Rain clutched the fire starting trinket with renewed vigour...his lifeline was restored.
His frostbitten fingers tgrobs as he hauls his meagre belongings and walks a distance away from the frozen body, comes to a stops, scanning the towering pine forest.
The expansive blanket of snow coupled with the towering pines botched his sense of orientation, making his vision swim with every attempt in getting his bearing.
*sighs*.
The leather bundle thumps as it lands on the snow, below the towering pine, atleast they would offer a bit of protection aganist the elements.
Rain circles around, in search of anything that would burn, his boots sinking and dragging in the snow with every step.
Nevertheless, his efforts were rewarded; he manages to scrape together branches and debris from snow covered ground.
Some of which had to be broken off from low hanging branches, still green, he could not afford to be choosey.
They would burn.
Rain wipes off, snow from a branch he just foraged, setting it with the growing pile.
He smiles, at the work of his hands, as he grabs the pile of branches and ties them together before lugging it back to his designated 'camp'.
"Ahh, not now!"
Rain mutters, crouched into a pile of twigs, set to start the fire.
Yet, the sparks flickering and snuffed out with every attempt.
The bouts of frustrated, and angry mutterings go on for quite a while, before he suddenly goes prone and blows into the pile- now smoking.
The pile smokes for a short moment, before orange flames lick the twigs.
He fumbles with larger branches, trying and struggling to break them with his numb fingers- gradually, the built fire gets stacked with branch after branch, until the flames roars and crackles, sending glowing splinteres flying.
*Finally*
His back rests aganist the towering pine, cleared ground underneath his bum, with all the snow pilled around, a makeshift fortress aganist the elements- not so high, but high enough so that only his head is exposed when he seats upright.
Rain seats, his feet almost plunged into the fire...he sighs with relief as the warmth slowly spreading into his bones.
He relishes the warmth for a while before getting back to 'work', his soaked garments will have to be dried, he would be foolish to let the fire go to waste.
It takes him a short moment to arrange branches close to the fire- branches wrapped in cloth and leather.
A few hours and they will be bone dry- ready to be worn.
He absentmindedly caresses the fur of his coat, not his, rather the one he 'foraged' from the corpse.
He couldn't help but wonder what caused the demise of the man
That thought process gets interrupted by his growling stomach- now that he was out of certain doom- hunger strikes.
Rummaging through the pack he had managed to take before his pursuit, he fishes out a pile of soggy jerky.
He chews down a few pieces, grabs the rest and roast dries over the fire, they would spoil if left as is, then he would be left with nothing to eat- or eat them spoilt and risk poisoning.
He empties the pack, its contents soaked, some were beyond saving.
He sighs as he grabs his journal, holding his breath as he unclaps its leather clasps.
"Whoooou,."
Relief washes over, it was not beyond saving, just soaked on the edges- nothing the fire won't fix.
It would have been a bummer to lose his life's work- as young as he is- the journal documented his past.
His attempts at runecraft- most that blew up on his face- charring the pages of the journal.
"I guess it will be more charred than not," he mutters, ironically finding humour in his past faults and flaws
To lose all that, and the sketches he'd drawn over the years!- Lum praised his 'gift' , calling him a natural born- not that he believed him.
"Lum..."
Rain hesitates, realising , or rather recalling that he wouldn't get to see him- unless Lum survived the fall out of aiding his escape and the ailment that clung to him- he doubts it.
He was yet to make peace with all that had transpired within the span of the previous few days.
The torment lingers.
Rain shrugs off his thoughts, shutting them, they were too raw to dissect at the moment.
He stretches into the fire turning the jerky, not to burn them.
His fingers grab one as he's on it- chewing it, whilst flipping the brown pages of the journal, carefull not to burn it.
Speaking of pages, it was then that he recalled of the scrolls amongst the dead adventurers belongings- he gets to his feet, grabs the side pack, and gets back to his seat, groaning from the protests of his sore body.
He opens the pack, inspecting its contents- but with more focus on the scrolls.
He fishes them out, carefully placing them beside him as he continued to rummage through- he found nothing noteworthy, apart from the trinkets he knew not of their function, and the scrolls.
Satisfied, he opens the scrolls one after the other- to say they were in a bad condition would be an understatement, they were barely holding on- faded and smudged ink covering its parchment, barely visible, let alone readable.
He skims through them- from what he managed to glean from them, most were commissions, to the adventurer, the rest were incomprehensible, the ink and smudges made it all incorherent- a call to arms, mentions of a 'Reech' retreating- whatever that meant.
And lastly, one of significant importance to him, talks of a small village, a supply outpost to the south- this made his heart skip a beat, maybe he would be able to find refuge there, start a new life and possibly get his wounds looked at, sooner rather than later, before they get infected or get worse.
But there was a catch- he couldn't help but worry about- not his ratkin pursuers.
No, for all it was worth, they considered his good as dead, swallowed by unforgiving waters.
His concern was his position, his orientation to the village- he couldn't tell if he was washed further south or not.
It was confusing, if washed so far south then, he would have to go north, otherwise he would head south- the corpse couldn't also serve as a marker, who could say the adventurer had walked in reference to the mentioned outpost village?
The thought of getting lost within this white expanse of snow unsettled him to the core, where every feet covered within looked similar.
Fatigue catches up and Rain finds himself drifting into deep slumber- everything would have to be looked upon and analyzed come dawn.