Chapter 24

Cheeks Full of Beer.

Thrush

The ship contained quite a lot of metal. Even without the turret, there was enough material to stick together and make at least one other smoker. That was all I thought about as I ransacked the ship. Smoked fish. I craved the flavor so much that I felt in a hurry to return to Hawkin’s cabin.

In the meantime, I munched and crunched on some frozen goblins. I had a nice pile of about fifteen. Since the goblins looked nice in a pile, I decided to organize things into their own piles as well. By midday, everything had its own pile. There were piles of chests, of small barrels, weapons and ammunition, tools, ore, cloth, metals, food and drink, and one last big pile of things that didn't interest me.

What did interest me presented a dilemma. Hawkin’s cabin was a few days' trek away. Though it was warming up and the snow was melting, that didn't change how far I would have to transport all my new favorite things. Weather and terrain did not hamper me.

The first thing I’ll bring is the harpoon turret.

What about the rest? It would take me a hundred trips at least. Something I wasn’t in the mood for, nor saw myself ever being in the mood for. Having Hawkin help transport everything might make it worth it.

Do I really need everything here?

Hawkin had an ability to make things disappear into an inventory. I didn’t have that kind of magic. He explained that the inventory was…

Inside him? Attached to him? A dimensional place?

I had a big stomach which was inside me, attached to me, and could fit a whole lot of everything. Unfortunately, my stomach had its own mind and I couldn’t tell it to not eat something I gave it. I didn’t want to go into a stupor again from eating too much.

Deciding what to bring first hurt my brain a bit. While I was thinking, I gobbled some thawing goblins. The outer layer was a tad soggy, but the interior broke like ice. I picked clothes and hair from between my teeth. Gobbled those too.

I know. I’ll bring some barrels with me. Hawkin will like them. Only if I can also bring the turret too.

I could carry the turret without problem, and my backpack could only hold so much. My stomach would simply eat things I gave it, which only left two other ways to go about this. Either I discover my own dimensional inventory—just like Hawkin—or I…

Figure something else out? There’s only one thing to do. Find my own inventory.

A small barrel was a good place to start. I picked the heaviest one I could find and shook it. Whatever was inside was frozen. I turned it this way and that. I held it out like Hawkin does, and waited for it to disappear.

That’s not working.

I pressed it to my stomach and I tossed it up in the air. I tried biting it, but that wasn’t fun, and it meant I could only bring one with me. I accidentally punctured the barrel with my teeth and ended up eating the whole thing in a frenzy.

Oops.

I continued to try and figure out how to put the barrel into my inventory; if I had one. I felt a burp come up and was surprised to find that it tasted like Hawkin’s beer. Except it was much, much worse. It smelled like feet. Bad feet. Bad feet and skunk. But it was beer. Just like Hawkin made.

Beer. Now I really have to bring him these barrels.

As I tried to figure out Hawkin’s inventory trick, I became quite frustrated. I ended up eating another one until I heaved a sigh and decided to try all over again.

The next barrel was just as heavy as the first two. I held it up at arm’s length and tried to make it disappear. By thinking this time. It didn’t work.

Maybe there’s something else Hawkin does that I hadn’t noticed. Perhaps he’s quick with it. Shoves it into his pockets as fast as he can. Maybe he’s just been playing tricks on me.

I grabbed another barrel, and held it up next to the other one. If Hawkin could be quick about it, maybe I could too.

On the count of three. One… Two… Three!

As fast as I could, I shoved each barrel into my mouth. I stuffed them into my cheeks. I scrambled for more barrels and shoved three more into my cheeks.

“I dimd it!” I managed to mumble.

I was greedy, so I took a sixth barrel and shoved that into my cheek. The most important part in the next few days would be not swallowing any of them. My stomach gurgled and already seemed to be reaching for them.

The turret had some weight to it, but I carried it upon my back without problem. It was infinitely lighter than the ship. Then, one foot in front of the other, I began my walk back to Hawkin’s cabin.

I knew I could count on him to help me transport the rest of my treasures. Then he could teach me some more on smoking fish. That was the plan.

I’ll have to go fishing again, of course. Maybe get something big this time. Who knows? I’ll enjoy whatever fish I get my paws on. Although, I’ll have to be careful not to get any poisonous fish since humans are weak to that taste. Strange creatures; humans are.

I worked my nostrils in overtime throughout the rest of the day. As soon as night fell, I caught a distant whiff of a familiar sooty smell. Hawkin’s stove. He was baking squash, and with it, carried the scent of something mysterious. I felt the color blue fill my eyes the more that I sniffed. Following that scent, I made a straight line for Hawkin’s cabin. If there were boulders, I slashed through them. If there were brambles, I pushed through them until they snapped.

I walked for days and nights, not once stopping to empty my cheeks or put down my prize turret. I was delighted to have found deer tracks, and an instinct in me flared to life. I wanted to go hunt it down. I turned down that urge, because I had my sights on smoked fish.

The trail I paved couldn’t be missed. It was a road of destruction that I was proud about. Hawkin and I would have a much easier time making trips to collect my treasures. Straight there. Straight back.

I plowed on, paving that trail all the way to Hawkin’s cabin.