Enemies coming, Sirocco warns, but she doesn’t sound entirely sure. I frown and flick a quick thought to Shrieks to stop. It doesn’t take long for him to halt the whole group – everyone by this point is well-trained to obey his cues at a moment’s notice. Sixteen days of travelling together through increasingly dangerous forest does that to a party.

Not needing to move, I close my eyes and dip into my Bond with Sirocco. She willingly makes space for me and I blink as her vision comes into focus for me. The first second is always disorientating. It requires switching from my normal vision to her highly acute one as well as adjusting to the way her eyes work like a pair of binoculars to focus in on something. But by this point I’ve had enough practice with it to be able to concentrate after that first second.

When I see the ‘enemies’ I take in a quick breath, slightly surprised even though, thinking about it, I shouldn’t be.

Thanks, I say to Sirocco, pulling out of her mind. She accepts my word of gratitude with an aloof air as if it’s nothing more than she is due. “There are samurans not far ahead of us,” I announce and a ripple of excitement goes through the villagers.

How far? asks Shrieks, a hint of eagerness in his voice. Looking around, I see that all of the samurans are fully focussed on me. Maybe not the best idea in this forest – at least my non-samuran Bound are being more sensible.

To answer the question, I check in with Sirocco again, trying to get a sense of distance.

“Not far,” I answer. “If we continue walking, we’ll start hearing them within a few minutes, I think.”

Then with your permission, Tamer, we will continue, Shrieks asks politely, but I can sense he’s raring to go, as is everyone else.

“Yes, let’s go,” I answer, feeling a mixture of nerves and contagious excitement. We start moving again, and this time I don’t think I’m imagining that we’re moving faster than we were before.

The Warriors and Pathwalkers who have been on this journey previously seem to be the most excited, perhaps because they know what to expect. The new Evolved are excited too, but I also sense hints of trepidation among them. Perhaps it’s the fear of the unknown. I have to admit that I have reasons of my own to be nervous.

I’m not a samuran, after all, yet I’m the leader of this village. I don’t want to get in a fight with the other villages, or cause them to declare war on my village, but at the same time, if they try to kill and eat me or decide that I’m less than them because I’m a different species, I’m determined to show them differently.

“Is this usual?” I ask the closest Evolved – Flower. She turns her head to look at me briefly.

Is what usual?

“Meeting a group of samurans before actually making it to the Festival? I thought we weren’t due to arrive there until tomorrow at the earliest. Or have we made even better time than we thought?” A journey that would normally take twenty or so days has been done in seventeen, largely because of the fewer fights which have happened to slow us down thanks to Kalanthia being present some of the time.

I have to admit that I’m glad she’s not present right now, though, which is why we were concerned about enemies. I don’t know how the other samuran party would react to her presence.

Flower shrugs with her tail, the movement difficult to see among the natural swaying of it as she walks.

It is not abnormal, she answers. It doesn’t happen every great cycle, but there are other villages around who are all coming for the same occasion. Arrivals are usually a little staggered – we are going to arrive earlier than normal for us as we’re often one of the later parties. To encounter another party is considered fortuitous since it allows us to start making connections with another group even before the Festival begins. Unless we encounter a village we are actively in conflict with.

“Are there any of those I should be aware about?” I ask warily, wondering why it’s only now that I’m being informed about this. Flower hesitates.

Not…exactly.

I actually slow down and glare at her for her hesitance, though quickly get moving again when I almost cause a collision with the samurans running behind me.

“What do you mean ‘not exactly.”

We are not currently at war with any village, Flower explains, but…there is another village whose leaders seem to delight in the fact that we are small and relatively weak. Our increased strength might be taken as an insult. And there are additional villages who are not as…friendly as they might be.

I groan. Great. So I’m going to at least have to deal with trying to avoid a war breaking out between my village and this other one, and probably putting out metaphorical fires in other places too. After all, even if I’m going to be leaving in half a year, the villagers won’t be.

“I think we need to sit down tonight and discuss all of this,” I tell her. I don’t want to go into this situation blind. “For now, when we meet these other samurans, make sure to tell me what the village’s relationship is with them.”

I will, she promises.

Her promise comes due shortly afterwards as we first hear the sounds of samurans moving through the forest, and then actually see them.

The first samurans we see are clearly scouts. As they come into view, I feel all the samurans around me tensing slightly, wondering whether this group is one they’re friendly with or not. The approaching samurans seem just as tense, obviously having spotted us and probably wondering the same.

Then I see Shrieks and several of the Warriors relax a little.

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Climbs-a-tree! Fallen out of any branches recently? Poison calls jovially, warm welcome flashing through his spines as he strides forwards. He clasps the other Warrior by the arm and leans in to rub his muzzle briefly against the other’s.

They are too far away for me to hear the other samuran’s response clearly, but evidently this is a group of friendlies. I feel the rest of the samurans relax, and I do the same along with them. I flash a look at Iandee, standing next to me.

“Obviously Poison knows that one – do you?”

He shrugs casually in response.

Vaguely, he answers. There are so many Warriors at the Festival that I don’t know too many. Poison knows far more than me because he’s been seven times. This is only my second time.

“Well you’ll know more than me,” I comment wryly. At that he turns and looks at me properly, his eyes searching. I look away, feeling that he’s seeing more than I’d like him to.

Don’t worry, he tells me quietly. We won’t let any harm come to you. You’re one of our Pathwalkers, fertile or not, and our leader.

“I can take care of myself,” I say defensively. I don’t like feeling vulnerable with beings I know are only friendly to me because of the Bonds I have with them. And what I can do for them, I suppose.

I know you can, Iandee answers pacifyingly. But you don’t have to. Not all the time, anyway. He gives me a gentle nudge. You helped me when I was in a bad place. Let me help you now.

I eye him carefully, his metaphorical hand outstretched. Then I tilt my head slightly towards him.

“Alright. Thanks, I suppose.” He doesn’t seem put off by my luke-warm acceptance.

Further conversation is disrupted a moment later.

Tamer, we need you to come to meet the other village’s Pathwalkers, Tree says, almost knocking Iandee out of the way as he barges into the space between us. Oh, sorry Eats-Dirt, he apologises though doesn’t sound particularly sincere about it. Iandee glares at him but holds his tongue. I exchange another look with Iandee, then follow Tree as he leads the way through the group.

Just remember that I am here for you if you want me to be, Iandee sends mentally, clearly determined to finish our conversation.

Thanks, I reply back to him simply. I can appreciate the offer of support even if it comes to nothing in the end.

The other Pathwalkers join us one by one as we make our way through the group and then past it and then through the space between us and the other samuran villagers. Tree stops at the edge of our group, leaving us to continue alone.

In the time I was talking to Iandee, the majority of the other group has come into view. Poison is still the only one speaking to a Warrior on the other side – perhaps that’s a part of tradition which I don’t know when meeting another group of samurans.

Certainly what is about to happen is clearly traditional: there are nine Pathwalkers on the other side arrayed in a sort of V shape. One is at the front of the formation; the leader, I guess. Like us, they are unaccompanied by Warriors. A show of trust? Or confidence?

I send out a gentle probe of Inspect, focussing on keeping it subtle. It returns with a range of information – some of the Pathwalkers are clearly unobservant as the probe practically gives me all the information I could want. Others are more observant, the leader unsurprisingly the most alert, and so I only get some basic information about them.

Still, it’s enough to tell me that they have a variety of abilities much like us, but that their abilities seem more ‘traditional’. Water, wood and earth shapers – two of the latter two, interestingly. They have their own weaver and grower, though I sense that the abilities are not identical to Joy’s and Flower’s. Then there are some more unusual ones – one seems able to talk to plants, controlling them in a different way to a wood-shaper or grower. The last, the leader, is capable of telekinesis – much like the Pathwalker I killed when escaping from the village all that time ago. Given how combat-suitable that ability is, I’m not surprised she’s the leader.

As we finish walking towards the group, I sense the Pathwalkers following me also arranging themselves in a V shape according to their rankings.

What am I supposed to do or say? I ask the Pathwalkers mentally, trying not to let any of my abrupt panic show. We really should have prepared for this, but we weren’t expecting it to be today. At least, I wasn’t.

Calm, Tarra rumbles at me. I will guide you.

I stop at Tarra’s word, a few steps away from the leader. Following her instructions, I stay silent and let the other group speak first. Apparently, that’s the way to announce that I believe our party to be the stronger one.

The other Pathwalkers eye us with a mixture of surprise, shock, and, for some, disgust.

“Greetings from the blue tribe of the third upper mountain,” the other leader starts after a long pause elapses, her spikes flashing with caution and a hint of uncertainty.

“Greetings from the green tribe of the seventh upper mountain,” I reply with as much confidence as I can, leaning into Animal Empathy to be understood.

The other Pathwalkers break out into a hushed chorus of surprise, clearly not having really expected me to either understand or be able to respond.

The leader is no less surprised, but she continues with what I have to guess is a ritualistic way for two tribes to meet.

“You appear to have travelled far. Is the Festival of the Tribes your destination?” she asks as if she doesn’t already know. But then that’s ritual, isn’t it? Like when we ask people ‘how are you’, and the expected response is always a variation of ‘fine’ or ‘good’ no matter if you’re actually completely broken inside. Ritual is all about the form; not the substance.

“We have indeed travelled far, but we would travel even further to meet with our brethren at the Festival of the Tribes,” I answer at Tarra’s prompting. I’m grateful that she is the one who offered – I at least know that she wouldn’t want her own village to look bad by feeding me the wrong responses. If Windy had been the one to offer, I wouldn’t have felt the same certainty.

“Then, as we have the same destination, would you like to share a carcass and then continue together, beginning the Festival of Tribes before we even arrive?”

There is only one response I can politely give, apparently.

“We would be honoured to travel together. Let us offer the carcass from which we will take the strength to continue our journey.”

“My people and I thank you for your gracious offer.” The leader answers, tilting her chin just the slightest upwards, curiosity flickering through her spikes.

Now we must provide a carcass of suitable strength, Tarra tells me mentally, and sit around it with our cousins to feast. Be careful with your words – they will be trying to find out if we truly are stronger than them or not.

What have I just got myself into?