Just before the sun rose, as the reddish-warm glow of the sun crept into the sky and lit the clouds, Jack got roused by another wet, slobbery "kiss" from mama. It was time to get up and start having that "early breakfast", before those other 2-legged crazies could insist on more pointless walking-- or at least, so she smothered him with, along with the kisses.
He stretched, then wandered off a bit and relieved himself in the cold morning air. Mama chided him about marking so much territory already, asking what it was about this place he found so desirable that he had to claim it. Jack's head spun for a moment, before realizing exactly what she was going on about, before he started laughing. He really did not find this food-scarce, and manicured lawn that attractive a place to stay. The only good thing here was mama herself, and he told her so. She teased him a little more about it, but he just chuckled at her.
The dew was heavy all over. If it hadn't been for mama sleeping on top of him, he would probably have gotten pretty cold in the night. He wondered about how the others had slept, but they had a fire nearby to help keep warm with. He still felt like he had the better deal though.
For the next two hours or so, they wandered here and there among the trees, but never too far from the camp (lest they get left behind, or some other fool thing), nibbling on things. Jack helped get the tall things down, and mama dug up the hidden, and buried things, and they made it as pleasant a morning together as they could, --at least without indulging mamas more persistent appetites anyhow. He capitalized on the opportunity to collect any useful plants at the same time, and put them into his bag.
The sun was starting to warm up when he started hearing signs of activity from the camp. He nuzzled, rubbed, and hugged her, then chewed on mama's ears gently, doing his best to imitate happy bear sounds. Mama felt he was hilarious for trying that, but accepted the attention in a glow of warm emotions. He let her know that he needed to check on them, now that they were getting up, but to please continue to try and get that snacking in; He wasn't sure when they would stop again. She turned to a swirl of bittersweetness-- Irritation at the prospect of another day of absurd walking, but pleasure at his genuine concern and understanding about it. She told him to hurry back, (with more undertones that she wouldn't tolerate his wandering off, after "he agreed", hinting very heavily at the exchange they had shared in that darkened room the day before.)-- She would stay there, and keep eating until he did. He rubbed her big hairy head, and kissed the top of it gently, eliciting large eyes from her from the act. She shared that she didn't think she would ever get used to that, and he just chuckled, and chided her that had needed to get used to being slathered in licks, so it was only fair. She nipped at him, and told him that she knew he liked it, and so it wasnt the same. He laughed under his breath, then licked her nose, before asking if that was better. She practically enveloped his face with her maw, and bit gently with a slight shake-- It was the closest thing to a playful "Mock punch" she had. He just laughed the whole while.
He stood up again, and leaned on his walking stick while he shouldered the now very unweildy bag with its bulky contents, and wrapped the frosty staff with the shoulder straps at the top and bottom, to hold it beneath it, then headed back to the encampment.
Dr Doak was up, and looking through the books he had collected. Recognition blasted through the old hermit's memory-- He had been so damn busy last night getting things ready for bed, that he had completely forgotten about going over that shit with the old man. He hailed the fellow cordially (or at least as cordially as he could manage this early), then sat down next to him, then rummaged out his own haul to exchange notes.
Sorry I didn' get back wit' ye las' night... he apologized. Weren't enough time, what with--
The old doctor reassured him that it was fine, and that he had appreciated the effort to bring in dinner, and was eager to go over the things the two of them had collected.
Jack brought out the folded parchment leaves, and that morning's ingredient haul, and passed them to the doctor, while Jack cordially looked over the book the doctor had been peeking into.
It was still in the introductory paragraphs, in the "Methods and Practices" preface, where the text extols the virtues of why it was written in the kind of flowery prose only a closeted intellectual would write in. He was well familiar with it, and just bit his tongue, and kept reading...
--
Need ingredient collection roll.
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Topic: Mystville [Game Thread] (Read 119597 times)