'This village is under my protection. Leave, or face my wrath.' The Druk said menacingly.

'Never!' said the Uttari commander. 'We will take this village, and we will force you to become our Druk!'

The Druk snarled and slithered quickly over the cliff, jumping with all their force on top of the commander....

Dechhen's new toy snow leopard fell with a clack on the floor. She picked it up and put it back on top of her bed. She moved her toy yak, that was at the foot of the bed, to where the snow leopard had fallen. This time, maybe the snow leopard would land on top of the toy yak as she intended.

'Dechhen! Time for dinner!' Aama called out to her from the kitchen.

Dechhen quickly picked up her snow leopard and ran to the kitchen. Aama was stirring over a pot of thenthuk soup. Baby Phurba was cooing in his crib next to them.

'Where is Papa?' Dechhen asked.

'Put your toy back, Dechhen, we are going to be eating now, not playing,' Aama said.

Dechhen stuffed the snow leopard into one of her pockets.

'Are we not going to wait for Papa?' Dechhen asked.

'Your Papa is late; he can eat later. Now go wash your hands and we will sit down to eat,' Aama said.

Dechhen went outside the house to wash her hands at the tap. It was a full moon night; the moon was so bright it bathed everything in a pale, white glow. Dechhen glanced at the house to see if anyone was looking, then scrambled to the back of the house, where the yak shed was. The shed was empty; it looked like Papa had not come back with the yaks yet. She returned to the front of the house and washed her hands.

'Dechhen!' Aama called out.

Dechhen ran back into the house. Her mother was already sitting down with her dinner. She sat down as well.

'How come Papa is late?' Dechhen asked.

'He probably went exploring for new pastures with the yaks. Don't worry, Dechhen, he will be back soon; now eat your dinner,' Aama said.

Dechhen and Aama ate together in silence. It was not usual for them to eat without Papa. Dechhen wanted to ask more questions, but she knew Aama wouldn't answer them. She ate quietly, picking out the thin slices of radish from the thenthuk soup and eating them first. She hated radishes. This way, they were out of the way, and she could enjoy the rich meaty broth better.

'How was study time with Aamgaga, Dechhen?' Aama asked.

'It was okay,' Dechhen said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. 'Aamgaga said my handwriting is getting better every day while Ajyang's is getting worse. Ajyang got annoyed and said it is because Aamgaga makes him write so much his hand is always in pain, and that none of his friends' parents make them write half as much. Aamgaga then got mad at Ajyang and said if his hand hurts from writing then maybe he should be chopping firewood with Gaga Denji instead, and then he shut up and didn't say anything.'

Aama laughed. 'Tashi is lucky Aama has mellowed since she became a grandmother. If I had said something like that to her when I was young, she would have whacked the back of my head.'

'Why did Aamgaga mellow since she became a grandmother?' Dechhen asked.

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'Because you are so cute it always puts her in a good mood when you are around,' Aama said, pulling her cheeks with her hands. Dechhen groaned and pushed her away.

Aama laughed again. She gulped down the last of her thenthuk, put her bowl aside, then got up and picked baby Phurba up from the crib.

'I am going to feed Phurba and put him to sleep,' she said, 'Dechhen, make sure you wash all the bowls then go to bed, okay?'

'Isn't Papa going to be lonely eating alone?' Dechhen asked.

'Don't worry Dechhen, I will sit with him when he eats,' Aama said.

'Can I stay up and wait for him as well?' Dechhen asked again.

'No no, we don't know how late it might be. Just do what I said, then go to bed, okay?' Aama said.

Dechhen nodded dejectedly. After her mother left and she was finished with her meal, she collected the bowls and went outside to wash them. She washed them as slowly as possible without it being suspicious, constantly glancing at the street the house; there was no sign of either Papa or the yaks. Sighing, she went back in the house.

As she lay in bed in the dark, she tried hard not to fall asleep until Papa was back. all she had to do was keep her eyes open, she said to herself. If she relaxed her eyes and stared into the dark, she could see little specks of light swirling in the air. The specks moved wherever she moved her eyes, like tiny insects flying in a swarm. Maybe they were magical insects, invisible to the eye unless you looked carefully, she thought. She wondered if anybody else could see them, or if it was only her. Maybe only children can see them, because only children would take the time to look for them, she thought.

Despite her best efforts, it wasn’t long before Dechhen drifted off into sleep, dreaming of yaks grazing on pastures and swarms of magical insects flying over them all. One of the yaks turned to Dechhen and said,

'How could you be so reckless?'

Dechhen woke up with a start. With half-open eyes, she saw through the crack on the door that the kitchen lamp was lit.

'Be quiet. You will wake the kids,' Dechhen heard Papa's voice in the kitchen.

'I can't believe you! You could have gotten yourself killed!'

Dechhen heard Aama hiss angrily in a quieter voice. She was now wide awake.

'Don't exaggerate now, I am fine, aren't I? Nobody saw me.' Papa was saying.

'You had no reason to go there. If they saw you, they would have killed you without hesitation!' Aama said.

'You are completely missing the point! I am trying to tell you that they are moving closer; they are clearly planning an attack! We must alert others and begin preparations!' Papa sounded earnest.

'They are not going to attack us; and if you tell my mother that you went sneaking around their camp, she will be furious,' Aama said. 'And what do you mean by preparations anyway? What do you expect us to do, make weapons and learn to fight?' she snorted.

'Yes, fight!' Papa said emphatically, 'Tsering Dolma, I saw them training. They are clearly preparing for a battle. And there were thousands of them!'

'You are out of your mind!' Aama said, her voice getting louder.

'Quiet, the kids!' Papa hissed.

'They are not going to attack,' Aama said in a quieter voice, 'The Druk would destroy them, just like the last time the Uttaris were foolish enough to try.'

'That was almost a hundred years ago. The Druk is growing older and weaker; you know this, you saw they could barely finish the dance during the festival -,' Papa said.

'This again!' Aama interrupted.

'The Druk is growing older and weaker, and we need to accept that before it is too late!' Papa said.

'The Druk is an immortal being! Aama said the Druk was probably just tired or something, you are reading too much into it!' Aama said.

'This denial is not going to help us! I don't understand why you and your mother refused to believe me when I told you that I saw Uttaris during the festival, and still refuse to accept that something might be going on with the Druk! Shouldn't we at least be considering this possibility when the Uttaris could potentially wipe our village from existence?' Papa said forcibly.

'You are saying my mother is wrong? My mother, the village elder, who has a direct spiritual connection with the Druk, is wrong about the Druk's well-being and you are right?' Aama said angrily.

'Your mother does not have a direct spiritual connection with the Druk, come on, you know that is just yak crap she tells herself and the villagers!' Papa said.

'I am done with this. I am going to bed.' Aama said. Dechhen quickly closed her eyes and pretended to fall asleep. Footsteps approached the door that stood between the kitchen and Dechhen's room, and with a quiet creak, Aama opened the door. She closed the door quietly, then walked across the room, up the stairs in the corner that led to her bedroom. Dechhen kept her eyes closed for another minute.

Dechhen tried to stay up as long as possible, keeping her ears strained to hear Papa come in. But she did not hear any more footsteps; instead, she drifted off to sleep, thinking about the Druk, the Uttaris, and her grandmother dancing.