Day eight.  Saw two very different things today and wanted to write them down.

First - or rather second, I guess - well, later in the afternoon, I came across some of the men (none of whom, to my memory, were officers) playing some sort of ball game.  From what I can tell, it is similar to soccer, with several other sports thrown in.  There's also a second ball, which makes it rather chaotic just to watch; I can't imagine how it must be playing the game itself, but they all seemed to know exactly what was going on - for the most part.  I'm not even going to attempt describing it here; I'd have to watch another game to even get my bearings better.

I must say, though, I was really impressed with some of the athleticism shown.  I mean, I guess they are soldiers after all, so you expect them to be fit, but I know that it's not always the case even with the army back home, and I thought that some historical armies were even less fit due to... well, I'm not sure actually, maybe from having to pick a larger portion of the population, or having less regimented training regimes, or something along those lines.

Anyway, it was a pretty good group playing - it started off with twelve soldiers, six a side, but grew to about sixteen as I watched.  The falcon guy - actually, I guess he looked more like a red-tailed hawk - had some contraption on his wings, apparently to keep him from using them during the game.  I guess having flight would give him an unfair advantage as it would let him take the ball (rather, one of the balls) above the other players, and flight is faster than running anyway.  The definitely is an aerial advantage to be had in this game, as the red panda, who happened to be the best jumper on the field, seemed to complete the most passes.

Most of the players were canine, which is generally true for the army here as a whole.  The "star players" on each side of the field appeared to me as a very interestingly colored fox - I feel like I've seen the pattern back home, but I'm not sure and don't remember the name for it anyway - who was very nimble in general and accurate with the balls and a wolf who just was bigger, faster, and stronger than just about anyone else on the field.  (There was a brown bear playing, but he certainly wasn't fast, and if he was strong it didn't show as well since he simply couldn't get his balls to connect to teammates).  There was also this mutt (that's really all I can call him, mostly brown short-ish fur with a splotch or two of darker brown, I mean no offense) who just impressed me with his gutsiness, willing to throw himself into each play, winning balls, and in general creating good chances to score - at least if I've understood scoring correctly.  He also looks like he's got a batch of semi-fresh scars, which is equally respectable in its own right.  It actually looked like it unnerved a few other players, but he seemed like he didn't care at all that his body was marked.  He certainly wasn't hiding it - he was on the "skins" team as they had split up "shirts and skins".

...I guess it would be more appropriate to have called it "tunics and furs" in this case...  Anyway, it was an entertaining game to watch with all of its action, despite (or maybe because of?) the fact that I had almost no clue what was going on.

One other thing from all that is that I guess whatever stresses there are between this army and their opponent, they must be rather low at the moment if the mood in camp has relaxed to the point where more complex, physically involved recreation merits to reprimand from officers or fellow soldiers.

The mood, for me at least, was very different during my walk earlier in the day, before lunch.  I have my normal walking route through camp that I go on, but I try taking little expeditions off of it each time as well.  This morning I had apparently walked over to the area where they were keeping prisoners.  Other prisoners, I guess I should say...

I'm surprised I hadn't seen or even heard them at all over the week I've been here so far; about half of them were doing grunt work of some sort.  All of them were obviously underfed and chained to something - a post, a tree, one or more weights, each other, etc.  They all also had an anklet on, similar to the one clasped around my own ankle.  I haven't seen any officers or soldiers with those on, and I had wondered why I was the only one.  Well, it appears I wasn't the only one, that's why.

Most of them seemed to be feline of some sort.  The lions and tigers there appeared to be especially angry at their situation, but obviously also completely dropped into submission.  It probably "helped" in the lions' cases that their manes had been shaven off entirely, and not in a neat way either.  I felt really sorry for the lone cheetah there, who was chain-partnered to one of the tigers; the spotted one was noticeably thin, and it looked like there was some swelling around his right eye.  I realized it's impossible to simply see a bruise if everything is covered with fur.

Felines weren't the only ones, of course - I saw some otters, a meerkat, other weasel-like things, and some jackals.  It didn't matter, they all stared at me, especially after some noticed my anklet.  I made sure to move along relatively soon.

-------

Day nine.  Hurt on several accounts.

So, this morning on my walk, I saw some of the men playing that ball game again.  Mostly the same group of soldiers; I recognized everyone I had mentioned in writing yesterday, as well as a few others.  They played "tunics and furs" again, with the players I recognized on the same "teams" as before, so I wonder if they have a fun rivalry or a miniature "league" that keeps everyone on the same teams.  Either that, or a single "match" includes several "games" that they're just playing over separate days?  I would need to watch more.

The watcher was also watched, though; several of the players noticed it was my second day observing them.  At an extended break in play when a handful of them got water (at least I assume it was water) from their canteens, I noticed the mutt trying to make eye contact with me.  When he achieved that, he started trying to wave me up off stump I was watching from to join in.  I attempted waving him off and shaking my head, starting a short war of motions until he finally sighed and stopped, despite having gotten some reinforcements.

A moment later I noticed his gaze shift, and it took me a moment to realize he was looking behind me.  Before I could turn to look, a pair of large paws grabbed my shoulders and hoisted me up to my feet; it was the wolf from yesterday, who had a hearty (and friendly) laugh at what must have been quite the bewildered look on my face.  The lupine frogmarched me over to where the two teams were gathered, then nudged me over to the "tunics" team as he stripped his own top off.

My "new team" seemed to enjoy my inclusion, even if only in amusement, and tried talking/miming me through what to do before play restarted.  I failed miserably, of course, though I would like to think it wasn't because of rule mistakes (surprisingly).  I was just slow and uncertain, and would lose possession of the ball very quickly if I didn't simply try to pass it off as soon as I could.

My time on the field ended when the mutt and I collided, with him elbowing (or kneeing) me in the gut somehow during the ensuing tumble, completely taking the wind out of me.  I was on the ground curled up in the foetal position and wheezing for a minute or two with a couple of the guys looking over me, Mutt off to the side obviously feeling guilty.  The hawk helped me to my feet when I was eventually ready and helped me stagger back to my tent.

So that was not very enjoyable.  But earlier in the morning I suffered something more visible and arguably more painful (it still stings) - and entirely my fault.

After nine days in this army camp with essentially medieval technology, my face has become rather scruffy.  I have not observed anyone here shaving, but considering everyone here is supposed to be entirely covered with fur (or not have hair of any sort), it makes sense that no-one ever would shave.  This left me in quite a conundrum as my chin and neck irritated me.

I wandered around and managed to communicate to one of Kallik's squad members that I wanted a sharp knife, and once I received it I went down to the creek running along one edge of the encampment.  Wetting my face was obviously easy; using the stream as a mirror was most definitely not.  I thought I was doing an okay job until I realized the blade was starting to turn a bit red.  I had razed off a patch of skin on my right cheek and cut a nice gash in my chin below.  I stopped before continuing to the other side or going further down.  The worst(?) thing is that I really wasn't all that successful in actually shaving off the offending whiskers anyway...

But that's that, I guess.  Now, my stomach is now calling out to me, so I shall go collect myself some sustenance from supplies for lunch.