Dead Birds and Old Paper
Who: Helena and Adnan When: Early afternoon Where: The beach, grasslands side. What: Taking it upon themselves to look for something the tribe can use for shelter or food.
Helena doubled over, hands resting on her knees as she struggled to catch her breath. Water streamed off of her in rivulets but she didn't pay them any mind as she sucked air hungrily. She'd crossed where the stretch was thinnest and was embarrassed to be the very last one to drag herself ashore. She took a minute to wring out her long hair and flip it back over her shoulder as she straightened. The day was...overwhelming, to say the least. The loss of Quinn was just stunning. Sophie was inconsolable and Thorne looked stricken. She'd given quiet permission for Quinn to be removed of his pajama pants before he was buried, the council agreeing that with the weather getting colder, they couldn't let a perfectly serviceable garment go in to the ground. Quinn Landry was well beyond chill and sunburn now. After bearing the scandalized looks from a few people to overhear her, she'd volunteered to swim across with the group going to explore, just to get away.
Adnan hardly slept, but when he'd gotten up that morning, he felt weirdly full of energy. There was no way he could sit still in this place, not having just ... woken up there. There had been murmurings about people swimming across the lake -- along with more alarmed vocalizations about a guy who'd died -- to do some exploring. That sounded just up his alley, and he was eager to go. He'd found a good out-of-the-way spot to stash his bag and his guitar case, and tagged along with a small group. He'd hesitated briefly, as wet boots were no fun, but then swam fully-clothed across the water and out on the other side. He stopped long enough to take his boots off, dump the water out of them, and wring the socks out before putting it all back on, and looked over as the last of them pulled themselves out of the water. He recognized the pretty Asian woman as one of their elected 'council', and walked over once his boots were tied, sticking his hand out. "Adnan Dosky, I don't believe we've officially met yet," he said, giving her a nod.
Helena squinted way up at Adnan, brushing water out of her eyes. "Hi," she said in an out of breath rush but she didn't shy away from the hand. Her tiny fingers and delicate wrist bones seemed to disappear in his handshake but he didn't intimidate her. Not after spending so much time with Cross. There were a few large men in their group. She'd be lying if she didn't admit she was old fashioned enough to appreciate the safe feelings that fact reflected on her. "Nice to meet you, Adnan. I'm Helena Chu." She wasn't much of a leader to look at. Standing at only five feet and three inches tall the long ends of her blue-black hair were starting to split and go ragged. Her tan was deep bronze and her clothing - what was once a pale blue t-shirt and a pair of blue, green and yellow striped pj boxers - were dirty and frayed. She'd clearly been in this place for a while.
He could see that, and had gleaned that it was probably part of the reason she'd been elected to the council, as it was. His own clothes were well-worn and stained, but that was from life on a road much different than this one. He'd been lucky, he'd noticed, very lucky. If one could say that about any aspect of being so displaced. Most of the people there were in various states of undress, what they must've been sleeping in. "Nice to meet you as well, Helena," he said, giving her a serious sort of nod. "I wanted to speak with you. I just arrived yesterday, but I believe I could be of some help. The group is newly arrived on this island? Are we planning on staying a while?"
As her wind came back to her, Helena straightened up and really took Adnan's measure. His voice had a nice timber, and it rolled in a way that was easy to listen to. She wondered where he was from. She nodded. "We've only been here a few days. Cross, the large and quiet blonde guy you'll see around from time to time? He and I came here..." Frowning, she counted backward. "About nine days ago from our original camp in a forest almost two days walk from here." Glancing left and right, she picked a direction and gestured. They were wasting daylight, standing around talking. "We came ahead to determine if there was fresh water here and if the island was...safe..." her voice broke slightly on the word, the sight of Quinn's puffy and spotty face flashing before her eyes. "Ken ended up building carts and loading everyone up to travel here a few days after us. I think we will be staying here on the island, for a while anyways. You may have noticed Rowan? The pregnant woman? We'll be here at least until her child is born and she feels recovered." Helena chewed on her lower lip a moment before sharing a thought that hadn't really been spoken about around the fire since they'd arrived. "At one time we thought we'd become nomadic. Try not to impact the environment too much and explore more of the land."
Adnan started to walk with her, absorbing everything she was telling him. He made notes of the names Cross and Ken, and Rowan. The first two he would have to connect with, see if they knew anything about construction, or could be taught. It would have to be rudimentary; there was a distinct lack of tools laying around, but he thought they might be able to manage somehow. What did they seem to have but time? "It might be a good idea in the future," he said to being nomadic, glancing over and down at her. "But if our camp is lasting a while, shelters are needed. Exposure is the most dangerous thing. I have worked many years on many construction sites, I have a good head for building, I'm told. I would like to begin as soon as possible, if the council agrees." He paused for a second as something else occurred to him. "Also, I have several changes of clothes in my pack. Not enough for everyone, and they're obviously men's clothes, but I intend to give them to those who need them. I'm unsure of how to best divvy them up, which is why I haven't yet, and was also hoping you could help with that." Direct and to the point, he tried not to sound too eager, but really, things had to be done.
Helena smiled. It was...sort of refreshing. Plenty of people asked her what they could do to contribute and she'd suggested building the lean-tos they needed. Building the smokehouse to figuring out some way to add on to the budding outdoor kitchen attached to the fire pit in the center of the camp. "You're welcome to and I'm sure plenty of people will help you, including me." She scuffed the rubber sole of her make-shift sandals, made from the bottoms of old ruined running shoes and strips of her bright pink and orange pillow case. "Are you thinking the lean-tos are sufficient? Or would you like to try something more abitious?" There was also the matter of building bedframes and procuring enough skins to make bedding, mostly just to get people up off the ground in case of floods. "Most of the island is sandy. Not the best place to build anything too heavy," she said. If he was as experienced as he said, he'd probably know that.
"As for the clothing, I'll help you distribute it. Some people have really arrived underdressed. I think maybe...pants for Rook and Lucien?" Both of those men had nothing but their boxers. Those garments weren't really built to last. "Rowan's belly is outgrowing her tank top. I've been knitting her a poncho to wear over top to cover her arms and belly on the colder nights but if one of your shirts would fit her, that might be helpful." Ro might have two young men to keep her warm at night but they were scattered during the daylight hours.
"With the materials there seem to be to work with, I believe the lean-tos will work for now," he said, nodding. Certainly anything bigger and off the ground would take more planning, and he was working under the idea that they needed to get everyone under something as soon as they could. He was also thinking of furs himself, though he didn't feel like he knew enough about the animal population yet to say that they could even get any. "If it seems possible, I can work on plans for something more ambitious, but for the time being, my priority is to get everyone covered and warm," he said, looking over to give her a faint smile. "I'm assuming all the wood comes from this side of the water?" He nodded around them as they walked; he hadn't seen the first sizable tree on the island. That would prove difficult, but he had the sense that not much about this place wasn't difficult. "My clothes are your's for anyone's disposal," he added with a nod. Depending on how big her belly was -- he hadn't really looked, though he'd definitely noticed the pregnant woman -- he was sure he had a shirt that would fit her.
She flashed the guy a warm smile that matched the sunny day. "That's very generous of you, Adnan. I appreciate the offers." Scanning the horizon, she nodded. "Most of the trees we might find seem to be east of here. We walked into the grasslands from the west. There's a massive forest west of here with trees that are...strange, definitely strange, but rival the redwoods. Huge. We all slept in one for the first few weeks, believe it or not. We made hammocks out of our bedding and climbed the tree at night to avoid the laughers." He'd had to have heard the insane gargling laughter across the water, those horrible beasts prowling the banks at night, hoping for a stray grazer or better yet, a human. "Out here, they're rare. We think there are a lot of underground streams and the trees crop up where the streams break through." The disc trees, their first source of wood with that highly buoyant balsam-like wood, were very rare but a few people had spotted tall, nearly branch-less trees. They reminded people of the masts of ships.
He was nodding, taking the information in. He went ahead and assumed 'the laughers' were the things he'd heard the night before. They had the sound of predators in them, and if he'd been here then? He would've wanted to sleep above their level too. "I do believe it," he said in his lilting accent, looking over the horizon himself. He fell silent for a moment. He would need several strong backs, that was for sure. But there looked to be a few of them amongst the group. Even if it had to be done a little at a time, they would get it done. "As long as it cuts as well as trees back home, we'll manage, " he added almost absently. The only other thing was figuring out how to cut them.
Helena gave him a wry smile. "Only things we have are pocket knives and one marine's finger saw." She chuckled softly. "What are our chances with a chipped stone axe, if we could make one?" Tilting him a curious and amused smile, she stepped down into a dried stream, scattering a couple of gold weasel kits that had been frozen by the sounds of their approach. Her proximity had jarred them out of it and they'd flashed away in a stream of smudgy charcoal and goldenrod fur. "See them?" she pointed after them. "Those were young. The adults are twice that size. No one has managed to catch one yet." She had a silent yen for gold weasel pelts. She had this day dream that they would be as luxurious as rabbit or ermine. "I call them gold weasels because of the colour."
He watched the small animals with a fascinated smile on his face, then chuckled and shook his head. "It's accurate," he said. They were cute little things. Maybe he would catch one some day. His head was already swirling with thoughts of traps and weapons that could be made just from what the land had to offer. "As far as axes go, I think a chipped stone one is our best bet. Much more effective than pocket knives," he said with a wry smile, climbing up the other bank of the dried stream and offering a hand down to her, should she want to take it. Some habits never died, regardless of the circumstances.
She accepted his offered hand with another smile and climbed the embankment. There was a smudge in the distance to the east and she shaded her eyes to have a better look at it. "That over there? Doesn't look like trees but maybe there's something to see over there?" She couldn't help the curious need to peak under rocks. Everyone seemed to be finding things today. Even Quinn had found a shotgun and shells just that very morning. That thought made her eyes sting.
Adnan looked in the direction she pointed to, squinting himself against the sun. "You never know," he said, and started to walk off in that direction, curious himself. He had the odd feeling that there was a lot to this place, bizarre was it was. He'd always been sort of an explorer at heart, and that hadn't changed. He may not be able to even guess at why they were there, but it always helped some to know the lay of the land.
As they crossed the drifting lazy ocean of sweetgrind the smudge resolved into one of the strange rockfalls which usually marked a spring out here. Like the earth spat out the rivers with a bit of debris. "I wonder if there's clean water here?" she wondered aloud. "It's good to know where all of the drinkable water is." She'd been afraid to drink straight from the stream the first day or so she'd been here. There had been no one to tell her it was safe and in the end she'd drank purely out of a need to hydrate or fall ill. It had lead to the sweetest, cleanest and most wonderful mouthful of water she'd ever had. Not much had really changed with each sip since.
He grunted and nodded a touch, already having assumed that people had scouted them out. And there was the little pool where Analiese had found him. Obviously there was water, as they were all still alive. He walked around to the rocks with Helena, seeing there was indeed a lazy sort of water-flow coming from somewhere under them. He knelt down near the rocks, reaching out to get his fingers wet and taste them. It tasted fine. "Seems like it," he answered belatedly, and took a cupped handful to lift to his mouth. He glanced up briefly; the land seemed to drop off a bit further on, into a sloping hill.
Helena took some time to crouch and sip as well. The rockfall was tall, built up about twelve feet over her head. "I don't understand how these happen," she said, laying her hand on the sun baked stone. "They look like piles of rocks that fell from somewhere...where? There's nothing here." Reaching up over her head she got her fingers into a crack and hauled herself up on to the boulder before searching for a way to get even higher. "Maybe I'll be able to see some trees from the top," she called over her shoulder.
Adnan stood back to watch her climb, shielding his eyes from the sun with one hand. He was tempted to mount the rocks with her, but somebody had to be down there to break her fall, right? Should it happen. It was strange that the stones were just there, but he was trying not to question everything that was strange here. Not right away, anyway. That was possibly the path to madness, if he wasn't already there. "Careful," was all he called up, and just waited.
"I'll be careful," she called back over her shoulder as she pulled herself up to the next plateau. Adnan hadn't lived in the tree with the rest of them. He had no idea how fast humans could return to the branches when their lives depended upon it. Life as a primate wasn't so far removed as they all thought. Helena has been quite an adept climber, her balance was enviable. Once she made it to the top and stood up straight, the view was astounding. The miles of waving grains spread out forever, sunkissed and constantly moving. "Wow, the view is..." She did a slow turn, mindful of her footing. "There's definitely mast trees to the south and east," she called back to Adnan.
He squinted up at where she'd stopped, more than a little tempted to climb up there with her. He had pretty good legs; working up high building houses would do that to you. After glancing toward where she was looking and not seeing anything, he decided to go ahead and join her. She seemed solid enough up there. Adnan started to climb, a bit more slowly than she did -- he had considerably more bulk -- but easily enough. He found his footing to straighten up where she was, looking around them with appreciation. It was a very strange, but very beautiful place. "The carts will come in handy," he murmured, more to himself than to her. If the fronts and backs of a couple of them could be knocked out to make room, they would haul lumber.
Helena sighed but her breath caught when she turned a bit more southwest. "What's that?" She pointed out to a void in the sweetgrind. She couldn't tell from here but there was something there that dazzled white in the sun. The spot was considerable large and she wondered aloud. "Could it be a spot where a bunch of disc trees fell?" She'd noticed that the strange other worldly looking trees had only been found dead so far. Completely dried out and fragile, big men like Cross had been able to pull the whole tree down, snapping it off at the ground with nothing but leverage and rope. Some areas had shown that the disc trees had fallen on their own, their slight weight unable to compete with gusting prairie winds. Since their branches caught the breeze like sails, she could understand that. Helena tilted a curious look up at Adnan. Maybe he could see something she couldn't.
The tall man turned to where she was looking and raised a hand to shield against the sun. He spotted the barren rough circle a ways away, but couldn't tell what was in it. It was reflecting, whatever it was. "I can't tell," he said, then refocused on Helena again. A small smile crossed his face. "Feeling adventurous enough to find out? It can't be more than half a mile, I'd say." He definitely was. Even though he wasn't sure how much light they had left, he wanted to see as much as he possibly could. Without really waiting for an answer, he started the careful descent, watching where he wedged his boots.
Helena didn't answer him right away, instead she narrowed her eyes to slits and placed the strange white sun in the sky. "Hmm," she said, determining there was still a couple of hours or so before they had to head back. She wasn't alone in the thinking that the days in this place were slightly longer than they had been on earth. In the beginning it was easy to miss that fact, but when the shock wore off you started to feel the passage of minutes and you wondered. She climbed down after him and once they were on the ground, Helena got her bearings. "We should have more than enough time to go and investigate before we have to go back."
Adnan was going to take her word on that, not having the first idea how time ran -- if it ran any differently -- in this place. He followed his good sense of direction and started to walk around the pile of rocks, keeping an easy pace with her shorter legs. An odd thought struck him; this sort of reminded him of his childhood. Exploring the hillsides with his sisters. Just the four of them with all the time in the world, imagining they saw things out on the horizon that only children could see. It was a poignant memory that kept him silent for the moment as they walked. Granted, the grass in Iraq wasn't purple, and there weren't random rock-piles with water springing forth, but still ... the chest-feeling was the same.
Helena was an only child but she knew a little bit about chest-feelings. She tended to cultivate them and follow them nearly religiously. If Adnan had shared his feeling and memory, she'd have been touched to be a part of it, or at least a spark to kindle it. As it was, she felt a little tired and was perhaps a little bit slower than she ordinarily would have been. Her fever hadn't been nearly as bad as some others had been last night but she still felt a bit sapped of her strength. As they walked, she bargained with herself. She swore she'd sit down beside the fire and lazily knit. Well before dinner was served, as well. She'd dry off as best she could and then she'd rest. For now, though? She was exploring!
She kept her eyes peeled, her gaze moving from the grass immediately ahead of them and then to the side, then the other, finishing off by peering up into the sky. It was very open out here. She had no idea where they might find cover if they needed it. She'd felt hunted more than once in this place and it wasn't a pleasant sensation at all. "So you came with your guitar," she said, making conversation. "That's so lucky! You must be really glad." She gave Adnan a warm smile. "I have no musical talent whatsoever. I'm an utter failing in my mother's eyes. No good at math, science or music."
He looked over at her, pulled out of his reverie, and chuckled softly. "I am of the opinion that everyone has some talent for music, even if it's just listening well," he said, cheeks bunching up a bit more. "You might be a master at hand drums, who knows. ... but yes, I am glad. Very very glad, I don't really know what I would do without it." It had gotten him through countless long and lonely nights, that was for sure. And likely would again. He could imagine that the people here would appreciate an instrument in their midst. "Perhaps I'll teach you?" he suggested, looking over and down at her again, with something close to a teasing smile.
She made a bit of a wincey face and chuckled. "If you want to risk your strings by teaching me, maybe we'll make a trade out of it. Do you know how to knit?" She cocked her head slightly, her dark hair falling over her shoulder like dark ink as it dried in the sunny heat. "I'm an expert knitter and we're going to need all of the help we can get." She walked around a rock in their path before continuing. "We discovered a fruit in the forest that isn't all that tasty but it has a fiber between it's seeds that we can twist in to yarn. It comes in tones of natural colours too, which is awesome but not really important." She flashed him a smile. "We've had some cold nights here recently and I'm starting to wonder if we might be creeping out of summer and into autumn and then winter here. Now that we're in a place that is relatively safe, we can worry about things like socks and mittens and hats. I can knit sweaters easily enough but I've never tried anything like pants before. I guess I'll have to give it a shot though." She smiled, aware that she was running on a little.
Oh right, strings. Adnan frowned vaguely, as the little reminder of where he was again sank in. That was going to take getting used to, for as long as he was there. The thought of him knitting caught up to that one belatedly and he chuckled a bit. All of his upbringing rose up to tell him that was woman's work, and rather ridiculous, but he knew himself well enough to know that he would have to keep busy with his hands somehow. "I might take you up on that," he said, still looking vaguely amused. "I cannot guarantee how good of a student I will be, however. I don't believe I've ever touched a knitting needle in my life." He played guitar, granted, but he didn't know if his thick fingers would be adept at all at manipulating yarn. "If nothing else, i can learn to twist it, and keep you in yarn."
Helena grinned at him, more than pleased that he'd even consider helping to knit. She'd never even offered to teach Cross how, fearing he'd level that why are you wasting my time? look on her again. "Any and all help is appreciated. I have a lot of patterns lodged in my head. The girls I worked with at the Delores Fielding Pre-School had a knitting club. We'd get together every second Tuesday, drink girly martinis and knit. Sort of trade knitting books and patterns." Helena offered another smile, as though it was perfectly obvious what the group was. A bunch of ex-wives who got together just to have something in a big and cold city. "We called them Knit'n'bitches," she confessed with amused bashfulness.
He laughed, rather unexpectedly to himself, and shook his head. "Knit'n'bitches," he repeated, sounding amused, but not in any derisive way. Though he couldn't picture the diminutive Asian woman belonging to a group with the word 'bitch' in the title, he knew better than to take people at face value. It had happened to him enough times for him to know exactly how unfair it was. "Though I can't promise any girly martinis, I can at least show up to the one-woman party and try to make myself useful." Even if that was just hanging around and playing guitar. He was good at that, more or less. They were getting closer to the spot they'd seen from atop the rocks, and Adnan squinted ahead. The damnable grass hid most everything.
Helena could summon the most girlish laugh at times. It was a gift from her heritage and it never failed to seemingly wind the clock back on her age. She shook her head, the damp and heavy strands of ebony hair swaying with the motion. "Oh, you know," she said with a sly and feminine little smile. "Not even pre-school teachers can manage to be sunshiny all of the time." She lifted her face to the strong afternoon sun and was forced to grab on to Adnan's elbow when the earth suddenly declined under her feet. Was it some kind of crater left behind by the meteors?
He tensed to steady her by instinct, then looked down to where they were heading. It was a steep drop-off, steeper than it had looked from the top of the rocks. And had something very ... odd nestled down inside of it. He frowned faintly and carefully started down the embankment, finding his footing easily. He kept his arm within range to give her support, though.
For Helena, she had no trouble making sense of the shape. The earth to the west had a slightly rumpled look, as though something large and heavy had hit it at such an angle that it had shoved a bunch of the ground ahead of it as it came to a stop in a deeper rut. "Oh....oh wow," she breathed as she followed Adnan down. "I've seen one of these. Alive, I mean. It was a bird, believe it or not." She bent to brush a bit of crusted dirt off of a porous bone protruding from the dirt. Long dead, the roc had lain here and rotted to little more than sun bleached bones. The crater it had made when it fell from the sky was several feet deep but she suspected it must have one time been deeper since the skeleton seemed partially submerged. "I wonder why the laughers didn't eat it?" she asked aloud. They tended to eat everything that had once been alive, even their own. Why had they spared the roc? She found it hard to believe that they could have neglected to notice something so large decomposing out in the open.
"It was a bird?" he repeated, tone a combination of disbelief and awe. He started to slowly circle the massive skeleton, looking it over with fascination. It looked like a reconstruction of a dinosaur, as ridiculous as that sounded. Like somebody'd just dropped a model from a museum there in the middle of nowhere. In a big crater. That he was starting to think had happened because of the bird. He cursed softly in Kurdish, and reached out to touch one of the gracefully-curving rib bones that emerged from the dirt. "Maybe they just don't taste good?" he suggested to her question, looking up. He couldn't even imagine what the thing looked like alive.
Helena nodded. "I really think it was, yeah. Cross and I saw one really close up when we were on our way to the island." She was circling the bottom of the bowled crater. "I thought it was an airplane, flying straight out of the setting sun. A small herd of grazers were stampeding straight toward us and it was following them. Just before the last of them got under the cover of the spindle trees, the bird swooped down and snatched it right off the ground." She mimed this whole descent and carrying off maneuver with her hands as she told the story. "A full grown grazer! And it carried it off toward the blue mountains, like an eagle with a fish." She gazed north at those distant smudgy peaks. "Haven't seen one since, though. Thank God."
He followed her gaze for a second, feeling a weird sort of chill. They really were the bottom of the food chain here, weren't they? Granted, back in their homeworld, out in the wild, it was the same set up. Man had evolved to outsmart, not outrun or outsee or outhunt anything else. Trying to picture a live predatory bird of that size ... "Hopefully we are too small when it comes to prey," he said out loud, glancing back over at Helena. It was probably not the best thing to say to a woman, but she seemed the strong, practical sort. Which was likely important, here. He started to circle the bird more, then caught sight of something else rather strange on the far side of it. The wall of the crater there was ... flatter, seemingly more structured. He walked over to investigate.
Helena nodded gravely, the hope that they were too small to interest the immense birds had crossed her mind more than once. When he moved in a new direction with purpose, she frowned. "Did you find something?" she asked, following him toward the aberration. Carefully, she skirted the bones of the old bird, noting that they seemed so fragile that they wouldn't support even the slightest amount of her weight.
"I think so," he muttered absently, crouching down by the section of the crater wall. He reached out and brushed some dirt away, pulled some of the overgrowth ... and found a seam. A seam where two flat-edged stones were resting together. "Huh ... it almost looks like bricks," he said to her, following the crack with his fingers. The section was too flat to be natural. Adnan realized he was touching the remnants of a wall. A wall old enough to be buried in layers of earth. He pulled more overgrown grass away and uncovered a large crack. Without hesitating much at all, he stuck his fingers in to feel around, bottom lip caught in his teeth.
Helena's breath caught in her throat. "Bricks? Like a wall?" She hurried to peer over his shoulder as he cleared the way a little more and jammed his hand into darkness. Helena cringed and set a cautioning hand on his shoulder. "You feel anything move in there, you pull your hand out." Insects were blessedly rare in the grasslands. They'd seen round beetles minding their own business and the odd buzzing little gnit but not much else so far. She counted that as a blessing but knew it couldn't last.
Adnan hummed an acknowledgement. His fingers came across something but it wasn't moving. He actually had only expected to feel packed earth, but he couldn't resist trying to see if there was something jammed in there. He paused, frowning vaguely, and felt around a bit more. "It's ... something," he murmured, trying to push his fingers in deeper. He managed to close the tips of two fingers against a thin line of something and pull. It shifted, making a dry sound against the stone. "... I think it's paper," he said, a weird sort of excitement coming into his voice. He started to shift his hand around, trying to work it out of the crack without tearing it to bits.
"No way!" Helena breathed in breathless excitement. "I wonder what it is?" They'd found paper here and there on their travels. Books and journals, mostly. She was dying to know what he'd found and she gave up on trying to give him his space. "Can we maybe pry away one of the bricks?" she asked, leaning forward to scoop away some of the loose earth.
"I think I have it," he said, pushing against his knuckles just a bit more to get a better grip. He pulled firmly and the paper came out. Enough to really grab and pull, at least. It was rolled up into a tight scroll, and looked old. He was surprised it held up to his tugging, honestly. It felt made of a coarser material than the paper he was used to, like ... vellum or something. Adnan moved back a bit and stood up so Helena could see as well. He unrolled the paper and frowned vaguely down at it. "It looks like a map," he said, though she could probably see that perfectly well on her own.
Helena rose on to her tip toes to peer at the wide sheaf of strange, grainy paper. "Huh," she said in surprise. "That's amazing that it didn't, I don't know. Blur." Bazzer probably would have slapped her hand before she got the chance but since he wasn't here, she touched one of the dark blue and red markings on the surface. "I wonder what they used for ink?" Turning her head and squinted, she gestured to an area which she suspected was north. "Do you think those are the blue mountains over there?" She gestured vaguely toward the silent mountains so very far away.
"I don't know," Adnan mused as he looked over the ink himself. He held the map up and turned a bit to let the sun shine through it, then brought it back down again. Allah only knew, in this world. There could be some crazy plant that had ink-beans. He looked up to where Helena gestured and then back down at the map. "It's possible, I suppose," he said. If the topography hadn't changed drastically since the thing had been drawn. He glanced up toward the sun again and rolled up the parchment again. "I'm taking it with us, that's for certain," he said.
Helena nodded emphatically. "Definitely. We'll get it across the lake and keep it dry," She, too, glanced up at the sun. "Hmm, we should really make tracks for home, actually. We'll be out of light before we make it to the edge of the lake and that's not good." Adnan much have heard the made cackles of the laughers and she was glad he only knew them at a distance. They'd lived with all of that insane gargling laughter right beneath them in the forest.
"Yes, let's be off," he said. They'd have to go at a quicker pace than the one they used to get there, but the thought they could handle that. The terrain wasn't too awful. He tucked the parchment into his back pocket, thinking it would hold together back there, and headed to the side of the crater that they'd come down, starting the scramble back up. It had been an interesting day, to put it mildly, but he was ready to be back at camp.