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DOUBT NARROWED TISH's eyes as she followed Jacques through the muggy forest. She watched him squat over a paw print and check the surrounding area for fur. “So...” A bombarding cicada made her pause. She suppressed a shriek, banished the insect with a wave of her hand, and asked, “You were a monster hunter. Really?”
Jacques held up a tuft of bright orange fur, admiring its color in the sunlight. “I was. Not for long, though. Maybe a year. I wasn't good at it.”
“Why weren't you good at it?” He didn't answer her question, so Tish asked another one, “How long have you been a bounty hunter?”
“Just a year. Before that, I built machines. Before that, I was an Alymane soldier. Before that, I was—”
Tish interrupted, “You were an Alymane soldier?”
“Aye. For a couple of years is all. I try not to do anything longer than a year or two. Life gets dull when you do the same thing every day. When I get bored, I look for something new.”
“That's... interesting.” Tish's lungs resisted when she drew a deep breath. The heat of the Wilds was oppressive. “What else have you done?”
“I taught literature for awhile... that was boring. I never trained to be a teacher, so I had to lie about my credentials to land the job.”
When Jacques hopped up from his squatting position and darted away, Tish followed. She had to double her pace to keep up with him. “If it was boring, why did you lie to get the job?”
“Dunno. It was something different, I s'pose. I'd never been a teacher before,” Jacques mumbled. “I don't even like books... not that much. Not like Rathen does. I was popular with the students, though.”
“Dare I ask why?”
“Sometimes I'd slip in a sword lesson or two,” Jacques said. “Also, some of them hated the books as much as I did.”
“You're such a strange fellow.”
Jacques sent a grin over his shoulder. “I know.”
“You've had a lot of jobs for someone your age,” Tish observed. “I mean... you don't look that old.”
Jacques scratched his head, disheveling his already-messy hair, and his grin flipped into a frown.
“I didn't mean that as an insult!” she exclaimed. “You don't look old. I mean... you look young, but you're clearly older than me, so—”
Jacques pinched her lips together. “Shhhh. I think I heard something,” he whispered.
Tish leaned away from his hand and rolled her eyes. She didn't hear anything but buzzing cicadas and warbling birds.
“It sounded like... a chittering,” Jacques explained in a hushed voice.
“Like a monkey?” Tish asked. “I think I saw a monkey a little while ago. I—”
“This way!” Jacques declared as he dashed away from her, and Tish's eyes rolled again.
“Why are we even doing this?” she asked.
“We aren't doing anything,” Jacques corrected her. “I'm tracking a beast and you're following me. You're welcome to bugger off.”
Tish gasped at his remark. “How rude!”
“It's not rude. It's honest!” Jacques told her. “There's no we. There's me and there's you, and you're more than welcome to go your own way.”
Tish crossed her arms. “I thought we were getting along!”
“We were! Well... as much as a man can get along with the little girl who destroyed his favorite thing in the world.”
“Your favorite thing?” Tish tripped over a tree root and grabbed his arm to steady herself. “The... bangy-woop? That was your favorite thing? Oh, and what sort of self-respecting man would give such a stupid name to one of his inventions?”
“A fun one.” Jacques shook her off of his arm, patted her head and repeated, “Little girl.”
“Why are you calling me that?”
“You said I was an old man, so I'm playing along.”
A mess of gnarled tree roots made the ground uneven, so Tish lifted the hem of her dress as they trudged over them. She hated dresses. If she made it out of the Wilds, she vowed to burn the garment and wear breeches for the rest of her life. With a grumble, she told him, “I never said you were old.”
“It was implied.”
“No. It wasn't,” Tish flatly corrected him. “I mean, you're obviously older than me... by about ten years, at least. I'm only pointing out the obvious!”
“Right. Anyway, I spotted a new set of tracks, and they lead to that cave over there. This old man is gonna go check it out. Either you can...”
“You're not an old man!”
He continued speaking through her protest, “...stay here or follow me to the beastie's lair. At least, I think that's the beastie's lair. It might be. There's a fair chance, at least. Manticores breathe fire, so you might want to take that into account.”
Tish collapsed against the nearest tree. They had hiked for miles, and she desired rest over danger. “I think I'll stay here.”
“That's disappointing... but oh well. I know we're not a team or anything. We're just two people, randomly thrown together, trying to tolerate each other.”
“You're not trying hard enough.” Tish sighed. “Even so, I hope you don't get roasted. I'd rather see you come back in one piece.”
When Jacques departed, Tish sat cross-legged on the ground and planned her next move. Did she want to wait for Jacques or leave without him? Staying in his company made little sense, because they were enemies more than friends. Even so, the idea of wandering the Wilds on her own made her uneasy.
Tish closed her eyes and whispered aloud, “Mother... Father... if you're still around... if you're paying attention from wherever you are... please, please help me get out of this place. Everyone needs me. Sarah, Crissa, Laurenth... they all need me. Please.”
She hoped to reunite with the rest of the army, but the Wilds were vast, and she didn't know where to begin her search. She needed a divine guide to point her in the right direction.
Tish's eyes snapped open when she heard a snapping branch. Jacques had returned, and he was carrying an orange, cat-like creature with wings. The beast's red eyes were wild as it lapped Jacques' chin.
“This...” Jacques began, chuckling as the tongue attacked him. “This is why I was a rubbish monster hunter. I like them too much.”