Into the Woods

Chapter Twenty Three

The sun is setting by the time we get back to Sylvie's. Not long before we approached the house, I shot down a several squirrels so we wouldn't show up empty handed. As we approach the clearing near Sylvie's house, I hear a trill.

"Did you hear that, Gale?"

He nods.

"Quail?"

"Maybe a grouse."

"Wait here," I tell him, as I set down the squirrels I had twined over my back. I quietly slink off in the direction of the sound. I survey the land, trying to figure out where they are most likely to be roosting. My eyes scan the low light for the slightest movement, my ears strain for their next sound. Then I see it. The tall meadow grass moves lightly. I'd think it were the wind if it wasn't such a small, isolated area. I grab a stone from nearby and toss it with all my might where I saw the movement. Dozens of birds immediately leap from the ground. I'm able to get three before the flock has disappeared.

"Impressive," Gale says as I return to him holding my bounty. I see he's been fashioning twine as I walk over to him. He holds it up. "I figured this'd make it easier to carry them."

"Thanks."

We both struggle back to Sylvie's house, me with my catch and Gale with his wounds. As soon as we're in eyesight, the children run out to greet us.

"They're here! They're here!" Trek screams.

I notice several small figures piling out of the door, all excitedly running up to us. Sylvie's form soon follows.

"You're back!" But she must notice Gale's limping. "Oh my-are you okay?" She picks up her pace. I hand my hunting to the smaller children when they reach us. "Trek, help take this to the kitchen. Cinda, run back and fetch the medical supplies."

"I'm okay," Gale grunts, adding, "mostly," as Sylvie and I help him back to the porch. Cinda returns with the medical supplies.

"What happened?"

"He fell off a cliff." I say bluntly.

"What? Go get some warm water, Cinda." Sylvie orders again. "How?"

"We were chasing a deer."

"Is anything broken?" Sylvie immediately sets to studying Gale, and she seems to be quite the professional.

Gale shakes his head. "I don't think so."

She reminds me of my mother. She cleans Gale with a soft cloth and the warm water Cinda brings. "This is bad," she says in response to his ribs. We'll need to bind them."

The young children have returned and are peeking out the door on to the porch. "Is he okay?" little Mae asks.

"He will be," Sylvie says to her children, he tone never wavering once. "I just need to patch him up a bit."

Sylvie proceeds to stitch a few of the deeper lacerations on his arm and binds his torso so his ribs are protected. She also spends a lot of time cleaning and bandaging his knees, which have been made all the worse after the walk home. When she finishes, she asks me to take Gale to bed.

"Is Gale joining us for dinner?" Trek asks.

"No, Gale needs to rest."

"But I wanted him to tell me all about hunting!"

"He can do that later," she says, "let's start making dinner." Her children follow her into the kitchen as I take Gale to our room.

"How are you feeling," I ask as I try to help make him comfortable by putting pillows under his knees and situating his back.