Chapter 4: Chapter 4: Let There Be Fire!

It wasn’t a good night. While she didn’t have much of a frame of reference, Regina found it far from restful. She slept fitfully, almost slipping off her perch several times.

More than once, she woke up to hear what had to be monsters making noise in the dark forest. One of them emitted an unearthly, bone-chilling howl. Another time, it was the braying of a large wolf pack. Luckily, these sounds were all distant, surely kilometers away still. Each time, she lay still for a while, listening for them, to see if they moved closer. They didn’t.

At least she had managed to catch a few hours of rest. When dawn started to paint the eastern sky with warm colors and the general level of light increased, she carefully climbed down from her tree. Her legs refused to cooperate at first and she stumbled a few steps. She stretched a little, then took a good look around and started walking. There were no monsters visible. She didn’t even see many normal animals. Did this place even have large predators, or were they out-competed by monsters?

The first thing Regina did was hurry to check on the egg. She breathed an unconscious sigh of relief when she saw it sitting in its little hollow, with no signs of monsters or predators. She hurried up to it, then carefully looked it over and tried experimentally pushing on its shell.

It didn’t budge easily. The shell still felt hard, although it had cooled noticeably. But the egg seemed a little larger to her. Had it actually grown? Maybe it was just because of the different lighting. She wished she had some measuring tape, but on the list of her wishes, that was pretty far down.

After that, she walked around a little, in a rough perimeter of the spot, and examined the terrain. She also picked up a few rocks she found, trying to get the roundest or sharpest ones. She put those in a small pile close to the egg when she returned.

Then Regina took the sharpest rock she’d found and went back into the trees. She didn’t have to walk long before she found more of the Climbing Vines. It turned out that the rock was less useful than her claws, so she buckled down and started cutting through a vine with them again. After a while, she had a few good-sized lengths of improvised rope and her fingers ached. She returned to her pile of stones and put them down, winding one of them around her waist and a shorter one around her left arm like a bracelet.

Thus prepared, Regina set off back in the direction where she’d fought the Monster Duck. What she really needed was a way to store water. She knew people used to use waterskins made from the bladders of animals. She just didn’t think she’d be able to get one from the remains of her prey, and she didn’t really want to try.

It turned out she didn’t get the option. When she returned to where she’d fought the duck, Regina found a mess of broken branches and blood splatters on the ground. But the corpse of the monster was gone. Except for a few pieces of bone and what might be intestines, she didn’t find anything remaining of it. Presumably a larger monster had dragged it off or eaten it on the spot. Regina glanced  around nervously, but the forest still appeared to be innocently calm and quiet.

She continued on for a few minutes towards the river. By now, the day was starting to warm up. She’d probably have at least fifteen hours or so of sunlight, assuming the length of days lined up with her expectations for the apparent season. That was enough time to get some things done.

Once she reached the river, Regina carefully checked for any monsters. Except for a small herd of deer a little further downriver, she didn’t see any animals. Two of the deer looked at her when she stepped out of the forest and seemed to evaluate her, but the herd didn’t move. She still hurried, quickly cleaning herself as well as she could and taking a long drink. What she assumed were her wings were still gunky and hard to move. She sighed and turned to head back.

Her size was difficult to estimate without anything specific to compare it to, but she would put her height somewhere in the ballpark of a large kid or short woman. Now that she thought about it, it was entirely possible that she wasn’t fully grown yet. Maybe she couldn’t even use her wings yet, even if she had them.

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To investigate that, she got to one of the trees close to her improvised camp and put her back against it, then carefully cut a line into the bark with her claws at the height of her head. She’d check herself against it periodically.

After that, she continued her work. The walk had given her enough time to think about what she needed to do and come up with a few ideas and priorities. So Regina walked through the forest and gathered the driest branches she could find, dropping them a few meters away from her egg. She also took some dried leaves and pieces of bark that might serve as kindling.

Of course, she didn’t really know how to make fire. But she knew the basic principles. She didn’t have any flint and wasn’t sure how to identify it even if there was some around. But she had a vague impression of people in the jungle making fire by generating enough heat with the friction of several pieces of wood against each other.

After half an hour of searching and preparations, she had a length of wood with a reasonably even surface that would serve as a board, with a small indentation cut into it in the middle. She put a long, straight stick into it and pushed her improvised tinder around it. Then she started rubbing the stick between her palms, turning it as quickly as she could.

Regina was at it for a while, trying to find the best way to turn the stick quickly and generate maximum friction. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going too well. The claws at the ends of her fingers tended to trip up the piece of wood, giving it quite a few scratches and slowing it down when it was caught in them every time she got too close. It also wasn’t easy on the insides of her hands. They didn’t have the thick, protective covering that her less movable parts did.

She sighed and shifted on the ground to find a more comfortable position. Then she tried again.

She got it up to a pretty good speed before she lost the rhythm and it caught in one of her claws, stumbling to a stop immediately.

“Dammit!” She clenched her teeth and tried again. This time, it didn’t take long until the stick slid out of the indentation she’d made for it.

“Why won’t you just spark already?!”

For a moment, she sensed something again, another shift in the energy she’d felt before. A small spark came to life on the rough wooden board, and then a small trail of smoke rose up from the tinder.

A blue box appeared.

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