“She’s lively. A good sign,” Windle said.

I nodded as we watched Lomi chase the large dog around the massive tree. She was giggling happily as she chased the shepherd dog. Both of them were completely lost in their own little world.

“Still a child. She hasn’t been crying as much lately, too,” I said.

The tall man sighed softly, and I knew it wasn’t just because he was feeling for the girl. That sigh was one mixed with disappointment. Of me.

“What?” I asked. The balcony we stood on overlooked the main yard, and thus the tree. I couldn’t see Windle’s wife, but I could hear and smell her. She sat right beneath us, probably on a chair on the patio.

Windle turned his head a little, to smile gently at me. As if he was looking at someone just as young as the young girl we were talking about. “You never change, Vim,” he said.

“So I’ve been told,” I admitted.

Lomi stumbled. Probably over one of the many small roots sticking out of the giant tree. The dog paused a moment, its wagging tail going stiff, and didn’t renew its happy wag until Lomi regained her footing.

“It’s been some time since someone so young has run under these leaves,” Windle whispered.

“Hm,” I nodded. His children were young, but not that young. Most were grown.

In fact one could verify the age of his children by the trees at the edge of the large yard. Seven tall sprouts, now fully formed, lined the center of the field. They had been planted separately, away from the large forest that surrounded us. They were special. Unique.

Those seven were not like the forest of trees surrounding this house. They were like the massive tree Lomi was running around. Each one a little taller. A little older than the last.

The newest of the seven was tall, but not as tall as the house yet. I knew it was several decades old, but it looked tiny compared to its brothers and sisters. Somehow they had planted them to seem more representative of whose they were. The trees that had been planted for the sons were all thicker. Wider than the rest.

If I had brought Lomi a few visits ago, she’d be running around with a few other children. At least the three youngest ones.

“Don’t plan on having more?” I asked Windle.

Windle said nothing, and a glance at him told me he’d not break that silence. He wasn’t really a private man, when it came to such things, but he was easily embarrassed.

The dog paused a moment to bark at Lomi, then dashed behind the tree. Out of our sight. Lomi quickly chased after.

“Have your children come back yet?” I asked Windle, stepping away from the balcony.

This place was safe. Plus Windle’s wife was downstairs in the garden, watching Lomi. Although just as tall, and thin, I had seen firsthand her fierceness in protecting children.

Lomi was safe enough that I needn’t keep an eye on her all day.

“Only my youngest.” Windle watched Lomi for a few moments more as I went to the seat.

Sitting down across from Windle’s writing desk, I frowned at his answer. “Just her? What’d she come back for?” I asked.

“To weep,” he said gently.

Glancing at the owl, I kept my next question inside for a moment as he slowly went to his own chair. He sat gently in it, with ease and grace. The kind that would unsettle a human.

He looked human enough. Taller than probably any human was, and his eyes were… a tad bit bigger than usual, but nothing about him screamed non-human. In fact only his tall height was unnatural. The man had nearly no Non-Human traits.

His wife, Lilly, on the other hand…

“She fell in love. It did not go well,” Windle said, as if that summed it all up perfectly.

“She still here?” I asked him. I hadn’t seen or heard her yet. Usually by now she’d come and ask me a riddle, one she had crafted over the years since I had last seen her.

“No. She stayed for about a year, and then went off to meet her brother at the cathedral. They plan to travel along the coast, and then return home next summer,” Windle said.

“I see. Was it a human?” I asked him.

“It was,” Windle said.

“Only your firstborn has any non-human traits, correct?” I asked him.

Windle nodded with a small sigh. “Yes. Her… The issue hadn’t been about who or what we are, but simple disastrous happenstance. The young lad met an early end,” Windle said.

“Ah. I see. Hopefully she’ll in time recover,” I said.

“As do I…” Windle softly spoke as he stared at me, yet I knew he didn’t see me. His wide eyes were staring at something far beyond me. Maybe he saw his young daughter, weeping her heart out.

“The other children?” I asked.

“All fine, last I heard. Branches joined a mercenary band in the north. The Silken Band,” Windle said.

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“Really?” I asked, surprised. Branches was his firstborn, but hadn’t the height of his father. He’d only been a little taller than me.

“Really. As I’m sure you know, I advise against such choices… but the entire point of them venturing forth from our nest is for them to learn. To stumble. To fail,” Windle said.

His disappointment was clear to the ears, yet he had a smile on his face. He was still proud of his son.

“I’ll check on him. When I can,” I said.

Windle nodded quickly, happy to hear it.

“Other than the brood, how goes the farm?” I asked.

“The trees grow strong. We’ll have many ready by next year for harvest,” Windle said.

“Good,” I nodded. That meant the Society will have its steady supply for another year at least.

“Our forest is safe, Vim. How many can even find it, let alone traverse it?” he asked.

“I’ve never had any trouble,” I said.

Windle smiled, but did so knowingly. He always found it funny when I tried to act like a normal human.

The sound of the shepherd dog barking filled the world for a moment, and I listened to Lomi shout something. Maybe she had finally run out of stamina and had collapsed. She sounded out of breath.

“How’s the rest of the Society?” Windle asked.

“Other than her village, not too bad. Children were born in most of the villages I went through recently. A new village is in the works, to the east near the Lake of Sand. I’ll probably head there in a few years to help them settle,” I said.

“Ah, wonderful news,” Windle nodded quickly, and went to grabbing a pencil and paper.

He enjoyed his notes.

Knowing him it wasn’t just the news I told him that he wrote down. He was probably also writing whatever strange thoughts entered and left his mind, as we spoke.

“The church is growing more powerful, but at the same time we expected it. Planned on it. So…” I shrugged, as if nothing more needed to be said.

“Was it the church that burnt her village?” Windle asked as he took notes. His wide eyes focused on what he was writing, as if he was transfixed by the words he wrote. As if he was reading someone else’s writing and not his own.

“Most likely. I’ve not verified it yet, but Lomi’s made it very clear they were associated with the Bishop near her town. They probably declared their decree before burning the village down. Might have even chanted sermons, based off the way she acts around them,” I said, remembering the moments we passed priests or monks. She always shied away, hiding from them.

“Indeed…”

“There’s a large war in the south, I’m sure you’ve heard of it,” I said, continuing with my brief updates.

“I have. My son’s warband plans to head south, to join it,” Windle said.

“Woe for those fields of flowers,” I said, remembering the vast fields. At one time they had been free of not just humans entirely, but even most animals. Now most were muddy fields. Crushed beneath soldier’s boots or their horses hooves. The flowers that somehow didn’t get stepped on would be drowned by blood.

Sadly those flat plains were perfect for waging wars.

Windle smiled softly as he paused in his writing. “Who will win, do you think?” he asked.

“The ones willing to sacrifice the most. Which today is the northerners. But things happen. You know I don’t care much for the wars of humans,” I said.

“Yet, you know them so well,” Windle said softly as he went back to writing.

I glanced to the bookshelf behind his desk. It was littered with scrolls. He was capable of making books, and did so often, but old habits died slowly.

“A few new human settlements have arisen here and there. Especially near the coast. But until they last a few decades, there’s no point putting much stock into them,” I said.

“Yet still, maps must be updated,” Windle said.

“I’ve never needed a map,” I said.

Windle ignored my bragging, and went to the next sheet of paper. Continuing his note taking.

“If you’d keep an eye on Lomi, I’d appreciate it,” I said.

“Always. We watch all we can, while we can,” Windle agreed.

I nodded, glad to hear it. This forest was a hidden grove, not yet bothered by humans, but that didn’t mean it was completely disconnected. Windle, or his children, often ventured around this small forest. To the villages, and cities, nearby.

Lomi’s new home was one of those they frequently visited.

“This is good tidings. Porka is pregnant, hopefully it will be a son,” Windle said.

That was news indeed. “Really?” I asked.

Windle nodded, still focused on his notes.

“Really…” I said softly, and listened to Lomi laughing as she spoke to Lilly.

Our kind never had many children. For Porka to be pregnant now was…

“The child may even be born already. I’ve not visited for three moons,” Windle said.

“Hm.”

“Members lost. New ones gained. Just like the forest,” Windle said, pleased with himself.

I’d not say a whole village was equal a single child, but I kept such a thought to myself.

A dog’s bark told me that they were back in the house. It had come from downstairs.

“Been some time since it’s been so noisy,” Windle said, his pencil going still.

“Owls are noisy creatures,” I said.

Windle smirked, the pencil began to twirl a little as he spun it between fingers. “So we are,” he accepted.

“How’s Lilly?” I asked him.

“Wonderful. She’s glad you’re here. You saw her smile when she greeted Lomi, I’m sure,” Windle said.

I shrugged. I had noticed. Lilly although no longer had her wings... was just as prideful and strong as ever. Most of our kind broke when they lost something precious to them.

Losing her wings had only made her stronger.

“She’s strong,” I said.

“Stronger than me, no doubt,” Windle agreed.

“Most are,” I teased.

The tall man smirked, unabashed by my comment.

He was a pacifist. His wife a warrior.

It was interesting to hear that one of his sons took after the mother. I’d need to meet him again.

If anything to teach him a few things, to keep him alive as long as I could.

“Vim!” Lomi’s voice now came from inside the house. Being shouted from the stairwell.

Windle’s eyes finally left his note-taking as we both listened to her quick footsteps. She was running up the stairs, looking for me.

“And our silence broken,” Windle said with a smile.

“Was it that quiet in the first place?” I asked him as I stood. To open the door to the study, so Lomi could find us easier.

“The forest is never quiet,” Windle said briskly, standing to join me.

Opening the door, I sighed as Lomi rounded the hallways corner. She smiled as she saw me, and picked up her pace.

She was covered in dirt, as if she had been digging with the dog.

And based off the wry smirk... ready to tackle me.

Wonderful.