She turned her back on the wreck and went to pick up her sack.
She was getting hungry, and tubers held little appeal.
It was time she learned how to hunt.
Chapter 4
To ease into the craft of hunting, Addie decided to target small animals called Truneds.
Catching Truneds, in theory, was easy as pie. They weren’t as slow as Hicar bugs, but they weren't fast either, at least by the local standards, and could be killed with a slingshot. Dannica used to crow that she could get a drop on them on the first try. And if you were truly fast, as Sathe had been, throwing a well-aimed rock by hand could do the job.
Well, Addie’s hands weren't as fast as Sathe’s, even though hers were in full working order. Neither did Addie have a slingshot, but this problem, at least, could be helped.
After leaving the spaceship wreck and walking for another two days, Addie chose a flat spot to camp out. She wanted to rest and organize. She planned to manufacture a slingshot. She needed clay to finally make herself a decent pot. After all, the mountains weren’t going anywhere, and she had all the time to reach them.
She pitched an awkward tent using twigs sourced from the nearest bush and the skins she had salvaged from the city. The structure was barely stable and listed to one side, but Addie surveyed her handiwork with no small amount of pride.
“Check it out, my two sunshines. This is our home.” She dusted her hands as Ihr and Ehr explored the newly erected teepee by carefully sniffing its top. They didn’t look overly impressed, but Addie didn’t care. Tonight, she’d sleep in the cozy darkness, unafraid of a stray Hicar paralyzing her with its acidic bite.
There were other, more dangerous creatures to be on guard against, but Addie wouldn't think of that tonight. One step at a time.
The making of a slingshot took a whole lot longer than she’d anticipated. Finding a two-pronged branch was easy. Sawing it off with a crude stone knife was not. Still, she doggedly kept at it until her arm muscles steamed in protest and sweat broke out all over her body from the effort. Her reward was a sturdy frame to which she added notches to keep the band from slipping.
Making a stretchy band required more ingenuity. With nothing else to work with except fibers from the grasses that grew around, Addie kept busy well into Ihr sun’s greenish appearance, separating hard unbending fibers and soaking them in Nipi berries juice, like Sathe had taught her, to make them pliant - and, in the process, red, - and finally braiding them to form a thin rope.
The final product had a very little stretch to it, nowhere near the elasticity of a rubber band, and she would need to get pretty close to her prey to shoot it, but that night Addie fell asleep with a feeling of intoxicating self-accomplishment. She could build a house. She could make a weapon.
Maybe she could even fly, who knew.
The next morning, she set out on a mission to find Truneds.
The animals were furry and brown and moved around by hopping on their one leg bent forward at the knobby knee and was disproportionately long compared to their compact body. They had four upper paws for grasping seeds and berries, two rat tails presumably for stability, and a long ear on the right side of their head. Their two eyes, the most “normal” part of the animal’s appearance, reminded Addie of rabbits. And they tasted like chicken.
“Come here, little chickens. Show yourselves,” she crooned, crouched in the patch of tall grass, scanning the area with sharp eyes. In her mind, she had already planned for Truned jerky to go with the fungi on her dinner menu.
The Yuux were hovering above, as per usual, and she wondered if her companions were the reason Truneds stayed out of sight. She gave the Yuux a pensive look, but nothing could be done about them now. They wouldn’t respond to commands since they knew no commands to respond to. Yet.
“Training. You need training, friends,” she muttered.
The grass rustled up ahead, and she thought she saw brown fur moving amid the clumps of blade-shaped shoots. Squinting one eye and sticking her tongue out in concentration, Addie aimed her slingshot, careful not to overstretch the band and break it.
It was a good shot but not great. The rock projectile whistled past the Truned, the animal snorted - or farted - in surprise, and skedaddled by hopping like crazy on its one leg. The grasses swayed in its wake and went still.
“Son of a bitch,” Addie said succinctly.
She blew out a frustrated breath when someone giggled nearby.
Every organ inside Addie’s body did a somersault. She turned around so violently that she almost lost her balance. There! She saw where the grasses moved against the wind. Holding the slingshot in a death grip, heart pumping blood hard enough to make her lightheaded, she crept, bent low, in the direction of the sound.
The grass swished following a faint sound of steps. Another giggle and some whispering reached her ears.
Addie followed and came to where the grass ended at a large outcropping of boulders. She parted the tall stems and peered at the rocks.
Two faces peered back.
Slowly, Addie straightened up.
“Hello,” she said tentatively to the faces in For.
