling)
Well, moving on to observation I guess…
Looks decent… they are still barely get even with the intake and outtake of calories.
And the new weapon… atlatl, or dart sling as Subject 1 called it.
The tool is simple enough, that is true.
The dart, however, is the real pain to make. So it is also true that they have to test it.
That really reminds me at the Session 6 when Subject 1 tried to use a sling and failed… was it Session 6? Or Session 5? Wait…
Right… it is Session 6. Session 5 was where Subject 0 woke up.
Well, in her defense, sling is really a pain to use compared to atlatl.
So… she knew about sling, atlatl, and also did use crossbow, which probably derived from bow since she knows about the arrow spine…
Hm… her tribe probably use a lot of weapons, then? However, I do have a problem with that.
Atlatl is normally used for war, not hunting. So, if—…
(Sigh)
No… scratch that…
I really forget about this world’s fauna and possibly mega fauna… those Stone Bear and Skin Wolves are not normal.
Also, another note…
Subject 0 had not let out any waste, whether urine or feces… yet.
Okay… then, my main problem is water…
Subject 0 do not even drink water which is the only reason they didn’t have to worry about water for now…
They would eventually run out of water sooner or later.
I do also notice that Subject 0 still do not drink anything while Subject 1 is still rationing water heavily.
So, yeah, her urine is very concentrated.
That is also probably why she eats a lot of leaves to help with her digestive, huh?
Which leads to…
(A chuckle)
Monkey…
Well, I am sure you won’t receive this, but thanks for the chuckle, Subject 0…
No wonder he’ll probably pass as a gigolo…
******
---M?n?▓?y---
