“
Welcome to Syka!” Captain James Chaliva’s baritone resounded as he spread his arms wide, his striking sea-blue gaze alight within a lined, weather-worn face full of experience. Anuk felt his smile infectious, tugging her lips over her teeth to reveal sharp incisors.
“We could do with your craft here, I’m sure there is someone who will need a guide on their excursions. There’s still much to explore here…”As the captain’s voice trailed off his gaze sought the jungle and the wilds beyond the settlement. His brows furrowed lightly, and Anuk thought he looked troubled. Shunting her weight into her hip impatiently, she leant on the shaft of her spear, the kelvic was about to ask what stole his thoughts, when the captain roused and gestured to a tree-house nearby.
“You can find news, company and shelter in The Commons over there. If you need anything, just ask. We’re a community here, and we survive together.” Anuk dipped her head in acknowledgement, and the captain bid her good day and left her to herself. The feline-woman glanced back at the reed canoe she had arrived in, her backpack and all her worldly possessions settled in its bow, which led her gaze out to the ocean. Watching the rolling waves, a pang of homesickness and doubt lynched her. The young kelvic had left her family, the crew and the ship she had spent her life aboard to make it on her own. With a deep, steadying breath, the kelvic’s gaze wandered toward the jungle. This was now, this was home—
adventure awaited.
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After keeping to herself and scouting out the settlement at first, Anuk was feeling a little lonely and at odd ends. The lioness was used to the bustling of a ship and its boisterous crew, not the quiet, relaxing retreat of sand and surf. Curiosity drew the kelvic to The Commons, where she read the posting. Someone was seeking rare birds in the jungle, inviting ‘
anyone free and qualified to not die in the jungle’. Anuk’s nose wrinkled as she grinned in amusement. It was time she made friends. And some coin.
Anuk returned to her hammock, which she pitched wherever her heart fancied under a waterproofed tarp. The kelvic slipped out of the linen trousers she was wearing and donned her leather leggings instead. Pulling on her tough boots and strapping a broad leather belt around her baggy linen blouse, before tossing a mustard linen cowl over head and bundling it around her neck. She hung a coil of hemp rope and a full waterskin on her belt. She kneeled in the sand and made sure she had packed her dried food rations, flint and steel, a flask of bunwol oil.
It took her a chime or two to find her compass, which had been half-buried in sand. A smile settled amid her features as she lingered over holding the bone compass in her hand, admiring the markings that had been etched into its rim for protection and good luck. It had been her mother’s compass. It was packed too.
Then she set about taking down her hammock and tarp, folding them neatly to stuff into the backpack. Brushing sand off her leggings as she got to her feet, lastly the kelvic grabbed her kopis, giving it a few swings before tying it to her hip on a loose, leather thong. Now all she was missing was her spear, so the lioness hefted the backpack onto her shoulder and made down the beach towards her reed canoe, laying above the tide-line, to retrieve it. Feeling satisfactorily prepped, the lioness made her way toward the meeting place.
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As she approached, her gaze took in the small party that had gathered with surprise. So she halted a few metres apart, lingering, as she took in the prospective bird-watchers. Scents she took in first, committing them to mind that she might find her jungle crewmembers if they got lost or separated in the jungle.
Nya’s caught her first and a smile played shadows into her features. Another feline, that was welcome. The lioness peered at the other kelvic curiously. Before she caught the Dhani’s scent, and so her gaze. The lioness couldn’t work out the scent, not having met snakes much in her life, her brow furrowing gently and her lip lifted lightly in the ghost of a snarl. Before her eye was caught by the brilliantly red arm of the Isurian smith, and then by Merevaika, with fierce eyes and who lingered on the fringes of the gathering.
Not shy, the lioness mused,
but a loner, maybe. Lastly, the lioness’ blue-and-brown orbs fell on the center of the inquisitive interrogation—Thomas. Anuk took in his waife-like countenance and a breath huffed through her nose. He looked like he would need the most looking after.
Lifting the butt of her spear from the sand, the kelvic settled it into its holder across her back and decided to save the man from the inquisition, spilling her gravelly, feline voice into the din.
“I am Anuk, a jungle guide. You wish to see rare birds; it is not so?”