Helena Chu (lostchu) wrote in thefield, @ 2009-05-08 12:45:00 |
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Entry tags: | cross, helena, z - 1st tribe - day 19 |
Good Morning
Who: Helena and Cross
Where: The Grazer Island Camp
When: Sometime as the sun was rising
What: Waking up, making plans
Rating: PG
For the first time in ages, Helena drifted awake. The laughers were so far away and even though their cacination was distantly echoed by the serene water, they were no longer a threat which discarded them as a concern. Also for the first time ages, she was waking up dry, something that had seemed impossible, even in the tree. No dew had come to rest on her because she was snug as a bug underneath the sloping thatched roof of the lean-to that she and Cross had finished the night before. She wasn't sure how sturdy it was, since it was dug into the sand, it's posts supported by rocks and all of it secured with grassbraid rope, but it had held through the night like a dream.
They had discovered during their first night on this beach that if they kept the fire in the massive firepit burning high enough, none of the grazers came near. They were familiar with the dangers of fire, or at least somewhere deep down their genetics told them it was something to fear. They'd brought all of their belongings down and slept wrapped in their blankets next to the firepit. The next day they had chosen a spot for their lean-to. Circling the island on the grasslands side, they'd located a disc tree which had fallen over. Much like the discs itself, it was completely dry and had cracked apart upon striking the ground. Using Helena's stone spade carefully, they had managed to split what was left into rough planks and tow the very buoyant boards back to the beach. They'd used as few as possible, setting several of the planks aside to be used for more building materials later.
Then had been trip after trip after trip for bundles of dry sweetgrind bound with grassbraid rope to be the thatching. While Cross had patiently attempted to get the bundles secured (long after Helena had given up in frustration), she had wandered up and down the beach, digging up more delicious island clams. She'd borrowed his knife to go and cut some more seaweed for the day's clam bake and had gotten a fresh pit of steaming clams going before returning to help with the leanto.
The finished product was nothing fancy. The space beneath it had been paced flat and Helena's blanket had been smoothed over it as a mattress. She'd arranged both of their pillows and his blanket over it. A bed for them to share, since the previous couple of nights had been chilly, even with the fire. They'd planted the lean-to as close as they'd dared to the firepit but even so, errant sparks were a concern. They had discovered that the disctree wood did not burn easily but the sweetgrind would go up in an instant once it was dry enough, she was sure. They'd tucked all of their belongings far to the back and thusly, the first habitat of grazer island was built.
This morning, however, found Helena pressed tightly against Cross's side, one arm draped across him as she had been the night they'd slept in her hammock. The night had been even colder than the one before and if he hadn't gathered her in close to him some time in the night, she might very well have frozen solid beside him. She'd certainly been thinking about that as she'd lain awake trembling. Now, though, the air was fresh around them and there was a pocket of warmth inside their blanket. Cross himself seemed to be throwing off a notable amount of body head and it was that fact that made Helena, more than half asleep, nuzzle her face into his chest and tighten her one armed hold on him with a contented sigh.
This was, without a doubt, the most comfortable night's sleep Cross had had since he'd been here. It even surpassed the night he and Helena had slept in her hammock for several reasons. One, he was well-fueled with the clams they'd baked over the past couple of days as well as a few fish he'd caught in the lazy waters of the lake, using his t-shirt with the neck tied up into a knot as a net of sorts. The fish had been slow and plump and had seemed completely unaware of their danger; they'd been delicious grilled over the fire. It was the first time in the two and a half weeks or so he'd been here that he'd been entirely full.
Two, after the exertions of the work he and Helena had done since they'd been here, he'd slipped away shortly before bedtime to wash himself completely with some of the soap pods he'd brought along in one of the pockets of his cargo pants. He'd stripped and scrubbed his hair and body as well as he could, washed out his shirt and underpants and redressed himself in the cargo pants, hanging the rest of his clothing up to dry. Three, he had a comfortable and dry bed and no laughers caterwauling all night long, as well as a warm body up against his; at some point during the night, he'd evidently folded her up in his arms beneath the blanket that covered them.
Cross had slept like the proverbial rock, awakening once in the wee hours to stagger behind the nearest tree and relieve himself, mostly asleep even then, and fumble his way back into their makeshift bed to fall dead asleep again. The slight stirring of Helena didn't really even waken him, at least not consciously; what he did was pull her even closer, one big hand on her upper back pressing her to his bare chest and an exhale of breath leaving his nostrils. His other hand curved over her hip, fingers still. He was having a hazy dream about being in London, in his flat, with his former girlfriend Kaia cutting up a dead laugher to make laugher steaks.
Helena wasn't a dreamer. She didn't often move a muscle after dropping off the slumber precipice and this time was no different. Her ex used to say she slept the sleep of the innocent - a private joke between them since Edward's work on Wall Street often kept him up at night. She was, however, very used to sleeping with a man at night and it had been something she had really missed since her divorce. She had no intention of letting go of Cross now. Her arm slid further around his body and she hooked one of her knees over one of his. If she could creep over a few more inches, she'd be using the man as a mattress. "Mmphmm," she mumbled, her eyes squeezing tighter as she denied the fact that wakefulness was approaching. Couldn't she just stay like this for a while longer?
Cross had always slept alone except on the rare occasion when a girlfriend might sleep over at his place, but he could very easily adapt to a soft female form pressed to his on those occasions. If he'd been awake, it was unlikely he would have been getting as familiar with Helena as he was right now. Her knee hooked over his, and in his dreamy daze he slid the hand on her hip down her thigh to pull her leg up higher on his body. He made a small sound in his throat, an almost contented rumble, and his face lowered to her neck. He was beginning the long, slow process of waking up, and he did not know who he was nor who he was with. He only knew that he was warm and comfortable and slightly aroused, as many men were in the mornings.
There was nothing at all better than a morning snuggle. Helena loved those drowsy good morning lovemaking sessions with her husband. For the first three years of their marriage, they had set their alarms forty five minutes earlier than they needed to be every morning. It was definitely her favourite time to be close to him even though he had been more of a goodnight lad. Nothing about the fact that Cross was significantly larger than her ex-husband registered in her sleep-soaked mind. She did notice the roughness of his hand as it curved around her thigh. As his breath crashed against her neck, Helena finally lifted her face toward him, maybe unconsciously seeking that little kiss Edward used to give her every morning, and cracked her eyes open just a bit. It was bright and she had to squint against the daylight. The lean-to didn't have any walls on the sides as of yet and it was definitely dazzling, despite the early hour. The next thing to register was the crisp freshness of the morning. All of a sudden she knew exactly where she was, and with whom. Once she knew who she was draped over, she immediately audited all of the places where they were touching. His hand on her back, holding her against his sturdy chest, the other curved just above her knee, the tree trunk of a thigh fit firmly between her legs. Helena froze, unsure what to do.
It was much brighter than it should be, Cross thought in his muzzy, dream-fogged mind. His flat had heavy curtains over the windows, and it was usually as dark as a cave when he woke up in the mornings. Was he at the shore for some reason? A faint frown creased his brow, then faded as he decided he didn't care, particularly. He could feel the press of cloth-covered breasts against his chest, and that definitely took his attention from the problem of where he happened to be. His hand at her back rubbed at the material of her shirt, and he readjusted his head on the pillow, still more asleep than awake at this point. He could feel breath on his lips, and instinctively he turned his face slightly to one side, his mouth brushing over Helena's, his eyes still closed.
It was silly and she instantly felt like a ridiculous little girl but even that near-accidental brush of a kiss evaporated any and all thoughts. It wasn't that she didn't care, it was just that for the moment everything stopped. Of course, it started again with the next beat of her heart and her lips tingled. That tingle rushed out through all of her limbs, ending off in her toes. She curled them against the thin padding of their blanket-mattress which had managed to stay mostly unrumpled in the night. That had been...far nicer than it had any right to be. Yet, she could tell he was still mostly asleep and Helena felt guilty, taking so much pleasure from his unconscious action. Had it really been so long since she'd been with someone? Well yes, it had, but that wasn't the point. The question came back to her - what to do? She warred with it for another few heartbeats before bending her lips toward his ear. "Cross," she whispered, not wanting to startle him awake.
At first, still not oriented to time and place, he wanted to say, Kaia? But that wasn't right. He and Kaia had broken up quite a while ago. Someone had spoken his name, someone female, and he could feel her breathing as he held her plastered to his much larger body. Finally, Cross' eyes blinked open and he saw that in his limited field of vision with her mouth to his ear that her hair was dark, not golden-brown. Not Kaia, then, and this was definitely not London. Now that he was fully awake, he realized where he was and that it was Helena with whom he seemed to be taking liberties. "Mornin'," he said, slowly letting go of her thigh in case she wanted to reclaim some of her personal space. "I--. Was asleep." Obviously, but he didn't want her to think he was the sort of man who thought it was all right to maul a woman just because one happened to be in close physical proximity.
Helena pulled back enough that she could look down into his blue eyes. She scooped some of her long hair out of her face and gave him an understanding smile. "I know, me too. Don't feel bad, I probably started it." She chuckled faintly, as she moved her leg only slightly lower into a more comfortable position when he released her. Nope, she didn't seem to be scrambling to reclaim any of that space. "I'm a serial cuddler. No one is safe." She half-joked with him, glad that he didn't seem to be retreating into embarrassment or recrimination. He might have missed that fact that last two times they had slept in close contact. The most recent one, they'd both been soaked in a rainstorm and were huddled together for warmth. The time before that, sleeping on him had been a necessity of the hammock. She arched a questioning brow, still notably not moving. "Do you feel taken advantage of?"
Cross didn't make any real effort to move away from her, either. Nobody would ever accuse him of being a cuddler, but when he was close to somebody he felt any affinity for, he was not standoffish, either. He pulled his other arm out from beneath her, tucking his hand beneath the pillow, but he didn't shift his body away. They were both adults, and he saw no need to be embarrassed now that he knew she hadn't taken his sleep-cuddling the wrong way. When she lifted her eyebrows and asked him if he felt taken advantage of in that lightly amused, teasing tone, he gave her his best deadpan look and replied, "Completely." Then one corner of his mouth curved upward in a half-smile.
Helena snorted lightly, amused. With a sigh, she shifted off to the side, rolling onto her back under the covers. She stuck close to him and peered up at the slanted roof over their head. If he wanted to, Cross could stand just under the lip of their little structure without bumping his head on the roof. It was still wide open though, and if there was wind and driving rain, this little shelter wouldn't be too much use. "So," she said in the same tone she'd used for the past few days when it was time to get down to business. Helena Chu didn't lie about. Not when the welfare of their little tribe was at stake. "What are we going to do today? Put two more walls on this thing? Or maybe look for a good spot for a more permanent latrine? Oooor should we maybe think about heading back?" She tilted her head to look at him. "It's been five days now since we left. Ken's probably worried." The camp was far from prepared for habitation by twenty people. The campfire was an excellent start on an outdoor kitchen but there was still the smokehouse to think about and that aqueduct she'd envisioned to bring fresh water right to the camp. Or maybe they should dig a well? Too many ideas, not enough order. A deep crease appeared between her brows as she mulled all of this over.
In the back of his mind, Cross had been concerned about those people they'd left behind. At least Kenneth was capable of taking a leadership role; he and Arlo were the only others Cross considered to be truly responsible besides Helena and himself. It would take them a day and a half to get back, so as reluctant as he was to leave this idyll where they only heard the laughers scream all night from a distance, he knew they needed to consider it. "I think we've done as much as is feasible for two people," he told her. "We could get more done faster if we had help." Some of the younger boys at camp didn't seem that bright to him, but surely they could follow simple instructions. "And you're right, the colonel prob'ly thinks something's happened to us."
Helena nodded with a sigh. "I'm almost..." She trailed off. It was pretty selfish to admit she didn't want to leave this safe place for the wide world of laughers back west. Here they had shelter, as flimsy as it was, and food as long as the clams and fish keptpropagating . They had a beach and clean water. She heaved a sigh and turned her face to look at his profile. "Yeah, we should go back." Not to mention they would be giving up all of this privacy that she hadn't even realized she'd been treasuring with him. Would she be able to...share a shelter and a bed with Cross when all of the rest of their little tribe was around them? Would it hurt him if she turned him out? Would she do that to him? The line appeared between her brow again as she had new questions to mull over.
She didn't seem happy about it, and Cross couldn't blame her. He wasn't really thinking about the ramifications of having the rest of the group with them on their current sleeping arrangement but more dreading the long walk and its discomforts. "I'm not keen on sleepin' in those trees again, either," he told her. It was not the most comfortable journey he'd ever undertaken, particularly when he considered how they'd spent the past couple of days. With a heavy sigh, he sat up, the blanket falling to his waist. He flexed one shoulder and then another and turned his back toward her, asking, "Still blistered?" He'd been able to feel the blisters, but of course he couldn't see them for himself without turning his head to an uncomfortable angle.
Helena turned her eyes on his shoulders with sympathy. She sat up to have a better look at them and had to admit that they were looking better than they had been. "They're drying out now. Starting to peel." She couldn't imagine what sunburn on top of sunburn must feel like. "Someone's playing a cruel trick on the men in our group." She chuckled as she pushed the blanket back off of herself with a shiver as she reached for Annie's bright orange sweater. She stuffed her arms in and zipped it right up to her neck. "They sent all of you fair skinned blondes out here to a place where the sun is so white and hot we can't come close to looking at it." As she climbed to her knees she gave him a skeptical look. "Maybe we should cover you in mud for the walk back, if you think you could even stand it." She knew that he was quietly fastidious. He washed himself and his clothes, he'd even shaved every day that they had been there. She remembered that he'd taken the time to wash during their journey and before he'd rejoined the group when he'd returned from his first walkabout. Helena had a sense that Cross didn't like to be dirty. He minded it a great deal.
"Should probably just wear my shirt," Cross said, as if it didn't matter all that much. "I'll have my bedroll on my back, and those vines'll rub against the skin otherwise." He knew that the shirt he'd arrived in wasn't going to last forever, and when it finally gave up the ghost, he'd be without unless he happened upon a garment lost or left by someone as big as he was or bigger. There was no help for it, though. "Might put some on my face and arms," he added with a shrug. It was true that he was less than enthused about being filthy, but as long as there was water to wash off with, he'd accepted it as a necessity of life here. If he needed mud to stave off sunburn, mud he'd use.
Helena nodded. "Ok. Is there anything we need to do here to sort of...close the place up before we go?" It was a half day's walk to the spindle trees where they would sleep. Lord, was she not looking forward to that night's sleep after the peace of the island for the past few days. A necessary evil, though. They'd have to grab some fresh water but other than that, she thought everything here might stand the nights untended as long as the grazers didn't trample the place.
"I think it should be fine," Cross said. He stood up and stretched, then exhaled a deep, pent-in breath. At least they were well-fortified for the trip as far as food went, and they could leave with full water bottles. "Just pack up our bedrolls, refill the water bottles." His brow furrowed as he tried to think if there was anything else he'd forgotten about. The fire they'd had going the night before had died out, but he'd stomp on the ashes to make sure before they left. He smiled ruefully at her, knowing she wasn't any more enthusiastic about it than he was. Despite the fact that they'd worked hard here, they'd gotten a bit spoiled by the quiet and the privacy they'd enjoyed.
Helena responded with her own humorously despondent smile before clamouring at the back of the leanto for where the water bottles had been dug in. She snatched them and shook the sand off them before climbing to her feet as well. "I'll go refill and I'll be back in a few." She didn't think there was any fish left over for breakfast but the pit of clams they had laid in the night before should be ready. They could head out on this cool morning with a full belly. Something brought her up short though. "If we walk half a day to the spindle trees, should we push on from there? Or just camp early?" There had been some distant rock formations and even more distant spindle tree copses that would set them away from their course home but would likely take a full day to walk to them, or nearly so. "Should we risk that?" She canted her head, wondering if he thought it was better to strive for more ground covered than safety.
Cross had been bending down to start folding the blankets and preparing their bedrolls, but her question made him straighten back up again, his brow furrowing. "Kinda out of the way to go off-course, isn't it?" He didn't know for sure how far the distant treeline they'd seen was, but he kept thinking about that immense bird they'd seen that had swooped up a grazer and flown away with it. Did they really want to risk being caught out with no shelter? Sure, it was a pain to think of hanging around the spindle trees doing nothing for hours before darkness fell, but he didn't much enjoy the thought of trying to find a place to hide when the laughers came tearing out of wherever they lurked during the daylight hours. "Not sure that'd benefit us any."
Helena sighed and nodded. "You're probably right. I'm sure we'll find something to do at the spindle grove for the afternoon." Even as she said it her mind stole back to the feel of his hand on her back, the other pulling her thigh higher up on his body and dropped her gaze into the dirt. Her face felt warm and she hoped that her darker skin would hide the fact. She told herself that there was nothing to that. It had just been the need for warmth and their easy companionship. Sure, she was attracted to him and she was fairly certain he...what? Liked her? Worried about her? Was he actually attracted to her? She wasn't sure. If she were home and shaved, fragrant and dressed in far more flattering clothing than her pj's, would that help? She had no idea and all of her meager and ill-used tools of seduction eluded her here. Heaving a sigh and giving him a crooked smile, she turned toward the spring. "I'll be back."
Helena might have been surprised to know that Cross wasn't a demanding sort of man when it came to women. The things he looked for were not the same as many men did. He didn't expect a lot of makeup or glamorous clothing; it was more personality with him, the small, quirky things that revealed themselves when one got to know a person better. Possibly she might have also been surprised to know that he was thinking about the way they'd awakened, about the feel of her soft and yielding body against his and the barely-there kiss he'd brushed over her lips before she'd spoken his name. His tone certainly didn't reveal any of that as he said, "Alright," when she told him she'd be back. He turned his attention to folding and rolling their blankets and pillows as neatly and compactly as he could.