Apocalypsis 01 - Kahayatle

his nose.   “I will learn how to sleep like dis, den.”
    I went to run after him, but he took off, getting far ahead of me in seconds.   The guy had some seriously long legs.   Buster went barking after him, probably thinking Bodo was doing it just to play a game with him.   I gave up the chase quickly and came back to the hut, throwing my stuff down on the ground again.  
    Peter eyed me warily, trying hard to erase the smile from his face.
    “I’m glad you think my being without a shower and suffering the natural consequences of it is so funny.   You don’t smell so hot yourself, you know.”
    “I know.   I’m just playing with you, Bryn.   It’s funny to watch you get all mad for some reason.”
    “Nice,” I said sarcastically, now totally giving up on finding any underwear.   I was just getting ready to pick it up to zip it, when I saw something move out of the corner of my eye.   I looked up quickly, expecting to see one of the indians out in the trees, but there was no one there.
    I walked over and nudged Peter on the arm, gesturing casually with my hand as I zipped up my backpack.   “Do you see anything over there?” I asked quietly.
    Peter looked over to where I had pointed.   “No.   Where?”
    “Between those trees - the ones that look like they have faces on them.”
    Peter shook his head.   “I don’t see anything but tree trunks, branches, and leaves.”
    “Huh,” I said, wondering if I’d been imagining things or if someone was spying on us.   I wouldn’t put it past them; we were strangers after all.   And they’d done a great job of hiding eleven people from my not very observant eyes earlier, so it was entirely possible there was an entire contingent of Miccosukee watching us right now, and we’d never know.   It crossed my mind that I should have traded some of my training for lessons in how to hide and sneak around, Miccosukee-style.  
    “Okay, Bryn,” said Peter, ignoring my paranoia and walking over to the shelves that were now covered in our food.   “I have organized our pantry.   There are canned goods down here, chips here, water here, and miscellaneous here.”   He smiled proudly.   “Home sweet home.”
    I walked over and pulled a can of beans off the shelf and put them up with the chips.   “What happens if I do this?”
    Peter frowned at me.   “Then I do this,” he said sassily, moving the beans back to their original shelf, turning the label so it faced out, perfectly straight.
    “And what happens if I do this?” I asked, quickly grabbing two cans of beans, putting one with the chips and one with the water.   I finished by tipping one of the bottles over on its side.
    Peter crossed his arms.   “Do you really want to go there with me?   Seriously?”
    I smiled.   “Sometimes, yeah, I do.   You’re fun to rile up.”
    “So are you, Smellykins, so you’d better not start a war you might lose.”
    “What did you just call me?” I asked in mock outrage.
    “You heard me … Smellykins!”
    I rushed over and started tickling him, pleased to find that he was amazingly sensitive, especially around the ribcage.   He was shrieking with laughter that sounded so much like a five-year-old girl I couldn’t help but laugh myself.   Eventually I had to quit attacking him because I was too weak from my own hysteria to continue.
    Bodo came back to find us sitting on the floor, holding our stomachs.
    I looked up when I saw him approach, a huge smile left over from our tickle fest on my face; but it slowly melted off as my eyes feasted on the glorious Bodo before me.
    He’d found the shower and used it well.   No more dirt, no more matted hair, and no more shirt.   Bodo had been hiding a six-pack and a seriously nice set of pecs under all of it, and I was having a hard time breathing just looking at him.   I prayed Coli and none of her tribeswomen were around, because a big part of me right now didn’t want anyone but me seeing this vision of utter hotness.
    Peter tried to say something, but it came out as something sounding like, “Gah!” and then he started choking.   I whacked him on the back a few times, my eyes never leaving Bodo’s chest.  
    “Holy hell, Bodo,” I said before I could stop myself.
    “What?” he asked innocently.   I looked up at his face and saw that he was totally aware of what he was doing to poor Peter.   And probably to me, too.
    “You know exactly what.   Put a damn shirt on, before Peter