byob - bring your own breakfast (open!)

[tuathade]

It was a few days since the breakout. The outlaws were more-or-less settled into their new home, thus far droves of whers had not broken into the cave system and eaten everyone, and they hadn’t dissolved yet into a massive battle royale. On top of that, they had both shelter and hydration in ample supply; the inner caves, like most natural cavern systems, kept to a naturally mild temperature regardless of weather outside, and the springs gave plenty of water – even if it kind of smelled like sulfur.

Overall, things were much better than Arkady had dared to anticipate.

Still, with water and shelter squared away, the next concern was food. There were a lot of outlaws. They wouldn’t subsist on butchered runnerbeast and supplies stolen from Warden’s forever. Someone needed to step up and make sure that shit got done… And he was willing to do so, in his own way. He didn’t have a big-ass wher or dragon to back him up, so the ex-Harper had to rely solely on wits and natural brazen charm to carry him through. That, and a decent amount of experience in survival garnered from his short time on the run. Although that had been on the northern continent, and this was Southern. Mountains and jungles, two completely different animals in terms of survival techniques. Shards, why hadn’t he kidnapped that Healer apprentice when he had the chance? Would have been useful to have someone along who actually knew how to identify plants… Oh well. He’d just feed any suspicious-looking potentially poisonous things to the most useless outlaws first.

“Rise and shine, folks!” he sang out as he strode out through the cave systems towards the entrance. It was still relatively early morning, before the full heat of the day set in to make everyone sticky and miserable. “C’mon, anyone who wants to get fed, come with me! This isn’t an Ista vacation, if you wanted square meals handed to you then shoulda stayed at Warden’s!” Arkady’s voice, well-practiced at projection and further amplified by the acoustics of stone walls, would carry quite clearly to anyone listening nearby.

He was prepared – or as prepared as he could possibly be. The machete rested comfortably in his dominant hand. (That was his and anyone who touched it was going to get sliced open with it.) His other arm was wrapped around a bundle of other assorted items. A handful of long, straight sticks had been sharpened into makeshift spears, for anyone who hadn’t managed to get their hands on something sharp already. Arkady’d attempted to fire-harden a few of them, but the weak and sputtering blaze he’d managed to coax into life died rapidly in the wet jungle conditions, and he didn’t have the patience (or tinder) to try again. In addition to the makeshift hunting implements, he’d knotted a few spare articles of clothing (probably stolen from someone) into bags for carrying. He hadn’t managed to get his hands on a proper basket, those all seemed to be filled with glows or other important things, but these would serve well enough.

[S'yal]

Iris was dirty, hungry and quite sure she was going to die sometime soon. She hadn't had a comfortable bed to sleep on in days, and she didn't have her ribbon anymore.

How did she feel?

She felt alive. The pain was marvelous, even the empty gnawing in her stomach making her feel as if she was aware of every little thing. These feelings were no stranger to the woman, nothing she hadn't known since she was a small child. They'd been strangers during her time with Fang, but those times were long gone, hm?

Iris frowned at the sound of a male voice, but the expression quickly faded as he mentioned food. Food, enough to make the strange woman nearly smile! It was a shame manipulation and seduction wouldn't work around these folks- it would have been nice to have someone catching her food for her.

So she followed him, just like he'd said. She ran her finger along the edge of her knife, a frown tugging at her feature as she realized it wouldn't be useful against Wherries. That would require getting near the sharding things... Instead, she looked to Arkady. "Help?" She asked, not really asking for help but asking if he needed help. Full sentences can go screw a wher.

[lithle]

Things had changed, since they'd reached the caves. Many of the changes were not to the better. Sleeping on the floor in a dirty cave was not to her liking. The jungle was not to her liking. Neither was the company she now found herself keeping, though in all truth, she'd kept mostly to her cave.

She wasn't anti-social by nature. She liked people. And she knew that if she was going to make it in such a place as this, she'd need friends. She'd need lots of friends. Myr was not a killer. She wasn't violent. She wasn't particularly dangerous, except when it came to her own unique obsessions. She'd need allies, people who would stand up to her if one of the violent sorts took a disliking to her.

She also needed food. That was going to be important, soon. And now a voice was talking about food and Myr wasn't going to ignore it. She needed to make those friends and she needed food for herself and Roni.

Oh, Roni. The thing that made it all worthwhile. Myr would have loved to leave the girl safely resting in the cave, but it simply wasn't safe. No, her little gem had to come with her. And Myr could only hope that she'd soon have the resources to place said gem in an appropriate setting.

"Come, gem. Pretty one. Let's go." She took the dark little girl by the hand and led her out, to where the stranger waited. She studied him with a relaxed, easy expression. She was smiling, just slightly. "Good morning."

[nozomi]

Having an injured brother was a pain in Jessan's rear. Oh, she loved him, adored him, really, but Machi was to be the one who went out and killed things for the duo. He should have been the one to get all dressed and armed and outside where things would be slaughtered and hunted and...

Ugh.

But, there she was. Jessan and Machi knew it would happen eventually and the MindHealer, once figured out her darling brother wasn't going to die of some crazy infection, went to work putting together... pants. Pants. Ugh. In all truth, they were Machi's pants, the bright red of the prisons jumpsuit having been washed out in those damnedable hotsprings and cut the shredded tops from the waist down. Well, her waist down, and they were too tight for her liking - Jessan wanted her skirts. Boots, one of the shirts she'd had shoved away in her 'crap I might need' bag with the sleeves pinned up. She felt like one of those Farmercrafters.

Jessan did not like that. Now did she like the fact her hair had to be tied back or she needed to wear the Warden's weapon on her waist. Either way - the MindHealer tromped out after Myr, eyes flicking to the child before to Iris and Ark.

"If this results in wrestling felines with our bare hands, I'll stick to eating bugs." Jessan wrinkled her nose delicately, one hand smoothing out the wrinkles of that bright, ugly red. She'd never worn it before. (She didn't like it.) Ugh. Blood. There was going to be blood on her. She'd never killed anything before. Jessan wasn't even sure she knew how to use the sharding blade. "Might end up doing that anyway. 'Morning, all."

[Spiffy]

Kailin wasn't too impressed with her new diet. Sure, she'd quite happily live of fish and salted meat for weeks, but a few days of bugs? She had to draw the line at that.

So she'd been thinking. Thinking back to her craft days actually, not much more than a turn ago. Net mending, one of the master's and journeyman's favourite chores to give the apprentices. She'd hated it initially. But, conversely, she may not have found a use for the skill.

On her way into the caves. she'd noticed a river. The second day she'd been out in the forest, searching for something that she may be able to use as some fairly robust twine. She'd not had a huge amount of success. She'd found some bark that she was trying to strengthen, twisted into some kind of string, which she was planning on weaving into a small net. Then she could catch herself some fish! It was a genius idea.

But she abandoned that for the time being when someone came through the caves shouting about getting food. Her net wouldn't be finished for a good while, and she was hungry now shardit. She hurriedly put her twine away and followed them out.

She recognised a few faces. Mainly Myr, whom she nodded to in greeting. Silly woman had brought the child with her. Mind, she'd probably be safer with at least one person keeping an eye out for her. She said a quiek "hey" to Jessan too, seeing as the other woman had greeted them all. Only polite to reply.

She grabbed a spear, even though she had the knife she'd been given during the breakout tied at her hip in a makeshift belt around her rather ragged jumpsuit, or rather what was left of it after she'd chopped the sleeves, separated the bottom from the top and opened up the inner legs or the trousers to let the air in. She weighed the spear, as if she knew what she was doing, which she didn't. She just wanted to look like she did. Maybe she could spear a fish with it, with a little practice.

"So, we going hunting then?"

[tuathade]

Help?

Arkady honestly wasn’t sure whether Iris was asking for help or offering it. Either way, his answer was the same: a warm chuckle and an offered stick. “Have a stick! You’re first, so you get my best one, congratulations.” Normally he would hesitate at offering pointy things to dangerous people, but it was better than not having pointy things in the jungle. People frowned on letting your food-gathering party get eaten by wild animals. Besides, this girl already had a knife – it just probably wouldn’t help her catch much in the way of delicious meats.

Myr, on the other hand, got a deeply concerned frown. A kid? She was bringing a kid? …Okay, whatever. She could go on gathering duty. The kid could help. Four hands better than two, and children were still competent enough to pick fruit and berries. He handed the both of them one of his makeshift sacks. “Good morning,” he greeted, pleasant enough despite his misgivings about the pair.

It was Jessan, however, who got the brilliant dazzling grin. Followed by a look of mock-dismay. Oh Faranth the tight pants and the top and the inexplicable sexiness of seeing the Mindhealer with a knife aaaaaaa. “Jessan. Jess, you terrible person, you are trying to get me murdered by wild beasts. Is that necessary?” So much distraction everywhere, this was going to be an adventure. Jessan got her choice of sharp stick or gathering bag. Or both, if she cared for it.

The last one to arrive, a woman Arkady didn't recognize (who nonetheless looked competent and wasn't carrying a kid, which put her on his Good List) likewise claimed a spear. Attagirl. After his own heart. Arkady nodded a greeting to her, before he addressed the group as a whole. “No, no wrestling felines. I may be crazy, but I’m not crazy. Still, if there’s felines and feral whers out here, they are presumably eating smaller things that aren’t us, which means there's hunting to be had. Fish and fruit are good, if we can find water nearby. Small animals, also good. If it’s big enough to eat your head, try not to make it angry.” He spoke casually, machete slung over one shoulder now, projecting confidence as only a Harper could. Never mind that he didn't have all that much survival experience.

"Tinder's valuable too," he added as an afterthought, "unless you like raw meat. And sturdy vines, we could make nets or snare traps."

[lithle]

Myr did not complain about not being given a pointy stick. Myr did not want a pointy stick. Pointy sticks were for people who wanted to go about poking things. She had no intention of going about poking things. Gathering fruit, however, she could see the use in that.

Myr had plans and most of those plans involved getting her hands on fruit. The project she had in mind would be difficult but she was a master of her craft. She knew fruit, she knew herbs. She knew how to make her own yeast. She was actually quite an accomplished cook in addition to her abilities as a vintner. Though she'd never had to use such skills in quite so primitive an environment.

She still wasn't sure what sort of container she might make use of. But the caves had the look of a place that had been inhabited once, long ago. Perhaps something remained.

But first, fruit and herbs and maybe putting herself forward as someone who could prepare a decent meal. She'd leave the stabbing to those holding pointy objects.

After flashing Kailin a quick smile, she turned her attention back to the man organizing their little adventure. "I know edible fruits and herbs, I'm sure I can find a decent variety. I might even be able to make the meat taste a bit more edible, if we can get a suitable fire growing." She gave her surroundings a slightly disapproving look, "And as soon as I'm able, I'll be brewing something we can drink along side our meals."

She scooped Roni up in her arms when she'd finished speaking, the girl had been tugging at her leg. The child whispered to her and she nodded slightly. "I know, Kitling but I don't want you getting dirty. I intend you for better things." When speaking to the child, she spoke in a sweet, charming murmur, different than the more forward tone she used with the group.

[Spiffy]

She flashed Arkady a smile when he nodded at her, glad to see that Myr had also returned her greeting, of a sort. She snorted as he talked though. Well she wasn't exactly planning on hunting a feline or Faranth forbid a wher. No, the quarry she had her sight on was a great deal smaller, scaly, and very, very wet. Much easier.

She was glad when Myr spoke up. She'd found a bit of fruit outside the cave, but wasn't exactly sure how much of it she should have been eating, so had stayed away from most of it. The pickings were a little thin, to say the least. Ad if Myr was willing to attempt brewing the stuff then all the better! Kailin knew there was a reason she'd brought Myr along (or at least assisted her in arriving).

"I know fish," she said to the group, looking at Arkady as she said it though, since it'd been his suggestion and he seemed to be leading their little group. She didn't have a problem with that, he seemed nice enough (well, at least he was good looking). "There's a river a few hours walk away that I saw on the way in that we could try. I'm working on making a net already, but a hand would be nice if anyone's willing. For now I suppose I'll have to rely on my stick," she said, doubtfully eyeing the pointy thing. She'd never tried spear fishing herself, but she'd hear that it took a while to learn and a lifetime to master. She had her doubts that she'd be bringing home anything tonight. "It's worth a try, I suppose." At the very least she could help Myr with fruit gathering and maybe track down some more of that bark that she'd been using or twine.

[nozomi]

Awww, he smiled. How adorable. For her part, Jessan worried more about the blasted pants; skirts were not very comfortable in a setting such as this, not if they were going to try and kill things. (At least there were no strangling of wild felines and Ark talked sense.) Jessan took both a sack and a pointed stick, and winked at Arkady.

"It isn't my fault that he has the thighs of a five year old. My clothing would not be the best for this particular set of events about to take place." She shook her head, tapped the bottom of the pointy stick at her shoe. "I'd hate to try and take down a wild feline, especially with a stick. It's a very nice stick, don't get me wrong, but it's a stick nevertheless."

She didn't know how to hunt, or set traps. Fishing? Never. Not even once. Jessan so didn't want to kill things with that stick. She'd rather fish or, ideally, talk Machi into it. He just happened to be lacking movement in most of his body. Jessan smiled to Bellatrix, that same quiet, calm Mindhealer smile she typically had on her face, and cocked her head to the side. "Fishing and gathering sounds a bit better than hunting down and battling wild felines. Or whers, for that matter."

"I don't know fishing, but if you'd like help, I'll offer up mine." As her hunting skills fell far short of fishing. Jessan's smile widened a notch, eyes slanting towards Arkady. "How about it? A trek to the river, gatherer's grab what they see, skilled stabbers such as yourself kill what we see, and the rest of us fish."

[firebird]

Yekemi took his sweet time making everything in his little portion of the caves was still there and secure. He didn't trust any of the others not to steal the belt knife and clothes he had smuggled from the prison, at least not until he was able to intimidate them well enough. Even if he managed to fight, threaten, and bully his way to the top there would always be someone stupid enough to try to steal from him.

He arrived at the entrance to the caves just as the Mindhealer started discussing fishing. "Spear fishing is harder than it looks," he said as he took a wooden spear for himself. Ugh. When he gets the time, he should really tie his knife to the end; that thing did not look sharp at all. "I'll stick to hunting."

Admittedly, most of his knowledge of killing non-human beasts was restricted to domestic animals. The rest was from defending said domestic animals from wild ones. He felt he could cause enough trouble to a feline to make it choose a different outlaw to attack, at least. Whers, on the other hand... He might be fast enough to cripple another outlaw to distract them, but he really didn't want to have to find out. "I suggest the hunters work in teams. One person can flush our prey out of hiding and to the other hunters."

[asgard]

Ferin stalked the wherry ahead with the grace of a contained cat. Hunger was a great motivator to do things right, he thought, and maybe a little fresh meat would earn him some favour. Crouching now, he watched the wherry as it examined its environment. Shards, the breeze is changing direction, so now or never.

Rising silently, Ferin threw the first rock, and missed. But the second caught the wherry square in the eye. As it screeched, he pounced on it, fighting for a grip on the strong neck. Finally in desperation he sat on the creature before wringing its neck. Exhausted with the effort, Ferin rolled off the wherry to catch his breath.

I need a bow, he told himself, wondering if he remembered how to make one. Arrows he knew well enough how to make and fletch, but without the bow he was only a quarter as efficient. He hoped he hadn’t made a bad choice escaping with the others, but he had learned to take advantage of opportunities as they arose.

Sitting up at last he examined the wherry. The flight feathers would make good fletches if he removed them before someone damaged them more than he had himself. He’d need the use of a knife though, but hoped to argue a case for himself that would allow that.

Rising to his feet he used a vine to tie the wherry’s wings shut, then hefted it over his shoulder by the neck. While not exactly comfortable, he would manage well enough. As he began the trip back to camp, he looked for wood suitable for making a bow. He found a branch as long as he was tall that had a slight bend in it that might do, and picked it up to take with him.

Arriving in camp some time later, he set down to pluck the feathers he needed before the wherry was taken from him. The fletchable ones when in one bag, the other feathers in another bag for making pillows. He also kept the feet, before hanging the wherry to drain the blood. Then he saw he’d been noticed.

{Ferin}

[Cansi]

Alezri had been up for quite some time, as seemed to be his developing habit. (In part because if he was up before most, they couldn't sneak up on him and murder him in the night. Not that he'd been provoking any notice, good or bad.) The excitement of this lifestyle made him feel Turns younger, pushing him back mentally to when he'd first self-emancipated from the life of a drudge and wandered cross-country. During that phase of his life he'd lived in conditions only marginally improved from these, and had learned through trial and error what Northern plants would give his stomach cramps for days and which merely tasted horrible. When he'd settled in the hayloft of his lost lover's barn as a transient farmworker, the pair had roamed gathering the things the farm did not produce. The only reason he remembered any of those things were because he had relished every moment spent in Jayce's presence.

He stopped stroking the drowsy Squall when he heard Arkady summoning everyone, and snorted in disgust. Even now somebody was trying to take charge and display some sort of dominance. So much for freedom. The young man sat up with a low groan as his back complained about the rock that had jutted into it all night. Squall unlidded one faceted eye and cheeped inquisitively. "Time to go to work, I suppose," Alezri informed the little bronze, his voice like silk though the tone was much put-upon. He stuck his hand through the loop of fabric he'd rigged to his knife, so he as it hung from his wrist he could swing it into his hand at a moment's notice. He hadn't quite got the hang of the motion but he could simply straighten his arm to his side and grab the hilt that way. Not good in an emergency situation, but so far there hadn't been one.

It hadn't occurred to him to share with anyone else the night before last when Squall had spontaneously come back with some sort of fish. Actually, with an infuriating lack of foresight, the ex-inmate had diced the fish up for the lizard and made much of praising him and petting him. You'd have thought the bronze was a smith's bellows, his chest puffed out so far. The very next morning, it had seemed as though his stomach was trying to eat itself, so loudly did it complain. He'd filled it with water and tried to coax Squall to go bring some more food back- shardit, he was hungry- but the young lizard hadn't quite seemed to catch on. Oh, he'd brought back other things, which at least meant he had the right idea, but attempts to show him that a stick could not be eaten hadn't gone very well.

Not that he'd been trying to rely on his firelizard to bring him food (though it would have been nice). It was just that he was being careful about the local plants, trying to give the ones that seemed similar to Northern edibles a chance to either make him sick or show no ill affects. There were a few things that he was pretty sure wouldn't hurt them once he gathered them, but it would take a lot to feed this many people. Quite frankly, he didn't think he was going to share unless it became a group effort.

So it was the roiling hunger that prodded Alezri to his feet now; the flit blinked and looked around, catching the hint of fear in his human but not what it meant. (Alezri was afraid someone was already desperate enough to want to try eating Squall.) The human turned his palm up and curled the index and middle fingers toward himself, the signal to 'come here' that had been the first thing he'd tried to teach the lizard. With the flitter perched comfortably on his shoulder, tail curled around to the opposite side, Alezri finally made an appearance outside.

His blue eyes alighted for a moment on Myr and Roni, narrowed slightly with unwanted empathy for the child (Maybe I'll share with them, he thought, and only them), and skittered across the rest of the faces gathered. Not everyone was here, but if they were anywhere near as hungry as he was, it would make sense that some folks were already out trying their luck at getting a meal. Alezri nodded to the sticks, feeling pained at the need to ask, but he didn't want to start any problems. "Can I use one of those?" he said gruffly. Which meant his voice sounded like a silken pouch full of tumbled gravel. More of a purr than a growl. "That thick one there looks like it would make a good digging stick."

Tubers wouldn't bite back, after all, and were almost universally not dangerous when eaten.

[asgard]

Ferin ignored everyone around the camp as he set about looking for what he needed. He stayed close to the hung wherry, and sorted through rocks within reach. Bashing one against another til he found what he needed: a rock that would chip off in flakes, and another that was hard enough to cause the chips. He filled his sack with a number of likely rocks, and then gathered some sticks to use as kindling, bagging them too before gathering a few others for an actual spit roast frame and fire.

He went back to the wherry, sitting close by, back against a tree trunk. He placed a flattish rock down between his spread legs then, before placing one rock on edge against it and striking with another. The first chips were either far too small or only big enough for arrow heads. The next chips showed promise for spearheads but would need more work. Finally a larger slice chipped off the rock and was long enough for making a short knife.

He quickly hid the best chips in his bag, leaving a few lying about so that the others would think them his best if they decided to steal from him. When that rock was splintered as best he could without harming himself, he pulled out the next. It became a rhythm in his head, BANG BANG CHIP BANG BANG CHIP. The best chips he kept, the rest he let lie in groups according to size.

The last rock chipped in a way that suggested an axe head, and Ferin worked to sharpen it enough to be useful. Satisfied, he decided to test the sharpness in a practical way, and stood to gut the wherry. It was messy, but showed that the axe would work fine. He set about using the axe to shape a handle for itself and then with that done, he sacrificed a boot lace to fasten the two together. He wet the lace in his mouth, grimacing at the taste.

Bound together the axe and its handle swung satisfyingly. Happy with it, he began chopping the wood he meant for his fire. It was good to work hard on survival, for it took his mind off the very real dangers of his current situation. He did wonder when someone would dispute his right to eat his own kill though, for food was scarce.