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username: lysander name: tetsuo gender: male kamper form: here
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a walking anachronism, kris thinks.
etched in ink red like the rising sun, robe worn lazily off the shoulder— an unorthodox biker-samurai hybrid. equal parts understated honor and untamable rebellion. kris relaxes his stance, flicks his switch blade back into its casing. false alarm: no boar here, only eyes that glimmer with some feral likeness. in his pupils kris could see a feline acuity, attuned to his surroundings, no detail going unnoticed. a stranger completely unfazed even at knifepoint— and unarmed, at that. kris half expected a katana at his waist, not a simple, innocuous canteen of water.
who would've thought some teenaged rando'd be half a mile deep into the woods? much less a literal swordsman?
the samurai breaks silence first. "what are you doing here?"
"could ask you the same thing. you ain't camping here too?"
the question illicits a grimace from the stranger's otherwise unreadable face. "so that's who's responsible for this mess."
"mess?"
the reply is simple: "look."
beyond the samurai's tattooed shoulder, kris' flashlight floods the ground. light catches on metal and plastic— soda cans, packaging, manmade debris amongst the grass and treeroots. kris makes a face in disgust as the swordsman kneels, calmly picks up a piece of garbage and stuffs it into a disposal bag at his arm. something about him is mesmerizing, as if watching a monk bent over in mantra— when all he's doing is literally picking up trash. geeze, what kris wouldn't do for an ounce of that charisma.
"i live here," comes the stranger's voice. "every day i help the forest, observe what lives here— and what doesn't. do the others know much about nature?"
the others. of course. people don't usually camp alone. kris makes another face, shrugging. "just 'bout as much they got in those little handbooks they give us."
an exhale. there's a slight note of vexation in his voice. "then, i suppose i have no choice."
"huh? what d—"
"i will go back to camp with you."
"wait— but why—"
"to teach."
"teach w—"
"about nature."
"b—"
"because you children do not know anything."
the samurai stands up, finishing his sentence. kris can't tell if he's hot or annoying with that vaguely condescending attitude.
"c'mon. you didn't even give me a chance."
"a chance for w—"
"—to prove myself," kris interrupts. power move. "it ain't like i know jack about nature— look there. ash tree."
the samurai glances behind, following kris' eyes. correct. "not bad. but—"
"and growing on it? lianas. parasitic vines."
"indeed, however—"
"—nishikigoi. the common carp."
at this, samurai blinks, then furrows his brows. there's no water here in sight. kris smirks, motioning to the the other's tattooed shoulder. the ace in his sleeve.
"not here, dummy. carp ain't native to this part of the states anyway."
with that, the stranger smiles. kris' tenacity pays off. "very well. perhaps you are no fool. would you care to sharpen that knowledge of yours?"
kris grins. "guess i got some free time."
[499/500]
