Queen of the Castaway Isle

Most people didn't realize just how much rest was a luxury. Even when forced.     

How nice was it to just...stay in.     

And why shouldn't it be? Who's to say that was not the purpose of the moment. All the moments cumulated. That comfortable stretch of dawn, sleeping in. The hit of a soft pillowy surface to your tired bones. A peace and a high, all at once.     

What of it?     

"Oh my holy shit! We did it!" a girl cried in joy.     

"Finally! Oh thank god, finally!" a boy not too much older sobbed along with her.     

The two clutched each other crying. In relief. In the too many hardships to be easily explained. Just...too many complicated emotions. Thiers showed in the weary backs, postures creaky and on and off tense. Scrunched-up faces, their voices, and motions expressed the feelings they had no words to say.     

They sobbed not in grief but the sweet release of some of those hard carried burdens. Nearly dancing in joy. The stuffy air breaking like dawn in their joy.     

Silently watching, a small boy covered in a blanket made the first move.     

He simply walked past the stupid siblings making a commotion. Then climbed up the small cold material to claim the top bunk of the bed. The steady plop of his small butt and tender skinny little legs hanging over more of a claim than any verbal declaration or agreement.     

"Hey no fair!" June pushed over Mattie at the drop, rushing to throw herself at the bottom bunk. Before that was gone too.     

"What?" the older boy didn't even get a chance to get his bearings straight back up.     

Sitting on the cold floor, he could only blink up at the very occupied beds.     

Exactly two.     

All gone.     

It wasn't much to look at really. A relatively bare bunk bed made with the standard naked wood. The kind you would find in any dorm. A basic but sturdy thing, made of modern mixed materials. Two twin beds on each level. From the different bedding, pillows, and touches of personal items to them, you could see they belonged to two distinct individuals.     

Nothing special. That is if you weren't stuck in the middle of nowhere and nothing.     

Sophie resisted a sigh as she popped another generic painkiller, watching the young people 'bond' by reacting to and fighting over the bunk bed.     

It was the greatest treasure to grace them thus far. Greatly increasing the comforts of their camp. She can't blame them. Not when they were living in a literal cave.     

It's one thing to live in a cave, treehouse or anything really, in theory. It's another to actually stay in one, day in and day out.     

The walls were a little stone-cold bare, you could say.     

Very limited comforts. Very limited....a lot of things.     

It was far below the minimum for what someone used to modern daily life would find acceptable. A hell lot better than whatever as going down below. But certainly still not as comfortable as most people could stand.     

As 'extravagant as they were, with Sophie's precognition and prep, it wasn't enough. Wasn't ever really going to be enough. Nothing could be done about that.     

People just sucked it up last time because there was no other say in the matter.     

So when today's rainy afternoon nap dreamt up that she was in her old college dorm, Sophie easily made her decision. It wasn't hard to pick out of all things to bring back there. The bunk bed that she and her previous roommate shared was pretty good.     

Was it a 5-star hotel's King sized sleeping cloud dream machine? No. But it was more than comfortable.     

She vaguely recalled her dorm roommate that year. Lost in the flow of time and priorities. They had however both agreed to invest some money to make their originally sparse dorm more humanely bearable. From the plush bedding to foam toppers, privacy curtains, and other mundane but useful accessories that young girls needed. Even some cute stuffed animals. Sophie also thinks her roommate spent a good 'bit' more than herself.     

Anyways now it was going to good use, even more so than between some students.     

"You're yelling to me about things being unfair? Get out, that thing isn't even cleaned yet!" Mattie hissed at his sister, smacking her with a pretty floral print pillow.     

"Sophie, Mattie is being mean and damaging your hard work again. Stop being loud Mattie, you're giving Sophie a headache. " June reported in all seriousness, blinking her eyes purposefully large. Like a small pathetic animal, only it didn't work on anyone here.     

No one bothered or kicked off the little boy on the top bunk.     

It was mutually understood between them that the child could be given a bit more priority. If not for his awkward attitude and grumpy silence towards them, then his pitiful appearance. Now that wasn't an act. Just facts.     

For the past few days, when Leon was seen, it was rooted on or around the sofa. The sofa where he presumably spent his nights. Definitely beats sleeping on a tree, rock or jungle floor.     

Sophie didn't pack or prepare an extra sleeping bag. There was little time or resources to anyways. People adapted when there was little else to do.     

"It's fine, settle between yourselves about clean up or where that even goes. Don't worry too much Mattie." Sophie said lazily, silently promising him in her own way to get something better when she got the chance.     

Then pointed to the miscellaneous items still left on the dorm beds that may or may not require clean up. Who needed to hire a housemaid with Mattie around? Perhaps that was the real reason she didn't knock him out and leave him back home.     

There ws blue buttoned jacket that was once Sophie's, hanging on the ladder. An armchair pillow on the top bunk that Leon had silently already taken to, like a small comfy throne. A far too large lacey bra, that certainly was not going to fit any one of them, not so hidden in June's claimed lower bunk. That kind of mundane shit.     

"Oh ew, uh." June waved the bra around.     

"..." Leon said in response, undisturbed.     

He was far busier making himself comfortable on what was a younger Sophie's previous bed. The only thing that bothered him really was the lack of privacy on the top bunk. The curtains only worked on the bottom. Otherwise, it was a good vantage point.     

One could see, however, that his eyes were contemplating stealing the mattress off to some hidden corner somewhere.     

"It's not that big a deal anyways. How's your head? This is a pretty big...purchase?" Mattie shrugged. Well used to ignoring his younger sister as well, he checked up on Sophie's condition. Referring to the bed in their own way.     

"Better, not as bad as it could be. " Sophie got up and stretched, ready to start the second part of the day.     

The larger in mass and more complicated the materials, the more the drawback on her physical state. Over time, Sophie was figuring out her own abilities. Getting used to them. There was much less of a strain than before.     

Could have been from practice. Could have been from the extra dose of venom. Sophie didn't care to delve too deep, what she couldn't understand. It would drive one madder than mad. More productive, and useful, to improve on what she could.     

In the past few days, she had attempted to develop a sort of routine. Forcing herself and others to keep semi-busy. As was the original plan. All steps productive for an easier time in the near and far future.     

Just because they were indoors most of the days, doesn't mean there was nothing to do.     

There were the seeds and saplings to care for. Except for a few suitable things, those were kept inside in one of the caves, from being flooded and washed away with the rain.     

There was always something to craft, build or learn.     

Self-sufficiency was a long journey.     

On days where the rain did let up, Sophie had them all forced outside for whatever reasons. Even if it was muddy as runny shit. She didn't need to think hard for excuses. Repairs and reinforcements usually needed to be made. They had to check up on the cleared plots of land, the plants, and their supplies stored elsewhere.     

In the short term, they had to collect from the small but much needed rainwater catchers. Otherwise, they had to trek out further for the groundwater stream. On dryer days, they could venture out to try to gather supplies. Keyword: try.     

For a while life was simple.     

Not exactly easy and beyond basic. But starting from the ground up, with no one else around to disturb them, it was peacefully simple.     

Energy had to be conserved without much sun for the solar panels to generate. Prepared firewood and stored food was a diminishing supply that went by faster than Sophie would like. When people were bored, kids especially, they liked to snack. What was their camp but a party of kids? So the food went by quickly, even with ration rules set in place.     

The work itself was head-scratching. One couldn't just run to the store or internet search up any questions.     

For Mattie, there was always something to clean. From salvaged and scavaged material of their day to say to the items needed to organize in the first place. No amount of supernatural or magical elements was going to give him enough time for that. It sure did help though, and what a safer time to practice?     

Even more so with the occasional good haul, Sophie would grant them once or even twice a day. Given the weather and her energy level.     

If it was raining then that meant first thing in the mornings, when the majority of them woke. Or in the later afternoon, as was the case of the bunk beds.     

Everything was all smaller than that. Scavaged supplies. Seemingly random. The only difference from going outside to forage those supplies was the source and blessed modernization. From then on it was more a wait and see what Sophie would and could show up with. Their daily entertainment.     

More cleaning and sanitary supplies, as demanded by Mattie, the unofficial den mother.     

A whole clothing rack on wheels, with miscellaneous additions to June's or Leon's limited closet.     

Some actual furniture stolen from various places. Like a real 'kitchen' table, albeit with some mismatched chairs makeshift over time. Or even rolled-up rugs to keep the cold from the floors. Those essentials that were previously taken for granted. The kind you pass by without a second glance while living in it.     

One day she brought back a large restaurant wok and steamer. One on each hand. With the food still cooking inside. Bless.     

No worries on what was to portion off and eat during that day.     

"Not that I don't love and appreciate everything from you, ever, especially food. But there's no sense, reason or way to predict anything to this. Is there?" June commented as she stuffed her face with one of those steamed buns.     

"Nope." Sophie answered curtly and honestly.     

She was also enjoying the luxury of fluffy dough to the juicy mixed filling. Priorities entirely shifted from a tightly wound beast, to one fattening and hibernating itself. Since she could, she now focused on those simple things that made life all the better.     

Like food. It was hard getting fresh food this rainy season. They were mostly limited to live off what was stored in the time before. Only what they could cook themselves. Either on coals or simmered on the small induction stove.     

Nothing they could make was as easy as the unexpected take-out. The delicious taste of well seasoned laziness.     

Who could afford take out these days? Impossible.     

As not so closet gluttons, the sisters would rather keep enjoying their meal while it was still hot.     

"Cool. Got it. Unpredictable swiping for shopping. I love it. " June mumbles in between bites, already reaching for another bun.     

Conversation and questions done for the day. Buns first.     

"June, you selfish greedy pig of a brat. Don't mind it, Sophie. Bring whatever is comfortable for you. Don't force yourself if you're not feeling well. We can handle a little more tough living. Your health is most important. " wisely stated Mattie, as if he were truly concerned.     

He very well could have been?     

"You are full of chicken crap, stop hogging that. " June snapped.     

But it would sound a lot more convincing if he wasn't talking while slurping up saucy noodles. Straight of the wok. There bit of the oily residue dotting his cheek.     

He wasn't normally a messy eater but if he didn't work on it quick, the fierce hunger of his deceptively small sisters might leave him with little to nothing. This was the harsh lesson growing up with siblings tends to teach you.     

Everyone for themselves. Very contradictory to the whole trusted teamwork they needed to survive an isolated island.     

"It's fine. I need to eat too. This much is hardly anything." Sophie licked her fingers, unwilling to waste even a little bit.     

Sodium. Sugar. Oil. All very good things now. Much better than the taste of sand, dirt, rawness and blood.     

Unless it was fresh? Just the blood. Squirting down her dry mouth, feeling the life-     

Sophie bit into another bun. A soft and civilized bun. Yeah, that was better. Good cooked meat to sweet dough ratio. Tasted like bbq pork on the inside. Can't say that about any of the stuff she's eaten on this island before.     

"Is the cat really not gonna eat more?" June raised honestly, none the wiser. Already breaking down her third bun.     

She was a bit greedy yes, but there was no shame to it. Not when one was a growing teenager. It was that line of thinking that felt bad for Leon. Part sad charity case, part empathy and sympathy. They were mostly all at the age where they were still growing. Leon especially so.     

Instead of chowing down with the others, Leon had merely observed from a small distance earlier. Starring with a contradicting air of disinterest. Taking no approach.     

Hardass that one. Vicious and petty to many faults.     

A part of him was scared and uncomfortable yes. But another part....probably just was still pissed off at Sophie. The very same part that never forgave her maybe.     

Still. They were each other's only links to that world. That time. There was a trust that came with survival. Stubborn grains of sand that weren't breaking down anymore in the crust of whatever their relations could be called.     

With Sophie's lead, they simply portioned off a kid's meal size of noodles and a single steamed bun. Then left it at a distance for him to run off with when they weren't looking. Presumably to enjoy in his own peace.     

It was more like a dog than a cat. Running off with his food like that.     

"But still a little cute." June nodded, counting it as a success.     

To everyone else, the strange burgeoning relationship with the boy could almost be regarded as a hostile pet. One that was perhaps on better terms with one family member than the others. Cute but cold at times.     

It was slowly growing by the daily interactions. Much like how it took time to get a scarred feline to come around. Especially with how much Mattie chased the younger boy around. The list for chasing included clean up, baths, returning stolen games, or to drink his daily vending machine milk. It was all for his own health and good.     

Maybe it was more like chasing around a feral raccoon?     

The siblings couldn't decide on the classification. But they were in no rush.     

"It's fine. Save him some buns for later. His stomach isn't big like yours yet." Sophie waved off unworried.     

"Hey!" June was not defending her case by stuffing more good food into her cheeks.     

But comfort herself like that she did. For there would be no mercy from anyone, much less her siblings, regardless.     

Their days passed peacefully like that.     

Do the needed chores. Expand and familiarize themselves with what they could. Grow in their own ways. Yet conserve strength. A terribly mundane balance.     

Yet it was a crucial one.     

Eat away at the supplies. Panic. Relax. Mentally panic again. Deal with it. Slowly gain new goods over time. If not by gathering or risking the elements, then with Sophie's random but steadily growing hoard. Fight over who got what, where, and when. Learn.     

Bide their time. Stay healthy.     

There really was nothing better to do. Nowhere better to be.     

Wait for a god damn another bed?     

What a blessing indeed.     

Sometimes though, in the heaviest of downpours, be it night or day, someone awakes to find Sophie staring out at nothing. Absolutely nothing at all.     

That's what she would say when someone, usually June, asked what she was looking at.     

As if dazed to a television. Watching a show that didn't exist.     

Fingers twitching over and over. Back and forth. Round and round. Wrapping around nothing at all. No living veins but her own.     

Nothing Sophie would say, back to any worried or passing response.     

What were they waiting for?     

What was she waiting for?     

Doing nothing. Being free. Being safe.     

When will it end? When will it god damn end?     

There's a rot inside every corner of Sophie. In everyone really, whether they knew it or not. But in her it took up so much space she didn't know how it didn't make up her core in the first place.     

There is rot, and sludge, and toxic waste. Killing underneath the pristine surface. Hiding deep but so mundanely close, like the kink in your back. Humming. Painfully. Almost unbearably so. Yet you sleep with it. You twist and turn, still feeling that ache you can't really locate.     

You'll let it kill you and be none the wiser for that.     

These are the silences that drive a half-sane person fully mad.     

And there was nothing wrong with that.     

Maybe it was better to exhaust yourself? Maybe it was better to run so dry you couldn't feel? Couldn't question how unreal you felt.     

But Sophie held back, held slow. Held.....safe..     

It was either safe patience or death, and death....was really no fun. Enjoy the peace. Cherish it in its own way. There would be plenty of time for insanity. Too much so.     

Soon.     

It was easier to let the skies crack rather than herself. Crack and spill. It was better than exploding. Crack and spill it all out. Rain pitter-pattered still but it was growing fainter. The dry days growing longer.     

Sense and romance, making art out of the nature of the world. Of the violence. The dry times grew longer.     

Fresh meat was coming.     

Enjoy it.     

-----------------     

-------     

---     

"The rats they roast on an open fire, open fire, open fire~ That rodents, their skin burns off and their tails they hold, cooks on the open fire~ Sizzle sizzle grill~ The rats, their bones turn-"     

"Woof!"     

"It's coming, you oversized transspecies mutt. It takes time to make things good! *cough* ugh smokey, too much smokey."     

"Woof woof *whimper*!"     

"You complaining about my singing, huh punk?!"     

A few people near enough hearing range shook their heads. The off-key singing, more specifically the impromptu choice of lyrics, was truly awful. But perhaps what's even worse was the contents, as well as the scene itself.     

Under a leafy partial lean-to next to a primative mud hut, stood an unshaven man and his very large dog. It was nothing more than a bit to block some of the wind and rain. Temporary. Fragile.     

Yet the two sang and howled cheerfully underneath the covering, even in the dismal state of their world.     

With a small smashed-down bed stone to host a sloppy mud oven, one that lasted longer than the first two so far, warm flames fired out. More cloudy smoke than should be ideal, but impossible to avoid in these conditions. The firewood too wet, too unclean.     

Just too green.     

But it was warm and dry at the moment. Something a lot of people couldn't say they had.     

That was nothing new.     

Could be a lot worse, anyone could admit that. Having a fire wasn't exactly easy but it was doable. If you couldn't make one, you could brave asking a neighbor for a few of their embers. Either way, you made do.     

You sucked it up and asked for help. You did...something.     

They were all in this together after all. At least they could rely on numbers to make something out of nothing.     

But numbers meant more hungry mouths to feed. More hands to work yes but not enough to do. There was staggeringly not enough to support the basic needs of all these people.     

People went cold. They went dirty and unwashed. They, definitely, went hungry.     

It was easier to just....stay still. Not move, not risk it. Life was too dangerous right now, too wild and new. It would be far worse if you got lost and sick out there. At least....that's the reasonable thing to do.     

Stay in one place. Stay and wait for rescue. Stay.     

Reason didn't fill the belly and keep you warm. Reason couldn't stave off the chill outside and the burn inside.     

Reason was slowly losing its place here.     

"Ah fuck it. Alright, sign me up on the rat roast party. Sup, name's Chris. I love your dog but I hate the way you sing. Will you trade some for a peanut butter protein bar?" pulled up a half shaved stranger with a pretty decent black umbrella.     

Even though it was raining cats and dogs, with the skies already dark, he was still wearing sunglasses underneath it all. There was no need for it other than to attempt to look cool or to comfortably hide the haggard dead tired look everyone was rocking lately.     

"Sure! It can be dessert. Get up in here and pull one up. Ping Pong caught too many of these things anyway." Isko greeted with a charred meat stick, perhaps too cheerfully.     

Despite being out here for a while, not a lot of people wanted to join him for meals. Not even when he offered. Was it the rats? It could have been the rats?     

But it wasn't like rat was on the menu every day. Sometimes it was larvae, worms or snails. Whatever could be found. Especially in this rain. The critters like that scamper around to dry land and a source of food. Which meant their camp was pretty much a haven.     

This wasn't Isko's first run-in with making do in the outdoors. Just the most unexpectedly long one. He's stayed at a wild number of variety of places in his line of study and work. Rules one through whatever went out the window, into a bag, and mixed up to marinate.     

Adapt. Make it work. Make friends.     

Even if your only friend is a giant snake trying to choke hug you. Ah boa constrictors, what good fat long puppos.     

The actual dog started whining, bringing his owner back to the current reality and a possible human friend. Wow. What a treat. What a rarity.     

Luckily the other man didn't notice. Shaking off the rain from his umbrella and windbreaker, unzipping it to breathe a bit easier. It could have been video attractive if he wasn't so gosh darn miserable. The sunglasses, of course, stayed on. Like a tired celebrity in public.     

"Name's Isko, the mutt's called PingPong. So do you want the plain salt or the spicy?" he referred to the bamboo kebabs, as if they were normal flavors of food.     

They were. The seasoning was fine, a blessing really. It was the rats people probably had a problem with.     

"I know. Appreciate your work. Nice to sit down with ya. " the ex-bodyguard, didn't refuse the handshake or any friendly gestures.     

He too would like to make friends with people who weren't spoiled bitches. They were obviously going to be here quite a while longer. It couldn't hurt.     

Chris had already gone past the breaking point of pissed, tired, and fed up with his current companions. Specifically one princess. Princess of jack shit complaining when there was nowhere to spend her credit cards and nothing ever going right. He wasn't straight up abandoning his co-workers and Caleb. They were pretty tight as a team thus far, especially in a place like this. They were better off than most with that teamwork and the gear they packed. One of his two employers was going through his outdoor camping phase.     

But there was only so much he could take before potentially pushing their heiress off a cliff.     

So let's get out. Take a walk in the pouring rain and mud. Sure. Why the fuck not. Fresh air, as fresh as it can get. Better than murder.     

Besides, you can't go too wrong with a guy with a dog.     

Said dog was currently sniffing out the newcomer. Its black and white fur was fluffy and warm, dried by the fire stove. Once Pingpong approved, he made it clear with a few chipper barks and a pant with his tongue rolled out. Getting close, as if allowing you to pat his head.     

Yep, can't go wrong with befriending a dog owner. Because then you get to pet the fluffy dog. Very stress relieving.     

"Take a seat. I'll just grab you one of each for now?" Isko gestured to the little logs used for stools.     

If it was just him, he would probably eat it straight off the sticks. But for a guest, he will honorably work a bit harder on the presentation. With a short leaf shaped knife, his own personal one with a hole and hook, he chopped up and deboned the hardest bits of the meal.     

It made it easier to eat, both the mental and physical aspects.     

Something that Chris accepted gratefully. His diet plan was already wrecked, just like the planes that took them down. They were trying to make the supplies still had stretched, to really last. But gods did he miss 'meat'. Or food that tasted like anything. Something about the smell of these charred lumps lured him like nothing else.     

Upon his first gratified bite, a jolt attacked up. Shivers from inside his skull all the way through his shoulders. A shock and a moan.     

"How?" he groaned, already biting in again. His pace of eating speeding up.     

As a body guard to some very rich and elite, he's been to some fancy places. Since sometimes the best protection didn't mean a guy with an earpiece behind you at all times. Sometimes it was in plain dress, two or three tables away with a plate of your own, blending in.     

All of that melted away now, with tasty grease and surprising flavor. Oh gods, something with flavor. His taste buds were alive again.     

Isko let out a laugh, putting a few more marinated skewers on the fire and showing off a pill case filled with spices.     

"Honestly the real secret is that I get stuck in too many weird places for too long. " the vet fake shrugged, reminiscing about his wildlife experiences.     

All of his useful skill or knowledge now was learned the hard way. For better or worse. Isko let out another slightly self-deprecating laugh at that.     

"You are a brilliant man. " Chris praised with his mouth full, greasy thumbs up in approval.     

"At least someone appreciates me." Isko mocked down to his dog.     

PingPong whined, playing pathetic until his owner threw him a bone. Or well, lots of bones. With the whole meat still attached.     

He threw him a prepped and seared rat ok. Unseasoned. Special PingPong doggy menu. The dog catches food. He cooks the food or at least makes it tastier. Fair deal.     

"Want another one?" Isko asked to the young man who was eating as if he were starving.     

"Whatever you're willing to share. I'll dig out more protein bars or something. Compliments to the chef. " Chris praised like he's never praised his mother's cooking before.     

"Haha no problem, just let me cut up these ready ones here. " Isko soaked in the compliments. Those little joys of making someone happy, besides PingPong.     

"Dude. Just give it to me straight man. Mmm Mmm organic living. " Chris joked, humor and sense of self slowly returning. He even slid down the sunglasses, dark circles and all.     

Isko tossed down another tong of grilled rats and both man and dog ate it up with relish.     

It looked like Chris could take another three or so with no problem at this rate. Which Isko didn't mind.     

Most of the 'seasoning' was just boiled salt anyways, and PingPong really did nab too many rats lately. The rainy season had them scampering out like mad. He had already cleaned, tenderized and salt-soaked most of them.     

Once the rain died down he was planning on walking over to that Japanese doctor's place with some. Ryo was a bit hard to open up to but not a bad guy. Definitely not a boring guy. They had a lot to talk about between the two of them and their fields. Like what goes where and how many medical myths killed lives.     

If anything, Ryo was stocked and made for some good trades or phone charging time. There was solitaire and minesweeper on his laptop! There was Skyrim or some other fancy high graphics shit but who cares, there was minesweeper! Boy did Isko love that shit.     

But it was good to speak to other people about non-work matters too. Food was a great ice breaker if anything.     

Around chopped rat kebab 7, they were having a lovely conversation about what to do if you squatted yourself into having a perfectly nice ass but there was no one around to enjoy it. That kind of mundane small talk.     

PingPong just had to ruin it. The dog got up, letting out a low growl. A warning in the distance.     

"Mind if we join you? "     

Another small group came up around. Three males. The skies were indeed lighter now, allowing the scent of bbq to waft. It didn't look so bad chopped up either.     

"Down boy, don't be rude. " Isko motioned for his companion to stand back.     

Not let up, just back.     

If PingPong wasn't lazily perking up his ears or even happy panting over to check someone for treats or their scent, then something was up. Isko trusted his fuzzy friend with a lot, maybe even his life. They've been through a lot together.     

With a quick nod and whisper, Isko gestured to his new non furry friend as well. A careful look of suspicion before turning his front counter face on, the one size fits all for patients.     

"Fresh out for now. The rest was already dealed with by someone else. Big guys need to eat, you know. But I wouldn't mind helping you skin and butcher something or borrow some fire. " he leaned and smiled, tools and spices already hidden.     

Chris stayed back with PingPong petting its alert ears smooth, wondering himself why he didn't get this treatment. Or most of the people and their kids when asking to pet the dog.     

"Damn. If we had known you had the magic touch to grilling something so nasty we could have nabbed a few of those fat suckers." one nodded to the blond in the back as if acknowledging.     

Isko somewhat got it. Maybe Chris, with his food porn moaning, had made a sort of dine in advertisement for himself. But that wasn't enough to calm down his gaurd. Far from it.     

"Try cleaning and soaking those small catches in salted water next chance you get. Makes it a lot better. If you can, brush coconut oil or some lard fat back on the skin as it cooks. " Isko smiled and twirled a used bundle of leaves as his brush. Ever friendly, maybe even more so right now.     

"Haha, maybe next time. " another guy laughs out, a bit too loud.     

It wasn't wrong to want something. Or approach for it. But both Isko and Chris followed PingPong's lead, mentally watching out for something. Anything.     

"Name's Chris man. Crazy weather we're having right. " he waved, leaning back, pretending to be relaxed.     

"I'm Isko if you already didn't see my ugly mug enough doing rounds. Don't mind PingPong, he's grumpy without his treats and squeakies. Aren't you boy?! " Isko poked and teased.     

One of the men had a look of uncertainty, like a loss of confidence followed by a small confused brush on his shoulders.     

A cough from the others.     

A look.     

Resume the plan.     

"Well, us boys wanted offer up a trade for next time. Love to have you over when we nab the next catch. Hopefully something better than-" he lifted his chin, back and forth to gesture about the rats.     

"Same, can't wait for this season to dry out and we can explore out a bit. I can't wait to eat something better, " Isko complained while nodding, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.     

"Oh, we might have something good. Call me Denzil. " smiled one, confident and tall.     

"Riley. " raised the previously unsure one, huffing out his thin chest a bit. As if overcompensatingly smug about something. Or maybe he was just made comfortable again by his companions.     

The last one looked up with a charming smile, the most silent and natural of them all.     

"Charlie." he offered up his hand.     

Isko didn't take it. Instead, he smiled till you couldn't see his eyes and waved friendly, holding up his dirty hands in a sorry gesture.     

"Nice to meet you all!"