Practical Lessons for the Newly Surfaced: Fishing Who: Falina Bjyr, Cormac Murrough Where: Just outside G3’s camp When: 24 Molioris, 9:45 (Evening, just before dinner) Summary: Falina is still a little wary of all this water they have on the surface. What will she think of fishing? Rating: E
There wasn’t a lot that Falina felt she could contribute to setting up the camp at night. She’d already tried her hand at setting up the tents, but that just ended up on her cursing up a storm and generally getting in Cormac’s way till he took care of it himself. So she’d left that to him, eying the wrapped up canvas set beside their sleeping rolls with some disdain. The qunari seemed to have the best luck with hunting and Falina didn’t even know how she’d be able to be of any help. She didn’t know how to fire a ranged weapon and she really doubted there’d be much left of one of those rabbit things if she tried to get it with her daggers. The karashok brought his kills back without a scratch every time though, and Falina had resolved to work up the courage one day to ask him to teach her. She really had to learn to make herself more useful.
She’d observed some of the ladies at camp cooking as well, but it was boring watching them chatter and dump stuff into a pot and stir it. It didn’t look all that hard though. Maybe she’d try to help tonight. She could at least chop stuff up for the stew. Still, there was nothing for her to do at camp right now, and she didn’t really feel like gathering around the fire with the others. They were all a lot older than her, and grew up on the surface. Most of what they talked about wasn’t stuff she could relate to, and she was at once painfully aware of how much her life had changed in such a short amount of time.
Granted, it was a whole lot better than it had been, and Falina would never go back to living in Dust Town . But she was the only dwarf travelling in this group. She missed Rho painfully. If she could write, she’d send him a letter. Maybe Cormac would help her, if she could bear to even mention it to him. At times like this, she even missed Signy, despite her noble attitude. Falina wasn’t scared of the surface like the other dwarf, and she even liked it, despite the things that made her wary. What bothered her was not being able to contribute as much. There was still so much she didn’t know, and it frustrated her.
Skirting the edge of the camp, she searched with narrowed eyes through the shapes clustered around the fire. She didn’t see Cormac, or Shartan for that matter, anywhere. They might be off hunting, or picking those little flowers and other green things that he made into poultices. He’d told her a little bit about it and it still confused Falina. Half those green things looked the same to her, and she’d learned to be careful what she picked since he pointed out that some of them could be poisonous. She’d leave the flower-picking to him.
It seemed the others didn’t notice her, as often because of her size and slipped into the wooded area, the thick trunks of tall trees rising around her. The shadows of the forest closed around her and Falina blinked as her vision adjusted to the filtered light. She had picked up a few things from some of the others about tracking; to spot landmarks that stood out, and made careful note of twisted looking tree with a rotted limb. Stepping over a fallen branch she turned her head this way and that. There were sounds all over, insects and animals she’d been told. She wasn’t too fond of surface insects, as they liked to wait till she was sleeping and then leave little itchy red bites all over her skin. But under that she heard another sound, a strange unfamiliar sound, and yet she thought maybe she’d heard it before somewhere. Following it she soon found herself at a bunch of water. It wasn’t like the water at Redcliffe, but it was smaller, almost as if she could jump to the other side. At the same time, it was bigger, stretching off into the distance both ways. The water was making noises, and moving around a lot. Falina stared at it, remembering it was sort of like the sorts of water they’d crossed over on their travels, by bridge. A river, Cormac had called it.
Carefully, she stepped up a little closer to it and looked down one way and then the other. The sun was setting, making things have long shadows, but she could see a pair of dark shapes in the distance. A sharp, happy bark rang out and Falina smiled, realizing it was Shartan and Cormac. As the mabari hound raced towards her she put her hands out, giving her voice a firm tone. “No Shartan no jumping! Sit.”
The mabari plopped to his hind haunches in front of her, his small tail wriggling and she rubbed her palm over his head. “Good boy..”
Accompanied by the dog, Falina followed the line of the river towards where Cormac was… with a long stick in his hands. She stared at it and him, confused. “Are you trying to play fetch?” she finally asked, remembering that Shartan liked to have sticks and stuff thrown for him sometimes.