A birdcall signalled the return to normalcy as Cali’s scream faded away, swallowed up by the vastness of the jungle. Moments later, the vibrations stopped. Hope, which the footsteps had nourished, guttered. Odourless, tasteless and pitch-black, the moment seemed to stretch on into infinity, ephemeral, grounded only by the rubbery pull of tissue against skin and muted jungle sounds. Agonizing seconds ticked by. With a tug, the vibrations resumed; they were approaching. Whatever they were, she’d caught their attention.

As the steps got closer, and closer, her spongy prison began to deform. Pain blossomed from Cali’s ankle as it twisted. Startled, Cali yelped. She felt the vibration of retreating footsteps. Damn, had she scared them away? No, the tissue around her was still taut with the weight of a creature. Several moments passed; the creature resumed its approach.

Her spongy prison contorted around her. Cali pursed her lips. Her eyes watered. The pain was tolerable. It had to be. If she cried out again, she might scare off the remaining one. Soon it was on top of her, poking and prodding at her prison. Cali froze. Would movement scare it off? Better to play it safe and remain still. Its investigation stopped, followed by distorted words in an unfamiliar tongue. It could talk! Cali opened her mouth and...

The tissue around her went slack; then, white hot pain. A sharp prick. Instincts drove her body to jerk away. A useless reflex, trapped as she was; and yet, her prison, weakened by the knife, tore. With a THUNK, the knife imbedded itself in the wood beneath her. In passing, the blade sliced across the back of her neck, leaving a long angry gash. The movement had saved her life.

Wait, she could move!?

Atop her, Cali felt the creature scrambling to yank its blade from the trunk. Beneath it, she shifted, rolling onto her back. The sudden change in its footing caused the creature to topple. Seizing the opportunity, Cali blindly lashed out with her feet. A foot hit the creature with a satisfying thud.

No longer trapped, Cali sprang to her feet, hands dashing the sticky tree ichor from her eyes. Her survival depended on being able to see!

Cali’s eyes snapped open. After hours in darkness, the light was blinding; her vision swam with spots. Even with her vision muddled, she could make out the shape of a short, horned figure sinking into the tree. Trapped. It wasn’t an immediate threat. Thank goodness.

While she took a moment to steady herself, her eyes adjusted to the dim forest light.

Hot blood trickled down her neck. There was a lot, but she’d been lucky, a few millimetres forward and... she didn’t want to think about it.

Fingers probed the cut; it wasn’t shallow. It needed to be washed and dressed, which meant using up her canteen. Fuck. Cali poured water over the gash. The water fell from the cut as a reddish-gold admixture of blood and dissolved tree ichor. She cleaned the cut until the gold tinge disappeared from the water, and her canteen was empty. A strip of fabric from her tank top served as a temporary bandage for the wound. She’d make a more permanent dressing later, but the pressure would limit the bleeding for now.

Once her most pressing concern was dealt with, she turned her attention to the lump across from her. The antlered creature had completely disappeared into the branch. Floating atop the lump were a pair of curious webbed shoes, fashioned from bark. Cali thought they rather resembled old-fashioned snow shoes. Perhaps the shoes were what enabled the creature to traverse the branches without getting trapped.

Cali leaned over and plucked the shoes from the branch. She was careful not to move from where she stood. Although she was ankle-deep in ichor, the wood beneath was solid and offered comparative safety from the branches’ sticky trap. The shoes were the same length as hers, though twice as wide. A bit small for snowshoes, but she’d have to make do. Looping the corded straps around her ankles, she tied the bark shoes to the bottoms of her boots. Cali took a tentative step with one foot onto an unsullied portion of the branch. It didn’t sink or stick. Perfect, the bark shoes worked.

Cali weighed her options. She’d felt one of the creatures run away. Had it gone for help? It seemed probable; the creatures could talk after all. If more were coming, she couldn’t afford to delay; she needed to decide on a course of action. Either, she could leave the creature trapped, or she could free it.

She didn’t feel bad for the creature. Sentient or no, it had just tried to kill her while she was helpless. As far as she was concerned, it deserved to be eaten by the tree. Also, if she freed it, it might attack her again.

Emotionally, leaving the creature to suffer was the more satisfying option. However, the more rational part of her mind rebelled against the idea. The creature could speak. It was a potential source of life saving information. And Cali was prepared for a language barrier. As part of her preparations for Llyr, she’d developed a custom translation spell; it not only translated, but cemented the language in her memory as she was exposed to it. She was rather proud of her creation. It was an ideal formulae for starting a new life on a new world.

There was a wrinkle, however. Getting information from this creature required using magic again. She had hoped to delay further experimentation with magic until she was somewhere safer. If the side effects were more severe than paresthesia and weariness, she could find herself in a serious situation. There was no helping it though, she needed information.

Cali traced the formulae in the air, whispering the incantation as she went. A glowing crimson ball appeared, and flew down her throat.

Cali spluttered and coughed as the magic entered her body. She’d expected it, not having found a way to alleviate the unpleasant feeling that accompanied the spell. As the magic coursed through her, her right arm began to tingle with sharp pins and needles. Curious. It was back to affecting only her right arm again.

Ideally, Cali would like to have liked to speak to em while e was still trapped. But she knew from personal experience that the tissue distorted words, which would impede communication. So she’d have to free em and trust she could handle any hostility.

Now fully prepared, Cali retrieved the creature’s bone knife from the tree and began to cut away the tissue trapping the creature. In a few moments she’d cut a wide arc though the tissue. Once e was freed, the creature sat bolt upright.

Es appearance was... unexpected. The pair of short antlers weren’t a surprise, nor the long curved ears or the deer-like face, with a short muzzle and dark doe-like eyes. After all, she had seen es antlered silhouette before e sank into the trap. Indeed, even es height didn’t surprise her. When e stood, hauling itself from the ichor, e was only two and a half feet tall from the tip-top of its antlers to es hooves. No. What surprised her about the creature was, despite es animal-like appearance, es skin was the colour and texture of birch bark.

The creature stared back at her, confusion evident on es face. “You’re kith!?”

Kith? Cali didn’t recognize that word. Perhaps it was a native word lacking an appropriate translation. Knitting her brows, she focused on the threads of magic still reverberating through her. It took effort to reshape the magic to provide definitions, but her impromptu modification worked. The magic supplied a definition where her brain had not.

Kith - 1) Kinsfolk, neighbour or relation.

          2) Humanoid creatures.

She released the threads of magic, refocusing on the scene before her.

The small creature was doubled over, a small pool of vomit at es feet. E muttered “By the oath, I nearly killed kith.”

Cali was rather grateful she’d been distracted for the whole spectacle; watching anything vomit turned her stomach. E definitely wasn’t a threat now. Es words even suggested that the attempted homicide was a mistake.

Cali began to speak. The foreign words felt funny in her mouth, like chewing on cotton. “I’ve got a few questions.”

The little creature looked up from the puddle of vomit. E wiped away some remnants from es muzzle before replying, “I can answer your questions, kith. And apologize. I should na have harmed you.”

“You have a name? Feels weird asking questions without it.” Her gaze was focused on es face. With such unfamiliar anatomy she found the expressions difficult to parse, but es contrition and willingness to answer questions felt genuine.

The little creature stood up straighter, and puffed out es chest. “Fen. Cysug Warder Fen.” Fen’s words were spoken with reverence.

“Cali,” she replied. “Are there other kith around here, Fen?” While she spoke, a subtle tug at her mind informed her that, Cysug referred to the type of tree she was standing on.

Fen looked at her with an odd expression, maybe incredulousness. Had she asked an odd question? “Kith like you?” E asked.

Cali nodded.

Had her question been a potential landmine? This was why she needed information ASAP; she couldn’t afford many mistakes.

“No. Only the spreiban,” e gestured to emself. “Most Kith avoid...” Fen gesticulated at the branches that made up the canopy around them. “Too dangerous.”

Her translation magic informed her that spreiban referred to es species. As for es gesture... “Avoid the forest, the branches or both?”

“Both.” E continued, eyes alight. “Yet you’ve come. Why? Where from?”

Neither was a question she wanted to answer. Maybe she could deflect. “I believe you were answering my questions. Where am I?”

Fen snorted, es bristles twitching. “You dunna know the heartwood?”

Cali brushed aside the question with another of her own. “And the world’s name?”

“Ancients called em Llyr. Now e is silent, so spreiban call em not at all.”

It was Llyr! She’d confirmed part of her hypothesis. Although, between the ancients, and a silent living planet, there was a lot to unpack in that statement. She’d have to figure out the implications later; Fen was already staring at her expectantly.

“Any dangers I should keep an eye out for?” She looked down, and corrected herself. “Any other dangers?”

“So many questions! Come to the enclave, you may speak with the primeval ones, get answers.” Fen reached out es hands towards her.

Cali wasn’t sure what the gesture was supposed to mean. A sign of welcoming perhaps? “Enclave? Is that where you live?”

Fen nodded.

Fen seemed harmless enough now, but would es kin really welcome her into their enclave? Perhaps this was all a trap. “Do you promise I won’t be harmed at the enclave?”

At her question Fen’s face contorted in absolute horror, readable even with es alien anatomy. “Yes, yes, yes! Harming kith is taboo, the clan would never. You’ll be our guest.”

Es revulsion was convincing. E really didn’t mean her any harm.

She eyed her ichor covered clothes; as a guest maybe they’d help her get clean and patched up? If the enclave also provided information and a chance to trade for supplies, she’d be a fool to turn em down. “I’ll follow you,” she said.

“Not enough Cysug shoes.” E gestured to the bark shoes she had lashed to her feet.

Es earlier gesture made sense now, e needed her to carry em. She bent down, placed her hands under es armpits and hoisted em into the air. Es skin even felt like birch bark.

The pair moved forward, Fen pointing es arm in a direction, and Cali following the path of es finger. Fen was so small and light, Cali felt like she was carrying a toddler. Or at least, how she imagined carrying a toddler would feel. She’d never done so before.

As she walked, she considered her three priorities. Shelter, sustenance, information. The enclave seemed to promise all three, but she doubted it would be a panacea for all her worries. After all, if the enclave was built for creatures like Fen, she rather doubted she could even fit in their shelters. And more worrying, Fen’s skin was like tree bark; did spreiban even eat food? Most trees photosynthesized. She might need her supplies. She hoped they hadn’t been damaged or destroyed by the ichor.

The two walked in silence for a while before Fen piped up, perhaps sensing her unease. “The enclave is a good place, with many friends and wise kin. You’ll get answers to all your questions. The primeval ones will to see that.”

Es chatter left Cali with as many questions at it answered. Who or what were the primeval ones? Would they know what had happened to the ancients? Fen had mentioned that kith like her didn’t come to the heartwood. Would the primeval ones know where to find more kith, or settlements even?

Actually, there was a more pressing concern; if Fen’s curiosity was at all representative of spreiban, then she would need a good story to explain her presence here. The truth risked complicating matters, unless... she could embellish it.