Caravan, Pt 3

The township caravan trudges on through long past midnight, passing by a handful of stops and small towns. A part of you is regretful at not being able to loot any place you cross, but another part of you knows to stick with the townsfolk as much as possible. You simply never know what you all might run into.

You do your best to keep aware, while also instructing Nance along the way. It's not too tough with Noir taking point.

Up above you is the pale yellow moon in all its weak, sickly glory. Thankfully it's bright enough to shed some light, though you see some dark clouds encroaching its periphery. 

You sense it might rain soon.

That'll certainly make your trek harder, though it's best if they experience some rainfall sooner rather than later. Better they learn how to travel in a storm now, while they're still getting acclimated to life on the road in the first place. There's going to be many more storms down the road for them to deal with, that's for sure.

You glance over at Nance and note that she's down to about a quarter of her psionic energies. She has been spending it Scanning left and right, with the occasional Foresight interspersed in every hour or so. Basically, she's practicing diligently. Probably something you could do more of.

Take it easy, you transmit to her. You wanna pace yourself a bit, especially while we're on the road. Wanna leave yourself enough energy to deal with anything that might pop up. I personally try to only use up about a quarter of my max each day. So maybe you could do something similar.

Oh my, you're right, she replies Telepathically. Guess I got a bit carried away with it and all. Hope nothing comes our way now, 'coz I'd be up a creek…

Well honestly, using up your energies as much as you can also helps. I feel like doing that trains my mind to hold more energy in the first place, if you know what I mean. The times I've emptied myself out, I've always had a larger pool afterwards. Like I instinctively grew it to prevent emptying out in the future.

Like working out. The more you do them pushups, the stronger you get.

Like that, yeah. Anyway, all I'm saying is you oughta keep an eye out on how much energy you've got at all times. If you end up running out… well, just do whatever it takes not to run out.

Nance immediately draws back whatever energy she's holding and cancels a Scan already in process. She then takes a deep breath in as though to reset herself, but the mental fatigue she feels barely budges. Her physical body is also pretty worn at this point, and she slump forward slightly as a result. 

You all have been walking for many hours now without much of a break, and can feel the townsfolk's weariness in the air. It feels thick, though not quite overbearing. And from the way the sky looks, with a very slight red tint, it seems like dawn isn't far away. 

Up ahead, you see Frank and his team turn down a worn pathway through the trees, then beckon the rest of the caravan to follow. It's slow going, considering that the pathway is just dirt. And although it's wide enough for the horses and carts to get through, it's only just so. Everyone has to go a little bit slower than normal to get through it.

It's otherwise an easy trek despite the darkness all around. It takes only a half hour of trudging on that dirt path until you come to an overgrown clearing in the middle of the forest. The clearing itself is rather small, certainly not large enough for everyone to camp out in it. 

Butted up against the far end of the small clearing is what looks to be a hunting shack, which is where Frank and a few others have gathered up. They direct people over to the edges of the clearing itself, and tell them to set up their tents just inside the forest. 

They also direct the caravan's protectors, such as Nance and her team, to camp a little bit further out west, to act as a kind of protective buffer. Frank and his team will camp out further east to balance it out. Which leaves the carts and their horses in the clearing itself, which is large enough to hold them. 

Though the horses have to be close to the edge of the forest if they want any kind of room to rest. There, their drives secure them to the nearest trees, then water and feed and brush and clean them. Certainly plenty of pats and scratches and words of encouragement are scattered throughout as well.

While everyone sets up their hammocks and tents, you head over to the small shack. The thing is very small, made of wooden planks, and perhaps decades old. The wood itself is more gray than brown, though thankfully none of it is rotten. 

Along a wall outside it are a couple of wooden racks, which you presume to be tanning and meat drying racks. There's nothing in them for now to give a hint to their true purpose, sadly. But a quick flip through your bushcrafting book confirms that those are exactly what they are.

There's a pile of chopped wood at the corner of the cabin, just to the right of the door leading in. Hanging on the exterior out front are a few empty leather bags, water bladders, a handful of spears and a couple of bows. 

All of them look well-worn, hand-made, and also untouched. It's as though they've been hanging there for years, if not decades. They're probably more decoration now than actual tools.

The inside of the shack itself is rather cozy, if a bit musty. There's a small wooden table with a chair in one corner with one of Frank's team seated on it. Another is sitting on the rickety wooden bed, resting up. He has since loosened his straps and let his pack flop on the bed behind him. He seems to stare a hole into the wall as he catches his breath. Clearly, the man is exhausted. 

Frank himself is up over by the old wood stove in the corner to your left, mixing up some kind of stew in a large pot. There's a plate with all kinds of ingredients on a small prep table next to him, cuts of beef, fresh veggies, that sort of thing. There's a second pot nearby half-filled with broth, but sadly there's no place on the stove for it.

Another one in his team walks up to him and says, "Lemme take care of that," to which Frank obliges. He steps back and hands over his ladle without a fuss. When he sees you, he steps over.

"I don't think they like my cooking," he says jokingly. 

"We never did," says the one sitting on the bed. "But we appreciate it anyway. Get some rest, we'll take care of the grub."

Frank nods, thanks his team, and the two of you head out.

The smell of the cooking stew follows you, which causes your stomach to grumble slightly. But it's far from ready, so you instead walk out to the clearing to get away from the scent if you can. No good getting your appetite all worked up right now.

Frank follows along with you, though he goes to check the welding on the hitching on each of the carts. He inspects them rather carefully, mostly with his fingers as it's still relatively dark out. He seems to be satisfied with what he finds.

"You figured out your sleeping spot yet?" he asks.

It strikes you that you haven't thought of it yet - your mind has been so focused on Nance and her progress. As well as how the rest of the caravan is coping, mentally. It's an odd feeling, putting others before yourself. You wonder if your psionic powers have anything to do with your rising empathy.

Maybe it just took one bad loss to realize you had one all along. All you had to do was stop ignoring it.

In any case, you like how it feels. Even though it's somewhat uncomfortable and unfamiliar, you resolve to try to do this more often. 

"Maybe over there," you say after a brief Scan. "Plenty of space south for me and my cat to rest up at."

"You've a cat?" Frank asks, surprise etched in his voice.

"Yeah, she's patrolling over on the north side right now."

He nods, but slowly for a second, as though he's carefully absorbing the word 'patrolling'. 

"Probably hunting, too," you add. 

"Alright, well," Frank says after a moment. "Any case, you'd better start getting set up now before it starts coming down."

He points upwards at the darkening clouds which are now mostly covering the brightening dawn sky. 

You take his advice and head straight towards the area you've scouted out for yourself. Like the rest of the campsites, it's out in the woods itself. A bit further out, too, to align with the caravan's defensive perimeter.

You take a spot at the southeast, pointed towards the direction you've all come from. Although there's quite a lot of space here like you said, you're mostly concerned about anything that might be following you. 

It's best if you face whatever might be there first. 

You end up choosing a rocky outcropping to set up your camp at. It looks ideal as a defensive position towards the south, while still being able to see everything that's happening at the rest of the camp northwards.

The first thing you do is set down all your gear, then flip open your bushcraft guide and look at whatever it says about creating a sleeping area. 

The guide has a handful of beds to create, but you choose the one that looks as though it's something you could do. There's basically two thin and long logs parallel to each other, and has shorter sticks running perpendicular along the length. Kinda like slats on a bed frame.

On top of it all is a layer of sticks, dry leaves, then clumps of soft moss. You could put your sleeping bag on top of that to make something incredibly comfortable.

You lighten up your load as much as you can, but quickly realize that you need a hatchet to chop down said wood. You distinctly recall thinking about buying one, but putting it off until later. Thanks to the attack and all the other things that have happened since, you've never gotten a chance to go get said hatchet.

Of course, it would be easy to borrow a hatchet from someone in the caravan - they likely have plenty to spare. But you do have your Telekinesis to practice, and could use that to chop down trees instead. You've still got plenty of energy left in the tank, after all.

How hard could it be, right?

You head over to a small cluster of short and thin trees, pick out a handful that's about the same width, then begin to chop the first down. Or at least, you try to.

Your energies mass around you as you channel them into your Telekinesis. Though you've gotten better over time, you're still nowhere near as good as Kaja was. But you hope that by being diligent about it, you'll eventually get there.

Though you consider picking up a rock and chipping it against another to create a sharp edge, you instead take a cue from Noir. You shape the Telekinetic energy itself into a sharp edge, much like an actual axe head.

You then swing that Telekinetic axe into the first tree, about a third of a meter up. It makes a truly satisfying THOK sound on impact, which also causes the tree to vibrate from the hit. More than that, you find that your Telekinetic axe has cut into the wood some. Seeing that brings you some joy.

It takes another half dozen swings before you're able to fell the tree, however. You simply can't seem to push your TK axe fast enough or hard enough to truly bite into the wood. Still, this will do. 

As advised by your bushcraft guide, you pick up the felled tree and strip off its thin branches with your survival knife. It takes you a bit of effort to accomplish this, as it's nothing like you've ever done before. The first few attempts result in your knife binding up in the wood and stopping short. A few other times, you gouge too deeply and weaken the wood accidentally. But by the time you're done, you're able to whip your blade quickly and take off whatever branches are left with ease.

You do this a handful more times so you have enough wood for your slats, then chop them up so they're all about the same length. Then you find two larger trees to make up your bed's frame and chop those down as well. Since these are quite a bit thicker, it takes you much longer to do. You find your mind drifting a little, even as you hack away at the trees.

And if your psyche could sweat from this level of manual labor, it would. Swinging an axe is certainly laborious, monotonous work, but somehow also deeply satisfying.

In the end, you have what you need and transport them bundle by bundle over to your campsite. There, you set up your bed frame butted up against the outcropping, then lay down your slats over top. You then place smaller sticks loosely on top of the slats, to make for a kind of springy underlayer. Then you go hunting for leaves and moss to make your bedding. That part doesn't take too long, as there's tons of them all over the forest floor.

Once everything is set, you create four stakes and pound them into the earth at each of the four corners of the bed. Similar to the TK axe, you use your Telekinesis to shape a mallet, and use that to hammer the stakes in.

Once the bed looks more or less done, you start on your lean-to. As before, you use your poncho to make the actual shelter by stretching it flat, but use two similarly-sized sticks to hold it up at an angle. You place it over the bed itself, giving you plenty of shelter. Though you shouldn't have to worry about the sun too much, as the forest's canopy should shield most of it from you.

Still, you prefer things to be cozier than it needs to be.

Now that you're done, you find yourself sweating profusely from the effort. You're even panting a bit out of exertion. It has taken physical and psionic effort, but it feels good. Your mind and body feel similarly tired, and having a nice place to sleep feels like a reward. 

You take a quick break to appraise your handiwork thus far… and you're not exactly impressed with what you've done.

The bed is serviceable enough, without a doubt. But it all looks a bit shabby at the edges. Your cuts of wood aren't the most even, your notches aren't all aligned, and your beddings looks a bit lumpy in some sections. 

While you're fixing up what you can to make your bed just a little bit better, you hear the patter of rain strike your poncho shelter. The few drops turn to dozens after a few seconds, and when those double you take the rest of your things and stuff them under the shelter, somewhere at the foot of your bed.

You then crawl in feet-first through the only opening left, and settle in as you listen to the rain drumming your poncho. The smells of the forest rises up as it all becomes damp, filling your nose with an indescribable scent. You feel soothed from deep within, and whatever weariness you feel in mind and body seem to dissipate away.

As a result, you fall fast asleep.