Category: Neeko

Never, since the capture of Neeko and Pais’ca, had the Field Roamers stayed outside so late.  They usually retired to their tents an hour after sunrise, but they showed no sign of turning in this evening.  Their speaking around the gathering area was a murmur to Neeko, who sat with his back against his cage and watched them.  Sparks rose overhead after a loud crackle.  They put another log on one of the campfires. Continue reading Neeko 8

Had it been ten days?  Or five?  Neeko should have been keeping track.  He and Pais agreed on eight, and made some notches in the mud.  But then, on the ninth day, Neeko awoke to the patter of rain, before sunrise.  By the time the tribe stirred in their tents, the precipitation had turned to a thunderous downpour.  The storm charged north of the rainforest, soaking the savanna and the prisoners as well. Continue reading Neeko 7

A yellow-striped beetle crawled along the wooden branch that Neeko’s elbow rested on.  The sticks that composed their cage varied in size, but leaning against them stretched his back in a way that he needed to after a night sleeping on hardened dirt.  He reluctantly flicked the beetle away with his counting finger and then leaned his head back once more.

“If we’re going to escape,” Pais’ca said, her rough voice hushed.  “We’d best do it during the day, when the hunters are gone.” Continue reading Neeko 6

Neeko and Pais’ca walked through the tall grass as the sun beat down.  A gentle rain had fallen that morning, but when they looked south, they could see it pouring over the rain forest.  The green canopies and sprawling hills drank it all up, while the grass seemed to feed on Neeko’s blood more than the water.  Every time they passed through a dense wall of foliage, their machetes proved somehow insufficient.  A few blades scraped skin from bare spots between Neeko’s pant leg and his sandals, or from his forearms. Continue reading Neeko 5

For some reason, to Neeko, To’cani had not made the savanna sound quite so far away as it was.  They had hiked and tumbled and climbed and cut through dense foliage and canopied rainforest for over two weeks.  They bathed twice during that time, stopping near shallows to wash away their sweat between the fish and the fowl.  It didn’t really help—today Neeko’s weathered skin felt so crusty with salt that it added to the stiffness of the kibroot and left him in a rather sour mood. Continue reading Neeko 4

Sparks occasionally spiraled into the air, coiled over the cookfire by the cone-roof of the Cani hut.  The hole in the roof was darker than the wooden boards, which caught the glow and resembled the sizzling slabs of meat over the open flames.  Neeko liked the warmth, especially on his stiff muscles and joints.  So far, that was the only side effect he had noticed to his new diet of kibroot. Continue reading Neeko 3

A stock slashed the tall bush with a machete, scattering wide leaves onto the ferns he had trampled.  The warrior wore a skirt of long, rectangular beads over his loincloth, while the patterns of artwork on his shoulders, like holes in the forest canopy, were splattered by water droplets.  The stock took another step forward and hacked at the wall of foliage again. Continue reading Neeko 2

The buzzing of insects zipped over the rainforest, silenced only by the occasional whining of pygmy tyrants and the nighthawk’s whistle.  A big drop of water, finally welling proud enough, slipped from a leaf in the canopy above and scattered itself on a rounded rock near Neeko’s leg.  The distinct plop, though not the first, made him blink.  It wasn’t that he was easily startled, nor was it fatigue.  Neeko drummed his fingers against the handle of the old hacking knife braced between his knees and the mossy rocks he sat upon. Continue reading Neeko 1