#boggis

Rosco leaned against her makeshift bed of dried grasses on the rock platform in the back of the cave. She woke slowly as the morning light seeped in from the cave entrance she stirred. 

Her eyes opened, finding that she was thinking clearly. A sensation she had been missing for weeks? Months?

She looked at the state of her surroundings, the wet interior of the cave was anything but homey. She shivered. Out of routine, she stood and went to the small spring against the adjacent wall for a drink. When she looked at the waters, she realized they were nearly black with tannins. Not necessarily poisonous. The previously dormant scientific part of her mind analyzed the pool. But I have no idea what might be in there. 

Then she remembered. The cache.

Her stomach growled. 

Every other morning since she’d seen that other at the entrance of her cave, of which there had been three, there’d been an assortment of food and a flask of fresh water left by the trickling creek. A few times, she’d had to fight vermin off her cache, so she’d been waking earlier and earlier to intercept the resource. Until today, she never wondered just who may have been leaving her the food. Until today, she hadn’t awoken this early to catch the mysterious donator. 

The tall half-orc stood to her full height and walked out of the cave, having to support herself on the wall as her weakened and slight frame could barely hold her up. 

The other.

He stood there, in that same cloak as before, the only difference being that his  arm was bound in a sling. She winced internally as she remembered hitting him with a rock days, maybe weeks earlier. Time had passed in an odd way, slipping through her mental fingers like sand, until today. 

The half-elf’s dark eye’s widened, he deposited the food on the ground in the usual spot and took several hurried steps backwards, his gaze never leaving her. “I’m just leaving this here, I’ll be going now.” He spoke in a calm tone, hands raised defensively, as he began to turn to walk back out of the ravine. 

“Wait.” Rosco spoke in a hoarse voice she didn’t recognize, but he was already gone, quickly disappearing over the top of the hill. She followed, panting with the effort.

When she got to the top there was no sign of him. She groaned in defeat, kicking at the earth, which was still stained with lines of boar’s blood. The trail of blood from those few nights ago when she had clubbed that other with a rock, over a meal that she got only a few bites of before a pack of wolves had fought her for it, and won. 

That man who had downed the boar. He was young. She’d attacked him over his kill, given him no warning, no fair fight. How could she have been capable of such a thing? 

Guilt wracked her. She shuddered at the intense memory, pushing it away, and went down to the pile of food to eat it all before it attracted any wildlife. 

Arturo sat ponderously in the pasture behind The Red Lantern, the dry grass that had been killed by the unusually hot summer prickled through even his thick work pants. A timid ball of fur cowered in his lap as several horses and a donkey approached curiously.

Boggis was the name the crew had collecitvely chosen for the little guy, Elleh had blurted it out and it stuck. The pup was quiet and sweet, but timid. At such a tender age, it was best to get him used to all sorts of situations, like the snouts of four massive beasts being shoved into his personal space.

Boggis climbed up Arturo's stomach and into his arms, ears back and growling. The hunter held the little dog close but let the horses continue to sniff the questionable little beast. Boggis's own inquisitiion eventually got the better of him as he turned around to sniff the equines back, and his little nub of a tail began to wag furiously.

"There you go." Turo smiled, slowly getting up and setting the pup down. Even though he rose as slowly as he could, the dizziness of his still-healing head threatened to knock him off balance.

Boggis didn't stray from between his feet as he casually walked around the huge pasture. That's when he noticed their pony, Vigno, standing by the old toolshed.

It was quite out of character for the little brown beast to stray from the herd. Arturo neared to investigate, and noticed the footprints.

Bare foot prints.

Arturo opened the door of the shed, slowly, unbreathing. He peered through the opening, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Inside was a tall figure, leaning against the wall.

No. Not a tall figure.

The tall figure. The fangs. The torn clothing.

Turo cried out in alarm as the feeling of a memory rushed back to him. He wasn't sure why, but his entire body flooded with fear as he took in the sight.

He ran.

Arturo ran with such panic that the horses kicked out in alarm and ran toward the barn. Boggis yapped at his heels anxiously. The hunter's vision started to go dark around the edges, and he remembered Elleh scolding him about getting too excited while he was still healing. But every cell in his body was screaming at him to flee.

Rosco gasped at the sight of someone entering her shelter. It had taken her all day to find this place, and felt lucky to have a dark hidden alcove to plan her next move. The last thing she thought was that someone would immediately come snooping around an old toolshed in the back of a dusty horse pasture.

The figure fled before she could even register who, or what, it was.

"Wait!" She reached out, and struggled to her feet. She followed.

By the time she exited the shed she saw him slumped down on all fours, quickened breath wracking his whole body. He hadn't made it far. A little dog cowered against his leg as she approached. She gave a somewhat wide berth and rounded to face him.

"Are you okay? I'm sorry I scared you I..."