A Mountainous Stretch of Woods

'...Where am I?' was Tanneth's first though as he bumbled against a trunk of tree. The flesh underneath his skull felt as if it was tearing itself in half and the poor sod gripped his face. He collapsed to his bottom and leaned against the tree. Static filled his brain and he could no more tell his left from right and his up from down.

'What happened...oh' The poet looked down at his soaked trousers, the faint scent of booze teased his dry nostrils. It still didn't answer where he was or how he even got here. 'Think! Think!' Nothing. He couldn't remember anything. Tanneth spat, the tinge of salt on the tip of his tongue. He sighed and stared at the surrounding landscapes. They were beautiful, nothing like the plains and meadows of his hometown. Maybe being lost wasn't the worst thing...

Tanneth forced himself up. His body stumbling upwards as he stood. Right now the only thing on his mind was a bath to rid the stench of ale and sea. He slowly wandered deeper into the forest. Honestly, he had no idea on where he was going, or even if there was a body of water near here. Tanneth reasoned that he must be near a saltwater body in some direction, where he did not know. Still the wanderer carried on, walking as forwards as he could.

"Ah!" Tanneth cried out surprised when the vulx jumped out in front of him. He paused in fear before she spoke. Either it was the splitting headache he felt, or the lack of clarity he had, but the man was left aww-struck for a moment. She circled around him quickly, before introducing herself as 'Red' and asking if he needed help.

"I.... I'm Tanneth. Tanneth Woodburo," the man spoke, adverting his eyes from the vulx, "and to be completely honestly......"

Tanneth stared past the trees at a stray cloud, his cheeks slightly flushed red. He wiped his face with his hand, and with both hands patted the sides of his face. He spoke again, "I'm... I don't know. I would love your help." He took a long look at his soaking clothes and smelled the booze coming off of him, "I think... I think I need to clean myself of this booze."

"Thank you. That's very kind of you, miss Red." Tanneth smiled and reached to tip his hat... it wasn't there. The man became wide-eyed quickly turned his head looking for his hat. It wasn't there. Red would likely get a laugh from this, as she would see a black leaver hat stuck to his back by the leather belt with a yellow feather sticking from the small brown band. It was a wide-brimmed hat, rounded and very much typical of someone from a country-side or meadows. He turned to face Red, "It appears I've lost my hat... typical of a drunk like me." 

Due to all the chaos and his frantic behavior, the hat would be loosed and fall to the ground behind him. Luckily for Tanneth, the hat would make a small clattering sound as the hard brim hit an exposed stone, before resting on the ground. Tanneth looked behind him, seeing the yellow-feathered hat and let out an exhale of relief. He placed it on his head and responded, "I understand, I'll stay close to you and keep as quiet as I can." 

Tanneth kept close to her, as if he was her own shadow. He crouched low, when she crouched low. It was nostalgic, to be in nature with another. It reminded him of Am- Tanneth shook his head and took to Red's right side behind the bush. He stared at the clear blue river. He couldn't help but think of the stanzas he would write if he had his old journal... all the poems he wrote lost. He watched as his companion stood and fire her bow. There was some utterance whispered under her breath Tanneth couldn't make out, or well if he could, he chose not to. They were companions by chance, it wasn't his- 

Tanneth unsheathed his small dagger. He held in front of Red, so she could take it by the handle. He said simply, "If you don't mind, I'd like its skin." 

Assuming she took the dagger, he would walk down stream until he reached a suitably large stone. Tanneth placed his things on the stone, choosing one small wooden comb from his linen bag. He waded into the river until the water reached his chest. Tanneth took his comb and brushed the water. After washing himself and his hair he would head back behind the large stone. Wearing just his grey slacks, he took the rest of this clothes and spread them across the rock to dry. 

Tanneth looked at the pelt, "Let me know when you're done cutting the animal up. I'll need my knife to prepare this." 

He replied to Red's request, "Of course. Thanks for the dagger... I think I should be able to find some flint around here."  He paused when Red sniffed him, and dryly joked, "Don't expect me to do the same. I shall now go and find some rocks."

Tanneth walked to the shore and inspected the rocks near the large stone he placed his things on. Many of them were smooth from the course of the river, still he grabbed as many as he could and began making  a pile, about six feet from the stone. He laid them  in a disorganized pile. He began moving further from the shore, grabbing larger rocks. Tanneth saw something amongst the stones and reached his hand into the hole. 

"Ow!" 

He lifted his hand to see a cut mark on his hand. Tanneth moved the rocks aside and saw a sharp stone, at first his eyes beamed then they dulled. It was an glassy black shard of obsidian. Tanneth tossed the rock away and looked among some other stones, maybe four feet from where he found the obsidian. He saw it, a bit of glassy grey flint buried in the stones. Tanneth moved them aside and grabbed it.

He turned back to Red, hearing her question about the books. He answered, "Well physically no. I fear I lost my book of poems. However, I keep all of my poems locked away in a book that can never be lost." He pointed at his skull and continued, "I want to use that animal skin to make parchment. So I can write them down." 

He stood and brought the flint to where he had the rest of the rocks, "All we need is some firewood." He left a cheeky smile escape, "Gods, it's been forever since I've been with someone like this. The last time..." He stopped looking at the stone and stooped low now crouching. Tanneth murmured to himself, "Last time it was on the run from them."

"I'd would love to. I'm remembering the first one I wrote. It's about my homeland, a happy and sad story." Tanneth replied, he looked at the shore, "the rocks will do their job, I'm not too worried given the sand." 

He wiped the blood off his hand using his trousers and quietly hummed himself, the words rolls back and forth in his mind. This poem was only sad within the context of a later poem, its words sweet like a beautiful wild flower, but like that flower it was short-lived. Tanneth pressed his foot into the sand and looked back at Red, she had just asked him if he was 'ok'. Tanneth smiled and said, "I am fine, this cut will heal so as long I don't bother it. Granted if I'm unlucky I'll have an infection, but I can clean it later. The sooner we have food the better."

Tanneth watched her set the rocks into a neat circle and stated, "Looks good to me."

When she asked about them searching for wood, Tanneth's eyes darted to the forest, "Yes, there's safety in numbers, lets stay together." He walked to the edge of the forest and pondered, "Let's grab some light chaff and small sticks so the fire starts quicker, dry leaves would also work just perfectly. We can place the bigger sticks under that and that should be enough for the night, if it so chooses to encroach upon us."