A young man in ragged clothes suddenly appeared from behind the house, his face indifferent to the appearance of outsiders.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take these two to the west line. Make sure there aren't any herdsman around while you're at it;the son's been particularly stubborn."

"Yes, sir."

The youth was sixteen at most, but held a straighter face than Donovan. Not a word more was uttered as he made his way towards a trail, nor did he look back to make sure they were following. After a couple words of thanks to the head of the orchard, Lee and Donovan picked up a brisk pace to catch up.

An endless haze of tree trunks engulfed their vision once more, and the ruby bundles of cherries nestled in the branches gave way to plump, juvenile apricots. Though Leland occasionally gazed on at fallen fruit untouched on the ground, he quickly gave up his temptations with a single glare from Donvan. Avoiding his scrutiny, Leland instead struck up a conversation with their guide.

“So why doesn’t the old man cultivate any cane? I don’t believe I saw any stalks on our way here, either.” Cane was a staple of Syna’s trade and commerce, as it was the main ingredient used to make another mainstay for exports: paper. Being more familiar with inland farms, a crop of purely fruit and nuts wasn’t something he could wrap his head around. The boy that led them, however, gave an unforgiving frown towards Leland’s lack of knowledge.

“Because we live on the border, obviously. We have days less of travel to Anin’s cities than the inland farmers, so our fruit is less likely to be spoiled by the time it arrives. The profit on our fruit is more than enough to avoid the trouble of starting over with cane.”

“Ah, your Anin neighbors must be jealous of your prosperity, then?”

The young man gave an apathetic glance at Leland. An awkward silence rested among the three of them until they finally arrived at a break in the trees. Well before they saw the return of rolling, grassy hills, however, the two visitors noticed a much more alarming sight.

The shade of thick foliage had been completely stripped away into clusters of scorched, naked limbs. Soft shingles of bark turned to cracked grey shells of ash, accompanied by the coarse scent of burnt wood still faintly lingering like a mist over a graveyard. Despite a dusting of ash on the ground and rocks, the stream that marked the edge of the territory bubbled on in pristine shape.

“We burn them when they get too bad to prune.”

Donovan and Leland begin exploring the desolate scar on the orchard, rubbing ash between fingers and kicking leaf litter to get a look at exposed roots. Burnt trees didn’t leave much in the way of evidence. Donovan was just picking up a black lump of fruit for inspection when a series of sharp whistles echoed through the trees.

The guide jerked his head in the direction of the whistles, his eyes narrowing. He hesitates a moment as he looks at the two men.

“I have something I have to take care of. Don’t wander off, don’t get lost.”

Lee scoffed in offense, but before he could retort, the teenager had already disappeared into the maze of trunks. Left to their own devices, Leland immediately begins to follow the stream in the opposite direction.

“These lumps of cinder just won’t do, don’t you think?”

“L...Leland. This isn’t our property.” Donovan paced after him helplessly, knowing his words wouldn’t do a thing to stop him.

Leland shook his head as expected,”We won’t get anything staring at nothing until that brat gets back, and I won’t be so easily turned around as he thinks, either. We’re just following the water!”

Sure enough, the dead trees began to pepper into foliage once more. Their neighboring trees were scarred by severed limbs and harsh pruning, but persevered with whatever bushels of leaves they could manage. Despite all of the orange being purged away, however, ugly cankers still plagued their trunks. Finally satisfied with their line up, Leland approached a tree and began gripping a lower limb to test its strength.

“What are you doing?”

“Climbing a tree, obviously.” With a practiced heave of his arms, he quickly swung his abdomen over the lowest branch before scrambling up to a sitting position. Using it as a spring board, he already started testing for his next rung.

“Are you always this bold?”

"Why, your highness! Whatever do you mean?" Lee smirks as he jostled the tree in his ascent, leaves raining down on Don.

"Aren't you afraid of falling?"

"That's a silly question, sir prince. Haven't you ever climbed a tree?"

"Once…. "

"And were you afraid?"

"I-"

They’re interrupted by the approach of noise from the fields, the soft rumble of baas announcing the arrival of first one, then two, then more sheep on the top of the nearest hill. They spilled into the green grass like a glass of milk, pouring towards the edge of the stream before lining up in single file to take a drink.

“Up, up, up!” Sliding back down a couple of branches, Leland extends a hand just in reach of Donovan. Rather than clasp arms right away, however, the prince furrowed his brows.

“What’s the point of-”

“Just get up here, quickly, quickly!” Hearing a distant exchange of words, Leland rushed forward with his waist anchored on a split in the trunk. Using all of his upper body strength, he snatched a grasp on one of Donovan’s arms and pulled, giving the other no choice but to comply. His arrival onto the first level was less than graceful, shoes scraping desperately for hold on the side of the tree. With a few more tugs from Leland, he finally steadied on the limb before joining him on a higher branch. Just as the leaves began to settle from the disturbance, the laughter of men broke through the bellows of the herd.