As a group we ran down the various paths of the forest alternating between a casual jog and a dead sprint. The path we traversed was covered in various natural obstacles.
Fallen trees, boulders and flowing rivers covered our path at every turn. For many of the men it was a simple affair of stepping over certain obstacles that bared their way, their six foot plus statues allowed them to ignore the rough terrain.
I found myself being forced to exert more effort to cross these thresh holds, however I noticed my balance and speed far outstripped the warrior Satyr's. Where the men were forced to ford rivers and streams I was able to find alternative routes over the water.
Loose stepping stones, low hanging branches or even a few floating logs served as valid paths for my light weight frame. In the case of the floating logs and low hanging branches, I would be lying if I said I was an expert right off the bat.
I took several dirt naps and surprise baths before I figured out what my instincts were telling me. Whether from ingrained Satyr knowledge or muscle memory it only took me a few tries before I was deemed passable.
I would have to work on these skills to make them my own but I was already getting a decent feel for the body I acquired. Every time I fell or tripped I was greeted with jeers and laughter, but by the end of the day I witnessed a few of the so called veterans fall prey to the woods endless tricks.
Seeing the men give their senior members the same once over as I received filled me with relief. I feared that due to situation I was being unconsciously singled out. Soon I found myself teasing the boys nearly as much as they teased me.
Usually about my height, that I responded with sharp jabs to their sides. I may not have the same fury temper as my predecessor but I have to admit. The whole short thing was starting to get on my nerves.
It's like always being just out of reach of everything around you, the jokes and jeers aside, having to half jump to reach reasonably placed handholds and the like was irritating in its own way. I could see where Eveline got her fury temper.
A few hours before mid day we returned to the clearing where I was instructed on the use of the bow and arrow. I used a bow and arrow before as part of a gym class, but I was used to the compound bows of the modern age.
Honestly speaking the hand crafted recurve bows were a sight to behold. They were simple in design and polished to a glossy shine. The way the bows were shaped showed that the bow maker knew exactly what they were doing.
The handle was wrapped in a thin coarse fabric and I could feel well placed finger grooves beneath the cloth. Just above the handle was a slight indent, just big enough to place an arrow into and make drawing the bow easier and more comfortable.
On the string a discoloration in the thread helped determine the most optimal spot to place the arrow for a straight shot. Running my finger across the spot I could feel a difference in texture, meaning I could essentially find it with out looking with proper training.
At first my shots were sent wide, some of them hitting a target but never the one I aimed for. Derick after seeing my irritation advised that I mediate on the shot.
Clearing thinking he was crazy he explained plainly, when your over excited or nervous it is easy to mess up the basics, even for the veterans.
"Close your eyes and take a deep breath, feel the weight of the bow in your hands, the arrows on your hip. Now when your ready open your eyes and draw an arrow. As you do take another long deep breath and look at your target" He stated calmly and softly like talking to a timid animal.
"When you draw the bow back to fire, don't focus on where the arrow is placed on the string, don't worry about the way you hold your bow or the stance you take to fire. Only focus on your target. When you pull the bow back take in one final breath and release"
Following the instructions I felt the tension I didn't know I had fade away. I opened my eyes and trained my sight on the target in the distance. I knew the target was roughly fifty paces away, more then double the distance I fired from in my old life.
I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the target at hand. I pulled the arrow from its quiver at my hip and strung it to the bow. With out double checking how the arrow was placed I raised the bow and took a deep breath. The string pulled taut, in the instant I released my breath I loosed the arrow.
I watched as the arrow flew true, striking the target I was aiming for, for the first time that day. The shot was two rings to the left of bullseye but I wasn't expecting a center shot. I heard soft clapping behind me and I turned to look expecting sarcasm or the like. But instead I saw genuine smiles as though my pitiful shot was some how a gods send.
It wasn't until after the practice was over was I told the bow I was given was designed for accurate shots up to thirty paces. After roughly thirty five the shots would loose accuracy, they wanted to both test me and push my limits.
I managed to do both, I thought I'd be angry at the warriors for their little prank but instead I felt myself fill with pride. They took a chance and believed in me and I rose to the challenge.
That night I joined them on a short hunt. I was right to assume that my ability to see at night was due to my new racial change. Satyr's while not being the best at night vision boasted great eye sight in low light conditions.
We managed to take down a stag and I was given a crash course in skinning and butchering. I thankfully didn't have to do it myself as I found myself relived of my morning breakfast, or what was left. The pooling blood of a dying creature, the repugnant smell of copper and rust forced me to excuse myself from the group.
We Satyr's apparently have extremely sensitive senses of smell and any odor can cause an uncomfortable sensation or nausea if it is too strong. I vaguely remember my ability to track the wolves my first night but at that time I wasn't thinking straight. I relied completely on instinct, I doubted I can consciously replicate the feat with out much difficulty.
We took the meat and furs to town where I was reintroduced to old friends. First time for me of course but Eveline knew these people for years. It still astonishes me how well they handle my lack of knowledge and memory. It's almost as if this happens often around here and I'm just the latest development.
I was given a share of the meat from the kill and a few strips of the fur that I was promised would be treated by the tanner and delivered to Gwen on my behalf. I nodded not really caring for a few strips of fur, the meat on the other hand took all my attention.
I was always under the impression that satyr's were vegetarians and only ate of the forests bounty. I mean sure the furs lining all the homes were a clear sign but all the meal I partook so far were from the plants of the forest.
I just assumed that they hunted for the furs or made use of naturally deceased animals, thinking back however I realize that my thoughts were biased and based on lore from earth. The same lore that stated Satyr's were drunk sex addicts and often partook of large quantities of liqueur and orgies.
I personally have yet to see a drop of alcohol and the only sign of extra curricular activities were the kids I see occasionally running around. That being said I have only been here for two days and have seen and heard the opposite. Eveline's tragic story was a testament to their social values and I respect them for it, they are an honest and caring people.
That thought brought me back to the stares of disappointment in the villagers eyes. Watching the hope drain from their eyes.
"Sooner rather then latter I will have to leave this village and enter the world outside. For as welcome as I feel towards some people, there is an invisible barrier isolating me from the masses. Besides, regardless of how my heart feels about Gwen or the warriors, remnants of Eveline's feelings no doubt, I can't help but feel guilty for taking them for granite"
Those feeling faded away as I approached Gwen's tent with my prize in hand. I found myself wrapped in a warm embrace and swept inside our home. She took the meat and lit a fire just outside the tent, as the fire grew she used the berries to flavor the meat. The juices were expertly kneaded into the tender flesh.
When the fire was stoked to a roaring flame Gwen pulled out a large flat stone from behind the bed and placed it on the fire. She placed the meat on the stove top and starting digging around the back of the tent.
Her short bushy tail poking out behind her, discreetly I rubbed my lower back and found a similar tail as well. I quickly replaced my hands in my lap when Gwen turned around, she gave me a quizzical look but ignored me to tend to our dinner. I felt heat rush to my face at being caught, embarrassed I busied myself with setting up utensils on the log.
Luckily the forks and knives were stashed in the same place the flat stone was so it was easy to find. And for once I felt like I knew what I was doing, I just finished when Gwen turned around to see the set up. She gave a bright and cheerful smile before cutting the steak in half and serving us both.
The first bite was like a piece of heaven, the moan that escaped my mouth made Gwen spit out her piece in laughter. I was again embarrassed by my own actions but the heightened sense of taste and smell made even the most basic meals taste like I was royalty. The sounds I make will experiencing those sensations however are more then a little embarrassing.
After the meat was cleared from my plate I glared at Gwen's piece like a starved wolf. This luckily rewarded me more meat, to which I was extremely grateful. I offered to clean everything if I was told where to clean them. I was directed outside to a second bucket of fresh water. I was told this bucket was used for drinking water until before night time.
After the last meal of the day the left over clean water was used to clean the dishes and extinguish the cook fire. Most people here have that method but most eat at the social cook fire, before I was made chieftain Eveline and Gwen often avoided the social cook house and instead partook of Eveline's daily catch.
After I finished cleaning the dishes I made my way back into the tent and stored the dishes back to their rightful place. Looking around for Gwen I found her in bed with her arms open wide in my direction.
I hesitated, the first time we were both exhausted and spent from crying. We ended up sleeping together by coincidence. It was different however to willingly crawl into the arms of a beautiful Satyr.
I shook my head from those thought and made my way over to Gwen, she cooked for me tonight and she clearly cares for me. Or should I say Eveline, the least I could do is go along with her whims. Besides who would say no to those puppy dog eyes.
I crawled into bed where I was snatched and held tightly to her chest. She shuffled a bit until she could comfortably encase me in warmth, I wrapped my arms over hers and snuggled in closer as I closed my eyes for the night. I sighed in comfort as dreams swept me away to oblivion.