I decided to take the rest of the day to rest, studying both books I got from the library. It was only much later that Owl showed back up. He looked tired. Seeing me, he forced out a grin.
"How are you doing, Boy? Did you sleep well?" He laid his bow on the worktable. He also took out his long blade; I could see smears of black tar still clinging to its surface.
"Yeah, it could have been worse." I got up from my bed and walked to the table where his knife lay. "How many did you kill?" I asked, curious.
He grinned, this time with almost a hint of pride.
"Oh, I got a lot of them today. One of my best days, if I do say so myself. That church back there bothered me, so I went and cleaned it up. I also got a skinless along the way, and a brand new shiny core." He rolled the crystal-like sphere between his fingers.
Before we could talk further, our voices were drowned out.
[Dong] [Dong] [Dong]
The bell set my ears ringing, but I barely registered it. The implication weighed more than the sound itself. The people being carried yesterday... they were gone now, turned into those things.
If we were lucky, they were turned into husks. If not, well... at least there would be more cores to be harvested.
Even if my thoughts tried to make light of the situation, it still felt terrible. There was nothing I could do about it, though. 'Not yet, at least.'
I was still too weak; I could barely keep myself alive if I went out there. If even that. Which brought me to the next topic of conversation with Owl.
With the sound of the bell dying down, he looked a little gloomy.
"Hey, I want to make a trip to the sewers. I want to try hunting." My words seemed to pull him away from his thoughts.
He crossed his arms, analyzing my face a little.
"Well, you are welcome to try; I won't stop you. But how do you plan on catching anything bare-handed? And what if you come across any husks—can you fight them?"
It felt... like when my mom would try to discourage me from doing something dangerous. I felt like I was being lectured by one of my parents.
"Well, I'm not saying I'm going right now. I need to prepare first, get a weapon figured out." In fact, I had just the idea. "I also picked up a few clothes, as you told me. I won't be able to use my old ones anymore."
I had used my knife to cut up the waist of my old gym pants. They had elastic bands to make the pants fit better around the waist... those would be more useful now in helping me make a slingshot. I could use it to hunt scavengers, to shoot rocks and attract husks away from me. It was the perfect weapon for this situation.
I went back into my room, picking up a few clothes. I had chosen a long, leather coat. As it was, it went well beyond my feet, dragging on the ground, and the sleeves were simply too long—made for the Orvelis' long arms. I also picked a set of black pants and the most modest shirt I could find. I couldn't see myself wearing anything too elaborate; the Victorian feel just didn't resonate with me at all.
He looked over what I had picked out; he didn't seem to completely approve. It seemed like he was going to say something, but then didn't. He sighed.
"I'll see what I can do." He picked up the clothes. "What did you have in mind for a weapon? I can make one for you, too."
"Thanks, but you're already helping enough, Owl. Besides, the weapon I chose is pretty simple; I'll just make it myself. I just need a sturdy piece of wood."
He scanned me, his alien, owl-like eyes studying me with great scrutiny.
"Don't get too cocky, Boy. Overconfidence is a slow and insidious killer in these parts."
Before I could protest, he pointed with his head to one of the boxes in the corner.
"I just hope you know what you're doing. You can help yourself to that wood over there. Just don't use the whole box."
"Thanks." I understood his concern, but I knew what I was doing. I wasn't being overconfident, just confident. He sat down to work on the clothes, and I started going over the pieces of wood in the box he pointed to. It took a bit of searching, but I found what I was looking for. With just a bit of carving, I could get this piece into a strong "Y" shape.
Picking up my knife, I sat down at another one of the workstations and, under the occasional sneaking glances from Owl, started carving. We worked for a few hours. I took longer—my knife wasn't exactly made for carving—and I was trying to be careful not to cut too deep and mess up the shape of the slingshot.
At some point Owl finished before me, and I picked up a few scraps of leather he had cut off to wrap the handle of the sling, as well as to make a seat for the ammunition. When I finished, Owl was cooking what looked like some bread. He had milled some grain into flour and made it into small patties that he cooked in a pan, over the forge.
We ate in silence. The bread was warm, crispy, and very subtly sweet. It reminded me a little of cornbread; the grain he used was probably a bit similar to corn.
After eating, I went out to the latrine area. It was a decently long corridor, and with nothing to break in there, I could test the sling without much issue.
Stretching the rubber, I aimed it down the corridor... I had loaded a small rock onto the leather seat. I let go; it flew quite fast, striking the wall at the end of the corridor.
"Huh, interesting design. Can I have a look?" Owl commented from the side. He had been curious about what I had been making and wasn't shy about it.
"Sure, just don't pull it too strong, the propelling part will give out."
He studied it carefully, stretching it a bit, but not much.
"I've seen materials like this before, but they are usually made of beasts' tendons. This seems... Hmm." He was muttering to himself while analyzing it.
"I'll think of any improvements later. I guess this will work for scavengers." He gave me back the sling and turned around to leave. "Good work, Boy."
'I guess that's his best attempt at a compliment so far.' Well, that's good enough.
"Thanks."
I went back to practicing with the sling until late. I drew a small target with chalk at the end of the corridor, just over the latrine. My accuracy wasn't great at the start, but it improved quickly enough. I wouldn't be able to hit a scavenger from too far; the whole corridor was about five meters (16 feet) long. But it would have to do.
I packed the sling and a pouch of stones, checked the bandage on my leg. The workshop had gone quiet; Owl was lightly snoring while lying on a bundle of furs. 'I haven't seen him sleeping since my first day here. Was he awake all this time?'
I went into my room, closing the door behind me. I cleaned myself with a rag and a bucket of water. Then I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. I slowly drifted to sleep, with not many thoughts of home bothering me this time. 'Maybe I'm starting to get used to this.'