The Field

( Time Update )

The weather on the island continues to be cooler than it's been for the past few days, and during the night, a chilly breeze and a gentle downpour carry away the last of the pollen that had remained. Day thirty-four dawns with intermittently cloudy skies and sunshine. It seems to be an appropriate time for everyone to get back to work on their tasks, both assigned and volunteer, as well as to (hopefully) handle any remaining fallout from the rampantly blooming bushes.

Today is also another day when a multitude of items can be found all over the island and the surrounding area. It seems that the island takes away, and it also gives back!

( mod notes: please read )

The night wears on, still muggy and damp, for all of our tired, sore tribespeople. In the wee hours of morning and under the cover of darkness a bank of clouds have blown in from the west. Fat with sea water but not quite ready to burst yet the clouds sprinkle the hot praries and the island in much needed cool rain showers. The wind isn't too high but it picks up a little. All of the shelters hold and the ground is so hungry that mud doesn't become an issue. More than anything, it's all a relief from so much hot and uncomfortable weather. The oppresive air lifts.

By sunrise the clouds are hurrying on in the east where they gather in darkness. It's clear to see that the little island dodged quite a storm. The wind continues to be breezy and comfortable. It's a good, sunny day to wash out the soiled bedding and hang garments to dry.

Everyone comes together for breakfast, finding that they're famished even if they can't exactly look everyone in the eye after the experiences the day before. The cloudy feeling in the brain, while not completely dispelled, has been lessened a great deal. Most of the pollen has been blown away but the right look or touch will likely spark off another amorous frenzy. Helena suggests that people can take a second day to recover from the effects if they wish, or they are welcome to resume their work details if they'd rather do that.

A restless, still night of oppressive heat falls upon the camp. Across the water, even the laughers seem to be chuckling half heartedly, having to drag their thick fur around. They seem ill-tempered and violent across the water. Near the spring, the grazers and marmites seem equally irritable and combative. There's an unrestive sense to the night, the animals all over the island are moving tonight. People are sweating through their sleeping bags and clothes and are generally feeling soupy.

Everywhere, all over the island, the damp air and oppressive heat is having a nearly wonderous effect on the bushes. Their clustered and numerous buds are opening gracefully, quick enough that the human eye can watch it happen. Each graceful pink throated flour exhales a breath of pale pink pollen as it opens which drifts on scant breezes or coats the ground near the clumps of bushes. As people walk over them it stirs up a cloud of the stuff around their feet and legs.

With so much of this pollen around, it's inevitable that people may inhale it, or absorb some of it into their skin. The poor unsuspecting inhabitants of this tiny island are about to discover that the pollen of these bushes is this world's natural aphrodisiac. It gets people's blood up, one might say, in an amorous and euphoric sort of way. This can be dangerous because it lowers peoples inhibitions. They may be more inclined to fight for what they want. The children are unaffected as it only seems to strike those who've already gone through puberty.

Disasterous for some? Just good fun for others? We shall see.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

The night is windy, gusting loose sand under carts and into the openings of lean-tos. It moans across the plains in the eeriest way, only made all the more creepy by the laughers on the far bank. There had been no sign of Olivia by nightfall, those who searched for her were relatively certain that she wasn't on the island. Around the fire in the morning it's widely believed she may have drowned while bathing. Olivia never hid the fact that she was terrified by the water, a very poor swimmer. The council asks that all eyes keep an eye on the water, as grave as that sounds, incase she happens to surface.

The winds die down into absolute stillness by morning. The surface of the lake is as smooth as glass without a single ripple. The day is still and hot. Gauzy clouds cover the sky, filtering the sun and insulating the earth. Over the afternoon the humidity builds to the point where you feel wet in the lungs when you draw a deep breath. Air fit to drown in. Any exertion at all brings sweat out on the skin. No one would believe that winter was around the corner today! The only areas of relief are the spring and the lake.

Two things of note are discussed at breakfast. The first is that Sophie and Rowan hand out small and crispy flatbreads with the usual breakfast of milk melon and grazer jerky. They have perfected the recipe of sweetgrind flour, fostriche egg, a pinch of hummabee salt and a splash of ungoat's milk. Two flatbreads per person and a small stack of them packed up for the lumberjacks to take with them for lunch. The second thing is Bazzer's presentation of two cured laugher hides. He proclaims them to be finished and offers them to the Council to decide where they would best be put to use. The debate begins! Shoes or shelter?

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

The day dawns with cloudy skies and moderate temperatures of 24C (75F) and relatively high winds. A storm does not seem imminent, but the breeze will prevail all day long. It will prove to be a good day for drying any items that have been laundered, although care will need to be taken with the fire so sparks won't ignite the lean-tos or the nearby brush.

At the exact northeastern point of the island, not far from the shore, someone will discover a graveyard that shows signs of once having been carefully tended. There are nine wooden crosses arranged in rows, lashed together with strong vine, although some of the ties have loosened and some of the crossties have fallen to the ground. Some of the inscriptions carved into the wood are no longer legible, but some are; the most recent is marked with a name and the date '2006?' The graveyard is surrounded by brush and rocks, at least somewhat sheltered from the wind and rain, and there is an eerie silence that hangs over it. It is approximately half an hour's walk from camp, and nearly an hour's walk from where Quinn Landry was buried.

Once evening falls and the tribe gathers for an evening meal, it will be discovered that Olivia is nowhere to be found. At first others might assume she has gone to use the restroom or to take an evening bath, but if anyone should go searching for her, they won't find her.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

Day Twenty Nine dawns with a big of the fair charm of a few days ago. Nights spent under a lean-to or a cart were dry and warm enough though it was a bit breezy. The sun rises white and warm and as the day progresses, big fluffy and unthreatening clouds sail over head. It's the perfect day for working outside which is good because, really, they have no inside.

First thing in the morning, over grazer steaks fried on a stone, the council calls everyone's attention. It's been decided that a bit more organization is in order. Everyone's encouraged to join a couple of details for the day order to be sure all chores or completed. Four details are described. They are:

Animal training:

Nefertiti has been encouraged to locate any straggling grazers on the island and observe their behaviour as an opening bid for domesticating them. However, since the island is a dangerous and mostly unknown place, the council encourages one person to accompany her on her venture just in case there is an accident.

Camp/Food duties:

They ask that two people sign up to maintain the camp today and see to all of the cooking and clean-up involved in feeding a group of people over the course of the day. These duties can also include feeding the pesks, milking the goat, tending to the smoking haunch of grazer, keeping the fire burning, fetching water from the spring and also preparing food and cleaning up after meals.

Lumber detail:

As many as five people are encouraged to sign up to venture off of the island and look for a stand of trees to be chopped down and brought back to camp using the carts made my Kenneth and the stone axes made by Adnan. It's suggested that anyone who signs up for this detail be aware that it might be dangerous, there is the threat of sunburn and dehydration, as well they would be expected to do a lot of physical work and heavy lifting.

Tannery Clean-Up:

In the wake of the dog attack the previous day, Bazzer could use a helping hand in cleaning up the mess made at his tannery and also looking for ways to secure the tannery from animals in the future. This might involve gathering and building stones for a piled stone fence (for now) or any other genius method anyone can think of.

Scout Duty: One person is asked to volunteer to perch at the top of the spring (the tallest point on the island) and keep a look out for packs of wild dogs, mountain rocs or any other threats. In the event that something is spotted, they're supposed to hurry back to camp and warn everyone there before heading off to locate anyone else who might need help.

( Mod Notes )

The day is slightly overcast and a little cooler, the cloud cover and the temperature decrease to approximately 22C (72F) bringing relief for those who got a little too much sun the day before. The water is a comfortable temperature for bathing or fishing, and it seems as if it will be another idyllic day until late morning.

That is when a pack of eight wild dogs swim across the lake and invade camp. They are vicious, slat-thin creatures with their skin drawn tightly over their ribs, bearing a resemblance to ordinary dogs in some respects-- in the same way Aaron's feral cats resemble their tamer relatives-- except with larger paws with extra toes, pointed, furless ears like a boxer's and unusual colorations and patterns to their hides. The animals instantly wreak havoc, snarling at any human they happen to encounter, eating any food that has been left near the fire in pots or hung to dry, attempting to get at the pesks in their cages, snatching any loose items out of lean-tos that they can and then spreading out to invade Bazzer's tannery to play tug of war with any skins they might get hold of. Something will have to be done, because if left unchecked the animals could bite or maul the children or anyone without weapons to defend themselves.

When evening falls, there's a distant meteor shower; however, none of the rocks which caused so much trouble the last time lands anywhere near the island or the grassland immediately near it.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

In an extreme but welcome contrast to the previous morning, the day dawns bright and breezy with low humidity. By mid-morning, the temperature has climbed to 27C (80F), and there's not a cloud to be seen in the sky. It's an easy matter to relight the fire with the strategic use of a pair of glasses, and it's a perfect day to completely dry out any still-damp items, work on building (or rebuilding) lean-tos and assess what else needs to be done to make the campsite more secure and more functional. It's also a prime time for the council to discuss not only what's next for the group but also the departure of four people during the storm the previous morning.

Sunburn is a strong possibility today for anyone who works out in the open and does not cover up; time to lay in a supply of burnbutter.

There are two discoveries that could be made today if anyone wanders from the campsite: fostriches, whose eggs would be a good source of additional protein, and what appears to be a stone altar on the northwest shore of the camp.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

The expected storm does not break until just before dawn. Overnight, the temperature has dropped nearly thirty degrees to 4C (40F), heralding intense weather. It begins with torrential rains that send anyone who does not have a lean-to to sleep beneath diving for cover, whether into one of the completed lean-tos or into the trees and brush that circle two sides of the camp. As light dawns in the sky, it is pushed back by dark clouds, high winds and quarter-sized hail, and the air is filled with the panicked sounds of grazers lowing and running in circles and crashing through the brush to try to escape this torment. The fire has been extinguished by the downpour, which means that the creatures blunder through camp, as well.

As the storm front moves over the camp and then out over the grasslands and the heavy rain and hail end, a small group consisting of Clay, Payne, Jeannie and Milo takes advantage of the confusion to head North, where they will cross the lake in the light drizzle that remains of the storm and strike out on their own.

Out over the grasslands, the ominous path of the storm can be clearly seen: not one but two separate tornadoes can be glimpsed as the morning wears on, sweeping up everything in their path: trees, boulders, grazers. They are a terrifying sight, but fortunately they are headed away from the island, and eventually, as midday approaches, the rain completely stops and the winds recede. The sun emerges and the temperature stabilizes at a high of 13C (55F), although camp is still a sodden mess, and the fire needs to be re-lit... if anyone can find any dry wood.

The morning dawns with considerable cloud cover; dark, ominous clouds completely obscure the sun for the entire day. The high will reach about 22C (68F), and the weather will be windy and blustery. It will look as if a storm is rolling in, but it won't rain. At various times during the day, any unsecured items will blow around, possibly never to be seen again if they are not caught! The water around the island is also affected; fish are easily caught today, both in the choppy lake and when they wash up on shore.

At mid-morning, Father Alex will hold a graveside service for Quinn, who died the previous morning of anaphylaxis; the news had made its way around camp by evening. Cross and Arlo dug the hole for his interment, a process that took a couple of hours with the makeshift tools they had to use. In other, more cheerful camp news, the notebook Analiese found is indeed written in Russian, according to Delilah. After the first few pages are read, a discovery is made that will aid everyone: mint brush, a tough, spiky, mint-flavored plant stalk that can be used as a toothbrush. It grows in most shady areas on the island.

After all daylight fades from the sky, lightning begins to flicker and thunder to rumble. The night air is heavy and oppressive, and the wind is high. The light show continues for several hours, but there is still no rain, and eventually it fades to the occasional grumble of thunder.

It seems as though whatever force it is that governs this planet has taken pity on our small group of adventurers today. Not only was the night mild, but the day dawns clear and warm. By noon it is positively summery. The sky is a vast blue bowl and the sun is bright and warm. Not a cloud in the sky. Overhead all day long are honking clusters of this realms version of a goose. Long necked like swans and vivid green in colour, these birds swoop in to paddle around the lake for the day on their flight south.

Life has a somewhat idyllic sense today but almost everyone who was sick the day before is feeling much better. Their fevers broke and with the sun today, cold bones are finally starting to warm up again. For those who decide to venture out of camp and into the world today, well fortune pays them back with infinite kindness.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

After a very wet evening it merely adds insult to injury when the temperature drops even further. In the darkest hours of the night it dips as low as 8C (46F). Out of necessity, whether you like your neighbour or not, you're forced to get close to them. Body heat and the wakeful people stoking the fire is the only thing to keep a chilly death from hypothermia at bay.

This is more than bad news to many. It's making the notion of being able to freely swim back and forth across the lake seem out of reach. With limited clothing amongst them, there's no dry clothes to change in to. There's no towels, just bedding and if it's used to dry people off, then they have to sleep damp at night. All in all, the night is hard on morale, even with the laughers safely held at a distance.

The following day never gets any warmer than 18C (64F) but the sky is clear and sunny. No signs of rocs and the grazers move about their lives. Several people wake up not feeling quite so well, however. Glassy eyed and warm with fever, people feel lethargic and achy. Unable to get warm. Perhaps everyone has just been pushed too far physically over the past few days. The long walk, the cold water, the limited food. Sun burn and sun stroke. Not to mention the cold nights spent out of doors. It's no surprise that people are beginning to run down.

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

There are more laughers in the grasslands tonight, a long ways off mercifully but it's quite obvious that the reprieve of the past couple of days might be coming to a close sooner rather than later. With only a single lean-to built it's camp out around the fire time. The night is clear and again, cool, and the stars are stunning without the curtains of clouds that had covered the sky all day long. The ground is a bit damp but after such a long walk I doubt anyone minds. Not to mention the singular bliss of being able to stretch out flat!

There are rounds of clam digging and clam bake pits are set up and marked on the beach for the morning's breakfast. Now that everyone is back together again, there are plenty of things to discuss! What are the most pertinant building jobs to be performed on the island? What resources are they going to have to try to find? Since the numbers have grown again, who delegates and who gets delegated?

( Mod Notes - Please Read, Added To )

Despite the fear of those caught out in the open on the grasslands during the night, the inevitable slaughter never arrives. Kenneth only has to expend three rounds when a pair of hunting laughers - perhaps too old to take part in the mating frenzy on the clay flats - comes upon the band of refugees. The two animals are safely put down, their pelts taken by firelight in the dark and added to Bazzer's growing collection. There is also a bit of the strange, tough laugher meat to be eaten the following day.

At the climber tree camp, there is an awful lot of noise but none of the animals seem to come closer than the edge of the field. Jasper and her two small charges cling to the wicker hammocks, swaddled in her single sleeping bag for warmth. Aside from the chilly drop in temperature at night (15C, 59F), it is uneventful.

On the island, the night is very quiet, save for the occupants. The grazers low every now and then as they jostle each other and doze on their feet. The humans keep the fire going throughout the night to keep the larger animals at bay and they also huddle for warmth, as it dips to 13C (55F) up there. There's a damp feel in the air, which the fire holds back a little.

Dawn comes and brings only a lightening grey to the sky. Clouds had rolled down from the north during the night, out of the mountains. In the distance, the peaks are invisible as a dark storm has enveloped them. Lightening can be seen from a distance and thunder crashes over the flat landscape from time to time. The rain comes by mid morning, though it's intermittant, and the wind is chilly. It makes for a bit of mud which slows them down a bit but at least there's no worry of sunburn or stroke today. By nightfall, the lake is in sight. Camp? Or push on in the dark?

( Mod Notes - Please Read )

The ferocity of the competition between male laughers (who seem to comprise the bulk of the laugher hunting parties) has not let up so much as an inch. The laughing doesn't even pass for the sickest type of mirth anymore, it's all malice. There aren't even enough fit male laughers to drag all of the bodies of the dead male laughers home for the babies. As a result, the camp and field are littered with corpses this morning when the sun rises. Truly a vile sight.

The night was a little bit warmer than the night before, dipping no cooler than 18C (64F) and the day warms up as they move out from under the canopy and out into the dazzling sunny grasslands.

Upon waking up, everyone bundles their bedding into the carts made by Ken and start the arduous journey. This is a long, slow trek involving hoisting the loaded carts over roots and around boulders. There are no beasts of burden to pull them, so people must push and pull the contraption which runs on wheels which are not perfectly round.

Out in the grass the sun is hot and bright enough to cause sunburn or sunstroke. People are encouraged to drink from streams as they are found. It's possible that people discover new plants or animals along the way. Sadly it won't be a fun day for people who arrived without shoes. All you can do is grit your teeth and carry on!

When the sun sets, they are still half a day from the spindle tree camp. With no way to climb up off of the ground or save the carts, no doubt a little bit of panic sets in. Mercifully, when the dark truly settles in, the laughers never make it out into the grassland, being far too interested in each other - for the time being.

Another chilly night of wild Laugher antics bathes the forest in blood once again. With temperatures dipping as low as 14C (57F) in the forest and 12C (53F) at the island, people must be beginning to wonder if a serious change in the seasons is about to occur. It doesn't help that the sun stays hidden for most of the day, with a damp and muffled feeling on the ground. It breaks through and bathes the land in it's fierce white light just as it's gaining momentum (or so it seems) on it's downward arc.

Kenneth made a point of getting everyone's attention to announce that Helena and Cross had not returned in the time that he'd expected them to. Since his carts were completed and functional he felt that it was time to pack up and head northeast to the island on their own. His announcement made it perfectly clear that he was going, whether everyone was with him or not. He left it up to everyone to decide if they would be coming or staying. If they are coming along though, he encourages everyone to harvest as much of the useful items that they can - yarnball fruit, ying yang beans stored in water in one of Ryan's successful clay pots, milk melons, cages of pesks, heaps of fragrant bloodfruit, shocklate, Bazzer's skins and pelts, yards of grassrope and clay jars of resin, make one last round to look for found items in pesk nests and grassmats as well as coils of climber vines with the hope that they'll still be pliable by the time they get where they are going. Spectacles, testicles, wallet and watch, people. It's time to be making ready to leave.

( Mod Notes )

There is something about the laughters tonight that raises the hairs. There seem to be more of them and their laughter seems...very different. We are entering into laugher mating season. The aggression level has escalated and the packs of laughers seem more interested in each other for once than each other. They fight brutally amongst themselves and the winners take the spoils of the female pack members.

In the morning the woods are liberally spattered with the blood of laughers. There are claw gouges and bite marks on the trees and the underbrush has been shreaded. Anything left on the ground from the previous day has been shredded. The decreased population of the pesks even seem subdued today, unnerved by what is going on in the woods.

Food, as always is still a concern and a few enterprising individuals might stumble across a hunk of laugher left behind. That, aside from the melon, is all that seems to be available to eat. On the island, there is even less that is familiar as food.

The last concern is the weather. At night while the laughers rage, the temperature drops as low as 10C (50F) in the forest and possibly as low as 8C (46F) at the island. There is little wind, which is a mercy. The day, though cloudless and sunny, is also cooler than normal. The temperature never rises above 16C (60F). It's a chilly day. Is it a fluke? Or are there much cooler days ahead?

The laughers don't take the night off for the rain and their moods seem to be as foul as everyone else's. The packs fight amongst themselves, even close under the climber tree. In the morning there will be drying pools of blood and clumps of fur but no bodies to scavenge.

Everyone is a bit damp and the rainwater trickles out of the canopy but the day is clear and sunny. It warms up to 30C (86F) in the afternoon with a bit of muggy humidity left over.

If anyone is curious, the milk melons which are thick along the stream have reached an edible ripeness - find a way to crack some open!

The night is much like any other - full of laughers. However, the night sky, where it can be seen, is quite a night time display! The stars, always intensely vivid, don't seem to hold still tonight. A meteor shower lights up the land and a few of these chunks of rock and mineral and ice make it through the atmosphere to strike the land with the sound splintering trees, muted thuds and shrieking predators. It's over well before dawn, a few steaming craters in the field. The little lumps in the bottom of the craters are far too hot to get anywhere near.

As if this wasn't enough to talk about! By early light it's obvious that the pesks are not ok. The small tree living creatures are agitated, their normal curious chitter replaces with a squeal of rage. They charge each other and knock each other out of the trees. Many of whom fall to their deaths as they are unable to recover fast enough from the blows to glide to the earth.

By mid-morning everyone near any of these meteor strikes begins to notice a headache throbbing behind their eyes. Before long their teeth are aching painfully and they're feeling sensitive to light and sound. People start to feel irritable and maybe even a few fights break out. Whatever it is, it isn't unlike the pesks who just can't seem to stand the sight of each other.

This continues on until the evening when the clouds roll in and a modest downfall of rain begins. The many woven and resin-treated mats have been tied up in the tree in such a way that it keeps the bulk of the rain off of the hammocks so no one is sleeping in wet beds tonight. The wind isn't too bad either. With the damp, the headache seems to ease. Mud and water wash into the craters and cover up the offending space junk. Peace returns to the tree, but was there any irrevocable damage done to relationships during the day?

( Mod Notes - Please Read )