Blue Jay Way

Around the riverbank, the soil is soaking wet, even a careful step might sometimes splash. The air isn't much different, hot and moist. The body sweats constantly, and water supplies are depleted constantly.

There is a huge variety of creatures wandering, the forest view is lively, and its sounds are rich. But life is a cycle. There are those animals that paint the portrait, and there are those who appreciate it. The silent observers who watch with water in their mouth. 

The predators, the hunters.

I don't see any big cat or wild boar, but there is a good example close enough. I've been hunting capybara and peccary, a particularly thin wild pig with a long nose, in addition to the small birds and iguanas that fall for our traps we get a good stream of meat. 

Finally, there are those. They have been converging to this area, the ones who ruin the party. The paint that spilled over what should've been a masterpiece. The hunter's natural enemy, the Vultures. We give our lives a fight for everything and once tired and ready to reap our rewards. Then those things suddenly appear, big stature, weird wobbly neck, a white plumage with black ends. They arrive late, fresh, as if they just woke up to finally spread their wings. 

By I'm also thankful to them. The fact that there are so many of them around here, means there is some unclaimed meat around. I'm sure my fellow hunter will agree that it is better in my hands than on these.

It doesn't take much time to find it, as it is a massive chunk of meat, floating in the river and stuck in a bunch of roots. It is some kind of crocodilian reptile with thick black scales. The killer took his part and the king vultures their own toll and there is almost two meters of this thing. 

I approach carefully, I don't fully trust rivers. There are a lot of stuff floating around and not great movement other than the flow of the water. My vision locks into a floating log some 20 meters far from our loot, it just doesn't seem right. It isn't really moving with the river, is it stuck in something? 

I approach the dead beast, keeping my eyes peeled, the water up to my knees. I shoo away the vultures, but they keep flying in the vicinity. This thing is massive, there is at least 300 kilograms here. I'll need to either split it or use something to move it to our camp. 

As I move to get cordage on my belt, one of the vultures gets bold and approaches from above and heads to catch a breath at that log, when in a split second it opens up into a huge mouth with spread-out teeth on the edges. It crushes the 60 centimeters high king vulture in a flash and starts rolling in the water.

I manage to conjure up the courage to tie a rope and add a leaf bedding to move the carcass. I would sometimes push from the rear and mostly pull with my shoulders. It felt like a Herculean task, but we'd have crocodile meat for days, not to mention the beautiful and sturdy leather. 

"Jacaré Preto. Black Caiman. A beast that can humble even the mighty Onça-pintada."

I'm back there in the next day. I wouldn't be able to explain why, maybe I think I'll get a skill point if I beat it, or maybe I just want to prove Jaguars are overrated. Whatever might be the reason I look at she as prey now, next time Biel makes that comment, I'll be the beast, and she'll be the humbled one.

I spend three days intermittently observing her movements, always preparing a sturdier cordage than usual. She spends its days close to the river knee, where the river turns, and never leaves a little patch of each in the center of it. 

In the morning, She sits outside the water on the opposite side of the river, the wide side. Basks alone, at that same spot on the water, every noon. After the first rain, it comes to this side and sits there for a bit.

It is narrow enough for me to prepare a trap and snare it by his neck. I take the cordage and make a circle, then I take the free end and loop it twice and end by bringing it through the two loops. 

In the next morning, I take extra food with me and head to the river. While it is at the other side of the river, I place the snare hanging in its path, but large enough to blend into the background. Hang it from a branch and the tie it firmly into a nearby trunk. 

I hide at a fair distance. I am pretty good with the bow, I can stay safe hidden within the trees. 

I wait for hours. Today there is no gathering or downtime. It is only the hunt.

My stomach start growling. Should be around noon. I squint my eyes - there it is. Cooling off in the water. I take a bite of the cassava from yesterday and take a deep Breath to cool off myself too.

It starts raining, and I take my cups to fill before it is on. 

As soon as the rain stops, it can be at any time. I already draw my bow and ready a shot. There are still two with Iron tips. 

GULP

She is out of the water. Weights at least a ton and has nearly 6 meters long. She feels even more imposing now. My heart races, but I do not waver. 

She is heading this way. Into the trap. 

Calm down. Steady. 

Her movements are slow. But not calculated. She takes one step too far. 

By the time she notices the noose around the neck, it is already too late. No amount of flailing will be enough. I shoot an arrow aimed at the eyes. Powerful headshot, that wasn't even noticed. I try again and hit it, causing even more failing and distress from the beast. 

This time I aim for the legs, and it finally falls to the side. With belly and neck exposed, the soft spots in the leather are exposed. Some two or three more shots and a great deal of flailing seal the deal. I still check by stabbing it with a spear before preparing to move the body. 

I have to check something, though. That little island it kept circling. I swin to it, feeling invincible. I can hear a faint clicking. It is no more than a little patch of land, barely larger than the Cainan herself, I find it very swiftly. The source of the clicking and what I've been looking for: her eggs.

The path back feels like the birds are singing, rocky. I left the carcass wrapped with foliage to delay the scavengers, as I'll need help to move it. I took the eggs with me, though, I decided to take care of them. Their mother will give us sustenance and leather, it is the least we can do.

Sally arrives the next day, Biel is still skinning it. I tell her my adventure and she seems amused, but quickly changes subject. 

"I've been to the temple, but didn't find the creator. I have also been to the auditorium and failed to get you pardoned." She seems hopeless, "I suspect their side is already taking over politically, as I failed to even convince the people in the assembly that there is a threat. Everything in Mar de Fevereiro is decided by majority vote, so we are at an impasse."

TSK 

I still don't understand the skill points system. I wanted at least one point to get to the creator and back, and I would be safe. I guess safety is a luxury we're not entitled with, once again.

"With or without secret skill, I'll go in two days. We cannot wait forever"