Great Bear Wilderness umntu ngumtu ngabantu

ear, the man reiterates for her. praimfaya, feeling — to no one's fault — the stirrings of frustration and helplessness at the language barrier that exists between them, nods. there is something wrong with his ear. perhaps, she thinks, the situation is not so helpless after all. admittedly, their progress of communication is slow but they are making ground and that it something. except ...she is woefully reminded, as she has spoken to him mere seconds ago, that she is no healer.

insek. he tells her and it is, thankfully, close enough to the common equivalent that she is able to understand. the man has an insect in his ear. try as she might, the young worlida cannot entirely keep the confusion from her face. that can happen? is what her befuddled expression asks but she regains control of her visage soon enough and smooths it away as she hesitantly draws nearer yet, as if she plans to inspect the occupied ear.

nevermind that she doesn't have the first clue as to how to aid the poor man. ok, praimfaya says, peering left and then right as if something might give her sudden inspiration, only to look back at him with a terse, albeit contemplative expression. closer now than she was previously, she can hear the muffled buzz of the fly making its home in his ear. what attracts flies?, she asks herself. rotting meat. although, given the famine ( or tail end of it? ) praimfaya doubts there is an overabundance of rotting meat laying about. if lone wolves didn't snatch it up she doesn't doubt scavengers would've.

the only other thing that comes to her mind is a slim branch of a particularly sappy pine she passed not too far from their current position. maybe, she thinks, she could trap it in the sap and lift it from his ear ...but that sounds unwise. like a last resort sort of desperate. hm, she draws aloud, not realizing she's even made the contemplative noise. i'm going to see if i can find some rotting meat. maybe draw it out of your ear that way. ok? she asks him, hoping that he will just have to trust her. to return. to not mess up his hearing ...if her desperate last resort plan needed to be turned to.

nanowrimo: 392