bone Dosquatch The frozen, naked trees reach upward, like the sky's skeleton, keeping everything from collapsing on on itself. Winter stretches before me, out to the horizion I cannot see. Gray meets gray meets gray, an uninviting expanse of forever... and I have somewhere to be. I hike along, one slipping step to the next, marking my slow progress by the holes my feet were punching into the pristine landscape. 'Progress to what?' I wondered, 'What the fuck am I doing?' I know it's a trap, I know they're waiting to kill me. If this was some cheese movie, there'd be a big special effects climax, I'd get the girl, and the credits would roll over Happily Ever After. No special effects or Hollywood script here, though. And it's too bad at that, 'cause I'm fucking cold and hungry, and it'd be nice if Convenient Guy with Fire and Meal were written in about now. "Hey, partner, where ya headed?" asked a voice as I spun, startled, and fell on my ass. There he was, just like I'd imagined him. What. The. Fuck. "Wha..." I managed. "C'mon over an' pull up a log," Convenient offers. "Made a bit too much stew, 'd be a shame to waste it." Not arguing, I pulled myself up and moved towards him. Actually, I wasn't even thinking so much as swimming in confusion, trying to figure out how I didn't notice him before...... 040427 ... Dosquatch Convenient's blue snowsuit has been dusted gray with snow and dirt and age. The earflaps on his hat are pulled down tight to his collar. The only part of him that pokes out are a pair of dark, close set eyes, a round nose, and a salt and pepper beard reaching down towards his gullet. "You gonna sit or ain't ya?" he asks as he stuffs a bowl towards me. I take the bowl and comply. I shovel a spoon into my mouth, even if only to stall my end of the conversation. Damn, this stew is good. Convenient chases something around the bowl for a minute, then looks at me. "Where'd you come from, anyways?" Where did *I* come from? I mumbled something about my car breaking down and spending two hours on foot. "No," he says. "I was lookin' straight that way, an' POP! You shows up outta thin air. I don't get it. You a witch or sumpm?" Am I a witch. If I were, I'd start by making the fire a bit bigger so I could thaw out. The fire answered with a crackle, almost like laughter, and doubled itself. ~"~ 040428 ... minnesota_chris as a noun, stark and dramatic as a verb, quite naughty 040429 ... Dosquatch "Sorry 'bout that," Convenient apologized, noticing that I had jumped back and fallen off of my log. "It'll go out if I don't stir it ever so offen." He kicked a log, and the fire jumped and crackled again. "What're you doing out here in the middle of nowhere, anyway?" I quizzed as I picked myself up off the ground. He tersely replied, "Game Warden," and pulled the front of his snowsuit open enough to reveal a badge. "Lotsa out o' season huntin' goes on up in here. Spotlightin' an' shit like that." He looked at me close. "You don' look like a hunner, though. So what's brung you out? Ain' fit for a beast out here." I sighed. That was a long story. And how much should I really tell him, anyway? Should I mention the theft? the men in cloaks? How they disappeared into the fog with Tara? The cryptic message about the strange bone medallion? Hell, even If I did tell him everything, he'd be as likely to think I was nuts as anything. I decided to keep it simple. "There's some people I need to meet. Probably about another 10 miles on the other side of that ridge," waving my hand absently in the direction I'd been walking. ~"~ 040429 what's it to you? who go blather from