Braq, Radji Cradle ecologist.

Date [standardised human time]: January 10th, 2120

(16 years, 8 months before the invasion of the radji Cradle).

For once the approach of a vehicle did not instil alarm, but trepidation was there in no small measure. Braq did not know what to expect, but he could not help but think that today mattered more than most. The last person they had tried to argue their case for had been Turin’s family, and her expression told him that final, terrible conversation was also bouncing through her head. But it was a clear, cool but sunny day, a rarity in the normally dreary early autumn. He tried to take that as a good sign.

A shiny silver craft came into view low on the horizon, dust and grass thrown aside before its charge. Just when Braq was wondering if their lodge was about to be the subject of a hit and run, the small bus slowed, then shuddered to a stop. Its jets sputtered out as it alighted to the ground, the thrum of the furnace at its heart sinking into a trailing whine.

“Well… no backing out now.” Turin muttered beside him. He nodded distantly.

Imdi sat on the garden wall nearby, playing with the grass. The boy was getting bigger now, no longer quite a toddler. Strangely he seemed to be the least worried out of all of them. Perhaps he’s just happy to have some friends around.

They had initially suggested to Rylett a show-and-tell type demonstration, but the other faculty were apparently nonplussed by the notion of bringing predators into a school. Instead, the tour idea had come to fruition, although only barely. The Priestess’s bid to make the excursion curricular had fallen on deaf ears, the planning coming too late in the school year. Instead, this was marketed as an extra-curricular curiosity. At least here we have some degree of control.

Rylett disembarked the bus first, abandoning the vehicle and her charge. She greeted them heartily like old friends.

“I think a few of the parents still aren’t sold on the idea,” she said through a smile. “One or two might even have been expecting raving lunatics.”

“How many?” Braq asked, watching the curious faces peering out of the windows.

“Six children, seven adults not counting ourselves. Or him,” she added, nodding to Imdi.

“Is that all?” Turin sounded somewhat relieved. “I’d have thought more people would have been curious…”

“These are the curious ones,” Rylett reminded her. “Everyone else is scared or put-off.”

Teraka and Arrut stepped from the vehicle together, engaging in a casual-seeming conversation. Braq felt a swell of resentment for the man but quashed it. We’re all on our best behaviour today. They were followed by their children, both of whom had grown somewhat since Braq had seen them last. Yotun was starting to stretch up, although he was still worryingly thin. Callio was still shorter, but she was gaining the firmer movement and broader body of an adult radji.

Turin offered a wave to Arrut in response to his toothy smile. The families were still gathering around the transport, looking out at the dark woods. “And our friend?” Rylett said out of the corner of her mouth. “I trust they’re busy?”

“Safe and sound,” Turin whispered back. Ki-yu’s job was to monitor the cameras from her den, ensure that no one was wandering off. She would be in radio-code contact if anything went amiss. Or anything wanders too close. Their recent conversation with Juran had worried Braq considerably. The roht they had encountered long ago had apparently disappeared, and both the cameras and Ki-yu’s nose had failed to document it or any others. But the Brackwood was a big place. The girl could only range so far in a day, and there were many hidden trails and hideaways for even a large predator. I’ve let this go too long, we needed to be hunting these things months ago. But are we ready? He tossed the dark thought from his mind as the others began to leave the transport.

“So, who’re we meeting?” he asked the Priestess. “We know Yotun, Callio and their respective fathers.”

“Hm, let’s see…” She gestured with both palms together. ”The terror with the black and white splotches is Marlo. His mother, the pale woman, is Marra.”

“Terror?”

“To hear Priest Harbeck say it,” she chuckled. “The little talkative one’s called Roklin. He’s here with his father, Rho. The lad with the funny muzzle is Erryt. Quiet boy. I haven’t met his parents before.” The four adults were engaged in mild conversation, the dark boy’s snout twisted into a smirk as he listened to his tawny friend.

“Who’s the older gentleman?” Turin asked, nodding to a reddish man tinged with grey standing to the side. He bore a slight limp as he walked, his body crossed with the occasional scar.

“That’s Sarhut’s grandfather, Harrun,” she said, pointing to the small, umber-coloured radji toddling beside him. “A curious pair, in all senses. Sarhut’s parents refused to bring him, so the old man offered.” Rylett raised her brow. “I take it that didn’t go down well.”

Teraka and Arrut had started toward them, their children in tow. The rest of the group was hanging back, parents keeping a solid grip on their young. Safety in numbers I suppose. Braq shared a long look with Turin, steadying themselves before they greeted their neighbours. Callio started skipping ahead of them, Yotun watching her prance.

“Hi!” she said sunnily, her greeting directed at Imdi. The boy returned the smile.

“Hey,” he said, looking up at the new adults with some trepidation.

“You must have had a roundabout trip,” Braq chuckled, trying to add some brevity as he greeted the men. Arrut rolled his eyes but smiled.

“Into the city then out again, ah well.” He looked around at them. “Laenar apologises for her absence, but someone’s got to keep an eye on the vines this time of year.”

“We’re just glad you were willing to visit,” Turin smiled.

“Well, we could barely keep these two away!” Arrut guffawed. He gestured to the smiling man beside him. “We thought we’d be neighbourly and tag along.”

“Braq, Turin,” Teraka simpered, half-bowing politely.

“Teraka,” Braq said, repeating the gesture. “How’s your fence coming along?”

“Very well, thank you, those permits you recommended sped things along wonderfully.”

“So long as it’s effective,” Turin said.

“Thus far.” The man looked about cheerily. “Should be a nice day, one hopes.” Having seen that four of their number had survived a conversation with the mad scientists, and that none of them were in immediate danger of being set upon, the other families gradually meandered over. Callio had started chatting amiably to Imdi about the lodge, Yotun hanging back a short way but looking about. A few of the other children approached them.

“Is this your house Imdi?” the ochre child Rylett had called Roklin gawped. “You’re, like, the only ones out here!”

“Pretty much,” Imdi laughed. “Yotun’s our closest neighbour, over the mountains.” Yotun looked over at the great dividing range, Braq wondering if he suspected his secret friend dwelt there now, watching this conversation.

“Hello everyone,” Rylett called out cheerily. “C’mon, gather round, these ones don’t bite!” Personally, Braq probably would have preferred to bite; this many people looking right at him was unsettling. He felt completely out of his element, surrounded. Whilst most of the radji had come to a respectable distance, Erryt’s parents were hanging further back, both holding a demeanour as ember as their fur. Braq got the impression that they were only here because Erryt had put up a fuss. I’ve got a job to do, he reminded himself. Be kind, be confident.

“Well, it’s so nice to see so many unfamiliar faces,” he lied, clapping his paws together. There was some approximation of friendly expressions. “I’m Braq, this is Turin, and that’s our son Imdi. We have Rylett to thank for this trip, so blame her if you must.”

“I just drove the bus,” she said modestly. A few people made humoured noises.

“This is partly to show you guys some cool critters, and why we study them. But to be frank, it’s also to allay some fears.” Braq tried to put on his friendliest, most understanding face. “We know what you all think of us. The work we do must seem… counterintuitive.” He paused, letting his paws rest on his hips. “Probably downright mad.” There were some nervous chuckles. “But our work here is important, productive, and hopefully we can show that to you all. We just ask that you keep an open mind.” The couple had been over what they would say, and Braq felt a momentous wave of relief having felt like he had said his piece. There was only an awkward half moment before Turin took over.

“S-so this morning we’ll break into two sections,” Turin said, fidgeting with her claws. The other radji likely would not notice the tic, but Braq had stilled those paws many a time. “We suspect you’re all quite nervous about the predators, so we’ll get that out of the way first.” There was some shuffling of feet accompanied by a few murmurs; only the old man and Teraka remained unmoved. “Look,” Turin said, holding up her paws, “none of the animals here pose any danger to you whatsoever.” She gestured to the three of them. “We live here, raise our child here. You’re all safe. But should any of you feel scared, or overwhelmed, or just feel the need to sit and rest, that’s all fine.”

“One of us will come back here with you,” Rylett said. “There’s no expectations.”

“Afterwards, we’ll head on out into the woods to show you a few of the treasures found there. This really is a special place, so all we ask is that you’re all respectful to it, and don’t wander off.”

“So…” Braq took a deep breath, and courage from the faces of his wife and son. His thumb brushed against the radio on his hip. Help me be brave, sweetheart. “…the Brackwood has been here a very long time, tens of thousands of years at least. It’s been on maps so long as there’ve been maps of this region, although we can see from that that it used to be much larger. Turin and I are ecologists. That’s a fancy word to say that we care for and preserve wild places, and generally don’t get paid very much to do so.”

“When we got here,” Turin continued, more confidently, “our directive was to ensure the survival of this forest and all the surrounding natural resources. That included returning it to a wild state, with small, easily controlled predators.”

“So, the government asked you to do this?” Erryt’s mother asked. The pair had moved a little closer.

“Sorry, I didn’t get your name, Mrs…?”

“Oqen,” the dark woman replied, rubbing her arm absent-mindedly. “My husband is Tarradon.”

”Well, Oqen, we’re employed by the Bendara council. This is, technically, their land.” Turin made a quibbling noise. “With the exception of our home. It’s complicated. Anyway, our job is to safeguard this land, and to foster it back to a native state. Make sense?” They all seemed onboard with that, more or less, so the ecologists led them up onto the top of the lodge. The mossy tiles were well built, so Braq was pretty sure they would not all fall through. From there they had a good view of the surrounding woods, the mountains looming to the east.

“Does anyone know what kind of species we might find here?” he asked, gesturing out toward the woods around them. A few adults looked at one another expectantly, but no one produced an answer.

“Brynn?” Arrut said at length. His son’s paw curled reflexively.

“That’s one, for sure,” Braq murmured. “We have many animals here. The scansa are pretty common, you know the little feathery flying things? Fiirits, awlets, bellboys, and a few other kinds besides. We’ve got some rarer kinds of animals, but stiplets are the most abundant, and that’s the big problem. They’re lovely animals really, they just reproduce too quickly.” They shared a prolonged, pregnant pause as some of the adults took his meaning.

“So that’s why you keep predators?!” Marra sniffed. “To hunt things with them?!” There was a general look of disdain in the radji.

“I think that’s an unfair characterisation, Marra,” Rylett interjected.

“N-no,” Turin said, putting her paws together and gesturing openly toward Marra. “I think it’s a reasonable question. We do release predators with the expectation that they will hunt the stiplets.” She sighed and shook her head. “Look we don’t want to kill animals at all. If the stiplets aren’t controlled they would be overwhelming, and they’d eat the foothills barren. Teraka,” she gestured to the mild man. “Stiplets must be a pest on your crops.”

“They are indeed,” he said, tilting his head with a thin smile. “Although I haven’t resorted to retaliatory measures just yet.”

“And what sort of ‘retaliatory measures’ would you take?”

“Poisons, baits and traps are all common in the industry.”

“But are unspecific, yes? They could harm other species.”

“What’s more,” Braq added, “we’d have to go out and set them ourselves, continually monitor and replace them. The cost would be astronomical. As strange as it seems, predators are easier to control. It is worth noting that none of our predators grow large enough to hunt anything bigger than a stiplet.”

“B-but isn’t a stiplet still about the size of a child?” Rho pointed out.

“Sure… a very, very young child. Like a newborn. But the only newborns these guys would have ever seen would have been, well…” He gestured to his son. “So, if we thought it was safe enough to raise him here, we’re pretty sure they’re no danger to anyone,” he added before too many accusatory looks were sent his way.

“Couldn’t you… clear out all the stiplets, rather than risk predators?” Tarradon suggested.

“Yes,” Teraka purred, like a novel thought had occurred. “Forgive me but, there were places that thrived without hunters were there not? Why couldn’t you try to build that here?”

“’Were’ is the operative word,” Turin said smoothly. “Most of those ecosystems evolved in isolation, say, on an island. The species that lived there adapted to the lack of predators in very interesting ways, it’s true. But those adaptations also made them… brittle. The moment there was a disruption to their habitat, they went extinct.”

“Extinct?” Marlo asked. “What’s that mean?”

“A species is extinct when the entire population disappears,” Braq said as gently as he could.

“It means that they all died,” Imdi said. The throng went quiet except Callio, who stifled what might have been a laugh. Turin cleared her throat.

“So we don’t want that. Our best bet is to try and rebuild what used to be here.” She glanced between Rylett and Braq. “With all that in mind, shall we meet the source of all this worry?” Nodding as though they had all heartily agreed (which they had not) and smiling as though they were all merry (which they were not) Turin started down toward the pens. With Braq, Imdi, and Rylett following suit, the herd trailed them shortly thereafter.

The throng eyed the long line of miniature huts warily. The children were fidgeting, whispering to one another in hushed tones. The ecologists had invested in some covers for the pens, as well as some downier bedding. It was keeping them warm, but Braq had not considered that their concealment might seem more intimidating. At least the animals seem to be tolerating the change.

“As Turin said, we keep two kinds of predators here,” Braq began, leaning as casually as he could against the enclosures. Oqen winced, as though she expected him to be mauled at once. “Whilst they’re growing, we feed them a plant-based predator feed. Nothing is harmed before release.” There was some surprised glances. “These ones hold vexise. Vexise aren’t native to the Cradle, although we’re not exactly sure where they came from. They started to crop up on some of the iridian worlds a century or so ago and seem to have spread as a kind of eccentric pet from there.”

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“So… they’re alien?” Yotun asked.

“In a sense,” Turin replied. “They adapt so well to their ecosystems it’s hard to call them a pest. If they aren’t controlled, they could be a problem though.”

“Why would anyone keep a predator pet?” Erryt wondered through his tilted face.

“Beats me,” Braq said, pulling away the nearest pens cover. “These guys can be a bit temperamental, but I assure you you’re all quite safe.” Braq gestured invitingly down to the creatures within. A few brave faces peered over the edge. The pair of reddish-orange felines regarded them with yellow-green eyes, their tall ears and tails tinged with a sooty black.

“Mew!”

“Oh-!” Rho barked, backing off at once. “Kay-ut!”

“Woah!” Erryt said. “Look at those eyes! Freaky!” Roklin moved to have a look, but his father pulled him back.

“Y-you said you’ve been releasing these guys?” Arrut asked, his paws tightening on the railing. Callio peered over beside him, her eyes widening in wonder and fear.

“A few,” Turin said. “They seem to prefer the forest and the middle levels of the mountains.” Roklin managed to free himself from his father’s grip, risking a look at the little hunters.

“They’re so… fuzzy and… orange?” he squeaked. “Are they just cubs?”

“No,” Braq laughed, “these are the adults.” Turin smiled sunnily at the exchange but turned back to Arrut.

“If you’re worried about them heading over the mountains, I wouldn’t be too concerned. We tested a few at high altitude and only made them sick. Also, there’s simply not much for them to eat up there.”

“Hm,” he grunted. “I was expecting something much more… well, much more.”

“Honestly,” Rylett offered, “I was quite surprised by how unaggressive they are.”

“And these are the mean ones,” Imdi giggled, making Braq smile at him.

“Let’s let them get some sleep, eh?” he said, ushering the onlookers away, and resetting the cover.

“The other species we keep are shadow monitors,” Turin said, leading them further down the pens. “These guys have a bad reputation as vicious, but it’s all rubbish. Oh, Imdi, go get the berries, would you?” Braq tussled the boy’s head as he ran toward the storage shed. Turin pushed the cover off and reached down into the pen immediately. Oqen and Tarradon were wearing matching looks of disbelief, even Teraka looked cowed by the action. A moment later she pulled back with a little grey reptile in her paws. The creature looked about curiously, chirruping up at her.

“This is one of the young ones,” she said, scratching it under the chin. “The adults are about twice this size.” Callio jumped as Imdi pushed past her, a box of berries in his paws.

“Thanks sweetheart,” Turin said as she took it from him. She offered the reptile some fruit, watching as it gobbled down the morsel.

“I-I thought you said they were predators?” Marlo asked.

“They are, but the young ones will eat almost anything. The adults are much pickier. Would anyone like to touch one?” Turin asked, holding it out. Most of the adults grimaced, Rho taking a half-step back.

“T-touch one?!” Roklin gawped.

“Sure!” Turin laughed. “Honestly, they’re cute little idiots.” Braq shook his head, trying to hide his smarmy grin behind his paw. She’s been looking forward to this. Ever the nonconformist.

“I’ll h-have a go,” Rylett said, clearly trying to put on a brave face. Not giving her a moment to change her mind Turin offered it to her back first. Rylett gingerly grabbed it like a sandwich, making a shuddering sound as the reptile wriggled in her grip.

“Not like that,” Turin said softly, taking the lizard from her. “Hold your paws flat… yes like that.” The monitor looked far more comfortable as she returned it to her paws.

“Huh…” Rylett swallowed. “I’d have thought it’d be slimy or something.” She swung her paws toward the crowd. “Anyone else?” A few of the parents were leaning away, Erryt’s father pulling the boy back.

“Pass ‘im here,” Harrun harrumphed. Rylett, despite her bravery, transferred it at once. The reptile wriggled a little, but otherwise did not protest. The old man, to his credit, seemed not to react. “Heh, docile things, aren’t they?”

“They can be,” Turin said, looking at him inquisitively. Predator disease? Braq wondered briefly, but the old timer seemed reasonably mild mannered. He held the reptile down to his grandson. “Have a pet, lad.” The little boy apprehensively extended a paw, jumping a little when the monitor peered at him. Bravely, he stroked its back, a cheesy grin crossing his features.

“He’s so scaly!” he giggled. The old man smirked, ignoring the bewildered look Marra was giving him. Turin returned the predator to its den.

“Can I ask,” Tarradon said. “What if they aren’t effective?”

“Then,” Braq replied, “we round them all up and try with something else.”

“Really?”

“We’re scientists,” Braq gestured widely. “We keep to the evidence.”

~*~

The tour followed the trail as it meandered between the trees, the ground crunching beneath their feet. Imdi was chatting with Callio and Yotun ahead of him, Braq trying to keep an eye on them. Rylett and Turin were watching the bulk further back.

The introduction to the predators seemed to go better than he had predicted; they had half been expecting a stampede back to the transport. But he was still nervous. Too many unknowns, too many people.

“All clear?” he asked his radio. An affirmative buzzed back.

“Who’re you talking to?” a voice squeaked beside him. Looking down Braq found that Sarhut, the little lad, had wandered up alongside him. His grandfather was limping after him hastily.

“Just some security software,” he said quickly, replacing the radio onto his belt. Harrun huffed up alongside him.

“You bothering our host, lad?” he wheezed.

“Not at all,” Braq laughed, looking at the fuzzy little cub. “Must be your first year at the school, huh?”

“Yup!” Sarhut said cheerfully. “Mama says I have to do well!” Harrun cleared his throat.

“So,” the old man grunted, “mind if I ask you something that’s been on my mind?”

“Sure.” The veteran grinned through old teeth, taking a breath.

“You said that your predators only hunt small prey, correct?”

“That’s right. There’s not too many good candidates for other predators. Besides, it’d be too dangerous.”

“Of course, of course,” he said, swinging his paw dismissively. “But surely the larger herbivores will also grow big enough to cause issues. What can you do about them?” This man has a keen mind.

“Most of the moderately-sized animals are stable enough, things like vyrryn. There’s a herd of brynn we have to keep an eye on though.”

“I thought you said as much but didn’t believe my ears. My, they must be impressive!” The two chuckled.

“They are something, I’ll grant you that. We aren’t likely to see any today. The herd migrates around the eastern portion of the property where there’s more grassland, although they’ll occasionally wander.” He sniffed. “So long as they keep moving, they’re no issue. But stay in one place too long…”

Ahead of him, Yotun tapped Imdi on the shoulder as they walked.

“Hey, where’s your sister?” he heard him ask. It was quiet, so he only just overheard it, but it made him stutter for a moment. Glancing behind him, Braq saw that Turin was distracted with Erryt’s parents, and Rylett was talking to Teraka.

“Hm,” Harrun grunted, oblivious. “I suppose it must take a lot to keep a herd moving.”

Imdi made a stammering noise.

“Wh-what sister?” Braq needed to intervene, but in a way that did not betray their panic.

“Yotun,” Callio hissed beside the boys, “don’t start anything.”

“W-well,” Braq stuttered, trying to find some clever way out. “They sort of move about on their own. We’d have to–”

His radio buzzed on his belt; Ki-yu must have been watching.

“Ah, a moment.” Bless that girl, he thought as he moved toward the lead. “Imdi,” Braq called to him, pretending to input a command through the device. His son took the opportunity to escape the question, mumbling an apology and marching himself over. Braq leaned over like he was giving him instructions. “You okay?” he whispered. The boy was tight lipped but nodded. I’ll have to keep a closer eye on them. “Okay. Why don’t you show us to the irruta mound, you know the one?” Imdi nodded.

“It’s not far.”

“Good lad,” he said, giving him a pat. He turned to the trailing group as his son padded ahead. “My son has just reminded me that there’s some important colonies nearby you might find interesting.” None of the adults seemed to have noticed the altercation, but Callio had stomped ahead of her slender friend in a huff.

They arrived at the colony in short measure. The group gathered around the mound of dirt and compacted sawdust. Braq was pleased to see it was still inching upward, the little burrowers hard at work before the chill.

“So!” Turin said, clapping her paws together in a clear mimicry of Braq, her coy smile suggesting it was a mockery. “Does anyone know what this is?” Braq let her lead, moving toward the rear of the crowd. Yotun was picking at the peeling of a ripbark tree out of earshot of the rest. He was so deep in thought he jumped at Braq’s approach.

“Sorry to startle you,” Braq apologised.

“N-no, you didn’t,” he lied, kicking at the dirt. The boy always looks like he’s starving, Braq noted grimly.

“What do you think of the Brackwood? Must have a good view of it from your home.” He glanced over at the others; Turin was talking energetically about the importance of a healthy understory and managing to keep their audience engaged.

“I try not to think about it,” Yotun mumbled. “I mean… it’s beautiful,” he said earnestly, “I just…” He shrugged. His paws returned to the bark.

“Did my son say something to upset you?” Braq asked casually. Yotun’s claws slipped from the trunk, the boy regarding him cautiously.

“No…”

“You two seem to have had some kind of misunderstanding.” The youth rubbed his arm, looking around Braq anxiously to ensure they were not being overheard.

“I-I’m sorry about the fight in the yard… I don’t know what came over me.”

“It’s okay.” The father folded his arms. “I’ve heard a few accounts of it now. Imdi doesn’t have a sister,” Braq told him, hiding anxiety behind a guise of curiosity. “I’m not sure where you got the idea.” From the corner of his eye, he spied Arrut watching their conversation from the other side of the clearing. A few of the adults were sharing quiet words with one another, the children peering closer to the colony.

“Can… I ask you something?” Yotun said softly. “Are there… monsters in these woods?” Braq considered the skinny boy before him. Everything Ki-yu had described of their conversations screamed of loneliness, trauma, some form of neglect. He was brave to come here… first by himself, and then to seek her out… Braq sighed, resisting the urge to place a paw on his shoulder.

“Only those we bring with us,” he said.

“Yotun!” Callio called from the group, her cream-coloured arms beckoning him. “These little guys are so cool!” Yotun’s brow creased.

“They are,” Braq said, tossing his head toward the gathering. “Go have a look.” Yotun rolled his eyes but wandered over.

Braq looked up apologetically to where he knew a camera had been stashed, it’s lens boring into him. He buzzed a check-in through the radio. It was a long moment before he heard the affirmative.

“Everything alright?” Arrut asked, the man had snuck up on him.

“Yeah,” Braq said, “he was just asking about the trees.” They watched the kids enthusiastically prod at the mound. Imdi held up an irruta, the other kids crowding around to watch it crawl across his paws. He passed it to Sarhut, the cherub squealing as it tickled his fingers. It warmed his heart to see his son smiling with other kids, giggling and chatting, but they had to move on. It was a slightly longer walk to their next stop, further north-east. The children seemed unaware of how deep into the forest they were now, even if some of their parents were beginning to look nervous. Eventually, when they were just starting to tire, they came across what they had come for: a grove of retans. The pale thin trees had grown in a narrow depression in the landscape, a sunken patch of white wood and yellowing leaves.

“We’re here for one thing,” he panted to the others, Rylett offering around water. “Kuru.”

“Kuru are incredibly rare, and incredibly skittish,” Turin said. “They’re very hard to study.”

“How’d you find places like this?” Rho asked breathily before swigging down some water.

“We spent much of our first few years here exploring, building monitoring devices and charting the forest,” Braq said, smiling fondly. “But we still find surprises, seemingly the more we look. This grove we only stumbled across this month.” Actually, it was Ki-yu who had found the creche sitting at a boundary of the forest and the lower mountains. Another secret. He gestured about.

“What do you notice about these trees?” There was a moments silence, broken by the sound of people catching their breath. “Sometimes an obvious answer is the right one!”

“They’re… pale? White?” Callio offered.

“Yes! Now why’s that important? Well, kuru are also white, and they use that white coat to hide in snowy areas. But when it comes time to nest, they’d be really obvious in a big, dark ripbark tree. So, they depend on the retans to hide from predators.”

“Why would you introduce predators here if you care about these rare kuru?” Erryt’s mother, Oqen, asked.

“Well neither of our predators hunt kuru, they can’t get up to the top of the trees. But there used to be predators who could, so the kuru would be quite vulnerable without them.”

“But…” Roklin scrunched up his tiny face, then shied away.

“C’mon boy, ask away,” Rylett goaded him.

“Well… there aren’t any predators… I mean other than your ones, around anymore… so why are the kuru rare?” Braq had to stop himself from jumping up and down, his partner grinning to herself as he rocked backward and forward on his feet.

“Excellent question! The answer is, again, the trees.” He pointed to Callio. “The wood of the retan tree is a lovely pearly white…”

“Countertops…” Arrut mumbled, looking up at the canopy. “They’re a beautiful material…”

“And the more that they were used,” Turin said, “the rarer they got, the more valuable they became…”

“…and the kuru slowly lose their homes…” Marra whispered, a shocked expression pinching her brow. Got you.

“Exactly,” Braq whispered. “No predator did this to them; we did.” A terrible stillness fell across them. No one said anything. Braq let the hush sit for a moment, feel it pull at the mind. When he spoke, he did not need to raise his voice. “These kuru, the vyrryn and brynn, even the stiplets, they can only exist in places like these. And places like these can only exist when we give them the space to do their work.”

“It’s why we’ve committed our lives to this place,” Turin said. “Many of the creatures here aren’t found anywhere else anymore.” For the first time, none of the others were looking at them, their eyes turned out to the world around them. “The kuru are in the fight of their lives.” The radji seemed more contemplative, and Braq thought he could entertain the notion that they were reaching them.

“Okay…” Braq said, crouching down and gesturing for the others to do the same. “What we’re going to do is try and stay as quiet as possible.” Harrun’s knee clicked as he sat, his face grimacing, but he voiced no protest. “If we listen, we might be able to hear one.”

“How’re you going to lure them in?” Teraka asked.

“We aren’t.” He swallowed, gesturing to some nearby branches. “We’ve had some fortune recently, and we’ve even spotted a few… so if we’re very quiet, and very lucky we might even see one.”

The tour fell into a sombre, apprehensive calm. It was strangely unifying to just sit quietly with people you barely knew. Any one of them could break the silence at any time, yet none of them did. A funny thing about silence: Braq was convinced that no such thing existed, at least not in the woods. When he put aside all his worries, all his thoughts, he found that things never quieted, not really; they just got smaller. More distant. The air could sound different; a gust is different to a gale after all, a billow softer than a breeze. Each had its own tender touch. A waft of cool air whistled through the gold tinted leaves, each stroking, or tapping, or rustling against its neighbour. Here, their quiet shared the noise, revered it. There was a warble some way out, the radji looking around. Braq shook his head.

“Fiirit,” he whispered. Brown eyes peered about the woods, ears straining to hear. Fur brushing. Light breathing. There was a rustling in the undergrowth, a stiplet peering over a log. The party made some quiet noises, a few pointing.

Braq gently nudged against his beloved’s shoulder. She bit her lip, stunned, as she looked at him. She shook her head, just a little. Around them sat ordinary people. In the woods. Listening. He took her paw, their claws interlocking.

“Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp.”

Braq and Turin kneeled forward, mouths agape as they looked up to the branches. The others looked up as well. It was quiet, almost silent. Almost.

“There!” Marlo gasped, pointing with a claw. A flash of white whipped between the leaves.

“Good eye, lad!” Sarhut’s grandfather grunted.

“Everyone stay quiet!” Turin whispered eagerly. They were all still, all looking, all waiting.

There was a chitter, and they glimpsed the wings of the little creature stretched out as if embracing the sky. It swung down over them in a lazy glide, drawing a few muffled gasps as it pulled itself up toward the branches. The ball of white alighted on the trunk, folding its fuzzy, membranous wings to give its claws more purchase. Little scraps of bark gave way to its claws, the flesh a light blue green beneath. The kuru chirruped to itself, clacking together its strange, narrow toothy beak. Its feathered back ended with a long plume of fibrous fronds, trailing behind the animal most gracefully.

“Wow…” he heard Sarhut gasp.

“Can you see it, Papa?” Callio asked her father.

“Yes, darling…” he said, but his curious eyes were on Braq. “I see it.”

The kuru scampered up the trunk a short distance, stopping at a smooth patch. It rubbed its beak against it, clacking against the wood. Seemingly satisfied, it puffed out its chest.

“Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp.” There was a long pause.

“A male,” Braq whispered to the group. “The females have a slightly different sound.”

The creature repeated it’s call.

“Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp.” He tilted his head after each cry, waiting.

“What’s he doing?” Erryt whispered.

“He’s looking for a friend,” Imdi whispered back.

“Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp.”

“How many of these creatures did you say there were?” Rho asked, his eyes not leaving it.

“Hard to say,” Turin whispered. “We estimate fewer than a hundred.” Rho shook his head. The kuru started putting more effort into his calls.

“Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp. Thuuuuiipp.”

“Protector…” Rylett whispered, kneeling in quiet prayer. “Makes you wish it would stop.”

Then, distantly,

“Thuuuuuuuuiee, Thuuuuuuuuiee.” The kuru perked up, clacking his beak enthusiastically.

“Thuuuuiipp.”

“Thuuuuuuuuiee.” The group gasped as the animal dove backwards off the retan, tucking his wings tight as he plummeted. With a chitter he opened up, the feathers on his tail trailing like streamers as he vanished into the trees.

~*~

The families were slowly gathering around the bus. The adults were fatigued but seemingly less wary than before. Poor Harrun’s limp was more pronounced, even if he made no grievance. The children seemed energised by comparison, the younger ones running about, chasing one another and playing hide and sneak. Even normally morose Yotun seemed more relaxed, sharing some private joke with Callio. Their fathers stood nearby, chuckling as they watched the youngsters play. Rylett ambled up to where Braq and Turin had rested themselves against their home.

“Seems like a successful day,” she opined, gesturing to the others.

“Much to our surprise,” Turin sighed. “I was expecting much worse.”

“I think we all were,” Arrut called over, clearly within earshot. Callio sauntered over, Yotun following on an invisible lead.

“Can we come back some time?” the girl asked. Teraka almost winced, the two other men joining them.

“Now now darling, we don’t want to upset their operation, do we?” he said softly.

“Your father’s right, unfortunately,” Rylett said. “Braq and Turin have been very kind to spend a full morning with us, they’re very busy people.” Callio pouted.

“Okay… I’d just love to see the kuru again.” Yotun nudged her.

“Hey, why don’t we start getting the others together?” he suggested. Callio looked at him strangely but went with him to collect the rascals. There were disappointed groans from the children, but they started heading for the transport.

“You know… a grove was cut down for our house,” Arrut admitted. He rubbed his paws together, his features conflicted. “Thought we’d source locally, figured we’d be supporting the community.”

“You didn’t know,” Rylett said placatingly.

“What’s the scripture say? ‘Ignorance is not absolution?’” he said bitterly. “How long would it take to grow a grove?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Braq shrugged. “It’s so hard to say.”

“Your best guess?” he insisted. Turin folded her arms, looking down as she thought.

“It’d need a free space in the canopy,” Braq suggested.

”Yeah, and it’d have to be adjacent to other habitat to avoid the fragmentation. But putting that aside, assuming ideal conditions…”

“…Twenty-five? Maybe thirty?”

“Yeah… that’d be right.”

“Thirty years…” Arrut groaned, rubbing his face. “My son would be older than I am…” Nearby squeals announced that a new bout of play was underway, Yotun and Callio the clear ringleaders. They shook their heads, watching their children laughing. “Well… better get started,” Arrut said wistfully.

---

“Hope” is the thing with feathers -

That perches in the soul -

And sings the tune without the words -

And never stops - at all -

– Hope, Emily Dickinson, 1861.