[LoboDiabloLoneWolf]

Okay, just a note, I only have other fictions to work off with the geography, town names etc so if I use something you created, sorry but I don’t know any better.

And has anyone ever gotten these leg cramps while they’re asleep? It flippin’ hurts I can tell you.

Cramps And Sawing Logs

Bailey slept with one fist pressed under her chin. Somewhere in the middle of the night she rolled over and unconsciously stretched her leg while she was asleep.

Immediately the muscles clenched, part of Bailey’s sub-conscious groaned. Not again.

Sigh.

Bailey sat up quickly and rolled over grabbing hold of one of her arrows and putting the shaft between her teeth before the pain set in.

It did. A moment later. Excruciating pain engulfed Bailey’s entire lower leg. Bailey uttered a muffled sound and bit down on her arrow to stop from screaming.

She was sat, clutching at her leg, head bowed when Stranger was woken up by her muted whimpers.

When you were a bounty hunter, being a light sleeper was always a good thing.

He saw Bailey, moaning to herself and holding one of her legs. Quietly he crawled over.

“Bailey? Bailey what’s up wiv yer?” Bailey blinked by at him, her eyes were wet from the pain. She didn’t speak, just nodded her head towards her leg. “Yer leg hurts?” Bailey nodded vigorously. “How canna help?” Bailey began to rub her leg, to get the blood flowing and relax the taut muscle. Stranger watched what she was doing and the brushed her hands away and copied her actions, rubbing the limb in question.

A few minutes later Bailey took out the shaft from between her teeth and blew air from her cheeks.

“Thanks.”

“Yer get leg cramps?” Bailey nodded and patted her leg.

“It’s an absolute menace.” Stranger smiled briefly, Bailey yawned.

“Go ter sleep squirt.” Bailey nodded and made herself comfortable.

“Yer fell ‘sleep on yer sendry dudy.” She accused sleepily before she drifted off.

“I’m a light sleeper.” Stranger said, but Bailey was already asleep. “G’night Bailey.” Stranger muttered before he drifted off as well.

Bailey jolted awake several hours later. For a couple of seconds she just lay where she was, completely still, eyes staring into the dying embers of the fire, wondering what had woken her.

It became apparent when her she registered the harsh grinding that sounded like someone was sawing at logs with a hack saw.

Bailey sat up abruptly. Aching nausea lanced through her head, Bailey took a deep breath to keep from vomiting. After a moment or too the pain and nausea abated and Bailey looked around for the source of the noise.

It was Stranger. Snoring. Like a rusty chainsaw.

Bailey stifled snickers, half to keep from waking up Stranger and half to stop the headache she was getting from escalating.

She highly doubted anyone would find Stranger half as intimidating if they saw him now. How he managed to sleep in that position was beyond her, and it made the whole thing all the more amusing.

He was lying on his back over a rock, head and legs hanging from the stone, his mouth open and snoring. His hat had fallen off, showing a thatch of pale brown fur, or hair (Bailey still hadn’t decided which) in a creamy coloured pony-tail and two small erect, triangular shaped ears. He didn’t have his poncho on anymore either, just a green undershirt and tan pants. Definitely not as intimidating. She’d got one thing right though. He could certainly rip her in half if he put his mind to it. He had the muscles for it at any rate.

Bailey cracked a grin, what she wouldn’t give for a camera right now. She considered waking him up but decided against it,

“Let ‘im sleep.” She thought and watched him for a bit longer before she stoked the fire and picked up the Slig semi-automatic. She began to clean it with a rag from her pocket, if any of the moving parts got encrusted with too much grim then it would stop working all together. She had to stop and scratch an itch on her forearm a couple of times.

When she’d finished she opened the bullet chamber, it was about three quarters full. For such a small gun it didn’t half had a large bullet capacity. “Need more ammo…” she mused, “Need to get hold of some cash first though.”

“Moolah.” Bailey looked up quickly, she was so engrossed with her gun maintenance she hadn’t noticed Stranger stop snoring and sit up.

“’Ello, how long ‘ave you been up?”

“Few minutes.”

“What’s moolah?”

“It’s tha currency of Oddworld.”

“Ah.” Bailey went back to the gun, checking all it’s parts. When she was satisfied with the results she laid the Slig rifle aside and picked up the Outlaw shotgun, and grimaced. “Holy crud on a stick! This thing’s been through the mill,” she began rubbing the gun with the polishing rag in small intense circles, muttering about people not looking after their things.

“Yer take good care of yer guns.” Stranger commented, nodding in approval,

“Yeah well, if it packed in, I’d be Fleech food.” Stranger cocked his head to one side, the expression he always took when he was getting curious.

“Fleech?” Bailey gave him a completely serious look.

“Believe me, you do not want to know.”

“That bad eh?”

“No, worse.” Stranger sucked his teeth,

“Nasty.”

“You have no idea.”

“Yer had a run in with these Fleeches then?”

“Several and none of them were pleasant or pretty, in fact I nearly got eaten by one at one point.” Bailey put aside the gun and rolled up one leg of her black trousers. On the calf there was a perfectly round mark, three concentric circles that grew redder as they went to the middle and ending with a small red-black dot, in the very centre. “Fleeches,” Bailey grinned strangely, more like a rueful grimace and shook her head slightly, “Nasty beggars.” She rolled down her pant leg again. Stranger was looking at her oddly. Bailey took up the gun again and continued cleaning it. “That’s why I use guns.” Bailey whispered, checking the shotgun’s barrel.

“Why?” asked Stranger in a soft, low voice.

“Close calls are the story of my life.” Bailey said softly, “I’d be dead already if I hadn’t used a gun. I might not like it…but it’s all I got…” Bailey looked up at the still dark sky. “The stars are fading.” She said suddenly. She looked back at Stranger. “When are we starting off again?”

“Right now if yer want.” Bailey nodded,

“Yeh.”

So an hour later, just as the sun was coming up Bailey and Stranger were already on their march again.

“Where are we goin’ anyway?” Bailey asked finally,

“Buzzarton then Birdington.” Bailey blinked and scratched at her arm, it was itching again,

“What the- yer know what? I don’t want to even know.” She kept scratching, the itch stopped.

“There’s hear-tell of a purdy bounty up that ways in Birdington.” Stranger explained,

“Oh really? D’you know anything else?”

“Nope, but I intend to find out.”

“And bring it in yes?”

“You got it.” the pair walked in silence for a while, Stranger in front and Bailey trotting behind, looking at her surrounds, the jungle may have been packed to bursting with horrible little atrocities but it was still a fascinating, beautiful place.

After a minute Bailey’s gaze fell on an unusually straight branch of wood, just a bit taller then she was, in fact it was the perfect shape and length for-

Bailey stepped over a rotting log to the side of the path and picked up the shaft, with her callous, nimble finger she lightly touched the branch in her hands. It was young wood, strong and not brittle or rotten, Bailey used a nail to scrape off some of the bark. The wood underneath was healthy.

“Bailey!”

Stranger’s voice called her name and Bailey scrambled back onto the main track.

“Here.”

“Whadda ya doin’ kid?” Bailey waved the stick in her hand,

“I just got me a new javelin.” She gushed, Stranger blinked, shrugged and started off walking again, Bailey caught up with him and continued inspecting her latest project.

Completely satisfied she got a penknife from the pouch on her belt and flipped it open, after making sure the blade was sharp Bailey began scraping at the wood with it.

It wouldn’t take her long to make a javelin. And it didn’t either.

As they walked and Bailey worked, she didn’t notice Stranger keep glancing back to see what she was up to and why she wasn’t talking much. But he knew not to say anything while she was concentrating.

Finally Bailey finished the last touch, the blade groove at one end of the now pale and completely straight spear shaft and blew the wood shavings from it. She closed up the penknife and replaced it in the pouch and brought out the spear head, wedging it in and finishing it by tying it securely with a coarse twine from her pocket. She twirled the finished product, it was a perfect replacement and hopefully this one wouldn’t snap…

Stranger stepped over a large fallen tree that lay across the path. Bailey, being a lot shorter and therefore with shorter legs slipped the newly constructed javelin into the vacant loop of leather behind her shoulder and scrambled over it as well.

Just then another wave of agonising nausea swept through her head, many times stronger then that morning.

Bailey gasped and nearly fell off the log but she tightened her hold on the fallen log and managed to keep her balance and slid off. Another pulse of pain and sickness passed through Bailey and she staggered to one side, leaning against and upright tree by the road before she slid to the ground, sinking to her knees.

Stranger turned immediately when he heard the thud of Bailey hitting the ground. She was holding her head and whimpers of pain crawled from her like an injured Paramite squeaking it’s distress.

In two strides he was next to the cringing human, Stranger dropped down on one knee and put a huge hand/paw on her shoulder.

Bailey was shaking and she was deathly cold, her skin was a sickly yellow-grey and clammy. Why hadn’t he noticed it before? Bailey was obviously very sick. Stranger began rubbing Bailey’s arms to warm her up.

It didn’t work.

Stranger started getting a bit frantic at this point, Bailey needed heat and the only source he had available was his own body-heat. He gathered the smaller being into his arms, pressing her to his own warm body, Bailey’s forehead on his chest.

“C’mon squirt, yer need ter warm up.” He muttered, “Bailey? Bailey, can yer hear me kid?” Bailey whimpered but nodded shakily. Stranger felt the human’s forehead. Her skin was burning…

The pain in Bailey’s head seared every brain cell with white-hot heat. And then suddenly, it stopped. The pain, the burning heat, the nausea, everything.

Bailey was still for a moment, blinking, confused. Her forehead was resting against something warm. Bailey looked up. Stranger had her in a desperate cuddle. Bailey was somewhat surprised by this. She was about to ask why Stranger had had the sudden urge to give her a hug but Stranger’s neon green eyes gazing into her own hazel-amber ones, looked concerned and stopped her question.

“I’m fine…let me up.” Bailey muttered, Stranger looked like he wasn’t going to let her move for a second but he did and Bailey rose, locking her knees to stay upright.

“What was that!?” Stranger asked, also rising, worry making his voice harsh. Bailey closed her eyes and rubbed her head,

“It was…nothing…”

“Like hell it was!” Stranger exploded, “Bailey, what are yer not tellin’ me!?”

“I’m not-” Bailey broke off and scratched her arm, “That damn itch…” she muttered to herself more then anyone else, but once again Stranger’s keen hearing picked it up.

“What itch? What’s up wiv yer hand?” before Bailey could actually answer Stranger took a firm grip on her hand and stripped off the fingerless glove that covered her hand and some of her arm.

“It’s probably just another Zappfly bite-” Bailey began to say, but stopped. On her arm, just above the wrist was a sore looking swelling the size of an egg and the colour of a day-old bruise. Bailey blinked at it.

Stranger however lifted his gaze from the bite and glared at Bailey,

“When were yer bitten by a Bolamite?” he asked in a furious but low voice. Bailey blinked and looked up,

“W-what? Oh, one of the smaller ones got me when I was strung up. Why?”

“Why? Why!? Bolamite bites are poisonous!” Bailey didn’t have time to even open her mouth before Stranger spoke again, “Yer need ta see Doc. C’mon.” Bailey went to start walking but Stranger stopped her, “Where d’you think yer goin’?” Bailey frowned,

“I thought you just said I need to see a doctor?” said Bailey confused,

“Yer do but you ain’t walkin’ there. More yer move the faster the venom’ll move. I’ll carry yer.”

“WHA’!?” But Stranger wouldn’t hear any of Bailey’s protests and swung her up onto his shoulders, she didn’t weigh very much to him anyway.

“Yer’d better enjoy it while yer can, I won’t be doin’ this again.” Stranger grinned, silencing Bailey’s objections. He heard a frustrated sigh.

“Fine.” Bailey muttered. She propped her chin on Stranger’s head and muttered to herself. This time Stranger didn’t hear her.

¤§¤

Sometime later Bailey began to feel drowsy.

“Stranger.” She muttered, “I’m getting’ a bit-” she yawned. She felt his head vibrating as he chuckled,

“Then go ter sleep if yer tired.” Bailey made a sleepy affirmative and laid her cheek on the top of his head, a few minutes confirmed to Bailey that it wasn’t very comfortable.

Irritable because she couldn’t drop off Bailey took off Stranger’s huge leather hat and then laid her cheek on his hair…or fur…(she still hadn’t decided yet) and put the hat on her own head.

That was definitely more comfortable, even if Stranger’s fur tickled her nose…

Stranger felt Bailey take off his hat but didn’t object, if it let her sleep, well…he’d let it slide.

But just this once.

He just hoped the Bolamite venom hadn’t taken a firm hold on her system. Bailey’s symptoms suggested that it was a female Bolamite bite. The males had the paralysis venom, which caught the prey, but the female venom put the victim into a coma while it liquidised the internal organs, it was how Bolamites fed when they were younger.

“No wonder she doesn’t like arachnids…” he thought, “Hold on Bailey.”