Year 4, Day 282
Back to mapping, and to tell the truth I’m getting a little bored. On my right is water. On my left is sand. Now and then the sand is broken by trees and even a bit of grass growing where ground water reaches the roots, or by rocks. There are mountains visible occasionally, which I presume are the source of the ground water, but it is not a very inviting place for hunters.
Giraffe is still planning how to teach his son to hunt, but we are both increasingly frustrated by Meerkat’s insistence that it would be very bad luck for Songbird to come out of the birthing hut, or for a male to enter, until the day of the new moon. How they manage if they are traveling when a child is born is beyond me, and I suspect Meerkat is taking advantage of the fact that neither Giraffe nor I have been near a birthing woman before. It should be only a few more days; the moon is a late waning crescent.
I shall have to make it very clear to Patches that the baby is to be guarded, not treated as prey. She is certainly capable of learning to regard the little one as her own cub, just as she accepts Giraffe and me as her packmates.
Welcome to Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday, where a group of authors share up to 10 sentences of the work each Saturday. Click on the name or the logo to find the other participating authors.
Jarn’s Journal is the fictional journal of a fiction human-like alien stranded in Africa 125,000 years ago. Right now he’s trying to map the Mediterranean coast, while somewhat annoyed that the human he rescued as a child is being forced to stay in a hut until the new moon. For a longer version of this post, see my main blog. For all of Jarn’s Journal to date, see my author website. Although Science Fiction and Fantasy Saturday is taking a break over the Christmas holidays, I will be continuing to post the long version of Jarn’s Journal on my main blog on Fridays, so unless you follow that, you may find quite a break when you come back.