Chapter 14: Yet One More

“What do you mean he needs time alone?” Anna demanded, her expression livid and her voice loud enough to wake the village’s dead.

“When Polly returned,” Tanya protested, “we were convinced Ty was injured and sent her back to summon help. So if you know something, anything, we need to determine whether we can help or not.”

Till had quite the reception, trying to quietly sneak back, the crowds frustrating everyone. With their inherent noise, she discovered everyone awaiting her. If she’d returned without Polly’s earlier arrival, it would’ve been easier explained. Now there was little chance of everyone not leaping to their own, contrary conclusions.

“As I said, he’s fine.” She scuffed her moccasins. “Mostly,” she hedged, frowning, “as he was a bit beat up. More than you’d expect from him wandering through the forest alone.

He was well but...” That ill-advised admission would likely haunt Till for some time.

Tiss and Lor intercepted her before she even neared the village, grilling her fairly extensively in preparation for returning. Yet they accepted he was fine. Her fellow returnees couldn’t be dissuaded into trusting either. The bridge was too broad for even them to cross, despite knowing how resourceful he was.

What’s more, each women appeared to harbor their own worst fears, further complicating the whole discussion. “Did he need space from us, from someone in particular,” Liah pressed, “or is he planning something so dangerous, he hopes to protect us?”

“Yeah, you said he’s injured,” Tanya noted, her trajectory suddenly shifting. “He’s normally comfortable in the wilderness and can handle most everything. What could even get close enough to injure him?”

“Again, it was only a few scratches and bruises, no injuries. What you’d normally get training wild animals. If anything, he was heading into more impenetrable harder to access regions. Nothing more.” Till’s flickering, unsteady eyes revealing her own doubts.

“What kind of injuries?” Anna demanded. “Mere scratches or claw marks? Simple bruises from falling or bruises from being hit with a club or branch?”

“I didn’t conduct a medical exam,” Till protested, searching for some way to escape the unexpected, shifting scrutiny. “He seemed ... scuffed up. Nothing more, nothing less. Like he’d been in a simple scuffle, not fighting for his life.”

“Fighting for his life?” Lor shouted, overhearing the discussion from outside. “You never told us that!”

“There’s nothing to tell,” Till responded, turning away from the women to address those listening from without. “Hell, maybe a dead tree fell on him. Maybe he tripped and struck a branch. How would I know? He wouldn’t discuss it!”

“Wait, he was ‘scuffed’ or ‘scruffed’?” Tanya specified.

“What’s the difference?” Liah asked, unfamiliar with most of the terms they used.

“Scuffed means disheveled or messy. A scruff, means someone or something physically attacked him. Meaning it wasn’t no damn dead tree!”

“Maybe it was merely a disheveled tree,” Tiff suggested, hopping to lighten the oppressive atmosphere.

“I’ll mess with your tree!” Anna threatened. “Just give us a straight answer and stop dancing around definitions and diversions!”

“Hold on,” Liah raised her hands and lowering her voice. “How did he smell? If he was foraging or walking in the forest, he’d likely smell of leaves or pollen. If sweaty, he was working. Though if he stinks of sweat, he was either running or fighting for his life. Hunters, like predators, stalk, conserving energy till they’re ready to kill, then they take their kill and leave.

“If he smells of dried blood with a slight scent of shit, he was likely cleaning a kill. Though if he smelled of animals and sweat heavily, he was likely attacked by one. If he didn’t smell of fur, then probably by a man looking to steal his weapons. So how did he smell, as it reveals everything in our world? Without constantly washing our own scent away, it’s what tells us what someone has been doing.

“If a man is supposedly foraging and comes home smelling of grass, shrubs or dirt, he was likely lying with another woman. Though if he smells of nothing, then he was doing nothing, sitting with friends, avoiding returning home.”

“I, I ... after so many questions,” Till protested, “my memories are too confused.”

“Ah, this one I know,” Anna exclaimed. “Police use it when trying to get information from traumatized victims, too focused on the gun in their face to remember anything else.”

“Gun?” Liah inquired.

“Like Ty’s crossbow, only much louder.” Tanya turned, facing Anna. “If you were involved with police investigations, were you an officer or somehow involved in the investigation?”

Flustered, Anna waved her hands. “Not now. Till, close your eyes, empty you mind, thinking of nothing else, let your mind drift and concentrate on sensations. Think back, how was the wind blowing, what’s underfoot, what do you—”

Till’s nostril’s flared, recalling the forgotten scents. “I’m there! We were in a small open clearing. He’s clearly not exhausted, most likely already cleaned himself off, yet ... there’s a distinct scent. It’s an animal scent, more akin to a large bear than anything else. The kind with more body fat, where the fat helps them stay afloat when crossing rivers, making their coats glossy. His hands were clean, yet the smell remained on his clothes, even on his leather moccasins and...

“That’s all I’m getting. He doesn’t stink of sweat, though the heavy fatty scent overwhelms his own. Though I can’t tell what the local scent would be, never encountering it before.”

“While not a definitive answer, it’s better than we had.” Anna considered the others, including those lurking outside. “He clearly wasn’t injured, yet was in some sort of scuffle with a large, dangerous animal. What kind, we won’t know. Did he kill or injure it, washing off the blood? There’s no way to guess. Yet I doubt any local animal would be any friendlier than our brown or black bears, closer to our Grizzly’s than anything else, though likely much, much deadlier.”

“So what?” Liah ventured, when the same bird call repeated thrice in rapid succession. Everyone peered into the unknown, before Polly answered, immediately taking wing, heedless of everyone there, taking flight and rapidly disappearing.

“Shit!” Anna cursed, rubbing her head. “That could have gone better!” They all left their temporary hut, running to determine what they could see, when a ferocious, eerily familiar growl rolled over the entire village, making everyone quake, seeking the nearest shelter, hoping and praying it would offer any protection.

“That’s...” Lor ventured.

“Damn, it is!” Tiss gaped. “It’s the call of a Ligor, designed to cause anything to freeze, becoming compliant and less likely to fight.” Everyone grabbed their spears if handy. The women, including Till, scrambled to recover theirs, returning moments later, trailing Lor and Tiss, as Beks struggled to calm and steady Biscuit before she could break free and flee.

And Ty calmly entered the village, accompanied by a calm, quiet and passive Ligor, which none but the two girls had ever witnessed. It was large, slim, sleekly muscled and moved with a quiet, confident grace reminiscent of Ty’s, neither rushing forwards, nor holding back. Not cautious nor worried about a thing.

As the villagers sheltered behind their flimsy hut’s far wall, the two quietly strolled through the village. Finally spotting the girls, spears held at the ready, he held his left hand up, signaling readiness.

“We come in peace to signal our departure. Gather everything we’ll need. I’d like to say goodbye to Chief Larr and take our newest warrior-hunters: Ti, Tih and Til before setting off for Lo-res.”

“Yep,” Anna shook her head. “The man likes making a statement and there’s no better one than entering with a wild tiger at his beck and call.

“That,” Till assured her, “is no mere tiger!”

While everyone else balked, retreating as the pair advanced, Polly perched on Ty’s far shoulder, Larr exited her hut as her newest warriors hesitantly ran out, their own spears at the ready, as they too, took in the strange sight of a human man and a fearsome Ro beast walking side by side.

“Lo, Larr! I come to bid you farewell. We are leaving, seeking our contacts in Lo-res to complete our final trades. Just don’t wave those spears too freely,” he cautioned. “Tigger the Ligor is still in training and is easily startled.”

All three girls immediately lowered their spears, gently backing off without backing away, cautiously following the familiar and unfamiliar shapes, awaiting any commands, though none followed.

“Brave warrior-hunter,” Larr called in return, waving back in acknowledgment. “So you need anything for your journey?”

Ty chuckled, appreciating the humorous suggestion. “No, we’ve recently eaten and I keep plenty of fresh treats on hand for rewards or to withhold as punishments. Girls,” he called referring to no one in general. “Grab your gear and let’s go. We have a distance to cover to arrive before dark. One more village awaits our arrival, and we needn’t disappoint them by arriving late.”

“No,” Anna laughed. “I doubt they’ll be disappointed. Terrified, possibly, but disappointed, certainly not. No one commands a room quite like you!”

“Think they’ll even allow us to enter?” Tanya teased.

“Faced with those two, would you even consider stopping them?” Till countered, chuckling while warily eyeing Tigger, who despite his namesake, was much too large to ever bounce on either of his tails, though no one wanted to consider what his friend Pooh may look like in this world.

“So how long did it take to train Tigger?” Tiss danced around before him—though never too near Tigger—who regarded her cautiously, considering how she’d taste as a mid-day snack.

“Forget that,” Lor ventured, keeping a wider berth, “how long did it take to wrestle it to the ground and pin it, before you began?” The others—now consisting of two separate groups—remaining a much more respectful distance behind, for obvious reasons.

Everyone watched as Ty tossed hamburger-sized chucks of raw meat for the humongous beast, who hungrily swallowed it, with little more than a token chew or two.

“I think we should scout ahead, seeking more fresh meet for Tigger too,” Tiss quipped, not quite understanding when not only Ty but his sister and ex-girlfriend laughed at her particular phrasing.

“That is too, too cute for such a horrendous beast,” Tanya observed.

“Yeah?” Ty queried. “Check this out.” He lifted his right hand high overhead and Tigger reared up, towering way above the diminutive Ty, dancing around in a circle, his massive claws playfully swatting away, before Ty rewarded it—him—by tossing the chunks way into the air and dancing away, as Tigger lunged at them.

“So how far is Lo-res?” Tih glanced back at the dancing, playful terror behind them.

“Not long, we traveled the whole way with our two spies,” Tiss answered.

“They’re with the others,” Lor added. “They kept insisting they’d rather back Ty than ever risk facing him again.”

“Yeah, they may end up as Tigger’s chew toy.” Beks struggled, keeping Biscuit in check. Before she’d wanted to break free and flee, now the massive horse seemed prepared to challenge Tigger, testing claws verses hooves, neither particularly easy to manage.

Maybe asking to handle Biscuit wasn’t Beks best choice. She assured herself she wouldn’t make the same mistake again with Tigger! One was way too many.

“Not only that,” Lor appeared as entranced as she was that first day, “Ty took them and the others, right into the village chief’s hut without anyone noticing, dictating how he and the village would be run. He’s not the kind of person you want to face if you can possibly avoid it.”

Once they were far enough ahead, Tiss and Lor went into the nearby forest on one side, while the newer warrior hunters went the other in a cooperative competition.

Before long, Tiss and Lor captured three different medium-sized animals, unsuited for a sizable creature as Tigger, yet clearly enough for their fellow travelers. The other three hunters, had a bit more trouble.

Catching two decent sized animals, they flushed out a much larger one, who when poked from a respectful distance by their sharp spears, deciding to try for easier prey. Bursting into the well-established animal path, Ro and humans scattered, surprised and unprepared. Though Tigger issued a low-growl, freezing everyone.

Ty held up his closed left fist then threw his hand forward, pointing. “Tigger, fetch!”

Tigger was off like a cannon shot, his prey frozen in terror with no idea how to escape. Tigger bowled him over, sending him toppling, only to return, grabbing it by the throat and issuing a low growl—warning it he could easily crush its larynx in a standard submissive hold, which both recognized.

When Ty called for Tigger to release, Tigger turned, happily trotting back, both tails wagging in alternate patterns. The new animal, glanced around, weighing its escape options.

“Yo!” Ty called. “Frick, here!” he called, tossing yet another treat towards him, before both he and Tigger backed up a couple steps, only to repeat the process. Frick, some alien mix between a bear and cougar, was reluctant, yet if he fled, realized he’d be chased down and he was hungry.

With a continuing trail of treats, Frick continued, slowly learning to trust Ty, moreover Ty’s ability to control and constrain Tigger. Ty likewise providing Tigger treats for not ripping Frick to bloody shreds.

The various humanoids of whichever species, planet of origin or eon all stared in a terrified fascination. Unable to look away, watching as Ty convinced an obviously dangerous creature into playing like a trusting child treats a parent. Both dangerous creatures, that is.

In a surprisingly short time—closer to thirty or forty minutes—they were loping along like close playmates, following each other everywhere. Anna shaking her head. “As I said, they did something to my brother and he can convince anyone to do anything. If I could bottle it, I could ... never achieve what he can, but could hopefully manage it.”

The others wondered what sleeping with him in the wild surrounded by such animals would be like, though not Beks, Tiss or Tor. They were used to it, no longer thinking it odd or even unusual. They knew it was no alien magic or even something they implanted in his skull. Instead, it was simply Ty being Ty, or more accurately, Adam being Ty.

He was too methodical, too practiced, patient and ultimately unrelenting to be anything else. Plus, there was something calming about his voice, soothing you into doing as he suggested, as he never ordered. He gave commands, yet everyone and everything followed them, trusted him inherently.

What foreign, alien magic could rival that? It would be foolish to try nor the least bit likely to succeed.

Over the course of their short trek—mostly through the wooded plains before reaching a more established path, how they’d originally come—those fears abated a sliver.

The girls, and then the returnees, established that, as long as you greeted someone early, they’d step aside. It seemed enough, so Tigger largely wouldn’t worry. Ty actually had an open-handed palm signal, is if practicing shaking someone’s hand, though harder to notice than his other hand signals.

Everyone approached on Tigger’s far side, which he preferred, as nothing interfered with his rewards, though they frightened most. Having a well-behaved pet is one thing, making a wild, carnivorous apex predatory dance in circles while exhibiting his full killer potential was overwhelming, akin to dancing the two-step with a rhinoceros leading.