CHAPTER 5: FIRST LIGHT

Eleanor drifted up from darkness, her consciousness piecing itself back together like a patchwork image slowly coming into focus.

The air felt wrong.

Thicker somehow, carrying scents she now knew weren't just unfamiliar, but were utterly alien — sweet and sharp and green all at once. Her eyes fluttered open to a kaleidoscope of filtered sunlight unlike anything she'd ever seen. And why would she? This wasn't Earth.

Her jaw clenched and she breathed slowly, fighting tears.

The dawn rays seemed to bend differently here, casting purple-tinged shadows through leaves that whispered with voices.

"The sun-sister rises golden today," chirped something far overhead. "Good hunting to all!"

"And to you, wing-friend," answered another voice, melodic and strange.

Their morning greetings and hunting plans filtered through the canopy along with the alien light.

It wasn't the first morning that Eleanor had awoken on this strange planet, but it was the first morning she realized she had, which made all the difference.

How was she going to get home?

Puck's steady pink glow pulsed nearby, a familiar anchor in a sea of strangeness. He dozed on a curved leaf, his tiny form rising and falling with each breath. The silk cocoon he'd woven still wrapped around her like a second skin, surprisingly warm despite its gossamer thinness.

"Careful there, young sprout," murmured a deep voice as something rustled through undergrowth. "Your roots aren't deep enough yet."

"Sorry, elder-oak," came a higher pitched response.

Eleanor's head spun. Trees speaking to saplings? Birds discussing breakfast plans? The very air hummed with consciousness, alive in ways that made her skin prickle.

A shadow fell across the riverbank, accompanied by a noisy rustling. She looked towards the forest and saw a great mammal approaching that looked unlike anything she'd ever seen.

It was striped black and white similar to a skunk, but rather than markings running nose to end, this beast's fur bore horizontal rings that brought to mind a raccoon's banded tail. It walked on all fours and had the bearing and gait of a badger. Its eyes were a bright, ruby red, and across its muzzle ran three ugly scars, as if something larger had swiped it across the face long ago.

Eleanor blinked again, now noticing that it was carrying what looked to be her lost clothing in its teeth.

Beside her, Puck stirred, his glow shifting to a brightening pink. Puck zipped upright, instantly awake.

"Oh! Good morning, Albstat."

The creature dropped Eleanor's clothes in a neat pile beside her. Through the silk cocoon, she could make out the tattered remnants of her favorite shirt, the fabric shredded by branches and rocks during their escape. Her jeans hadn't fared much better.

"I 'spose you'll be needing these back, youngin'," the creature growled, its voice surprisingly gentle despite its gruff tone. "Name's Albstat. Zigzagoon of these parts. Puck here says you can understand us?"

"Yes. Thank you. " Eleanor clutched the silk tighter, nodding tightly as she sat up. "I'm Eleanor."

Albstat's scarred face softened.

"River's dangerous this time of year. Lucky you made it." He paused, nose twitching. "Got a den nearby. Dried your clothes off over yonder."

"Albstat saw us yesterday when you fell in the river. You wouldn't wake up after climbing onto the shore and he saw me trying to move you. He came over and helped me drag you further from the river, then he said you needed your clothes taken off so you wouldn't freeze!" Puck said in a single, excited breath. "He's very wise, Eleanor!" Turning to the striped beast, Puck began to flitter about, pulsing happily. "Thank you again, Albstat!"

Eleanor examined her ruined clothes. The purple roses on her shirt were barely recognizable, torn across the middle. One sleeve hung by threads. Mom had bought her that shirt last Christmas.

"The clothes... they're important to you?" Albstat asked, noting her expression.

"They're from home," Eleanor whispered.

Puck's glow shifted to a soft purple-blue and he fell silent.

"Ah." Albstat's red eyes held unexpected understanding. "Well then, we'll save what we can. But first, get dressed. Can't have you catching cold." He turned, indicating they should follow. "My den's not far. And I've got breakfast — if you like berries and roots, that is."

The mention of food made Eleanor's stomach growl loudly. Despite her sadness over the clothes, she dressed as best as she could, making the other two turn around before she would creep out from under her silk cocoon. When she'd pulled the last button through, she turned and put on a smile for Puck, who hovered nearby in fretful silence.

At the mouth of Albstat's den, Eleanor picked at the berries he'd laid out, their sweet-tart juice staining her fingers purple.

"Been watching the human settlements grow," Albstat said between bites of his own breakfast. "They're building proper towns now, got their own ways. Might be best if you found your way to them." His tone carried no malice, just the same matter-of-fact delivery he'd used to describe the river earlier. "Humans don't belong in the woods, 'specially not the youngins' like yourself."

He snorted as he said 'humans', and Eleanor had the impression that 'humans' didn't rate very high in Albstat's mind. Puck's gentle pink glow shifted instantly to a deep red. He darted between Eleanor and Albstat, wings humming with agitation.

"Eleanor isn't just any human. She's—"

"I understand." Eleanor's quiet voice cut through Puck's protest. She set down the half-eaten berry, carefully wiping her hands on what remained of her jeans. Mom had taught her to always leave with dignity, even when unwelcome.

"You've been very kind," she said, rising slowly. Her legs still trembled from yesterday's ordeal, but she kept her chin high. "We should go."

"Now," Albstat's whiskers twitched, "I didn't mean—"

"It's alright." Eleanor managed a small smile, though it didn't reach her eyes. "You're probably right. Humans shouldn't be here."

Puck's glow pulsed between angry red and upset blue as he hovered close to Eleanor's shoulder. His tiny form cast shifting shadows across her face.

"Thank you for the breakfast," Eleanor said, already backing toward the river, away from the homely earthen entrance that Albstat guarded. "And for saving my clothes."

She turned and ducked through the shrubs that sheltered the opening, emerging into the morning light. Behind her, she heard Puck's bell-like voice, sharp with disappointment. "She's different. You just can't see it."

Once again they were alone.

----------------------------------------

Eleanor crouched at the edge of a small clearing, her eyes scanning the space like her cousins had taught her, before they'd called her bookworm or nerd and given her up as a lost cause. A fallen log stretched across one end of the clearing. Its massive trunk split on one end, revealing a hollowed out natural shelter within. Thick moss draped over the bark like a green blanket.

Puck darted ahead, sweeping low over the ground in a zigzag pattern. His pink glow illuminated dark spaces beneath ferns and between rocks. No surprises waiting there.

She picked her way forward, stepping where Puck had already checked. Her feet found quiet spots between dry leaves, though she still managed to snap the occasional twig. The clearing felt right — backed by a steep rise, with thick undergrowth providing cover on two sides.

"Three ways out," she whispered, pointing. Puck bobbed in agreement, already checking the escape routes. She'd learned that lesson the hard way yesterday.

The log itself was perfect. Rain had carved a hollow beneath one end, creating a space just big enough for her to crawl into if needed. Thick branches still clung to the trunk, forming a natural lattice that would break up her outline.

Eleanor circled the area twice more, copying the careful way she'd seen deer move through the woods. Her steps were getting better, even if she still sometimes caught her sleeve on thorns or misjudged the height of a branch.

Puck finished his own inspection, settling on her shoulder with a satisfied chime. His warm glow cast friendly shadows across their new sanctuary. Together they'd found good shelter — not perfect maybe, but safe enough for now.

She reached up to touch his wing gently, their silent signal for 'well done.' He responded by briefly intensifying his pink glow, their private way of saying 'thank you.'

Eleanor had insisted they practice a more silent version of communicating, afraid that the catlike monster from yesterday would find a way to hunt them still. She knew they'd need something better than talking in whispers that could be overheard, or worse, would reveal their hiding place.

They had agreed on a few signals, most involving touch or gestures from Eleanor, and pulses of light from Puck.

Puck informed her that they had crossed to the other side of the river during their ordeal. If the cat was still hunting them, then it would have to find safe a way across the raging waters or suffer the same fate. It made Eleanor just the tiniest bit more comfortable. She was glad a powerful river separated her and that evil, feline monster.

Eleanor settled against the log, pulling her knees to her chest. Her clothes clung uncomfortably, the fit of them ruined by rips and broken seams, but the morning sun promised warmth. Puck hovered at eye level, his pink glow steady and bright.

They sat in silence for a time, both lost in thought.

"Eleanor."

"Mmm?"

"You said," Puck started, then stopped. He shifted uncomfortably and seemed to think hard before continuing on in a tiny voice. "Yesterday, on the river bank, you said…that you weren't from here. That you were from somewhere else. Far away."

"Earth."

Could she talk about this? Her throat already felt tight and her eyes began to swim with the hot burn of tears. She swiped the back of her hand across them and took a deep breath. It didn't matter if she could or not. They needed to talk about this. It was time they discussed things properly.

"I'm from a place called Earth."

"Is it…far?"

"…I think it's somewhere very far. A different planet, in a different part of outer space." She pointed vaguely up at the sky.

Puck seemed to jerk in surprise.

"How did you get all the way here? Did you fall off your planet and land on this one somehow? You can't fly, can you? No, that's a stupid question, sorry. If you could fly then yesterday you would have—" He stopped abruptly, looking down in shame.

Eleanor tried to block out thoughts of the river. She'd always hated water but yesterday…

Her mind started to go hazy around the edges with remembered panic.

The water, it was making everything go dark. She was going to die, it was so cold, she was—

"What's Earth like?"

"Bwuh?" Eleanor stared at Puck in confusion, breathing heavily. When had she closed her eyes? She looked down at her trembling hands and tried to still them.

"Earth. What's it like there? Does your forest look like this one?"

"….City."

"Sorry, what?"

"I don't," Eleanor gulped, trembling tapering off, breathing coming easier. "I don't live in a forest. Me and Mom live in a big city called Seattle."

"What's a city? Is it different than a forest?"

"Very."

"How so?

"Well, back home we have these huge buildings called skyscrapers." Eleanor stretched her arm up high. "They're taller than the biggest trees, made of steel and glass. At night, they light up like stars."

Puck's color shifted to a curious mauve.

"How do humans climb them?"

"We have special boxes called elevators that carry us up and down. Like..." Eleanor searched for the right comparison. "Like being lifted by a wings, except it's a machine."

"Ma-sheen?" Puck tested the word, his antennae twitching.

"Machines are things we humans build to help us. Like buses, which transport people around so they don't have to walk, and which use special water called gas to make them move."

Puck's glow flickered rapidly between colors as he processed this.

"Are there many creatures like me there?"

"No." Eleanor's smile faded slightly. "Actually, on Earth animals can't talk or make threads that disappear or use colorful lights like you can. They're beautiful and special, but they're just regular animals without powers like that."

"No lights at all?" Puck's glow dimmed to a concerned purple.

"Well, we have some creatures that light up, like squids, I think." Eleanor allowed. "We even have birds and butterflies, but they're not magical like you. Nothing thinks like a person or speaks the way you and all these other animals do." She reached up to touch his wing gently. "That's why I was so surprised when you first spoke to me."

"We need different names," Puck chimed thoughtfully. "For here and there."

"Earth is Earth," Eleanor said firmly. "But this place..." She gestured at the forest around them.

"The Forest World?" Puck suggested, his color brightening.

"Perfect! Earth and the Forest World." Eleanor nodded, then added softly, "Though Earth has the best ice cream shops. And libraries full of books. And..." Her voice caught slightly. "And the best Moms."

Puck's glow shifted to a gentle pink as he landed on her shoulder, offering silent comfort.

Eleanor twisted a loose thread from her sleeve. She trusted Puck. He deserved to know the things she was coming to suspect. She took a deep breath to brace herself and finally revealed what had been bothering her ever since they'd entered the observatory days before.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

"My Dad... he was acting strange before I showed up here. My Mom and me don't live with my Dad, you see. They separated a few years ago. Mom says that his heart still loved us, but that his mind needed work and not love. I hadn't seen him in a long time. He was always away when I was really little. I didn't really get to know him until this summer. This summer, my Mom started getting sick." Eleanor's voice cracked, as her mind conjured the last time she'd seen her mother.

Mom's once golden complexion had wasted away. Once full cheeks had become hollow; bright, intelligent eyes now sat in deep shadows betraying the illness that was sapping the very life from her body. Mom had been little more than a frail skeleton, lost in a massive hospital bed.

Somehow Uncle Ben had found out that Eleanor had stopped going to school.

She'd been spending all her days at the hospital with Mom, reading to her from their favorite books in an effort to drown out the terrible beeping of all the machines keeping her alive.

Uncle Ben had pulled her kicking and screaming out of that room and dragged her all the way to his pickup truck in the parking lot. He hadn't let her out for almost sixteen hours. They'd driven straight to Southern Oregon, where he'd tracked down Dad.

Uncle Ben and Dad had an awful shouting match while Eleanor had sat crying in the cab of the truck. She'd wished so hard that she could just go back to Seattle, back to her life the summer before when Mom and her were shopping for houses, when everything was still okay.

Uncle Ben had left and Dad had reluctantly taken over her care. After he'd realized she was old enough to tend to her own needs if he simply provided supplies for her (which was deeply insulting as she obviously wasn't a little baby), he'd been much more okay with her staying.

"On Earth, our skyscrapers and our cities make so much light that at night that it's difficult to study the stars. So there are places where humans all agreed to build no lights, so that the stars can be seen better and astronomers like my Dad can perform big calculations and take very clear pictures of the sky.

"My Dad worked at one of those places. It's a special park called the Dark Sky Reserve. He was an important scientist there." Eleanor hesitated, biting her lip. Should she mention everything? She didn't want Puck to think her Dad was a bad person, especially after those men had called him one and said they needed to catch him.

Puck stared at her with sincere interest, and she couldn't bring herself to lie.

No, if there was anyone she'd met in her life that would listen and try to understand, it was her strange, colorful, flying friend.

"All those papers in his study, the drawing of the hourglass..." Her fingers worked faster at the thread. "He kept talking about finding something. Mom said he was just excited about his research, but—"

Puck's gentle pink glow flickered to an anxious yellow-green. He darted closer to Eleanor's face, then back again, his wings humming faster than usual.

"I think he knew something was going to happen. He kept saying we'd go on an adventure someday, once his research was finished. The night before I woke up here, he finished work early. He never finished work early, Puck. But that night, he did.

"We had dinner together and I felt so lucky. I thought Dad wanted to spend time together like he'd always promised. We ate and he called me his 'little squire', and we looked through his telescope and he was so happy. Dad is never happy. He's only ever serious or busy or sometimes really hyper, but never happy. But that night? He couldn't stop smiling.

"I went to bed feeling so excited. I thought he was changing, I thought things were going to get better. Then I woke up here." Eleanor's voice cracked. "And he was gone."

Puck's color shifted rapidly between concerned purple and fearful yellow. He tried to maintain a steady hover, but his flight pattern became erratic.

"Maybe... maybe he's looking for you? Maybe you'll find each other soon and…"

Eleanor caught the tremor in his bell-like voice, noticed how his glow pulsed with each word. She'd been learning to read these changes. Pink for happiness, red for anger, green only for the worst kinds of stress. But this rapid shifting between colors was new. The way he couldn't quite stay still…

"Puck?" She held out her hand, palm up. He landed but continued to pulse between colors. And suddenly, she knew exactly what was bothering him. "Are you scared I'll leave you once I find him?"

His glow dimmed to a deep blue, almost purple, before he could catch himself. The sight hit Eleanor like sledgehammer. Of course — he'd woken up alone, with no memories, and latched onto the first person he'd found. Just like she had.

"Hey." She cupped her other hand around him gently, creating a safe space. "I won't leave you. Whatever happened with Dad, whatever happens next — we stick together, okay?"

"Promise?" Puck's glow steadied slightly, though it remained a uncertain mix of blue and pink.

"Promise." She meant it with everything she had.

The moment Eleanor's vow left her lips, a soft golden light bloomed between her cupped palms. It pulsed once, twice, like a heartbeat made visible. Puck's own glow shifted to match its rhythm, their lights merging into a single, harmonious radiance.

Warmth spread through Eleanor's hands, up her arms, settling hooks deep in her chest and pouring into the core of her being. It felt like drinking hot chocolate on a winter morning, like Mom's tight hugs, like finding the perfect word in a crossword puzzle — but deeper, more permanent.

Puck trembled in her palms. His wings stilled completely, something she'd never seen while he was awake before. The merged light wrapped around them both like translucent threads, invisible yet tangible, pulling tighter with each pulse.

Eleanor's breath caught as something clicked into place inside her. Not painful, but fundamental — like a key turning in a lock she hadn't known existed. Her awareness of Puck sharpened, crystallized. She could feel his confusion mirroring her own, his wonder tangled with uncertainty.

The light faded slowly, reluctantly, leaving behind a sensation of completion. Of rightness.

Eleanor opened her hands, and Puck drifted upward, his glow cycling through colors she'd never seen him produce before — opalescent whites and deep, rich golds.

"Did you...?" Eleanor's whisper trailed off. How could she ask about something she couldn't even name?

"I felt it too." Puck's tiny limbs quivered. His voice carried new undertones, harmonics that hadn't existed moments before. "Like being wrapped in sunlight."

Eleanor pressed a hand to her chest, where that warm certainty still glowed. The forest around them seemed sharper, more real, as if the world had been slightly out of focus before this moment.

They stared at each other, newly connected yet equally lost. The promise between them had transformed into something tangible, something neither of them fully understood but both could feel with absolute clarity.

A loud gurgle broke the reverent silence. Eleanor clutched her stomach, her cheeks flushing. Puck's glow shifted back to his usual pink, though with subtle golden undertones that hadn't been there before.

"Was that your stomach making those noises?" Puck drifted closer, fascinated. "It sounds angry!"

"My Uncle Ben used to call it belly thunder." Eleanor stood, brushing dirt from her ruined clothes. Her legs felt oddly steady despite everything that had just happened. That warm certainty in her chest remained, but her empty stomach demanded more immediate attention. "We should probably find breakfast."

She took a few experimental steps, testing her balance. The river's roar seemed distant now, more background noise than threat. Morning sunlight filtered through the canopy, casting dappled shadows that danced across the forest floor.

"There's a berry bush I found while you were sleeping," Puck offered, swooping ahead. "This way!"

Eleanor followed, ducking under low-hanging branches. The forest felt different now — not just because of whatever had happened between them, but because she was starting to see it as more than just a place to hide. The trees weren't quite like the ones back home, their bark patterns strange and their leaves an unusual shade of green.

Her stomach growled again, louder this time.

"Your 'thunder' is getting angrier," Puck chimed, his wings humming with amusement.

"Well, then we better hurry before it decides to storm." Eleanor picked up her pace, following the bright spot of Puck's glow through the undergrowth.

The weight of their shared moment stayed with them, but breakfast couldn't wait. Whatever had happened, whatever it meant, they could figure it out after they'd eaten.

----------------------------------------

The berry bush sprawled before them, heavy with clusters that caught the morning light like polished sapphires. Eleanor's steps faltered. These weren't quite blueberries — the shade was deeper, more vibrant, with a silvery sheen that made her mouth water. Her empty stomach clenched, a hollow ache that seemed to reach up through her chest.

She reached out, fingers trembling. The berries felt cool and smooth against her skin, yielding slightly to her touch. The scent hit her then — sweet and fresh, but with an undertone she couldn't place. Something wild, something new.

Hunger clawed at her insides, making her dizzy. She hadn't eaten much at Albstat's den, and her swim in the river and fever throughout the night had burned through so much energy she felt half crazed with the sudden appearance of food.

"They smell amazing," Puck chimed, landing on a nearby branch. He plucked one with his tiny limbs, examining it with bright curiosity.

Eleanor's hesitance vanished.

She grabbed a handful, the juice staining her fingers deep purple as she crushed them slightly. The first berry burst across her tongue — sweeter than any blueberry she'd ever tasted, with a flavor that made her eyes close in pleasure. She swallowed and grabbed more, barely breathing between mouthfuls. She used both hands and ripped them from the branches, hardly chewing, just crushing the berries with her mouth then letting the sweet mush slide down into her empty stomach below.

Handful after handful, until she was forced to slow down or choke.

Puck followed her lead, his glow brightening to a happy pink as he sampled the feast. Berry after berry disappeared until Eleanor's hunger finally subsided, leaving behind a warm contentment. She hadn't felt full since she'd woken up here and her mind felt sharper, her thoughts clearer than they had been in days.

Then memory struck like lightning.

Her mother's voice, from a nature walk years ago: "Every plant can be a medicine, but some medicines can be a poison. It all depends on the dose. This is why we don't eat foods that we don't know, my little butterfly."

Eleanor's hand froze halfway to her mouth, the remaining berries tumbling from suddenly numb fingers. She stared at the purple stains on her skin with growing horror.

This wasn't Earth.

These weren't Earth berries.

What if they were poisonous? She hadn't even stopped to think, she'd just eaten them like an idiot.

Her stomach lurched. She'd been so hungry, so desperate, she hadn't even thought—

"Puck, stop!" Eleanor snapped. She lunged forward, knocking the half eaten berry from his tiny grasp. "We don't know what these are!"

Puck's glow shifted from content pink to a confused ochre. "But you were eating them."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She'd led them both into danger without a second thought.

How could she have forgotten so quickly? Puck had no memories, which made him younger than her. She had even resolved to teach him the ways of the world, he was her responsibility. She was the leader of their partnership, but here she was leading them right into danger.

Her hands shook as she wiped them against her clothes, leaving purple streaks behind. The morning sun crawled higher, casting beams through the breaks in the canopy like a stage spotlight. The discarded berries lay on the ground in highlighted circles, as if mocking her carelessness.

With numb steps she walked them back to the clearing with the fallen log.

Every few minutes, she checked Puck's movements for signs of distress. His wings still buzzed steadily, his flight pattern remained smooth. But what if it took time for the poison to work? What if she'd killed them both with her stupid, desperate hunger?

She pressed her hands against her stomach, trying to sense any changes. Was that gurgle normal? Did her throat feel tighter? The shadows stretched and shifted while she cataloged every twinge and sensation.

"Eleanor?" Puck's bell-like voice carried concern. "Your glow is all wrong."

She blinked. "I don't glow."

"Not like me, but there's something..." He trailed off, hovering closer. "You're scared."

Tears welled up.

"I should have checked first. Should have been more careful. What kind of partner just lets you eat strange berries on an alien planet?"

The silence stretched between them, broken only by the rustle of leaves. Eleanor watched another patch of sunlight crawl across the forest floor, marking another quarter hour of uncertainty. Her throat felt thick with unspoken apologies.

"Mom always said to wait and watch when we found new plants," she eventually whispered. "To see if birds ate them first. To research. To be smart about it." She swallowed hard. She felt very small. "I was just so hungry."

"But nothing bad has happened yet." Puck's glow shifted to a gentle pink as he settled on Eleanor's knee. "And you knew enough to stop when you remembered. That's what matters."

"Mom taught me so much about plants." Eleanor wiped her eyes. "She works— worked as a cultural educator on the Salish reservation." The familiar ache of missing her Mom mixed with pride. "She knows all the traditional plants, which ones are medicine, which ones are food."

"What's a reservation?" Puck's antennae twitched with curiosity.

"It's..." Eleanor paused, searching for words. "The land I come from is called America, and it used to be the home of Native American tribes. My Mom's people — my people — are called the C'ulquim tribe. We lived on that land for thousands of years before others came. Now we don't have all the land, we only have small parts of the land called 'reservations'. Mom says that nobody really owns land, though."

"So it's a bit like how different animals have their territories?"

"Kind of." Eleanor smiled at his attempt to understand. "Mom always said knowledge of the land was sacred, and that's what people really owned. She taught me that before you harvest anything, you should thank the plant and only take what you need."

Puck buzzed thoughtfully.

"Is that why you stopped eating? To thank the berries first?"

"Well, no..." Eleanor glanced at her purple-stained hands. "But that's a good point. Mom would say we should observe first — watch what the local creatures eat, learn the patterns." She straightened up. "Actually, that's perfect! The animals here can talk! We'll just ask someone what's safe to eat."

"And we can ask them if we're poisoned!" Puck's glow brightened.

Eleanor choked on a laugh, and Puck tilted his head quizzically.

"Yeah, that too," she agreed.

Finally, they had a plan. Now all they had to do was find a local.

Eleanor rose and gestured for Puck to follow, reminding him to speak up if he felt even the slightest bit 'funny'.

She realized within moments that 'slightest bit funny' was much too vague for Puck, who gave her a gross, endless stream of commentary about all the things that felt funny to him, up to and including how he had peed that morning—

"—And then it welled up kind of like a dew drop and I had to shake my legs on the leaf I was on and dance around to make it come off and then—"

"Okay, okay, enough!" Eleanor covered her ears with berry stained hands and groaned. "How about I tell you if I feel funny, and we just talk about something else?"

Eleanor led right back to the berry bush. She grabbed a large leaf that looked like a maple, only rounder, and used it to pluck a berry from the bush without touching it. She remembered that some poisons didn't have to be eaten, they could seep into your body through your skin. Eleanor was determined to set a better example after her lapse earlier.

The very first creature they talked to was able to give them its name: Oran.

"'Course its safe," answered the chubby cheeked squirrel, eyeing the berry with open envy. "It can even heal you some, if you're injured."

Eleanor nodded absently.

It was just like Mom had said. This must be a medicine plant.

Eleanor offered the berry to the squirrel as a token of thanks, and the squirrel stowed it —not into his cheeks but into his fluffy tail— before bidding them a good day and running up a tree.

Eleanor turned to Puck with a scholarly air.

"Okay, some new rules about food. We can eat any Oran berries we find, because those are officially on the Safe List. Any new foods, we can only eat after we've asked someone about it. Understand?"

Puck nodded at her seriously and Eleanor smiled.

"Good, then lets go grab some more."

----------------------------------------

The setting sun painted their clearing in warm oranges and purples. Eleanor sat cross-legged on their log, methodically sorting Oran berries into piles while Puck hovered nearby, his gentle pink glow adding to the sunset's colors.

"Mom always says when you're lost, you should stay in one place." Eleanor rolled a berry between her fingers. "But that only works if someone's looking for you. And the only people looking for us are those men."

"Why do you think they wanted to catch us?" Puck settled on a nearby branch.

"Because of Dad." Eleanor's voice hardened with certainty. "He found something in the desert. Something important. That's why he was acting weird before we came here."

She placed the berry in the 'perfect' pile.

"See, Dad studies space. And he's smart. Probably the smartest man on the whole planet." She looked at Puck from the corner of her eyes before conceding, "Although I'm not really sure if he is. There's always people like Albert Einstein or Stephen Hawking."

"Who?"

"…It's not important. My point is, he had all those charts in his study, remember? And that empty stand thing — I think it must have something to do with what brought me here. I…I felt like I'd seen it before, maybe. A long time ago."

"But why would he bring you to another planet?"

"I don't think he meant to." Eleanor's hands stilled, uncomfortable with admitting this, even to someone as kind as Puck. "Dad gets... focused sometimes. He never really wanted me with him when he was working. Mom says he forgets the rest of the world exists when he's busy, but I think the truth is that I got in the way. Dad didn't want to be distracted from his work by looking after me.

"If he found some way to travel across the universe to be on a distant planet…I don't think he would've brought me along, Puck."

"He doesn't sound like a very smart man."

Eleanor hummed noncommittally and continued sorting.

"He probably activated whatever it was by accident. Those men knew about it though. You said they talked a lot about his research, and they even called him 'The Professor', which implies they know that he's a scholar who does important research things and teaches those things to other people. They weren't that surprised to find us here, they just wanted to take us somewhere."

"Where?" Puck's glow flickered briefly with concern.

"Doesn't matter." Eleanor straightened her shoulders. "We're not going with them. We need to find Dad. If they're looking for him, then that means Dad isn't with them. And that means Dad isn't wherever they would try to take us. Dad's the only person who knows how I got here. Which means," she concluded, meeting Puck's eyes, "that we need to find him to go home. And at the same time, we need to avoid those bad men and their monsters."

She looked up at the unfamiliar stars beginning to peek through the twilight.

"Mom also says everything happens for a reason. Maybe we're supposed to be here, helping Dad with whatever he discovered. Maybe he didn't want me here, but maybe he needed me here."

Eleanor jumped to her feet, scattering a few berries. "We need supplies. Food, water, something to carry it all in." Her steps quickened as she paced the clearing. "My mom's people, the C'ulquim — they lived off this land for generations before the settlers came. Well, not this land exactly, but you know what I mean."

Puck's glow shifted to a brighter pink as Eleanor's enthusiasm grew.

"They knew which plants were safe to eat, how to find water, how to make shelter." She grabbed a stick and started drawing in the dirt. "First, we need containers. Something to carry water and food. Then we need to find a water source that's safe — that river is perfect because fast moving water is usually cleaner than water that doesn't move at all, like lakes or puddles. And we need to learn which berries we can eat without testing them first."

"Like these?" Puck gestured at their sorted piles.

"Exactly. But we need more variety. Mom says you can't live on just one type of food." Eleanor drew circles in the dirt, mapping out her thoughts. "We should stay near here for now, learn the area. Make it our home base while we figure things out."

Her hands moved with purpose as she sketched.

"See this fallen log? Perfect shelter if we can waterproof it somehow. And these berry bushes mean there must be other food nearby."

"You really know about all this?" Puck drifted down to study her drawings, his glow warming to match the golden sunset.

"Well, some." Eleanor paused, then squared her shoulders. "And what I don't know, we'll learn together. That's what Mom always says — you don't have to know everything, you just have to be willing to learn."

She wrapped the berry piles in leaves and stowed them all in the log, crawling in behind them. Puck followed last and worked slowly through closing the rotten entrance with a lattice-work of thin, silk thread.

It would need to be renewed throughout the night.

They agreed to help each other watch the makeshift door by taking turns resting. Eleanor insisted that Puck sleep first, because he was the only one who could remake the door and he needed to keep up his strength.

Eleanor cradled him in her arms, his weight barely there at all, and watched through the translucent doorway as the world outside began to change, night claiming the land once more. The last rays of sunlight filtered through the trees, making the clearing glow a warm russet hue that was outshone only by their shared determination and the brilliant light of Puck's tiny wings.