10th of Searing, 120
Something didn't feel right. it wasn't the stinging pain in her hands while she cleaned her cuts of all the gunk she'd gathered, no. It was as though she were staring down something obvious. She pulled her hands from the river's clear water to inspect them. There she found that the red of her skin had faded some, and the bleeding had stopped completely, likely due to the cold of the water. A brief smile crossed her lips, not to last. Not while thinking of the terror that Pacheco faced. Just earlier that morning, she'd discovered that her companion had broken his lead while bleeding, then walked calmly to the river bank before either crossing or being swept away by the flow. Due to how still the waters looked now, however, the latter wasn't all that likely.
So, to cross the river and inspect the opposite bank for more hoof prints, she'd knocked down a small tree with the intent of using it as a floating aid of sorts. Now was the time to cross. She'd refilled her waterskin and gathered her scattered belongings, bag included. With a deep bend of her knees, she collected her fallen tree with both hands, then pressed into her heels to lift the lumber with her legs and straightened back, which forced a huff of air from her lungs. A curl of her thick arms lifted the log to her chest with a distinct pull on her biceps. There, she could comfortably cradle the weight of the trunk. Turning was a little awkward with one end being heavier than the other, but she managed fine.
After taking a moment to adjust to the weight of the log, she lifted her left leg and moved forward. The cool of the flowing water climbed halfway up her shins as she proceeded carefully, doing her best not to slip on one fo the smooth riverbed rocks. Soon, the water had climbed up to her hips, and the log in her arms had grown much heavier. It was as though the wooden body of the bar in her arms wished to be united with the water, so, she eased the log downward and let the water take its weight. It floated, of course, and pushing down on it didn't immediately submerge it; it would make an excellent floating aid, just as she'd hoped.
The water continued to climb higher as she proceeded with her hands on the log, A gentle push kept the trunk in front of her as she waded deeper. When the surface of the water was up to her chest, she paused and took a moment to breathe. The pressure on her body was significant, and the flow of the water felt far stronger than it originally seemed. She had to brace against the current and squeeze a firm grip on the log to keep it in place as the water rushed by, which posed a thought: would she be able to swim against the current and make it to the other side? She'd not swam before, but how hard could it be? If the waters tried to contest her, she'd push back. Simple.
She drew one more deep breath, then pushed the log forward in a full extension of her arms before leaning toward it. Then, with an extension of her legs, she kicked off the river bed and leaned her weight to the log, expecting it to catch her weight. It didn't. At once, the log was submerged, and her head followed shortly after. Her silver eyes opened wide beneath the water as panic set in, though she held her breath fine for the time being. What did she do from there? Almost instinctually, she began to kick her legs, pushing her body forward. The riverbed grew further away and the pressure around her head eased before she broke the surface of the water and took a deep breath.
That was it; she was swimming! Not for long, however. As her head broke the surface, the tree sank again, and she was soon to follow. Her eyes were a blur, caught blinking rapidly in vain as her wet hair blotted her vision. It clung to her face like wet tree sap, only it shifted beneath the surface to allow her to stare at the river's floor. Her heart began to beat faster, and her paddling quickened. It was impossible to tell where she was, or if she was close at all, but she couldn't seem to come up without sinking further. With her head down, she was sort of streamline with the water. Or was she? The Jastai was unsure. So, to check, she turned her head a little, and her lips soaked in the warm morning air. At once, she exhaled and drew a quick breath. She didn't sink. The log was held out in front of her and her legs kicked wildly behind her, but she was afloat. A brief laugh escaped her lips at the realization, though she still couldn't see.
A sharp inhale filled her lungs once more before she turned her head to face the riverbed beneath the surface. That was when her heart sank; it wasn't ascending. The riverbed was at the same depth as it was before. Was it deeper? She couldn't tell This meant that she wasn't even halfway yet, surely. Either way, her legs were beginning to burn, and the need to turn to breathe became necessary more and more frequently. A mixture of her inability to see, the water that clogged her ears and nose alike, and the weight of her sopping wet animal hides all made the movements difficult, but she had to keep going. If she stopped, she'd drown. The fear of sinking kept her legs paddling despite her exhaustion; as though it were the only thing keeping her above the water.
The half giant's will to live was strong, but it couldn't overcome the fatigue in her legs. Her limbs were stiff, heavy even as if they were made of led. Try as she might move them, it was all in vain. She gave a couple more weak kicks before the buoyancy of her body failed, and she began to sink. Her immediate reaction was to put all her weight into her float and lift her head in a desperate last-ditch effort to stay above the water, but that only sank her fully beneath the surface with a final hard gasp. She couldn't breathe. The river was pushing her further down the stream while she clung to her nigh useless floating aid. Desperate, she threw her head up to break the surface of the water, but only managed a brief exhale that filled her palette with the taste of river water.
In a split-second decision, she released the log and began to claw at the water frantically with both hands, as if she'd planned to climb out of the depths of the river. It worked to some extent, but she couldn't keep afloat. Parting her lips, she spat the water from her mouth and drew another hard breath before screaming her plea for help. Someone had to be close by, someone who could swim, preferably. Just a second later, however, she sank again, falling under the current.
Her lungs hurt almost as much as her head, and the urge to breathe threatened to part her lips for her. Perhaps someone had heard her cries? In a split second, she managed to convince herself that she wouldn't die here, that someone would come to her rescue and pull her from the water. Then, in another, she gave up that hope while realizing that if anyone had heard her, they'd be too late. She was going to drown here unless she acted.
She could no longer climb the water when her arms grew as tired as her legs, but she'd managed to rest her legs some in her struggles. A hard kick saw her foot impact something hard, and she nearly cried out in pain if not for the fact that she was submerged. Desperate, she searched for it with her other foot, feeling blindly through the water before pressing the sole of her boot to its surface. It was wide, large enough to stand on, even. Desperate, she planted both her feet on it and kicked hard of its surface, which allowed her to break the surface of the water and steal a quick breath of air before gravity reclaimed her. By reflex alone, her legs remained fully extended in an unconscious effort to keep herself above the water, but she met with the flat surface again before she could even sink below her shoulders.
The giantess paused in thought before she brushed her hair out of her eyes, and looked about her surroundings. It took some rubbing, but her vision cleared to behold the morning sun as it reflected from the water. She was in the middle of the river, surrounded on both sides by water. This was the deepest part, and she could touch the bottom by standing... Confused and disoriented, she scanned her surroundings further, then spotted the riverbank she'd aimed to swim to, along with the crag on its left. After she spent a moment or two steadying her breath, she sighed deeply, then tilted her head to let the water flow from her ears.
All that panic had been for nothing. All the effort she'd made to break that tree down was wasted. One careful footfall after another, she waded through the flowing waters toward her target, then eventually beached herself and her dripping wet gear on the bank. Face first in the sandy dirt, she breathed deeply and relaxed her spent limbs. The ache in her head gradually eased, but it would not clear completely. Not until she found something to eat and replenish wasted energy. Was it wasted, though? No. When her reason returned, she recalled that she'd tried to cross the river to find Pacheco. At once, her arms extended, lifting the giant to all fours. There, she looked about the bank, quickly scanning for Pacheco's hoof prints. As her head looked to the crag, she saw the impressions. Frantic, she crawled over to inspect the grooves.
They were ash she hoped; hoof prints walking in an orderly fashion up the slope. Pacheco had been walking, and there was no sign of the blood trail just yet. Had his wound coagulated in the river? Or was it that the water had diluted the blood and left a mark too faint for her eyes? She was unsure. All she knew now was that Pacheco lived and that she had a trail to follow. A few moments of rest was all the time she took before she pushed to her shaky limbs, then followed the impressions of Pacheco's prints up the slope. She was going to find him.
Something didn't feel right. it wasn't the stinging pain in her hands while she cleaned her cuts of all the gunk she'd gathered, no. It was as though she were staring down something obvious. She pulled her hands from the river's clear water to inspect them. There she found that the red of her skin had faded some, and the bleeding had stopped completely, likely due to the cold of the water. A brief smile crossed her lips, not to last. Not while thinking of the terror that Pacheco faced. Just earlier that morning, she'd discovered that her companion had broken his lead while bleeding, then walked calmly to the river bank before either crossing or being swept away by the flow. Due to how still the waters looked now, however, the latter wasn't all that likely.
So, to cross the river and inspect the opposite bank for more hoof prints, she'd knocked down a small tree with the intent of using it as a floating aid of sorts. Now was the time to cross. She'd refilled her waterskin and gathered her scattered belongings, bag included. With a deep bend of her knees, she collected her fallen tree with both hands, then pressed into her heels to lift the lumber with her legs and straightened back, which forced a huff of air from her lungs. A curl of her thick arms lifted the log to her chest with a distinct pull on her biceps. There, she could comfortably cradle the weight of the trunk. Turning was a little awkward with one end being heavier than the other, but she managed fine.
After taking a moment to adjust to the weight of the log, she lifted her left leg and moved forward. The cool of the flowing water climbed halfway up her shins as she proceeded carefully, doing her best not to slip on one fo the smooth riverbed rocks. Soon, the water had climbed up to her hips, and the log in her arms had grown much heavier. It was as though the wooden body of the bar in her arms wished to be united with the water, so, she eased the log downward and let the water take its weight. It floated, of course, and pushing down on it didn't immediately submerge it; it would make an excellent floating aid, just as she'd hoped.
The water continued to climb higher as she proceeded with her hands on the log, A gentle push kept the trunk in front of her as she waded deeper. When the surface of the water was up to her chest, she paused and took a moment to breathe. The pressure on her body was significant, and the flow of the water felt far stronger than it originally seemed. She had to brace against the current and squeeze a firm grip on the log to keep it in place as the water rushed by, which posed a thought: would she be able to swim against the current and make it to the other side? She'd not swam before, but how hard could it be? If the waters tried to contest her, she'd push back. Simple.
She drew one more deep breath, then pushed the log forward in a full extension of her arms before leaning toward it. Then, with an extension of her legs, she kicked off the river bed and leaned her weight to the log, expecting it to catch her weight. It didn't. At once, the log was submerged, and her head followed shortly after. Her silver eyes opened wide beneath the water as panic set in, though she held her breath fine for the time being. What did she do from there? Almost instinctually, she began to kick her legs, pushing her body forward. The riverbed grew further away and the pressure around her head eased before she broke the surface of the water and took a deep breath.
That was it; she was swimming! Not for long, however. As her head broke the surface, the tree sank again, and she was soon to follow. Her eyes were a blur, caught blinking rapidly in vain as her wet hair blotted her vision. It clung to her face like wet tree sap, only it shifted beneath the surface to allow her to stare at the river's floor. Her heart began to beat faster, and her paddling quickened. It was impossible to tell where she was, or if she was close at all, but she couldn't seem to come up without sinking further. With her head down, she was sort of streamline with the water. Or was she? The Jastai was unsure. So, to check, she turned her head a little, and her lips soaked in the warm morning air. At once, she exhaled and drew a quick breath. She didn't sink. The log was held out in front of her and her legs kicked wildly behind her, but she was afloat. A brief laugh escaped her lips at the realization, though she still couldn't see.
A sharp inhale filled her lungs once more before she turned her head to face the riverbed beneath the surface. That was when her heart sank; it wasn't ascending. The riverbed was at the same depth as it was before. Was it deeper? She couldn't tell This meant that she wasn't even halfway yet, surely. Either way, her legs were beginning to burn, and the need to turn to breathe became necessary more and more frequently. A mixture of her inability to see, the water that clogged her ears and nose alike, and the weight of her sopping wet animal hides all made the movements difficult, but she had to keep going. If she stopped, she'd drown. The fear of sinking kept her legs paddling despite her exhaustion; as though it were the only thing keeping her above the water.
The half giant's will to live was strong, but it couldn't overcome the fatigue in her legs. Her limbs were stiff, heavy even as if they were made of led. Try as she might move them, it was all in vain. She gave a couple more weak kicks before the buoyancy of her body failed, and she began to sink. Her immediate reaction was to put all her weight into her float and lift her head in a desperate last-ditch effort to stay above the water, but that only sank her fully beneath the surface with a final hard gasp. She couldn't breathe. The river was pushing her further down the stream while she clung to her nigh useless floating aid. Desperate, she threw her head up to break the surface of the water, but only managed a brief exhale that filled her palette with the taste of river water.
In a split-second decision, she released the log and began to claw at the water frantically with both hands, as if she'd planned to climb out of the depths of the river. It worked to some extent, but she couldn't keep afloat. Parting her lips, she spat the water from her mouth and drew another hard breath before screaming her plea for help. Someone had to be close by, someone who could swim, preferably. Just a second later, however, she sank again, falling under the current.
Her lungs hurt almost as much as her head, and the urge to breathe threatened to part her lips for her. Perhaps someone had heard her cries? In a split second, she managed to convince herself that she wouldn't die here, that someone would come to her rescue and pull her from the water. Then, in another, she gave up that hope while realizing that if anyone had heard her, they'd be too late. She was going to drown here unless she acted.
She could no longer climb the water when her arms grew as tired as her legs, but she'd managed to rest her legs some in her struggles. A hard kick saw her foot impact something hard, and she nearly cried out in pain if not for the fact that she was submerged. Desperate, she searched for it with her other foot, feeling blindly through the water before pressing the sole of her boot to its surface. It was wide, large enough to stand on, even. Desperate, she planted both her feet on it and kicked hard of its surface, which allowed her to break the surface of the water and steal a quick breath of air before gravity reclaimed her. By reflex alone, her legs remained fully extended in an unconscious effort to keep herself above the water, but she met with the flat surface again before she could even sink below her shoulders.
The giantess paused in thought before she brushed her hair out of her eyes, and looked about her surroundings. It took some rubbing, but her vision cleared to behold the morning sun as it reflected from the water. She was in the middle of the river, surrounded on both sides by water. This was the deepest part, and she could touch the bottom by standing... Confused and disoriented, she scanned her surroundings further, then spotted the riverbank she'd aimed to swim to, along with the crag on its left. After she spent a moment or two steadying her breath, she sighed deeply, then tilted her head to let the water flow from her ears.
All that panic had been for nothing. All the effort she'd made to break that tree down was wasted. One careful footfall after another, she waded through the flowing waters toward her target, then eventually beached herself and her dripping wet gear on the bank. Face first in the sandy dirt, she breathed deeply and relaxed her spent limbs. The ache in her head gradually eased, but it would not clear completely. Not until she found something to eat and replenish wasted energy. Was it wasted, though? No. When her reason returned, she recalled that she'd tried to cross the river to find Pacheco. At once, her arms extended, lifting the giant to all fours. There, she looked about the bank, quickly scanning for Pacheco's hoof prints. As her head looked to the crag, she saw the impressions. Frantic, she crawled over to inspect the grooves.
They were ash she hoped; hoof prints walking in an orderly fashion up the slope. Pacheco had been walking, and there was no sign of the blood trail just yet. Had his wound coagulated in the river? Or was it that the water had diluted the blood and left a mark too faint for her eyes? She was unsure. All she knew now was that Pacheco lived and that she had a trail to follow. A few moments of rest was all the time she took before she pushed to her shaky limbs, then followed the impressions of Pacheco's prints up the slope. She was going to find him.
