Who: Atlas/Natal Maltose and Adam Jenkins What: Hunting. Where: Boar Country, Florida When: Before Adam’s scene with Apollo. Warnings: Animals die.
Atlas was lying in the thick brush atop a small rise overlooking an open plain and small watering hole somewhere in Central Florida. He had been lying there for some time, six hours according to the position of the sun. Patience was one of his many virtues, however, and he endured the many hours amidst the mud, dirt, and prickly undergrowth easily. He knew that if his prey sensed anything amiss, it would dart off, and his opportunity would be lost.
Atlas grimaced and squirmed as noiselessly as possible. What was harder to endure was the unfamiliar sensation of the layers of clothes and, worse yet, socks and boots that Freyra had insisted were part of the Ridgekeep uniform. Atlas would have preferred to conduct this hunt less encumbered, but he had told Freyra that the hunt was a necessary part of his preparations for his first survival training class. In return, she had informed him that he should conduct the hunt in full uniform, and if he did not, she would know. Atlas let out a silent breath. With the north men’s witch breathing down his neck, he would actually have to start teaching soon.
Atlas’ grousing was interrupted by movement at the edge of his vision. Craning his neck, Atlas spotted a small form moving steadily toward the small watering hole. He grinned at the careless obliviousness of the thing, but he did not let his feelings of innate superiority spoil his planning. He watched as his prey moved to the watering hole and then cautiously stopped at the water’s edge.
His chance having come, Atlas exploded from his cover. He rushed at the smaller form, angling himself slightly so that he was coming from directly behind it. His prey looked up, startled, and then dove into the water, trying to swim to safety. Of course, this only played into Atlas’ plans. Atlas dove into the water, as well, quickly catching his prey. It’s awkward, flailing limbs were no match for Atlas’ powerful strokes. Atlas’ grabbed his prey’s leg. Planting his feet in the muddy bottom of the watering hole, Atlas stood tall, pulling his prey squealing from the water. Try as it might, the boar could not escape Atlas’ grasp.
Atlas let out a booming laugh at his victory. It felt good after hours spent in silence.
The loud laughter covered the sounds of quick foot steps as a man came into view through the plant cover, and paused a bit of a distance away. He saw the boar in the arms of the larger man, and almost let out a sigh. He suspected that was the one he’d seen earlier that hadn’t quite come into range. He’d been hoping it would come back, but, well, now it didn’t look like that was happening.
The mortal drew a hand through his hair, before frowning and looking to the man once more. Where had he been hiding? Adam hadn’t seen him out anywhere, and there wasn’t anything around to mark that another hunter was in the area. Unless he’d just missed it. It would have been very bad had he accidentally shot him. Alana probably would have been pissed as well. But Adam needed to get a boar for Apollo, and doing it now, while Shiri was out of town, was the best possible timing he would be able to manage.
Well, there wouldn’t be any boars coming in while the guy was making so much noise. Adam switched on the safety on his gun, and stood back as the man laughed, waiting for him to finish... whatever it was he was doing. Was he wrestling it? Or planning to kill it with his bare hands? He didn’t exactly know. As he waited, he scanned, looking to see if he could spot where the guy had been hiding.
As his laughter trailed off, Atlas clouted the wild pig at the base of its skull with his free hand, dispatching the 200 pound boar as easily as a human hunter would a two pound rabbit. With his prey’s wild thrashing finally stilled, Atlas bent, not to place the boar on the ground, but to pull his necessarily large combat knife from its sheath in his boot. He could just rip the pig open with his bare hands, but he needed to practice doing it the right way if he was going to teach it.
As he leaned down, however, he caught sight of another hunter emerging from his own cover. Atlas wondered absently if he had stolen the other hunter’s kill. His eyes narrowed in recognition. That was no ordinary hunter. It was Wisdom’s human. What was he doing out here with a gun in his hand? Atlas had the brief hope that Adam had come to kill him. However, reality intruded and Atlas surmised that the man was merely out hunting. It did, however, bring the smile back to Atlas’ face to think that he had stolen the kill from this particular hunter.
Straightening up, Atlas began to jog over to where Polyhymnia’s human was standing, 200 pound boar still held aloft in one hand. His curiosity was demanding to be satisfied, as was his desire to brag.
Adam looked over as the man started to jog closer, and eventually realized, he’d seen this one before. He stayed where he was as he waited for him to close the distance and mentally tried to recall his name. It came quickly, once he was able to put him into context. Atlas. Or Natal. He’d spoken at the funeral for Zeus, and later he’d helped Shiri move the titan into Adam’s car to drag him back to the house. His muscles almost cringed at that memory alone. Now it made more sense why he was carrying the boar as he was.
Once the immortal was close, Adam gave him a small nod of acknowledgement and recognition. He hadn’t expected to see him out here. “It looks like you found one.”
“I did,” Atlas answered bluntly. “Was this one yours...” Atlas made no attempt to hide it as he searched his memory for the man’s name. “...Adam?” That was it. Atlas knew of the man, but tried not to encounter him during his visits with Polyhymnia.
Atlas also made no attempt to hide his smile as he laid the boar on the ground and finally pulled his necessarily large combat knife. Without waiting for Adam’s reply, Atlas cut into the belly of the pig. He had to pull the entrails out of the animal or the meat would spoil, or so he was told. As he recalled the various steps he needed to follow to field dress his kill, his brow furrowed in concentration. One would think the Titan had forgotten all about Adam, except that his eyes would occasionally dart to the man between strokes of the knife.
“You got to it before I did,” he answered with a shrug, his eyes watching titian and boar as the inside of the animal was taken care of. He wondered if this was going to bring around anything unpleasant to the area that he would need to stay clear off. “... I didn’t realize anyone was out here.” It was a weak offering of conversation, but it was to the point of why he’d stayed around in the first place.
“That’s the point, boy,” Atlas said emphatically. “These damn pigs take off like they’re possessed at the first sign of a predator!” Atlas hadn’t realized that Adam had been out there, either, but he felt no need to admit as much.
Having finished pulling the guts from the hog and cleaning the abdominal cavity with some water from his canteen, Atlas laid the carcass on its side. Atlas sheathed his knife after wiping it clean on the boar’s hide and began digging in the earth with his hands. Burying the offal would prevent other predators from investigating the area. Atlas had no fear of the little dragons or other predators that inhabited this land, but, again, he was trying to follow the proper procedures.
“What brings you out here in search of these pigs, boy?” Atlas asked as he dug. “I didn’t mark you as much of a hunter.” Atlas was vaguely aware that Wisdom and this human had found him while they were camping, but there was quite a difference between what these modern humans called “camping” and hunting in the wild.
Atlas was right to not think to Adam as much of a hunter, since this entire experience was his first time out. But he had been set a challenge, and it wasn’t impossible, it only took a bit of care and work. He could do that. He tried not to make a face at being called ‘boy’ however, and rested his free hand in his pocket. He gave a small shrug. “It’s something I wanted to do, and it seemed like a good time to do it.” Adam nodded to the body that Natal had taken down already. “Do you do this a lot?”
“Of course,” Atlas replied blithely. He straightened up, slinging the cleaned carcass over his shoulder. He held the hind legs, letting the neck dangle down his back, blood slowly dripping to the ground. He tamped down the earth over the buried entrails with his foot.
“Food you hunt yourself tastes better,” Atlas continued, turning his attention back to Adam. “Tracking it through the wilderness, chasing it through the brush, snatching it up in your hand and smiting the life from it, those are spices you will not find in any of your modern ‘convenience stores’.” Atlas grinned, reliving the all-too-brief moments of the hunt.
“Luckily for you,” Atlas said as he emerged from his reverie, “it is a good time for a hunt. You need new prey if you hope to eat tonight.”
Adam opened his mouth, about to mention that he didn’t plan to eat the boar, then stopped before it was too late. Barely. He snapped his mouth shut, watching Atlas, thought about what he could safely say. He hadn’t intended to find another person out in this area, much less someone that he might actually know in some regard. “I’ll probably need to find a new location, but it shouldn’t take too long to draw one into an area.” He hoped. He took a half step back, preparing to turn and leave.
If Atlas noticed Adam’s hesitation or his attempt to leave, he showed no sign of it.
“A pity,” he commented pointedly. “This area is perfect to hunt these pigs.” Atlas intended to rub this fact in Adam’s face, but he also came dangerously close to offering advice. In the marshes of central Florida, watering holes frequented by the wild hogs were hardly unique.
The mortal shrugged. “There’s other places near that should work, just not this exact spot.” And he planned to go and find one, and move the blind he’d set up. He glanced at his watch, then stepped backwards again before turning to walk away. He gave Atlas a nod. “I should go find one, before it gets too late.”
Atlas nodded wordlessly, then moved to follow Adam.
Adam’s steps slowed as Atlas followed, then continued. The titian most likely needed to take the boar his car or something, and their paths just happened to go in the same way. He located a familiar bit of brush, and headed in the direction of his blind, deciding it the best place to start before heading out to look for a new one.
Atlas continued to follow Adam. The pig carcass swung lazily with his steps. He frowned slightly. His boots offered excellent traction, he supposed, but was that slight advantage worth all the discomfort? Considering how much effort humans had to put into foot and shoe hygiene in survival situations, Atlas was not persuaded.
By the time they reached the blind location, it was clear that the immortal wasn’t headed away. Adam turned and looked up at him, trying to figure out why he was still there. Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered him, but he was remembering Apollo’s words. He couldn’t have any help, and it’d be easier to claim he didn’t if he was completely alone. Still, he gathered up his few items, broke down the cover he’d used, and looked about, trying to decide which direction to head. Remembering a place he’d checked earlier, he started to walk once more.
Atlas’ intention wasn’t to help, merely to observe. He watched impassively as Adam broke camp, noting what the man did as he gathered up and stowed his various pieces of equipment. It was all potentially valuable information to Atlas. When Adam finished and resumed his trek, Atlas followed, never speaking a word.
At least in the not speaking, they were on the same page. Adam had nothing to say or offer, and wasn’t the most chatty of people even on a good day. As neither of them seemed to need to speak, it was an easier quiet, as Adam looked and searched out another site. He checked a few other, mentally marking where they were before moving to look at another location. Finally finding one, he set his gear down and began to build his blind once more, keeping his movements as quiet as he could to minimizing disturbing anything.
Seeing that Adam had finally chosen his location, Atlas sat himself down in a clump of vegetation a short distance away. He frowned. He had assumed the human would eventually say something, giving him the opening to find out what Adam had stopped himself from saying before. If events continued in this manner, all Atlas would gain is insight he could put toward his duty to the north men. This displeased him.
He stopped himself from calling out to Adam, however. Wisdom’s human was wary of him. Since it was currently frustrating his efforts, Atlas found this more annoying than flattering. Clearly, he would not coax any information out of the taciturn man. Also, Atlas didn’t want to give the impression that he was interfering with Adam’s hunt. As much as he would not help, he figured impeding Adam’s progress would land him in trouble with Polyhymnia, and he did not want that. So, he watched, and he waited.
Going through a mental checklist, Adam took care of everything he needed to make sure the site was fitting and ready, something that might be tempting to a boar and bring them in close enough to kill. At least he could hunt with a gun. Once everything was ready though, he only had to wait.
And Atlas was still with him. Turning, mortal looked up to immortal, and raised his eyebrows. “Are you staying to watch me hunt?” he asked, a small amount of surprise coloring his voice. It was about the only reason he could think of why the titan would stay.
Atlas smirked victoriously.
“Yes,” he replied bluntly. “I’ve never seen anyone use one of those things before.” Atlas pointed at Adam’s gun. He did have firsthand experience with a weapon like the one Adam held, but even Atlas would admit that the weapon of a god, even an Olympian, would be vastly different than that of a man, even if they appeared similar. “I want to see how you humans hunt. And I want to see if you truly intend to eat what you kill.” Atlas voiced his doubt plainly. He was not one to mince words.
Until the last part, Adam had been about to mention that Alana would probably be a better one to tell him about guns, and offer to see if she’d take him out target shooting, but the last phrase tossed the idea from his head. Adam frowned at him. “I don’t intend to eat it here.”
“But you intend to eat it?” Atlas asked, leaning forward. “You’ve come out here into the wild with a weapon you are clearly uncomfortable with because you are hungry?” Atlas’ eyes narrowed, and he did nothing to hide the incredulity in his voice.
“It’ll get eaten,” he promised calmly, meeting the other’s eyes. He wouldn’t have placed Atlas as one to be so overly concerned about the killing of animals for different causes, but he hadn’t thought about it much before either.
“Feh,” Atlas scoffed, throwing himself back down amongst the vegetation. He noted the obfuscation in Adam’s reply, but he had played his hand. The hesitation was gone from Wisdom’s human. Now that Atlas had made his interest clear, he didn’t expect it to return. Perhaps there was nothing more to Adam’s activities than what it seemed. Atlas knew that humans sometimes hunted for sport to recapture some of their lost pride. At the moment, Atlas was too frustrated to theorize further. He laid amongst the grass, trying to center himself and regain his equilibrium. Something about this human unsettled him, and he knew exactly what it was. Atlas reminded himself it was only temporary. It helped, but only a little.
Adam watched at Atlas moved away and settled himself into the grass, then shook his head and turned his attention to the hunt. It could mean a lot of sitting and waiting, and he partly envied that he couldn’t just seem to lay down and take a nap. He ran a hand through his hair and looked around, making sure he hadn’t missed anything. Atlas didn’t appear to exactly be satisfied by his answer, but that wasn’t of Adam’s concern. He hadn’t given away why he was really out there, he wasn’t getting any kind of help, and the immortal was leaving him alone.
Shifting some of the foliage to have a better view, the mortal found a watch spot for himself, and prepared to wait. At least this would give him some time to go over possible ways to rework the art pieces that he’d been doing, or consider other story lines for the comic he was working on. And zoning out was similar to meditating, something that he knew his goddess could appreciate.
Summary: Atlas and Adam are on completely unrelated hunting trips. Atlas tries to intimidate the young man and pry why a modern human would be out hunting from him. He is unsuccessful on both counts, but does score a nice pig of his own.