"Yes I am Pax Humanis. Yes I am dangerous. But as long as I'm just teaching you to hunt animals here on this world, we're cool. Besides, my prey is far more interesting with far more security. All you're doing is helping me make sure the local deer population doesn't get too numerous." -- BKF
Puhshuff was plenty young, but they knew what those colours meant. Black, red, and yellow - sure to kill a fellow. They dropped their sad excuse for a knife and put their hands on their head. "I dint see nuthin'," they declared.
The killer in Pax Humanis coloured camouflage looked them over. She said, "What are you? Eight? Ten?"
They could only shrug. The killer didn't seem to want to kill, so Puhshuff relaxed a little.
"You eat, today?"
They shook their head.
The killer frowned, staring off into nothing. "I'm not here long enough to cover all the very important stuff. I can send a memo to the seeyarsee, but that's... not enough either. You need nutrition. I came here with a knife and my wits. You're small, hungry, and needing now..." she sighed. "Okay. This is against the rules, but I'm going to show you some stuff. And feed you."
"You'll never fatten me up enough to eat."
"I don't eat people, kid. I vow, my honour as a blood-thirsty serial murderer, that you will only learn what you need to in order to survive. Starting with how to make some decent string. You can do a lot with string.
There was also how to weave a mat to sleep on, how to stitch them together with string, how to stuff them with sweet-smelling vegetation. How to tell what wild forage is safely edible. How to make shelter, set traps, and how to cook the food they had found.
Every now and then, the killer would leave camp without a sound, and come back in a strange mood. Always washing herself off before settling down with Puhshuff.
The pinnacle of Puhshuff's achievement was successfully trapping and killing a deer.
"You have to cook that twice," advised the killer. "You don't want parasites. You have enough trouble. Good news, it's almost over. Two months, tops, you'll have parents who care. And a new name, likely. Nobody should be named 'push off'. It's cruel."
"It's what they call me," said Puhshuff.
"No, kid. They're telling you to go away. Kids like you deserve a kinder world to live in. Fortunately, I'm almost done making that happen."
"You're leaving?"
"I'm dangerous. I have to go back where I came from."
"Will I see you again?"
She shrugged. "If they let you, I guess. My name's Shawn." Her last words to Puhshuff were, "You look after yourself, okay?"
Puhshuff survived pretty well for two months. Then the people in bright clothing came searching for them. They had better food and nicer clothes for Puhshuff, and medicine to make them feel better. They didn't even worry about Shawn until they were well into learning to read and write.
That was when they asked for help to write to their saviour. Including how to spell her properly - Sean.
[Photo by Dmytro Koplyk on Unsplash]
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