Chapter Text
Bow drawn.
Moving at a steady yet hastened pace.
Anticipating anything that might be on the trail.
Anything that wasn’t Low and the two other scouts behind him.
He had walked this trail countless times, trees getting thicker and thicker as the dirt and rocks kicked up beneath his feet. The wind grew silent the further they wandered from the village.
Low kept his guard up, as he did any day outside the walls.
The two other scouts, however, didn’t share the same hyper-vigilance.
They had been walking for what must have been 2 hours now. It would be understandable that doing the same thing over and over, while taking longer and longer each time, would dull the senses to the outside world, but not to Low. It was why he had chosen to take on the role of a scout in the first place.
They had started to venture out further in search of supplies recently, as anywhere closer had been picked clean of anything that could aid their richly populated village.
No space was left uninhabited; huts and tents within the walls filled with the sound of kids playing and chatting, while the older ones ran errands to maintain the village and ensure everyone’s health, happiness, and safety within their newfound home. And it was all thanks to Mono.
Mono.
A peculiar guy, that one.
He was the reason Low had a place to stay, but there was something about the boy that made him uneasy.
Maybe it was the bag over his head that concealed his identity?
Couldn’t be, Low had a mask that hid his face just the same:
A white raven mask atop the upper half of his face, with a chip on the left side where the eye was winked. There was a permanent scar on his eye that left a mark on the skin just underneath where the mask was nicked.
Fitting really.
And maybe it was also befitting for a boy with a brown bag over his head to wear clothing just as drab too.
Low was certainly described as the opposite. Bright blue and red beads at the ends of the two twists on both his sideburns, along with the rather plain tattered shirt and shorts underneath a cloak densely lined with raven feathers, made thicker around the neck and shoulders, and draped down to conceal his form.
Not to mention what others deemed unnecessary: the bandages on both his arms and feet with no recent injuries underneath.
If Mono’s chosen appearance didn’t make much sense, his own certainly made even less.
He couldn’t really say any of that to his face; that was his boss. He knows better than to disrespect him for what was essentially no actual reason, especially with everything he had done to give them the life they have now.
Mono had been the one to send out the order to Low and his scout team:
Check the nearby cabin for any adults to ensure the scavs’ safety.
Low had obliged, as he did every other time.
That was his routine: discover new areas, map them out, and investigate for anything that could be useful.
Information…
It was what determined whether or not you lived or died within the Nowhere: the knowledge of where to run and hide, of when it was wise to stay or retreat, of how to differentiate friend from foe, and of what the noises of another kid were versus an adult.
Low had had his fair share of run-ins with adults; it was to be expected in his field of work. But every encounter usually ended without a peep. It wasn’t worth endangering himself and his fellow scouts to take down one adult. Their job was to assess danger, not confront it.
This time would be no different.
Low broke away from the thoughts that kept him preoccupied during the latter half of the journey. When they saw a derelict cabin slowly come into view, their steps became quieter and more deliberate as they neared the wooden exterior.
Penn—one of the two scouts with tan skin, a slightly freckled face with rich brown curls, and a pale blue tunic under his wooden armor—audibly let out what was between a sigh and a groan of relief upon seeing the cabin, albeit quietly.
Loore—the second scout, also clad in wooden armor with a dark red hood over her head and a loose, dirty blonde ponytail—seemed just as sick of all the walking.
Low wanted to shush Penn in annoyance and call Loore out for treating such a task so lightly, but restrained himself.
If the scavs could make the distance hauling a large wagon and bring it back to the village brimming with items, these two could certainly handle a long walk.
Not that they were carrying much to warrant the complaining; the pair only had basic supplies in case of emergencies. Low, however, chose not to have a backpack—having stated a long time ago that it would only slow him down.
Still, would it kill him to have more armor—in addition to the wooden guards on his knees and elbows—like the other two scouts??
Their small size allowed them to slot themselves through a white wooden fence, and they pressed up against the wall of the cabin as they made their way to its leftmost side—completely ignoring the front door. They knew exactly where they needed to go; It wasn’t their first time checking this cabin, and they knew another way in.
Careful not to fall into the massive sinkhole beside it, they crawled through a crack in the wall leading underneath the floorboards.
The space was never meant for anyone to be in—only the littlest, forced to scamper and crawl through the structures like rats and insects, built by those who would crush them without a second thought. It was safer out of sight, especially when they had no clue if anything was home. Since the scavs were meant to walk above, it was the scouts’ responsibility to stay hidden to make sure the scavs could later.
Low’s feathered cloak trailed on the ground, dust and fallen cobwebs beneath it clinging on as the ends swept over them. Penn and Loore followed behind him as he led them to a loose board just underneath a massive bed, being able to lift the piece of wood up just enough to fit through, but not enough to fit back down—a one-way entrance.
They had agreed to make their way through the cabin, starting from the inside and moving out—covering each room until they reached the back door, then check the outdoor greenhouse on their way to leave.
It was always the same thing: the familiar sound of tapping as they all trod the wooden floor from room to room, each wall lined with pictures and taxidermied heads of other unfortunate residents and large animals on their frames.
Low shuddered at the sight of them. Though, was it really any different from his cloak?
Turning his attention away from the creatures now devoid of life, he and the scouts made their way through the assortment of rooms within the cabin as quietly as they could—hiding under cabinets and tables and behind anything they could use if a Resident happened to turn a corner and surprise them.
But nothing came of it so far; They pressed on.
The cluttered work area near the bedroom was chock-full of sewing materials, old clothes, pelts, and sacks of stuffing scattered so thickly that it felt like inhaling any of the air would fill your lungs with cotton.
As Penn and Loore peeked into the doorframe and saw nothing, they turned to move on to the next, only to halt when they heard the soft thumping of Low entering the room and climbing atop the table onto the sewing machine.
The raven-cloaked boy reached for the clock mounted on the wall.
For how different each device looked, they were all useless just the same. Sometimes the numbers would be switched, missing, or have other symbols entirely, as well as the hands varying in speed and direction.
This one was broken, the arms of the clock both stuck pointing to the ‘6’ at the bottom. While it looked like nothing but a bunch of wood and glass to every other set of eyes, Low knew that within it were bits of metal and gears that could be used for other things.
He shifted his cloak to reveal his right side: a belt made of rope with an arrow quiver with multiple pockets sewn onto it. He stuffed the clock into the large back compartment of the quiver, the circular form visible through the fabric.
He patted his bag down as he was once again cloaked by dark feathers.
Then he looked over to Penn and Loore, who were staring.
…
“What?”
“Taking things is for the scavs he said…” Penn snarkily remarked through his teeth as Loore giggled.
“Okay, this isn’t for the village, so it’s not like I’m pocketing anything,” Low says, his shoulders seemingly doing the talking for him.
Penn crosses his arms with a smug grin on his face. “Hm, it kinda is. I mean, Alone is a part of the village, isn’t she?”
Low didn’t reply to that.
He simply jumped down from the sewing machine and onto the wooden floor, getting between Loore and Penn as he walked past—but not before lightly hitting Penn in the back of the head, which made Loore hold back another laugh.
“You know how she is, always with the tinkering and her ‘trinkets’ or whatever she called them. Maybe New Dream should be thankful I’m feeding the beast. I know Ardy should, with all the pestering I’m saving the poor guy,” Low states with a light smile on his face, his back straight as if he were above the two.
In fact… he was above the two. As the leader of the scouts, Penn and Loore worked directly under him for any direction. Leading them was his responsibility, as was making sure his fellow scouts didn't get hurt.
With the clock secured, it was time to move on.
The damp, moldy bathroom, with the eternally leaking faucet, was unchanged since their last visit.
The kitchen remained untouched.
No signs of life outside of remnants of what used to inhabit the place.
There were only two spots left: the living room, where they neared the back exit into the greenhouse, and the spare storage room, which they were currently on their way to check.
However, once they arrived at the spare storage room, they found it was closed.
Low huffs an annoyed sigh from his lips and gestures to Penn, running ahead and kneeling. Low cupped his hands together to prepare to boost up the other scout.
Locked doors weren’t something out of the ordinary, an expected roadblock one would have in their journey that would impede progress. You either had to rely on your own wits and determination to find another way forward or take another route.
Yet he wonders…
They had explored this cabin before…he didn’t close that door, did he? Doing so would have been idiotic on his part; Every entrance was an opportunity for an exit. And this? This was-
Heavy thumping.
A loud, guttural groaning noise muffled through the wood, the breathing audible even from the outside as the knob rattled.
The three scouts froze. It only took a split second for Low’s mind to catch up.
There was an adult inside.
He ran to grab the two, taking them by the wrist while their stiffened forms stumbled at the sudden change in direction.
They understood they needed to move, but where?
Low’s eyes darted around the room for anything to keep them from being discovered.
Hide in the bathroom? They risk the adult coming in to check and locking the door behind itself when it leaves.
Run to the back door? They’ll be spotted before they make it.
Underneath the tables in the hall? Too tall, they would stick out like a sore thumb.
All that was left was a low cupboard opposite the door, except its legs weren’t high enough for them to fit at their current height. There wasn’t enough space for them to crouch under.
Unless-
“Roll,”
He hissed firmly as he let go of the scouts’ arms and swiftly slid, rolling on his side to fit underneath the cupboard. His back hit the wall to make room for the other two. With what little time they had to react, Penn almost hit his head on the edge of the cupboard as he couldn’t roll his body as briskly as Low did, but was still able to make it into the tight space. Loore slid after him as she let the momentum of her run bring her down, leading with her right foot and-
The door creaked open.
Just as Loore was barely under the cupboard’s shadow.
The sound of labored breathing filled the air of what was thought to be an uninhabited home, heavy and oppressive.
The boots of the monster thumped with the bulk of the rest of its being, slowly and deliberately.
One. Two.
Each step filled the scouts with dread as their hearts raced.
It took a couple more steps…
Three. Four. Five.
Closer…
The vibrations of its hefty feet rang in their heads and through the wooden boards as they tried to silence their life force.
Six…
It blocked all the light that could shine through the view from beneath. They saw nothing but the form of the adult in front of them. Nothing but shadow and the boots that could crush them until they were nothing but shards of bone and thick red paste.
Low held his breath as he tried to keep his racing heart from pounding out of his chest.
He had to do something. Fast.
But there was nothing he could see.
Nothing he could do.
He couldn’t cause a distraction; There wasn’t enough space to draw his bow.
Maybe he could pull the two closer.
Low was the furthest from the cupboard opening.
Penn was right in front of him at arm’s length; he couldn’t see the boy’s face, but he could see his form trembling slightly as he tried to keep himself still.
But he knows any movement at this distance could cause the slightest noise. The sound of shifting skin or shuffling fabric on wood would alert the adult that something alive was underneath the cupboard.
And Loore…
Loore had it right in front of her.
She didn’t dare move. She lay still with her eyes wide open.
What else could she do?
What could he do?
She was just out of reach.
He couldn’t direct Penn in the state the boy was in.
There was nothing he could do to save her.
All it would take was for the adult to bend over and…
Seven. Eight. Nine…
It simply walked away.
Ten. Eleven. Twelve…
They lay there motionless, watching the adult intently as it left.
Their hearts were still beating out of their chest with their hands over their mouths.
The adult made a turn,
And into the living room.
Which was right in between the back door and the front.
Great.
It took them a minute to steady their breathing and release the tension in their muscles.
Their lungs wanted to drag in as much air as they could, but instead settled for thin, quiet, controlled pulls. Every inhale was uncomfortable, but it was necessary to practice restraint.
They couldn’t stay here, not anymore.
They had the information they needed, but not the information they wanted. Their priority now was to get out of there alive.
“Psst.”
Low called the attention of the scouts as he crawled flat on his stomach to reach them.
Loore scrambled frantically as her hand reached out for their leader.
“Low-” She called, as Low held his hand out to grasp hers into a firm, yet reassuring grip.
“Hey-hey-hey.. It’s okay.” The boy whispered; he kept his voice down but made sure his words rang sincere to comfort the girl.
She shook her head, “I-I’m sorry I wasn’t fast enough, I-”
“Shhh…” He said, putting a finger to his lips and pointing in the direction of the adult.
“It’s alright, I didn’t have much time to think either…” He looked over to Penn, who seemed to blankly stare at the thin streaks and patterning of the wood they were atop of.
Penn’s chest was rising and falling at an accelerated pace.
“Penn? You okay?” Low asked.
The other boy lightly gasped as he was broken from his daze; his eyes seemed to shake even as he looked into Low’s.
Penn took a few breaths, gulping as he spoke. “Y-Yeah.”
Not a lot of words, but understandable given the situation.
Even if being a scout meant deliberately facing the dangers of the Nowhere, it didn’t mean those who signed up were fearless.
With Loore and Penn, he couldn’t blame them. There were many kids in the village who had been through a lot, even those who claimed to be afraid of nothing.
Everyone was afraid of something.
Even him.
Facing adults this close was uncommon, some may say even rare.
The scouts kept to faraway vantage points and sneaked around to confirm whether the abominations roamed the area. They didn’t need to go any further, but this case led them right to it.
He should have known better than to be so careless. How could he forget about the door? Low shook his head. He’d have to apologize later; they needed to move.
Low gave Penn a nod, then to Loore.
“Our only exits are the back door and the front; windows are a no-go, we would make too much noise.” Low pointed in the direction the adult had left. “Our safest bet is the back, it’s the closest, and we can make a break for it through the forest when it notices.”
“Isn’t that still near the adult? What about the vents? Is there anywhere else we could try?” Penn asked.
Low shook his head disapprovingly. “The only vent we know of is the one in the living room, and it’s obvious we can’t go in there now, can we?”
“But what if it’s locked?” Loore raised.
Low hadn't thought about that.
They hadn’t checked if it was open since that was the last spot in their search. The adult may have very well locked it already; any plans they could formulate revolving around the back door would be for naught if they were caught fiddling with the lock.
Low gave Loore a nod of approval. “So the front door then. I doubt that thing would think about locking itself inside for whatever reason. We just need to make our way out.”
An understanding came between the three.
Crawling their way out of the cramped cabinet, they made sure to hide behind everything they could to avoid detection. Behind wilted potted plants, crawling underneath tables, inside the darkness of fallen over crates, even if they were out of sight, it was good to stay in the shadows.
They halt on the left side of the living room doorway, crouched beneath a small table with a framed picture displayed atop. Low kept himself close to the ground as he peered into the room, eyes scanning for anything they could use. The two scouts follow behind him with light steps.
The sounds of ripping paper tore through their ears as the creature hunched over a table, its back to the doorway. Flicking through and destroying page after page as it mumbled and growled to itself.
Low could see the adult wore the usual hunting gear: a thick jacket and the heavy boots they had heard earlier, but that wasn't the most striking part.
From behind, he could see the adult had a pale white animal skull for a head, with antlers protruding from its forehead. It was… unique to say the least, but he couldn’t dwell on it.
Even if it was busy, they couldn't risk detection—not with the cabin drowning in silence, as it would certainly notice something amiss when they attempted to open the front door.
Low examined the room further until his eyes landed on the TV.
Low’s eyes sparked.
They were lucky the adult never got their hands on a model with a remote. This one had a button instead—proven by Penn turning it on out of curiosity during one of the previous times they’d been there.
He remembered when Loore chewed the boy out for being so impulsive. She gave Penn an earful that day, much to Low's amusement at not having to scold the freckled boy himself. He was almost proud of her for doing so.
Maybe he should be thankful for Penn’s curiosity; he would have no idea if the thing even worked if the boy hadn't tested it before.
Penn was reckless, but he supposed the brunet still had a place on the team.
Low broke away from his thoughts, turning to meet the pair behind him.
Low gestured to himself, then to a faraway shelf just past the living room to the right of the doorway. He clenched his palm, then opened his hand to gesture to the two to follow ahead.
The two nodded in unison.
Low looked back at the adult, then to the empty screen as he drew his bow and aimed for the button.
Click.
Unintelligible gibberish rang through the cabin— a cacophony of artificial sounds drowned out the silence, while the monochrome glass illuminated the room with its lights flickering onto the floor.
Low had his eyes locked on the monster just enough to see the adult look up in surprise before he pulled himself back behind the doorframe.
Good, take the bait.
One…Two…
The ever-so-familiar sounds of the steps of a creature stupid enough to turn its attention away at the slightest disturbance.
Low needed to take his chance. He kept his steps light, the bandages on his feet softening the sound as he moved across the wooden floor, past the open doorway, and into a blind spot behind the shelves side. The front door was just a few meters ahead.
He had enough time to glance at the adult, who became preoccupied with finding the reason for the sudden activity of the glowing box.
Low gestured for the scouts to come over. Penn led first while Loore followed behind him.
Penn's crouch halfway turned into a light jog, trying to get to the other side as fast as possible, until-
Click.
The sound of static ceased in the air as Penn’s step caused a loud creak to go through the cabin.
A huff came from the living room.
Low quickly pulled him into the shelf’s shadow as the boy almost tripped over himself.
Penn was in his arms,
But not Loore.
Loore had only been halfway there.
She quickly pulled herself away from trying to reach the shelf and ran back to the table, trying to hide behind one of the legs.
Penn almost ran after her in some vain attempt to pull her into the corner with them, until he felt the pressure of a hand pressed upon his chest. It was Low, with his back against the shelf, who shook his head as he pushed Penn against the wall with him.
Don't. Move.
The heavy steps of the adult were making its way out of the living room.
Its boots once again, the only thing they could fixate on.
It got closer and closer to the source of the disturbance, the two boys feeling its presence grow louder with each step as they pressed their backs further.
Please don’t take her…
Not now…
Not when they couldn't look over to see their scout member one last time.
They could hear it.
Moving.
To the left…
…Their left.
They had been the source of the noise right after the monster flicked the TV off.
It hadn't spotted Loore…
It would have been a relief if they weren't its actual target.
There was nowhere to hide; unlike the cupboard, which had legs, the shelf was flat on the ground. Running anywhere would be futile, given how little area they could cover before the adult could grab them.
Pressing themselves further into the corner would do nothing but show cowardice, a sign that prey had nowhere to run.
Except Low wouldn't let that happen, not to his team.
Low grabbed the boy and threw his feather cloak over their forms. Pulling the feathered hood over his head, he held Penn tightly in his arms, closer to his chest as he kneeled—an attempt to compress themselves further into a smaller being. The cloak was only ever made for one person, but he'd be damned if he left someone he cared about to fend for themselves.
He would never let anyone feel as vulnerable as he once did.
The cloak was meant for camouflage in the wilderness, where decaying remains and animal carcasses were more than prevalent. Nothing would have batted an eye at a heap of dead ravens, some even considering their deaths a blessing.
But inside an inhabited home where every little thing was placed deliberately and taken into account by its respective owner?
They held their breath.
Played dead as the rumbling of the large adult loomed over them.
A sound of confusion came from the creature.
They kept their eyes shut.
It knew they weren't supposed to be there.
The shifting of fabric amplified in their ears.
Its gloved hand sounded as if it opened, moving closer.
They could feel the warmth coming from its palm behind them.
SCCCCRATCH
The feathered form flinched. The unpleasant noise shook their skulls, so discomforting that it felt as if the sound had seeped into their nerves.
The adult whipped its head at the source fast enough not to notice the movement of the feathered pile.
It was Loore, knife in hand, with a large gash carved into the wooden floor.
Low's head poked out from the feathered disguise.
What was she doing?!
She looked him in the eyes, a face of bravery plastered over what he knew to be fear.
Low knew she was a hardy girl despite her timid nature, even more so considering she was also the type who hated feeling useless. Was she trying to make up for earlier? If so, this was extreme.
It wasn't even her fault…
Their gaze broke away as the girl bolted further down the hall.
The adult gave chase; she was trying to buy them time.
Except,
The creature lunged, a blur of bulk that Loore couldn’t follow.
One heartbeat, it was behind her; the next, it blocked the hall ahead. Every step she thought she’d measured had vanished.
It took only a second for Loore to react as she stumbled back and fell onto her behind. She couldn't turn around fast enough to run the other way; it crouched down with its large hand outstretched, reaching out and-
An arrow shot right into its hollow eye.
It growled in pain, or more so, annoyance at the intrusion in its socket.
Loore looked behind her. Low stood with his bow drawn.
“Go for the door! I'll hold it off!” He yelled, keeping his aim on the monster to line up another shot.
Loore kicked herself off the floor and shuffled, running for the exit past Low. Penn did the same and made a run for it while Low took another shot near its ankle.
The thing was ridiculously fast and already knew of their presence; aggravating it would only make things worse.
Even more concerningly, the arrows couldn't seem to pierce deep enough to cause any real damage. Affecting the monster more like splinters rather than an active threat.
The adult shook itself, huffing with rage like an angry bull as it reached for the arrow lodged in its empty socket.
Low needed something bigger, and quickly, before it came for him next.
He shut his left eye and aimed.
Above it.
There was a taxidermied head of another adult mounted atop the wall, cotton spilling out its seams as it was stuffed to the brim, so that the previously living skin had stretched itself out. Held up only by a string hung over a single crooked nail.
He took a sharp breath; it was too far away to see clearly for an accurate shot.
But he had to take his chances.
The bandages absorbed the sweat on his palms as he pulled back.
He stopped himself from shaking,
and fired.
The arrow whizzed past the skullface's antlers.
And,
Bullseye.
The arrow hit the loose nail with a clink before it fell. The taxidermied head plummeted with the weight of the mount. Impaling itself onto the adult's massive antlers, cotton spilling from its tears, and nearly throwing the monster off balance from the change of mass. It struggled to free its antlers from the sudden intrusion, which obscured its vision and had it thrashing about like a wild animal.
“LOW!”
Loore yelled for their leader louder than Low had ever heard from her before. He whipped his head to see they’d already undone the knob.
His feet followed through as soon as his eyes met the light peering through the open door. He sprinted for escape as the pair stepped outside to break into a run of their own.
Hurriedly making their way out the door and jumping over the stairs, the sounds of the bonehead reverberated even outside the cabin.
They weren't safe yet.
Not on the ground.
Low took the lead, his longer legs allowing for wider strides as he turned back to the trail they’d come from. He stopped at the nearest tree and unsheathed two climbing knives from his quiver pockets.
“Up!” He yelled as he drove the knives into the bark and hauled himself up.
The pair skidded to a stop, reaching for their own knives as they followed. Their blood pumped once more as the only thing on their mind was to get to higher ground.
Climb.
Just a little bit higher.
They reached branches that were thick enough to hold their weight. Knives stowed as they climbed from branch to branch, higher into the leaves.
They stopped on a branch long enough for the three of them, almost entirely concealed, save for a narrow gap only they could peer through.
Then, they kept their heads low.
After a few moments, the adult barged outside, hitting the door with a loud thud—heaving with fury at the intruders that dared to infiltrate its home and ruin its creations.
It looked around…
To its left… then its right…
But not above…
It panted heavily once more…
Until it huffed one last time, lowering its shoulders and slamming the door behind it.
They held the silence.
Before Low realized how little he had been breathing.
He let out a heavy sigh and gasped for air. He had been holding his breath despite the exertion it took to climb up. He clutched his chest before lying on his back, letting his arms and legs dangle in the wind as he panted.
The two other scouts did the same, the relief of oxygen beginning to move freely in and out of their lungs. Penn had leaned to the side, resting a hand on the bark of the tree, while Loore lay flat on her stomach.
A close call, better tell the boss.
Wouldn't want the scav brothers to have to run into that thing.
After a few moments of catching their breath, the scouts had managed to clear their heads enough to begin the journey back.
Low dug his knife into the trunk and slid down; the feathers of his cloak made him look as if he were gliding through the air.
He raised his head to see his two companions follow suit.
They all shared a glance before they all took to the trail once again.
They had to create distance before they truly felt safe enough to utter a single word.
An hour into the way back, the three decided it was time for an actual break. Finding a formation of rocks that looked comfortable enough to sit and wind down.
Penn groaned as he ran towards it and let himself lie flat on the rock, his legs dangling over its edge.
“Finally!” Penn lazily fumbled through the bag beside him as he pulled out a half-eaten loaf of bread. “That was terrible! Let's never do that again!”” He said as he stuffed the loaf into his mouth.
Low felt himself scoff under his breath. Safety is never guaranteed, even if they had New Dream to rely on, that didn’t hold for the rest of the Nowhere. Danger was something to be expected and accounted for at all times.
To always expect yourself to be in the face of death and torment at every turn.
Which…
Wasn’t a very healthy way to live at 16—even more so, that Penn and Loore were noticeably younger than him.
So he had refrained from retorting to the freckled boy.
As scouts from previous teams transitioned into guard duty, taking shifts at the gates or on patrol, the scouting parties continued operating as usual. Low retained overall command, though Mono deliberately assigned him to guide and mentor the two newest scouts.
…
Everything seemed to be Mono’s decision.
Always cooped up in that tent… like a bird in a cage.
Low shook himself once again as he felt his eyebrows furrow at the thought.
Now wasn’t the time to be thinking about that stuff; Reporting back to Mono was for future-Low to worry about.
Just beside Penn, Low sat on the ground, leaning against the large boulder Penn lay atop rather than its flat surface. He flicked his feathered cloak aside and reached for his quiver, withdrawing paper and a pencil from a side compartment to mark his map and jot down the details of their encounter.
Low unfurled his map, crudely scribbling an ‘X’ on the far-out cabin they had just been to.
He tapped the pencil to his lip, trying to recall the face of the adult they just encountered. It was certainly wearing a deer skull, but he wasn't privy to staring the thing in the face at the time. However, it was enough information to sketch its head just near the drawing of the cabin. Low wrote down the notes “Really fast. Don’t approach.” with three large exclamation points at its side.
He looked upon his work, a bit too simple for his liking, but it conveyed what was needed.
His eyes drifted further down the page to what was there previously.
A drawing of a heart was at the very middle of the page, surrounded by drawings of other structures, ones that were either scribbled out or also had ‘X's on them, marking which areas were empty and no longer needed searching, and which ones were inhabited by Residents.
He tilted his head curiously; the cabin he just marked was nearing the edge of the paper already. He needed to expand soon. At this rate, their walks would surely exceed 2 hours.
Penn and Loore definitely wouldn’t be happy about that…
He heard a faint shuffling noise nestle beside him, his attention leaving the piece of paper as he saw a familiar red hood.
Loore.
She hasn't spoken since they escaped the cabin.
Low drew his map back into his quiver compartment and lowered his posture to meet her.
“Hey…Loore?” He called her attention, unsure of what she was feeling under the hood, until she met his eyes.
A look of worry upon her features, she looked expectant of something. Crestfallen…
Low felt himself frown; he knew what he had done.
He wouldn’t blame her for feeling disappointed in him for failing them as a leader. Low was supposed to keep the pair out of trouble; that was his job. And yet he hadn’t realized a Resident was there until it was too late. If he’d spotted the door sooner, they could’ve left before the adult knew they’d been there.
He sighed internally; he knew apologies never made up for anything, but she still deserved one.
Low took a breath before he spoke.
“I'm.. sor-”
“I'm sorry!”
The girl cut him off.
The sudden declaration took him aback as he stuttered a reply, “W-what? I mean,” He cleared his throat before he straightened up “for what?”
The girl took a slow inhale, her chest rose and fell, eyes downcast.
“For being such a burden…”
Her words discomfited Low, but he let her continue.
“I know I could've done more…but you had to save me and-”
Loore felt a weight on her shoulder as Low rested his hand to reassure her.
Low gave her a sure look. “You don't have to apologize. Believe me, I should be the one apologizing to you.”
His voice was firm, yet laced with care.
“It was careless of me not to notice that the cabin was occupied sooner. My job as your leader is to guide you both and to make sure no one gets hurt.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he continued, “...And I sure as hell messed that up so… I'm sorry.” He put a hand up to his chest, signalling that his words came directly from his heart as he did so.
“But we didn't, though?” A muffled voice from above him posited. One that clearly should have swallowed his bread first.
Penn gulped before he spoke, “Look at me, not a single scratch! Maybe a little bit from all the running and climbing, but no cuts or bites or nothin’!” he said as he lifted his arms as wide as he could, showing that he had gotten no new wounds or scars.
“What about you, Loore?” Penn leaned as he sat cross-legged atop the boulder. Low diverted his gaze to Loore.
Loore was surprised; she lifted her elbows, the back of her arms, her legs, and her feet.
Nothing. She shook her head in confirmation.
“See! So you didn't fail! And whatever Loore did? That took guts!”
Loore felt a smile creep up her lips, playing with the end of her loose ponytail as she spoke.
“Yeah, I guess so… thanks.”
“He's right.” Low said loud and clear, Loore and Penn turning to their leader. “If it weren't for you, that knucklehead would've taken Penn and me to be a part of its weird doll collection! You saved our lives. We owe you one, Loore, really.” He gave her a light jab on the arm.
Loore smiled softly at the sentiment. She felt proud of herself. Lightly stroking her hair as she looked away.
He knew the type of person she was: hardworking, humble, and tough despite her quiet exterior.
It wasn’t often that Loore could be recognized and commended for her efforts. But she deserved the praise, even if she didn’t say anything about it.
It reminded him of Alone in a way.
Which reminded him…
He reached for the large quiver compartment to pull out the noticeably circular object he had taken from the cabin. He didn't have time to get a good look at it until now.
He held the clock up as the sunlight reflected off the glass, hints of gold glistening from the frame of the object.
“What is that?” Loore leaned in, trying to get a better look at the apparatus.
Low turned it towards her. “It's a clock. It was used to tell time, or at least they used to.”
“But we see those everywhere! What do adults need to know the time for?” Penn asked.
“I don't know… maybe they settled into a routine. Like we do, maybe so much so that they stopped needing to rely on them altogether.” Low tilted the clock to inspect it further. “How reliable this thing is, however… debatable.”
Loore scooted closer to the raven-masked boy, reaching her hands out to signal she wanted a closer look. Low acknowledged this and handed the clock to her. Loore traced the golden pattern along the surface with a finger. There were silhouettes of flowers and what looked to be grass, with galloping deer, juxtaposed against the dark oak frame of the clock. It was truly unique.
“I'm sure Alone can find a way to fix it; it's very pretty.” She said as she handed the clock back to Low, who gave her a nod.
Indeed, it was. Low examined the clock further in his hands.
Why would that bonehead ever have anything that looked so nice in such a shabby place? Especially in that messy work area where everything was thrown about without a care.
The glass at the front was already cracked, but not enough for it to shatter and fall in on itself.
He traced it carefully with his finger.
Beyond the broken glass, the clocked arms sat motionless, ornate in design…carefully crafted.
Designed to be turning and turning, every hour of every day.
Over and over.
Sinking deeper and deeper.
Lower and lower.
Like a never-ending spiral.
It's been a long time since then…
“Low?”
The boy flinched, called to attention from the short trance he was in.
The two scouts were already standing, their bags strapped on respectively.
“Don't we need to go? I think you've spent enough time staring at that thing.” She giggled lightly.
Low sat up, stuffing the clock back into the compartment of his quiver.
“Oh, yeah. Sorry to keep you guys waiting. The village isn’t much farther now.”
They continued their journey, the sun still shone through the trees even after they left bright and early that day. It seemed they still had a lot to do back home even after what they’d just gone through.
The trees began to thin out, relief washing over the three as they knew home wasn't too far.
And there it was, the gate still standing tall after all those years.
Loore and Penn raced each other to the entrance. Low let out a soft chuckle as the two tried to best one another while he walked at a calm and steady pace.
Then, as he was met with the large doors, he turned his head up.
“Greeney!” Low yelled, knowing the guard was definitely going to hear him and see him waving his arm from below. “Buddy! It's us! Let us in!”
It took a few moments before he could faintly see the silhouette of the boy in green leaning over the wall.
“Low?! You're supposed to show your arm band!”
“Come on, you already know it's us! Just let us in already!” Low called out again, this time fumbling through his quiver to show his wrinkled arm band, waving it like a flag.
Low could hear mumbling from above, clearly annoyed.
“Low?”
Another voice yelled out, this time, a girl's. Her voice was a sound he could easily recognize anywhere, given how much she spoke.
“Jess?”
“Bingo!” She said with enthusiasm, “Give us a second! Greeney's being a bit of a grump today!” She giggled as he uttered his name.
“Am not!”
Low heard from above. He could tell that Greeney’s retort was only meant for Jess, though Greeney’s voice was loud enough that he and the two other scouts could hear him clearly from all the way on the ground.
Low rolled his eyes in amusement while Penn and Loore snorted at the guard's huffy denial.
A moment later, the sound of the gate unlocking could be heard from inside. The mechanisms turned and pulled at the doors as they made way for the three scouts.
Welcome back to New Dream.