Page 8 of Gentle Warrior

Bear nodded and took a spot near the entrance with Link, Rhys, and Sammy. Link cracked open a bottle of water, taking slow sips as he scanned the surroundings. Rhys unwrapped a protein bar, nibbling thoughtfully while keeping his eyes sharp. Sammy stretched his legs out, chewing slowly on a piece of jerky. They settled on the damp earth, silent and alert, giving Flora room while keeping watch.

Inside, Flora moved slowly, her body language soft and deliberate to avoid startling Nancy. She began her assessment quietly, glancing over Nancy’s breathing and subtle responses before focusing on her leg. “Nancy, I’m Flora. I’m a doctor. You’re safe here. I’m going to help you now.”

Nancy’s eyes flickered briefly toward Flora but quickly dropped to the cave floor. Her humming pulsed softly—a low, even tone steadying like a metronome. As Flora knelt closer to examine the injured leg, the hum shifted slightly, a subtle rise and fall that hinted at her growing unease.

Flora kept her voice steady and soothing. “Your leg’s broken, but I’ll be very gentle. I’m going to make it better, okay? You just hold on a little longer.” She carefully wrapped Nancy’s leg with an inflatable splint that she had in her kit, staying mindful of Nancy’s small movements and the rhythm of her humming.

While Flora carefully tended to Nancy, Bear’s eyes drifted to the tote tucked away in the dark corner of the cave. Drawn by a mix of curiosity and quiet hope, he crouched down and edged closer. The hard plastic container was weathered and scratched, its surface worn from years exposed to the elements. The lid was slightly open, inviting a careful look inside.

Bear lifted the lid gently. Inside, he found carefully packaged food—protein bars and bottled water—along with several folded blankets. Nestled among these were several books of poetry and a collection of notebooks that looked like journals. Nearby sat a box of colored pencils, the colors still vibrant despite some smudges and wear.

The supplies showed signs of recent use, fresh enough to suggest Nancy relied on them during her time here. Yet the container itself seemed older, the kind of worn gear left behind long before Nancy had made this spot her refuge.

The discovery deepened the mystery in Bear’s mind. Nancy hadn’t simply wandered aimlessly into the woods. She had prepared. She had carved out a small sanctuary on her own terms—a place shaped by careful thought and quiet resilience, adapting and surviving with the few resources she could find.

As Flora gently eased Nancy into a seated position, a faint sound drifted through the quiet—the soft, steady hum of a melody. Bear glanced over and noticed Nancy’s fingers lightly tapping on her thigh, perfectly in rhythm with the tune. Her eyes were distant, focused on something only she could hear.

He looked toward Flora, and the memory of one of the team’s old BBQs came to him, the time he’d overheard Flora and Moose talking quietly about Moose’s mom. Back then, Flora had mentioned they suspected she might be on the spectrum, not “retarded” or any of the harsh words some around their hometown used. The thought offered a quiet understanding as he watched Nancy with renewed insight.

Link frowned. “She’s humming.”

Flora nodded quietly. “It’s a coping mechanism. A way to comfort herself.”

Nancy didn’t meet their gazes; she seemed wrapped in her own world. The humming continued, a fragile, haunting melody that filled the cool cave air. When they tried to engage her, she subtly resisted—no answers to questions, no response to voices. Instead, she rocked gently, hands folded in her lap, as if the music was her anchor.

Bear exchanged a look with Flora. “She’s not ignoring us. This is something else. Probably doesn’t handle strangers or sudden changes well.”

Flora’s voice dropped to a calm, steady tone. “I suspect we’ll find that Nancy has high-functioning autism and non-verbal. People like her often find safety in patterns. Music helps regulate overwhelming emotions and keeps the world from feeling too harsh.”

“We’ll respect her space,” Bear said firmly. “No pushing. Safe and comfortable first.”

Link glanced toward Flora, concern flickering in his eyes. “Do you think we can get her out without upsetting her? Should I hold off on calling the helicopter? Maybe we should carry her through ourselves.”

Flora met his gaze “Honestly, carrying her out might be better. The noise and chaos of a helicopter could traumatize her more than help. We need to keep things as familiar and quiet as possible. We’ll take it slow and watch how she reacts. Her calm is the priority.”

Bear nodded firmly, feeling the weight of the responsibility. “We adapt as we go. No sudden moves. Nancy’s comfort comes first.”

He turned to Rhys and Sammy. “You two, find long, sturdy branches—something strong enough to carry her weight. We’re building a travois to get her out gently.”

Rhys and Sammy nodded promptly, already scanning the woods for suitable wood.

With the branches brought back, Bear and Rhys set to work, using rope from their packs to lash the frame together. Bear coached Rhys patiently, as they created a stable but comfortable support, a makeshift stretcher tailored for Nancy’s needs.

As they gently lifted Nancy onto the travois, Bear moved with care, ensuring she felt secure without any rush. Flora stayed close, whispering soft, calming words to ease her anxiety and offer reassurance.

As they began moving Nancy carefully, Bear noticed a subtle shift. Nancy’s humming changed pitch, rising slightly when her eyes suddenly locked onto Rhys. For the first time since they found her, there was a flicker of recognition—something deeper, quieter, but unmistakable—in her gaze.

Rhys caught the moment too. He froze, breath catching as their eyes met. Slowly, he offered a calm, reassuring smile and spoke softly. “My name is Rhys. I know your son, Mikey.”

Bear watched the exchange with hope stirring inside him. In that fragile connection, he sensed a bridge starting to form.

“Alright, Nancy,” Bear said quietly. “We’re gonna take you home now. One step at a time.”

Link and Sammy positioned themselves smoothly on either side, lifting the travois while Bear stayed alert, scanning their surroundings every step of the way. The journey back to Jim’s farm was slow but steady. Bear maintained a calm rhythm, mindful of Nancy’s comfort and the delicate balance of keeping her safe without overwhelming her.

Nancy’s eyes, despite her weakened state, frequently found their way to Rhys. She followed him carefully, as if drawing strength from his presence. Noticing this, Flora subtly signaled Rhys to remain within Nancy’s line of sight, knowing the quiet comfort he provided was grounding her amid the uncertainty.

Rhys adjusted his pace accordingly, staying visible but unobtrusive, a steady anchor for Nancy as they made their way back through the rugged terrain.