ALL NOVEL Chapter 33: My Dog is a Bard
In the morning, I packed the camp, and we set out toward the bison. I wasn’t sure exactly where they were, since I didn’t mark the location on the Map. Another facepalm—it was definitely becoming my signature move. But I remembered they were opposite from the town and quite far away. So, we walked in that direction all day. Stretch was overflowing with energy and kept running ahead and back to me. The three months I spent in the cave must have been very boring for him, and he seemed to feel cooped up.
Clusters of trees dotted the landscape, creating a stunning mix of towering mountain peaks and expansive valleys dotted with trees like decorations. The air was crisp and fresh, filled with the scent of pine and wildflowers. In the evening, I made camp near one mountain and planned to climb it in the morning to look for the bison. After lighting the fire and eating, I took out my guitar to play, and Stretch immediately sat beside me and began to howl-sing with the music. I laughed and sang with him. It was a lot of fun; I had a bard dog.
The following day, I climbed to the mountaintop and looked through my binoculars, but I still couldn’t see the bison. The panoramic view was breathtaking, with valleys stretching out below like a patchwork quilt of green and brown. I took some pictures of the view and finished the film. I didn’t feel like developing it right then, so I stored it for later. Believing we were heading in the right direction, we continued after climbing down.
In the afternoon, we reached a river I had seen from the first mountain and went for a long swim. The river was wide and deep and had a very slow current, making it perfect for a lazy swim. I summoned my canoe and tried to get Stretch in it—still no dice. He just didn’t like or trust boats. I tried to reason with him and explained that it wasn’t dangerous and a lot of fun, but he didn’t believe me. When I talked, he wagged his tail and licked my face, so I thought I was getting somewhere, but the minute he saw the boat, he ran away. I tried again to carry him into it, thinking that maybe this time he’d “get it,” but again, he jumped out and swam to shore—stubborn dog.
“Mark my words, buddy; I’ll get you in the boat one day, and you’ll love it. On that day, I’ll remind you about all the grief you are giving me right now.”
He didn’t look impressed and lay down for a nap. We stayed by the river for another day; after all this time in a cave, I wanted to enjoy being outside. The sound of the water flowing and the birds singing was a symphony I had missed.
On the morning of the fourth day, we continued walking. I thought Stretch burned all his excess energy because he walked by my side and didn’t venture ahead. I wasn’t in a hurry, so we walked slowly, enjoying nature. This world was so peaceful. I thought I saw another bushland dog, or maybe it was a “real” wolf this time. It was too far away to see and ran away too quickly. Stretch didn’t react either way. It still amazed me I hardly saw any predators. I saw them occasionally, but only from afar and only glimpses. With the abundance of herbivore herds, I thought there should be more of them, but I hardly saw any.
Maybe they sense us and hide?
By late afternoon, we reached a passage between two mountains that looked more challenging, so I set up camp and left the crossing for the morning. Again, I played and sang with Stretch—definitely a bard dog.
I had a beer, and Stretch was very curious about it. He kept sticking his muzzle in the bottle opening, so I poured some into a small bowl and gave him a taste. He loved it and demanded more!
My dog is a real bard—he wants to sing and drink. The day he starts to chase the ladies, we’ll have a serious talk about responsibility. After laughing at my ridiculous thoughts, I poured him his own bottle.
“If it causes you a stomach ache or something else, don’t come whining to me.”
He lapped his beer, gave me beer-smelling doggy kisses as a thank you, and continued howl-singing.
I love my dog.
The following morning, we crossed between the two mountains. We had to climb up a pretty steep incline and then climb down. I almost fell twice, and I had to help Stretch for the first time. Usually, he imitated a mountain goat. It looked like the two mountains squished together, and both were pretty steep. I gave up on the idea of climbing one of them to look for the bison and looked for a “friendlier” mountain.
We had lunch on the other side of the pass, rested a bit after the physical exertion, and continued walking. In another half an hour, we reached a better mountain. It took us about three hours to climb it, and finally, I could see the bison. Although they were still far, I was sure we were headed in the right direction.
I took some more pictures. The same area looked completely different from every mountaintop and simply breathtaking as I took photos. Staying until sunset, I took photos of the view with the vibrant colors of the sunset. The pictures would be epic; I was sure of it. We slept on the mountaintop that night. It was flat and wide enough for a sleeping bag and a blanket without the danger of one of us falling off.
In the morning, we climbed down and continued our trek. I estimated reaching the bison would take another two days, and I was right. On the evening of the second day, we reached the valley with the bison. I set camp at the entrance to the valley, and we had a nice dinner with beer—yes, both of us.
In the morning, I decided to skin and butcher two bison the “regular” way to get a feel for my skills and then switch to “looting,” or at least “attempted looting.” I could always infuse the meat with mana later.
I located the first candidate and one-shot it. After the rest of the herd cleared the area, I dragged the bison to a tall and sturdy tree. When I wanted to open its stomach, my skill “told” me to lay it on its back. I never did it like this. I usually left the carcass lying on its side. But I followed the guidance, laid it on its back, opened the belly, and removed the entrails. Now, I also knew that I was hanging them wrong. Turns out you hang it with the head down, not from its neck.
Live and learn, live and learn.
After it drained, I spread a large plastic sheet, lowered it from the tree, and skinned it, following the guidance of my skill. It was hard work—by the time I was done, I was sweating buckets. Then I butchered it. It was easier than skinning, and I needed less “prompting” from my skill since the butcher in the town showed me twice how to butcher a carcass.
When I was done, I decided that doing one bison the “regular” way was more than enough. It was hard physical labor, and I was covered in blood. One experience was enough for me, thank you very much.
Even after casting three Clean spells on myself, I still felt dirty, so I washed in the nearby stream. I couldn’t believe people did that for fun. I could understand butchers and hunters, as it was their job. But there was no chance I would go hunting for fun on weekends.
It was already afternoon, and I had finished my work for the day. When I returned to camp, I opened the cooler holding the bison and began imbuing the meat with mana. I tried to control the mana and not explode the beef, and succeeded with most of it. Some smaller pieces “popped,” but the rest stayed whole.
Yes!
No more exploding carcasses.
I cooked us bison burgers with a baked potato for me, and we had dinner. Stretch kept putting his paws on my shoulders and back, sniffing all around me and nudging me with his muzzle. It was so obvious he wanted a beer! I resisted for a while—I didn’t want an alcoholic dog. But eventually, I broke down, gave him a beer, and had one myself.
I took out my guitar and began playing. Stretch immediately started singing. The second song I played was “Dancing in the Dark” by Bruce Springsteen, and I got up and danced while playing and singing. Stretch also got up and ran circles around me while howl-singing.
It was good to be alive.