Fireside Conversation
“Ain’t we there
yet?” Bailey whined, Stranger whipped round, the snit’s persistent moans were getting irritating.
“Look,” he growled, striding back to the smaller human and leaning down so there was an inch between their noses. “I’ll tell yer when we get there,
alright?” Bailey leant back, her nose wrinkled,
“Yes, alright,
alright. Sheesh.” For a second Stranger didn’t move, just to make sure she’d gotten the message, “What!?” Bailey asked, “You want a kiss? Well sorry pal but your breath stinks, ever heard of a toothbrush?” Stranger blinked and then glared. Bailey ignored him and ducked under his arm and started walking. She turned and walked backwards for a moment, hands plunged in pockets, “You comin’? We’ll never get anywhere if you just stand there like a noob.” She grinned and Stranger let out a fierce breath through his nose.
That child was the most trying thing he had ever experienced in his whole life…
Stranger shook his head and resumed the march.
¤§¤
“C’mon Bailey, pick up yer feet!” Stranger grinned as Bailey was too out of breath to come out with a retort.
“You’re…really…cruel…you know…that?” she finally managed to gasp, clutching a stitch in her ribs.
“Ye just need ta strengthen yer stamina, tha’s all.”
“Easy fer you to say, you’ve been at this hunting business for who knows how long, I’m thirteen years old fer cryin’ out loud, AND I’m short! Have
some mercy on me.”
“Keep goin’.” Stranger grinned wickedly, he could feel Bailey’s glare on the back of his head but nothing could detract from the satisfaction.
“Oh I hate you.” Bailey panted,
“I hate you too kid.” Stranger answered blithely. “Seriously though, we’re nearly there.”
“That’s a relief.”
As good as his word Stranger stopped a short while later. Bailey came up beside him a few seconds later, red in the face, sweating and out of puff. When she realised Stranger had stopped she sank gratefully down on the nearest seat – a large mossy rock.
“Finally.”
“Whadda ya sittin’ down fer? We gotta get camp set up.” Bailey flopped onto her back, slapped her hands over her face and groaned. But she dragged herself up. “Fine. Where d’we start?”
¤§¤
Finally, an hour later Bailey dropped like a dead thing next to the newly kindled fire.
“I am
exhausted.” She moaned.
“Yer better gets some sleep, we got an early start tomorra.” Bailey picked up her head and glared at Stranger, sitting across from her, completely ignoring her stare and poking at the fire, green eyes unreadable. Bailey dropped her head again,
“Brilliant.” She muttered sarcastically. “Just
fantastic.” She lay on her back, arms behind her head and stared at the small patch of sky that was visible through the canopy of trees. “The stars are unfamiliar here…” she murmured after a while.
Stranger, on the other side of the fire, who had also laid down propped himself up on one elbow and looked over at his young companion.
“Yer a long way from home, ain’t yer?” Bailey sighed slightly, still looking at the stars,
“That depends…”
“On?” he was using that soft, purring,
coaxing tone again.
“Where I call home.”
“I thought yer said yer came from ‘Earth’, s’not part of Oddworld is it?” Bailey smiled faintly,
“No, it’s a lot father away. But I don’t really call it home…”
“Oh? Why would that be?” Bailey made a non-committal shrug,
“I dunno, it just…isn’t…I’m more at home with the Mudokons actually…”
“Who or what are they?”
“A race of people, they live of the other side of Oddworld as far as I can tell, I’m not really sure though…”
“You miss ‘em?” Bailey nodded,
“Um hm, very much. Abe and Slick and Scrab and Paramite especially.”
“Who are they?”
“Well Abe’s a Mudokon, we’ve been through a couple of adventures together, and Slick, he’s an albino Slig that got me out of hell and Scrab and Paramite? Well, I just bonded with those two.”
“Mudokons or Sligs?”
“Neither, Scrab’s a Scrab and Paramite’s a Paramite.” Bailey glanced at Stranger, his green eyes, reflecting the fire weirdly, were confused. “They’re beasties.” Bailey clarified. Stranger nodded,
“A-see. So yer not hysterical about all critters?” the question had a teasing note.
“No, just those arachnid horrors.”
“Bolamites.” Bailey looked at him again,
“Eh?”
“Those creatures, they’re called Bolamites.”
“Oh, right.” There was a comfortable lull in the conversation. And then;
“Why d’yer use guns?” asked Stranger. Bailey glanced at her gear propped up next to her, at the Slig semi-automatic rifle and the Outlaw shotgun. There was a pregnant pause.
“Because I can.” Bailey whispered finally. She then frowned and looked at Stranger a third time and this time she held his gaze, those luminous, neon green eyes really were fascinating.
“I haven’t seen you use crossbow bolts, what d’you use in that crossbow of yours?”
“Critters.”
“
Critters?” Stranger laughed at Bailey’s expression
“Yeah, critters, literal Live Ammo.” Bailey’s expression became curious and she blinked innocently at him,
“Oh you
have to explain this.” So he did.
Zappflies, he explained were small gnat type flying bugs that gave off electrical charges when annoyed and were good at stunning Outlaws, if a Zappfly was actually charged up enough and hit an Outlaw right on target then it’s charge could stop the heart.
Next he got a Chippunk out of his ammo bag and let Bailey hold the still groggy, legless rodent. It looked like a small, legless, red-brown and white skunk.
“Wait a sec, I’ve seen these!”
“Have you now.” Stranger grinned,
“Yeah,” Bailey frowned at the creature in her hands, “Just spouted abuse at me, sounded like it was on crack.” Stranger cocked his head to one side curiously,
“Crack?”
“Never mind…” Bailey muttered, “Here, take this back, if it starts up it’ll bring down every living thing on top of us.”
“Yer have no idea how right yer are.” Stranger chuckled and stuffed the Chippunk back with the rest of Live Ammo
“So what about the others?”
“Well, there’s the Bolamites, yer can only use the young ones because the adults are too big ta fit in me crossbow.”
“No kidding…” muttered Bailey, remembering the monstrosity that had nearly taken her head off.
“The Stunkz, look like larger black and white versions of the Chippunks but they let off this cloud of green, noxious gas, makes the Outlaws puke their guts out until I bags ‘em.”
“Why ain’t you affected by them then?” Bailey asked,
“I dunno, but if you really tick them off they produce a stench so mind-numbingly horrible, it creates a local vacuum, sucks all non-natives into it.” Bailey grinned evilly.
“Nice.”
“Extremely. Now there’s the Fuzzles-”
“Fuzzles? Sorry but that doesn’t sound too scary.” Stranger grinned,
“Fuzzles, are nothin' but fur and teeth. Okay, a couple of liddle eyeballs too. But when yer shoot ‘em they savage everything and anything they come into contact with, very nasty lil’ critters.” Bailey just blinked at him. “Then’s there’s the Thudslugs,” Stranger continued, “When they’re scared they roll up into balls and they have
very hard shells, stuns yer target if you hit ‘em. If it’s at point black range sometimes they’ll vaporise the target completely.”
Stranger told Bailey about Boombats – little flying creatures that exploded on impact, Stingbees – little bugs that were fired in a rapid stream for a continuous spray of razor sharp needles. And lastly, the Sniper Wasps, combined with binoculars they were clean, silent killers, a single shot could take out any enemy without attracting any undue attention.
After Stranger’s lecture on ‘Live Ammo’ Bailey yawned widely and blinked drowsily.
“Think it’s time yer went to sleep.”
“Burr whadda ‘bout, sendry dudy.” Bailey slurred sleepily,
“I’ll takes it, ye sleep now kid.” Bailey muttered something incomprehensible before yawning again and drifting off to sleep, head in her arms.