Kinderling 2

NOTE:  OK, switching over to first person.  Hope that doesn't mess anyone up.  This whole thing should have started out first person.

Kinderling 2:

I took a few moments to get my bearings.  I wasn't exactly able to navigate while I was flying on the go-stick, it was all I could do to keep from running into a tree.  Navigating at that speed?  No Sir, Ma'am.  It was way too fast for that.  Boy was it a rush though.

Once I figured out roughly where I was, I realized that I should have pointed the go-stick in a different direction.  Why do I always get myself into these messes?  I wasn't exactly further away from home and safety than I was, but I wasn't exactly closer either.  South I thought.  Yea, South should take me to the big ravine.  Providing the Gorfs didn't get the big idea of waiting for me at the bridge, I would be able to cross and be home free.  No Gorf in his right mind would follow me across the bridge to the Southern side of the Big Ravine.  Any that were that stupid wouldn't survive the Kinderling Militia that patrols the South side of the Ravine.  Those guys have no sense of humor when Gorfs are involved.

I was soon zipping through the woods at a run, naughty kitten in my pack with his head sticking out the top and his nose in the breeze.  Normally, I wouldn't have put a kitten into a pack, but without the go-stick there was plenty of room, and it wasn't like the kitten could keep up at this pace.  As I said, I am among the quickest of my kind.  Still, even I am no where near as fast as the go-stick was.  That flight was just plain terrifying.

After running through the forest for a while, I slowed to a walk.  The forest in this area is lush and green with huge ferns and that pleasant earthy smell that makes you want to take a nap.  As far as I could tell, I had finally given the Gorfs the slip.  Or as much of a slip as anyone ever gives the Gorf with their big fat noses anyway.  The real trick to it is getting far enough ahead of them that they grow bored and wander off before they manage to catch up.  It's not usually a problem, but sometimes you come across a particularly single-minded Gorf and days later, there he is.  Still following along.

I stopped for a few minutes for a quick swig from my water skin, and to listen carefully.  I could only hear the normal forest stirrings, and a low vibration sound from my pack.  The kitten had curled up and fallen asleep and was purring like a cat ten times her size.  Talk about punching above your weight.  More importantly, what I didn't hear was that "sniff sniff, mutter mutter" sound that usually accompanies a Gorf on a trail.

Continuing on, by evening I managed to finally find the Big Ravine.  It took me a lot longer than I expected, and I'm not ashamed to say that I had started to get worried.  It's easy to lose track or your direction while strolling through the forest.  It isn't like you can reliably see the Sun with all the leaves and branches in the way. 

Again I listened carefully.  No "sniff sniff, mutter mutter", so for now I was probably fine.  It was starting to get late and while a Kinderling does have decent night vision, the area North of the Big Ravine is known to have a lot of crevices to fall into, and rumor has it, there is a nasty subterranean Gorf tribe that lives in the area and only comes out at night.  I sure didn't want to meet any of those.

The only thing to do was to look for a tree with a nice big branch high enough to make a perch for the night and start out again in the morning.  Luckily, this part of the forrest was full of large trees, so finding a likely spot wouldn't be difficult. 

This adventure was supposed to have been a short look-about to find the just-right place to test my go-stick, and then a quick jog home to write-up my findings.  Father always insisted that I keep a journal for notes about the magical devices that I create.  Normally, I would have just brought it with me, but it didn't fit in my pack along with the go-stick, so I left it at home.  Nothing I could do about that now.  I would just have to try to remember everything till I got home.

Branch found, I scurried up the tree.

There is an art to tree-camping.  The first issue is not falling to your doom when you roll over in your sleep.  The answer isn't as difficult as you might think.  Most Kinderlings, at least ones that wander outside the safety of the village, keep a hammock in their packs just in case.  When looking for a tree to camp in, it's important to find one with a spot where you can tie up your hammock where it can't be easily seen from the ground.  Gorfs don't climb trees unless they have a reason to.  It's a failing, to go with all their other failings, I know.  But that doesn't stop them from looking up in the trees for a reason.  If a Gorf were to look up and see a Kinderling hammock, for instance.  That would be a reason for a Gorf to climb a tree.  So the best camping trees are the big ones, without any low branches to help a Gorf climb up and get you and a nice fat branch to hide your hammock by hanging it above the branch.

Of course, being me, my hammock has an extra twist.  I've enchanted a no-see-me totem that gently pushes eyes away and attached it to the under-side of my hammock.  It took me about a year to get the totem right, but now that I have it perfected, it works a treat.  I wouldn't leave home without it for anything.  Even the Kinderling Militia is interested in buying some as soon as I can get them made.  Sadly, the totem doesn't seem to have any effect on Gorf noses, so I might still wake up to find Gorfs stumbling around the base of my tree, but as long as they don't see me, they probably won't get excited enough to climb.  So I should be safe.

Nightfall found me in my hammock, with a small, possibly magical lavender kitten curled up on my chest.  I kept trying to sleep, but I couldn't. I kept going over and over the go-stick in my mind trying to figure out why it flew so much faster than I expected, and why it disintegrated so quickly.  Sure, I'd seen magic destroy some stuff before.  When I was small, I experimented on anything I could get my hands on, and I had very little control over my magic, so being covered in a fine black powder as yet another of my mother's carved napkin rings... somehow... went poof during a long, boring dinner party - complete with very important guests - wasn't unheard of.

"I don't know what happened Mama.  I was just sitting her concentrating on being a good girl and poof!" I would claim.  Yea... I don't think she believed me.  Not even once.  I think she started teaching me out of frustration for her napkin rings, and maybe for her social standing.

When I woke the next morning it seemed like only moments had passed and I hadn't slept a wink, but it was undeniably morning so I must have drifted off.  The kitten was still there and I was glad she?  He?  hadn't wandered off in the night.

Then I heard it.  "Sniff snuff, mutter mutter."  Coming from below.

I froze.  How had the Gorfs found me?  Surely I had gone far enough that even the most obsessed Gorf wouldn't have followed me.  And while Gorf tribal politics weren't something I knew much about, I was sure I had gone far enough to cross into another tribe's area.  According to my father's Militia friend, they have observed that Gorf tribes tend to be territorial.  I suppose they could have followed my scent trail this far, but why would they expend the effort?  Gorfs tend to be lazy, and there are much easier ways for a Gorf to find dinner than following MY trail all this far.

I wanted to peek, to see what the Gorf - Gorfs? - were doing, but I didn't dare.  They sounded like they were around the base of my tree.  The no-see-me totem should keep them from seeing me even if I peeked, but it isn't a sure thing and if they did see me there was no way I would escape this time.  They wouldn't even have to climb up and get me, they could easily shoot arrows or throw rocks till they hit me or I fell out of the tree. 

I stayed as quiet and still as I could.  Maybe they would lose interest eventually and wander off.

Then I heard a particularly un-Gorf-like sneeze, which was answered by a number of also very un-Gorf-like laughs.  I had been found by a Kinderling Militia patrol.  What a relief.