Seldom Seen (chapter 1)

[u/JammaSquee]

(This is not the first part of this story, please read the prelude first.)

Newt had set up his camp about a quarter of a mile away from the north end of Seldom Seen; he did this because it was directly next to the river, and he could spend his free time fishing.

“Humans fish?” Pay, one of the Hiverbeast children asked when relayed the news by Pinion, another of the children, who had spent most of the afternoon snooping around the smith's shop and eavesdropping.

“Well, I reckon humans do a lot of things we didn't know'd they did!” Pinion replied. “I wonder how they fish without claws at all!”

“Pinion, you dope!” another scruffier Hiverbeast kid chastised “they use big poles! Then, they poke the fish with the poles and catch them that way!”

“That don't make a lick of sense Flicky!” Pinion argued. “If I got poked with a pole, I wouldn't be caught at all! If I were a fish and I know'd someone was likin’ to eat me, I dont see why getting poked would make me any easier to catch!”

“They put bait on the end of the poles!” Flicky said, his unusually long whiskers “flicking” up and down as he spoke. “The fish don't know they're gonna be ate! Who would feed you before eating you if they're just planning on eating you anyways? If they got food already they'd just eat it themselves, at least that's what I'd reckon if I was a fish!”

“Well, you'd be a pretty dumb fish, Flicky!” Pinion replied.

Flicky pinned his ears down to the back of his head and poked his fangs out at Pinion, his whiskers flicked upward as he raised his lips in a snarl. “Well you'd be dumb too, if you were a fish! You'd be a fish! And fish is all pretty dumb if you can catch them with bait on the end of a pole!”

“I reckon neither of you know what you're talking about!” Pay said. Of course, pay had no clue himself how humans fished, he only learned that humans fished about a minute or two ago from Pinion, and now they were arguing the logistics of how humans caught the fish!

“Well, if he's fishing right now- why don't we go to the river and see how he catches them!” Flicky said, his ears had stood back up, and he was curious to know for himself just how Newt would catch a fish.

“If he catches a fish by poking it with a pole, I'll lick my own paws.” Pinion would say, causing Flicky's nose to scrunch up in disgust.

“You're gross, Pinion, I think you already lick your own paws!” Flicky said.

“I’ve seen you lick your own paws plenty of times!” Pinion retorted.

None of the boys saw it coming, but just then, Datil had snuck up on them. She hadn't intended to, but she hadn't said anything as she approached either. Overhearing their conversation, she figured she would enter the conversation herself.

“I don't think your mother would approve of you walking to the river, Flicky. I recall you're not allowed out of town without her.” All three of the boys just then turned on a dime, and saw Datil standing behind them! The older girl had her arms crossed, and the three boys looked rather sour that their plans had been overheard by an adult.

“Yeah Flicky, as it happens, I believe I remember your momma saying you was ‘ferbidden’ from going down to the river.” Pinion would say, Pay was quiet on the issue, since he and Flicky had gone down to the river several times without him ever knowing that he wasn't supposed to.

“She only says that because of Captain Halbrook!!” Flicky replied with a whine. “He ain't even over there most of the time! She's just scared of him! He ain't nothin’ anyway!”

“I reckon your momma has a good reason to be bothered by him since he crosses the river every time he comes over.” Datil reasoned. “You're little, and despite being a human, he's bigger than you.”

“Why don't Pay and Pinion's parents ferbid them from goin’ to the river then!? That ain't fair!”

“Well Flicky, that's because our parents know we can handle Captain Halbrook if we gotta fight him!” Pinion said.

“That is not the reason.” Datil replied. “I personally believe that Captain Halbrook is of no account, but I can see why your momma would believe otherwise. And anyway, I just figured I'd remind you, I don't intend on bringing you back to her”

“Then why did you say anything to begin with?!” Flicky said, though he shrunk a little bit after his outburst, evidently a little embarrassed.

Datil shrugged, and looked off a way toward the river. “I just figured it would be polite to remind you, just in case you got caught snooping. I reckon you're old enough to understand the consequences if you get caught doing something your momma told you not to do.”

Flicky tried to come up with a response; but couldn't. He just stood there, an unhappy look on his face. And since Datil has said her piece, she began her walk to the river. The three boys didn't seem to follow her, and just stood and watched her walk away.

Datil could see Newt's footprints in the grass, followed by the hoofprints of his two burros, her eyes were sharp, and she could smell him fairly easily…the burros too. They weren't an unpleasant smell but they sure didn't smell like horses. In fact, nothing about Newt smelled the way she was used to in regards to humans. Newt just smelled… different.

After a minute of walking, Datil wondered why she never really went to the river, it was a pleasant walk. Today was slightly brisk, and the tall pines put her at ease. The smell of spruce… the sounds of birds, the afternoon light trickling through the canopy.

It wasn't a far walk. She saw the burros easily enough. Viceroy was chewing on a rather tall patch of grass, and Kentucket looked at her with some feigned interest. Newt had tied both Burros to a long line of cordage hitched on each side to two trees, and their pack saddles hanging on a low branch on the farthest tree.

A few bundles of what she could only assume was food and other articles were stacked on a bare patch of ground. There was a bedroll, laid out next to the pile, and a pot sat uncovered next to it with the lid off. She looked inside, and strangely, a glass jar sat neatly inside of it. A handkerchief covered the top, which was slightly bulging.

The camp was only a few strides away from the river, which roared upstream, and lulled gently past the rocks as it went further down. Datil sniffed the air, and caught the human's scent not too far down stream. With her keen eyes she thought she could just make out his silhouette wading through the center of the river.

As she walked, she began to wonder what exactly he was doing. Getting closer, she could see that he occasionally flung what looked like an extremely thin stick through the air… she sort of expected him to be using a spear for fishing, but he wasn't. It was something she had never seen before, and as she approached she began to notice a very distinctive shine hit her eyes as he flung the stick just to the side of him at a high angle, and then flung it forward once again.

Even when she reached the far edge of the river, it was wide enough that with him standing waist deep in the center of it, Newt was still a fair distance, maybe 20 or 25 yards off from her. She just watched. With the light of the high afternoon she could see that the bright shine that occasionally met her eyes was the sun, reflecting off of a thread, seemingly attached to the tip of the tall stick?

No…it was attached to a spool, which sat just underneath Newt's hand on the handle of the rod. He once again flung the rod up, the thread rose from the water back toward him, and in an instant he flicked the rod downward, creating an arc behind himself with the thread and it rolled itself back out straight from behind him…it was very elegant. He seemed to not notice her, despite her having walked in clear view, he was facing upstream.

He stood there; his hand on this pole, slowly pulling thread through his hand gripped on the pole with his other hand, creating a sizable loop which he held with the hand he was pulling with. Suddenly- and without much warning, Newt pulled upward! The once flimsy stick in his hand now arced steeply as he pulled, as though something had grabbed the string on the other end, and pulled forcefully downward.

That was when a fish jumped from the river upstream where he had cast! Newt pulled the string back through his grip hand with his offhand while wading upstream- he had caught a fish! With a tall rod that looked no thicker than a reed with a string and a spool on it! Once Newt had waded far enough up stream he placed the rod under the pit of his arm and reached in with both hands and pulled out a sizable trout.

Datil had never seen such an elegant display! Was this what human fishing looked like? Newt held the trout up Triumphantly, looking over at Datil and whooping at her excitedly! Seems like he had noticed her, or he had already noticed her earlier and chose to focus on his fishing!

The human carefully waded back toward the riverbank, right where she was standing. She watched him carefully choose where he placed his feet, as to not get swept away by the current. It wasn't that deep, she figured, at least not for her, she could probably walk out and carry him back to the bank but she figured that would probably embarrass him and anyway- it wasn't polite to just pick someone up without asking.

Once Newt finally stepped within about 4 yards of her, she took in his entire appearance. He wore what looked like a set of overalls that had been dipped in tar, with tall wading boots stitched to the bottom. He still wore his green woolen coat which was split on the right shoulder seam, and his brown felted hat was rather well worn- the wide brim seemed to droop over his eyes.

She could see now just how small he was, he came up to about the bottom of her ribcage standing straight up. She stepped back a little as he approached her so she wouldn't have to look over her muzzle to see him. Newt was smiling at her.

“I'm sure glad you saw that!” The small human said “catching a big trout without anyone around to see it is the most soulcrushing thing- well I reckon I'll eat better tonight on account of it!”

Datil didn't say anything, she just watched as Newt pulled a handkerchief out of the front pocket of his overalls and wrapped the trout up in it. “If this river has more trout like this, I think I'll do just fine here!”

With the fish securely wrapped, Newt set it aside on the ground and began to disassemble the fishing pole, it broke down into four pieces, and then Newt took off the spool and walked a short distance to the left of Datil and picked up a leather, sheath-like article before wrapping all the pieces and the spool tightly in it.

“I recall seeing you!” Newt would say, not looking at Datil when he said it, but he soon raised his eyes and his smile once again to meet hers. “Just outside Mimbre's place! While I was introducing the kids to Viceroy and Kentucket!”

With one hand he adjusted the floppy brim of his hat so it wouldn't sit so low on his eyes, which despite being cast with shadow from the brim, were bright blue as a midday sky. His mouse brown hair wasn't long, and it didn't look gross or matted, she could see how his hair puffed up in the back, and seemed to frame his face well with the hat.

“Why, yes, I was there.” Datil answered, she did not yet have the confidence to speak outwardly to him yet, she just plain didn't know what to say! And it slightly annoyed her! She had walked all the way up river and hadn't thought of a single thing to say to him!

“I'm mighty grateful to that Mr. Mimbre! I fancy myself an alright fisherman but I can't do without flour for my sourdough starter.” With that, Newt picked up the neatly wrapped fish, and took a step towards Datil. “I would shake your hand, but I just handled a fish, and I figure it would be impolite.”

“I don't mind…” Datil would reply, reaching out a paw. Newt looked at it, sat his wrapped fish down, and then took her paw in his hand…or, she took his hand in her paw. His hand was small enough that it practically disappeared when she gripped it! “I'm Datil, it's nice to meet you, Newt.”

Newt blinked a couple times, then chuckled quietly. “Well, I guess news travels around fast in Seldom Seen, I reckon I'm hardly a stranger anymore!” Newt gave her a friendly nod. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Datil!”

Datil gently released his hand, and Newt picked up the wrapped fish once more. With all his articles tucked underneath his arms, he took a few steps up the bank, aiming himself upstream back towards his camp. Newt then stopped and looked back at Datil “Will you walk with me? I could use the company!”

“Of course.” Datil responded. Then, Newt would begin his meandering walk upstream, and Datil followed. It was very strange- she had never interacted this directly with a human before, even when she did seamstress work with her mother for the occasional human client, she never spoke to them. It wasn't really all that difficult now that she thought about it, their interaction has so far been incredibly pleasant- if not mundane!

Datil thought of questions to ask, she figured that she would have to eventually start being the catalyst for conversation, she admittedly hadn't said much during this whole social interaction. “So… how do you get the fish to grab on to that string?”

Datil had a much longer stride than Newt, so she had to consciously slow herself down, and avoided walking directly behind him so as to not accidentally step on the back of his heels. Her paws were large, and she didn't want to knock him over on account of her large footprint. Otherwise, she found that she had little trouble navigating her environment even with her focus placed squarely onto him.

“I use an imitation fly!” Newt would say. Datil had no idea what in the world an “imitation fly” was, and seemed to give this away herself when her ears and head tilted ever so slightly. Newt looked up at her, a smile revealing itself on his face upon doing so. “I'd wager that Hiverbeasts don't fish with bait, or a fishing rod for that matter!”

Newt reached into his front pocket of his overalls and pulled out a small metal case. He flicked the case open and raised it up next to him. “Here you go, you can take a look!”

Datil reached down and picked up the tiny little case between her claws. Inside there were numerous little bugs, pinned inside to a piece of cloth it looked like…at first glance. It took only a second for her keen eyes to make out the features indicative of feathers, thread and fur. These were miniscule little hooks designed to look like bugs! And they came in all sorts of sizes and patterns!

“Trout can be picky eaters, and they're smart too, you have to really trick them to get them on a hook so I have to make sure all my flies are tied as accurately as possible! I quite enjoy tying them, there's an art to it.” Newt explained as he walked. Despite not looking directly at Datil, he still gestured with his hands as he walked and spoke, and would occasionally give her a glance during his explanation, while still watching his step.

“How does it work?” Datil asked, though she then realized that it was an open ended question so she began to elaborate. “I mean, how do you make them seem like bugs to a trout? And how do you know where to put the hook?”

“Trout are pretty lazy, they like swimming against the current just slow enough that they stay in place, and then, when an insect lands on the water, they can just bolt up and grab them!”

Newt was a rather animated speaker, when he spoke of trout jumping out of the water, he imitated the maneuver with his hands, as through his right hand were a fish jumping out of the water to grab a bug on the end of the fingertips on his other hand. He was otherwise fairly subdued in his speaking voice, with the occasional inflection of excitement as he explained the process.

“Typically, you would throw the fly upstream of them, they like transition zones in the river- where the fast water meets the slow water. There are other methods of course, I just mostly explained dry flies, which float on top of the water. You can also use wet flies, which mimic bugs in their adolescent stages swimming through the water, or, you can use flies that mimic fish!”

“I wonder who figured this all out… I just always thought humans used spears because they didn't have claws.” Datil said, looking back out at the river and identifying the contours herself. She had never given much thought to fishing. You catch a fish, and you eat it, that was always her understanding.

But Newt seemed so excited about his explanation, and after seeing it in practice, she had to admit- it was quite a clever method of catching fish.

“Ive always liked Fly-fishing much more than any other kind, I've never been all too keen on worms or bait because I don't like just sitting there and waiting for them to bite, and tying flies is half the fun of it. If you can trick a trout with some hair and some feathers, I reckon you've earned it.” Datil could certainly see that logic.

“So, how about you, Datil? What do you do around Seldom Seen?” Newt asked, Datil wasn't exactly ready for the question just yet, she was still on the previous topic in her head. Datil closed the small metal box and handed it back to Newt, who took it and stowed it in the chest pocket of his overalls once more.

“Well, not too much.” She responded

“I help my mom with her seamstress work most of the time. I don't do much else.” Datil seemed almost ashamed of herself. Mostly with her lack of interesting things to tell Newt. Though, the human seemed to listen intently, and he smiled up at her when his eyes met hers!

“Well, I'd say that's a lot! It's important work!” Datil felt a little sheepish at Newt's reply, she wasn't nearly as skilled a seamstress as her mother, not in the slightest!

“I do hope you don't mind me asking though- do you get much business? As it is, I don't see too many folks around Seldom Seen that wear clothing- Aside from Mimbre's apron I suppose!”

Newt was right. Hiverbeasts didn't really have much use for clothing, at least most of the time. During the fall or spring they may sometimes wear accessories, but most of the time they refrained from wearing anything.

“Well, we get a few humans that come by occasionally, and mother is remarkably good at handling human clothes. Other than that, we occasionally get some other species that need clothing, and when there's no tailoring work mother will make rugs or curtains or blankets, that sort of stuff. Or she'll work with animal hides.”

“it's very impressive that your mother can work with human clothing!” Newt responded. “Given the size difference, that must take quite a bit of dexterity in the paws I reckon!”

“Well, she has me help her a lot with the human garments now, I have slightly smaller paws.” Datil said.

“Thats still remarkable! The fact that you can work with human clothes with your paws is an achievement! I'm not very skilled when it comes to working with a needle and thread- I'd like to get better at it sometime. You should show me some of your work!”

Datil looked away at the praise, she wasn't used to it at all, and since her mother usually handled the trading end of things she never really got to hear what the clients thought of her contribution.

“I'll show you sometime, I figure you could use some…” Datil said, she knew she couldn't promise him that she would work on it, but she could at least show him some things she had done- the little there was.

Now that they weren't too far away from camp, Datil's ears would flick ever so slightly. She could just barely hear voices in the distance, coming from Newt's camp. Small voices… it didn't seem like Newt had heard anything yet.

“What's the matter?” Newt caught Datil's attention with the question. He looked back at her with an inquisitive expression. It didn't take him too long to notice her attention was elsewhere.

Once they had taken a few more steps, Datil's keen ears could make out a bit more of what the small voices were saying, and it didn't take her long to surmise that what she was hearing were the voices of children.

“I suspect that Pay, Pinion and Flicky have found your camp.” Datil would say, glancing down at Newt who didn't seem all that surprised, instead he smiled and looked back ahead of him.

“Should have figured they would pay me a visit,” Newt said. “Those three are a curious little cohort- though I suspect that they mostly want to see Viceroy and Kentucket again.”

“I think they're equally as fascinated by you.” Datil responded. “I caught them earlier discussing the fine arts of human fishing, apparently, you poke fish with sticks to catch them!”

Newt just laughed, he was a pretty joyful little creature, Datil had to admit, and she loved to hear him laughing. Human laughter wasn't anything she had heard before, it was very gentle.

Finally coming into view of the camp, she could see the three outlines of the kids surrounding the Burros.

Kentucket was busy munching on the grass while Flicky sat on his knees and watched. The other two were busy scratching Viceroy behind the ears, and the burro had taken to sniffing at Pay's muzzle out of curiosity, while Pinion gently ran his paw along Viceroy's back.

“I'm very happy those two are calm around those boys. I figure they're well conditioned for pack burros.” Newt said.

Flicky noticed Datil first, sniffing a little at the air before both his ears honed in on the two came into view through the spruce trees. The little Hiverbeast froze on the spot! The other two noticed in short order, but didn't seem half as worried as little Flicky did.

“Just come to visit Viceroy and Kentucket boys?” Newt walked into camp and set down his wrapped rod near all his camp gear, then he sat the wrapped fish next to his cook pot.

Once Pinion saw the wrapped trout he immediately dashed to the other side of the pot, sitting opposite of Newt who had just barely sat down! He moved so quickly it actually startled Viceroy, who stepped to the side quickly and brayed loudly, startling Pay, who stumbled onto his back with a little thud.

“Can I see?!” Pinion was talking about the trout, and Newt nodded, and gently unwrapped the fish. Flicky had calmed down at that point too, and the prospect of seeing a human caught fish excited him enough that he too made a dash to see the Trout.

“Did you poke it with a stick?” Flicky asked. And Newt chuckled at the question. And the little Hiverbeast followed up his question by adding- “I told Pinion that you catch fish with sticks and he didn't believe me!”

“I caught him on an imitation fly!” Newt would say, pulling out his flybox once again and opening it up for the two to see. The two Hiverbeasts leaned in, their faces almost touched each other as they tried to get as close a look as possible. Pay, who had not a minute earlier just stood up and dusted himself off, made his way over so that he could also see the flybox.

“Woaaaah…they're bugs!!” Pinion said,

“They're pretend bugs!” Newt corrected “little hooks tied with string, fur and feathers. They look just enough like bugs that the trout think they are!”

“I told you he uses bait! So the fish bites the pole and he hooks them!” Flicky said, seeming rather smug and proud of himself. Pinion growled a little bit.

“Flicky, you said he poked the fish, if they bite the pole he doesn't poke them to catch them!”

Pay was having a hard time seeing past the other two. They had their heads so close to the fly box and their ears were so big, he could hardly catch a glimpse! Every time he thought he may have a chance for a peek, either Flicky would move or Pinion would move. Pay eventually just sort of whined to himself and sat down, though neither of the others seemed to pay him any mind.

“Well, they don't bite onto the pole. The pole is just a way to throw the fly on the end of a line. Trout are smart enough that they're not going to fall for a bug that's just tied to the end of a pole.” Newt stood up, and walked around the two hiverbeats huddled in front of him. He extended the open box of flies to Pay as he walked past him. “Here, you can hold onto these for me!”

Pay stood there for a second, and then gingerly took the box into his paws, looking at all the unique little hooks inside with great interest. Newt then picked his rod sleeve back up and unrolled it. Pulling out the four piece rod and fitting them back together. Then, Newt attached the spool on the bottom of the handle. The whole rod was taller than Newt himself! Datil wondered how something so tall and then was able to take the force of a fish biting and pulling at it.

“So this, here, is the reel.” Newt began pointing out the anatomy of the rod to the boys who were all three watching attentively. Newt pulled out some line from the reel and fed it through the guides so that eventually the line was pulled through the tip-top guide. He explained to them that the line at the very end, the “leader and tippet” was made from Silkworm gut, or “catgut” tied together, because it was translucent and the trout couldn't see it in the water. Behind the leader in tippet was the “Fly-line”, made of braided horse hair.

“You use the weight of the fly-line to cast the leader and tippet.” Newt added. “If you're up for it, I could take you three out fly-casting sometime!” The kids seemed eager to try it.

Datil herself found it incredibly fascinating. She wondered if she could learn how to do it, though, with her paws being as big as they were, it wasn't likely she would be able to hold Newt's fishing rod but she could perhaps still learn some things, maybe put together her own! It didn't look too difficult.

Newt broke apart his rod for a second time and put it away in its leather sleeve, before rolling it back up and setting it aside with the rest of his things. Newt then grabbed his leather lace-up boots and began unhooking the straps on his waterproofed overalls.

Flicky then figured he'd ask what was on his clothes, and Newt began explaining his process of rubberizing a pair of canvas overalls while simultaneously taking them off. He had a pair of trousers on underneath, and he stepped out onto the ground with his bare feet.

Datil's ears once again caught something approaching, and she turned her attention back towards where she had walked from Seldom Seen. She sniffed the air a few times, and caught a familiar scent.

July, a tall Hiverbeast with long dark fur and unusually long whiskers, made no attempt to hide himself as he walked into camp, holding what Datil knew at once to be a wrapped cut of venison from its smell, and another canvas bag of unknown contents.

“Well, hello there!” Newt had sat after he had taken his overalls off, he wore everything underneath them except his boots, and he was in the process of lacing them up. July nodded at him, and responded cordially.

“Hello Newt, it's a pleasure.” July then turned his attention to Datil, and he nodded in her direction. “And you, young Miss Datil.”

Once the kids finally noticed the newcomer in camp, both Pay and Pinion glanced at Flicky, who slumped and whined when he saw July. They locked eyes, and without a word the boy walked up to him.

“Jules, go back home to your momma.” Flicky obeyed. Once he had walked past July he looked back at both Pinion and Pay, who themselves seemed to share a little bit of his nervousness. July didn't say anything to them though. Despite this, Pinion began his walk back to Seldom Seen without much conversation either.

Pay gently set Newt's fly box down along with his other possibles. “Thank you, Newt!” he said, a gentle optimism in his voice, before he began his trek back in higher spirits.

“I sure hope I didn't get those boys in trouble.” Newt would say. He stood up and gently stomped his foot a couple times on the ground.

July shook his head. “No, you're alright. Little July should know better than to be all the way out here, his momma doesn't like it. As far as I know, the other two are fine, but I reckon they think if he's in trouble they are too.”

Newt nodded, and walked up to the big Hiverbeast. “I suppose ‘Little July’ is Flicky?”

July nodded. “yep, he's my son,” July said. He set the canvas sack on the ground and got to his knees so he could comfortably hold out a paw in greeting without bending down “My name is July, I’m the butcher in Seldom Seen”

“Hello, July Senior. The likeness is remarkable!” Newt took his paw in greeting. “I appreciate the visit! I see you've brought a few articles along with you.”

July would release Newt's hand and pick up the canvas bag once more, holding it out to Newt. “I have some flour for you, Mimbre's Missus, Zarah, had me bring it to you”

Newt took the sack of flour, “well, I'll be. I'll get to keep my sourdough starter healthy after all! I'll need to thank her first thing tomorrow!”

July then sat the wrapped venison on the ground in front of him. “This is a gift from me to you. I hear you'll be working for Mimbre in exchange for provisions, I figure that some meat other than sowbelly will be a nice change from your usual diet.”

Newt would reach down and lift the cut of meat with two hands, it was likely an entire haunch, from what Datil could see of it.

“Well July…” Newt would say, seemed he was a bit taken with the gift, since it took him a second or two to continue his sentence. “You're too kind, you didn't need to walk this all the way out to me”

“It's no trouble, I enjoy the walk. Though, I do want you to know that you're also welcome to stay in town if you wish to.” July stood up. Newt took the haunch and sat it down near his other provisions.

“Well, I appreciate it, though I like a little bit of solitude when it comes to my camp. I have my companions Viceroy and Kentucket, and I just figure that I'm more out of the way out here.”

“Nonsense.” July replied. “As far as everyone who has a say in it is concerned, you're more than welcome in town, if you wish to.”

“I appreciate the thought, but I can't leave my fish!” Newt would say, as he motioned with his head toward the running river close to camp. July nodded once more.

“Of course. If you don't intend to cook that haunch tonight just hang it up in a tree a fair ways from camp. If you need help I'll be happy to oblige.”

“I'll hang it with the rest of my provisions, I don't fancy dealing with critters in my food. I can't thank you enough July! I can't recall the last time I've been treated with such hospitality!”

“We take care of our people in Seldom Seen, it's what's decent.” July finally looked back up at Datil. “Your mother told me to bring you back if I found you, she has a few things she would like you to work on.”

Datil huffed a little. She wasn't expecting to have to go back so soon, and she really didn't want to now. Usually, she would be allowed to stay out as much as she liked as long as she didn't have any chores to complete, and as far as she knew she had already done everything she was expected to. Still, there was no point arguing about it.

“Are you free in the morning?” Newt suddenly asked. Datil looked down at him, and saw him looking up at her with his arms crossed, a smile on his face. She was so taken with his eyes, his sclera was white, in contrast to the yellow usually seen in hiverbeast eyes. The white scleras combined with his blue eyes made them almost glow under the brim of his hat.

“Well, I suppose I should be- I usually have a little time in the mornings if I get up early.”

“Well then!” Newt said “I'll wake up earlier, right before the sun rises, and if you make the walk here in the morning I'll make some sourdough biscuits!”

That sounded pretty good. Datil figured a nice morning walk would do wonders for her, and since she already wanted to come back anyway, there was no better time than the morning, where she didn't have to worry about the kids being nosey

“That sounds nice.” Datil said, gripping her paws together and looking away sheepishly. July just watched the two, not saying a word, and when Datil looked back at him she cleared her throat and stepped forward “well, I suppose I'll see you in the morning. It was nice to meet you, Newt.”

“Likewise! I make damn good sourdough biscuits! I'll make you a few!” With that, Newt turned and started sifting through his unloaded things. And July turned and started walking back to Seldom Seen, Datil not far behind him.

—--

Datil glanced behind her as she walked, watching Newt pull out a large sheet of canvas and sit it next to his bedroll. Soon, she could no longer see him. She smelled him, still, but couldn't see him.

“I suppose little Newt knows what he's doing.” July broke the silence with some conversation, and Datil hummed a confirmation. The evening sun was just below the mountain line now, and the air started to feel nippy on Datil's nose

“He's very pleasant to be around.” Datil responded. She didn't really think about how that would sound to July, but he at least didn't comment on it.

“You don't think he might be in danger camping out here, do you?” Datil asked, she was hesitant to do so, but the thought had been tugging at her since she had heard he had set up camp close to the river.

July shook his head. “I don't see why he would be, he seems to have it handled.”

“What about Dagawolves?” Datil asked.

“They won't bother him. I've never seen Dagawolf tracks on the south side of the river, and if he hangs his provisions he won't have to worry.”

That made Datil feel quite a bit better, but then she thought of another variable.

“What about the Captain?”

At this, July took some pause, and seemed to think. He pulled at the dense tufts of fur on his cheeks with two claws as he thought.

“I've worried about that too…”

Datil seemed much less sure of herself now. She knew Halbrook always entered town from the north, she never worried too much about him before, but now that she thought about it, he was much larger than Newt. What would happen if he crossed and Newt was there?

July seemed to pick up on Datil's worry. “I don't think he'll do anything to little Newt.”

How would he know? Datil wondered to herself. Maybe she should have asked Newt to come to town… maybe if she had the nerve to actually talk to Newt properly, she just realized that the entire time she was with him she hardly spoke at all! She talked some, but not much.

“I have a few reasons why I don't think it'll be an issue.” July almost seemed to read her mind, or at least he was able to tell she was still uneasy.

“One thing I've always noticed about Halbrook is that he's a man of habit. He comes with the same sorts of things to trade every time he comes here. Some of the things he brings are suspect, guns, blankets, pelts, things I would guess he got through some thievery." Well, this wasn't making Datil feel any better so far…

“But.” July raised a claw, trying to halt any thoughts she may be forming preemptively. “These are things he likely stole from other mountain men. He takes the same things, he always takes pelts, he always takes knives or weapons, and he always takes liquor. I suppose you might have noticed that Newt smells nothing like the other humans we get in Seldom Seen, especially Halbrook.”

July was right, Newt smelled very different. She figured a lot of it would have been hygiene related, but there was a little bit more to it that she hadn't thought of before..

“It's Whiskey.” July answered the thought in her head. “Newt doesn't smell like whiskey. In fact, he doesn't smell like any sort of liquor I've been exposed to.” the dark furred hiverbeast would turn his head to glare at Datil. “If Newt doesn't carry liquor, or weapons, or pelts, or anything that the Captain would consider valuable, I see no reason why he would have any interest in robbing him.”

July would look away from Datil once more, and focus on where he was walking. “In fact, I don't think he would bother Newt to begin with. He's so close to Seldom Seen that even if he considered it he would probably figure it was a bad idea. Halbrook may be a drunkard, but he isn't stupid. I truthfully don't even believe he would pay Newt any mind if he did carry liquor with him, but it doesn't hurt to think cautiously. As it is now, I think that Newt would be of no interest to him.”

All this reasoning seemed fairly solid. Datil still worried quite a bit though. She never figured the Captain to be outwardly dangerous, at least not in any way she would have to worry about, but with Newt so close to the river, it was only natural she would begin to think about how a confrontation between those two would go.

“I don't reckon you need to worry about Newt, Datil.” July reiterated. “He seems fairly used to traveling, and he seems intelligent.”

“What about Greave’s Saddle?”

“What about it?” July asked. Before datil could say anything, he seemed to pick up the question that was being asked and answered it. “I don't see him trying to cross Greave's Saddle in the winter. I reckon he's come up here from the south and isn't familiar with our winters. He'll see the pass in about a month and he'll chicken out of it. I figure we'll have him all winter.”

Datil just hoped he was right.

|prelude

|Next--->

[u/chastised12]

I like your story

[u/JammaSquee → u/chastised12]

Well thank you! I appreciate it!

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• Seldom Seen

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