Solo Harvesting the Moon

[Maro]

Harvesting the Moon 34th of Spring, 515 AV Excited by the prospect of what the night could hold, Maro quickly packed everything he thought he could possibly need. He had some firewood that had been brought over from the mainland and that he had kept stored indoors to keep dry. Also in the pack was flint and steel, a lantern, a few vials, and a jar of premade dough of water, egg, flour, and honey. A few personal items were in there as well, including a book of fairytales and a bell gifted by Dira to Autumn. On his person, Maro was carrying his two bolas, his obsidian knife, and his coat. He had bought a tent and tied it to his backpack. Picking up his fishing pole, he opened the door for Autumn. She waited just inside the doorframe, nowhere near as excited as he was about this outing. “Are you sure this is a good idea, Maro? It’s raining. You’ll get soaked.” “That’s what the coat and the tent are for. Besides, it’s barely raining. You could barely even call this a drizzle.” Autumn poked her head out the door and looked around. She didn’t like leaving the house. “We’ve never spent a full night in the wild. Are you sure this is wise?” “No. I’m not, but this isn’t about wisdom. This is about something more. This is about us. This is about living and discovery. Besides, I have a surprise for you.” This caught Autumn’s attention. Normally, she knew of most surprises before he revealed them, because he had to bring them home. As stealthy as he tried to be, she was a ghost, and she never slept, making sneaking about in the house nearly impossible. Whatever surprise he had, he had not brought it home. Curious, she stepped through the door, waited for him to close and lock it, and followed him as he made his way through the streets of Black Rock. They threaded their way through town, ignoring the few late evening walkers and nodding a greeting to the pair of Omens they passed on the way. The sun was still up but was quickly sinking toward the horizon as Maro and Autumn came to the archway. They crossed over, moving from the rock solidity of the portion of the island that housed the city to the wet marshland that dominated the rest of the island. He loved the way the ground felt as it squelched up between his toes. Stopping for a moment, he reveled in the way the soggy earth felt on the soles of his bare feet. Tonight was going to be perfect. “Is this where we’re stopping?” Autumn asked, unimpressed by the surroundings. “No. I was just taking a moment to get oriented.” As soon as he headed off again, Autumn was right at his side, tagging along with bodiless steps. Out here where there was no one to watch her, where Maro was her only companion, she relaxed and began to skip along and finally to dance to some song in her head. Maro could only wonder at what it was. She refused to sing, even for him. In his mind, he imagined it was a song she had learned in a time before she had died, a time before she had met her fiancé, a time when she was happy. They were wandering on a path that would seem aimless to Autumn, but the truth was Maro was lost. He was so certain he had remembered the right way to go, but nothing was looking familiar, or rather, everything looked familiar. Marshes had a way of looking the same everywhere one went in them. Crossing through a waist-deep section, he came up on the other side and watched as Autumn danced over the surface of the water and twirled in a lazy circle while she watched the sky. “It’s gonna rain again soon, Maro, and dusk is coming. Are we almost there? You need to set up camp.” “Almost.” He was going to hate himself if he couldn’t find what he was looking for. The surprise would be ruined. He crossed back over and walked back the way he had come. Then, he smelled it. Mint. “Are you lost?” Autumn asked, realizing they were backtracking. “No. I just found where we were supposed to be. Take a deep breath.” “Maro, breathing is kind of pointless for me.” “Just try.” Autumn rolled her eyes but did as he asked. Taking a deep breath through her mouth, she sighed, just for effect. “Try it through your nose.” Autumn sighed again in annoyance but obeyed. She looked at Maro unimpressed with the little exercise until finally she sensed it. Her eyes widened. “Wraith mint! Where is it?” “Right underneath us. I just stepped in it.” Sure enough, the small plant was right at their feet, its transparent leaves nearly invisible in the rest of the surroundings. It had taken Maro several weeks of searching to find this large patch. He had heard some of the ghosts around town talking about the plant and how it made them feel as if they had sensations once again. Autumn had experienced the mint’s effects before, but it had been quite some time. The look on her face was already worth all the time he had spent.

[Maro]

Harvesting the Moon As light was quickly fading, Maro decided it was best to get his camp set up quickly. The first thing to do would be to get a fire going, so he’d have some light to see by as he set up the rest of his things. One fuel that was abundant on the island was Fargholian cow pies. While the constant rain kept the outsides soggy, if one was willing to scrape away the outer layers, there was dry, easily-flammable fuel ready for use on the inside. It was a trick he had been told about by one of the local fisherman, Old Man Dawson, an avid outdoorsman and explorer of the marsh. He found one of the cow pies not too far off and brought it back. Taking his knife from his belt, he peeled away the top layers of wet dung until he found the dry fibrous inner layer. Setting the cow pie at the base of where he wanted his fire, he placed tinder and kindling over this in miniature teepee fashion. With that finished, he created a second, larger teepee over this with several pieces of the firewood he had brought along. With his fire ready, Maro covered his little creation by hunching over it to protect it from the rain. His flint and steel struck together, creating little orange sparks that seemed to bur even brighter in the gathering darkness. He had to strike them together multiple times and shower the tinder and the cow pie with sparks before one of the specks of light landed and took. The small glimmer slowly spread across a piece of tinder, and Maro breathed on the small glow to give it more life. A small flame leapt up, and Maro blew on it until most of the tinder was burning and its flames were licking at the bottom of the larger pieces of wood. When those pieces finally caught, he moved about to setting up the rest of his camp. It was a relatively simple task; all that was left was putting the tent together. He had never attempted this before, but how hard could it really be? The tent came together in a bundle tied together with several straps. Loosening those, he unraveled the package and laid out the pieces of the tent in front of himself. Maro was a curious creature; the way he handled things he didn’t understand was to observe them first, sometimes for hours or days on end, and then once he thought he understood it, he acted. Today was no different. For half an hour, Maro stared at the unassembled tent, the rain soaking him completely, and he probably would have observed it longer if Autumn hadn’t interrupted his thoughts. “Maro, if you don’t get that tent made soon, you’re gonna end up sick.” He hadn’t realized how cold and wet he was until she mentioned it. A shiver swept down his spine, and a shake of his head shed droplets of water. It was good she had interrupted his thoughts. He was sure he understood the tent now, and his mind had begun to wander in unrelated thoughts. Hunkering down, he assembled the pieces of the pole and drove them into the ground in the vague resemblance of a frame. Folding the canvas of the tent over the frame, he stepped back and appreciated his work. Appreciated was a stretch. The frame sagged terribly in the middle and tilted dangerously to one side. Rain would undoubtedly accumulate in the sagging portion in the middle, and the whole thing would likely collapse part way through the night. Still, he had done it; he had successfully built a tent. He presented his work to Autumn. “What do you think?” She turned to look and immediately began to laugh. “Maro, if you had to live in the wild, I’m pretty sure you’d die.” He turned back to his creation and reevaluated it. She was probably right. Smiling ruefully, he shrugged. “It’ll do for the night. Shall I make some Mist?” “Yes, please.”