Beach Beast

Crap, I got so obsessed with telling the vengeance story that I completely forgot to talk about yesterday! Sorry.

So, yesterday was actually pretty cool. I had another lesson with Kohric, which was fascinating in and of itself. He taught us about the body of water we’re living next to. I know I was already talking about this when we first arrived, but to recap Kohric; it’s pretty much an epeiric sea (which, if you hate geology, means a very shallow ocean sitting on top of a continent). The water is very shallow compared to what a human would be used to, and it’s completely loaded with different living things. Kohric told us all about some of the plants and animals that inhabit the shore area, and promised to go into some of the bigger sea creatures next time. I’m excited.

But the most interesting part of yesterday came after the lesson.

I was playing around on the beach with Eyani and Oshtik. I introduced them to the art of making sand castles (though it probably was pretty stupid, since the concept of “a building” is lost kinda on them). Oshtik was quick to inform me that you don’t build things on the beach, you make pictures and stories.

She even spent a good ten minutes trying to draw me. I don’t know that my pride will hold up to much of this. Even a caricature artist never made my nose THAT big, and it didn’t help when Eyani started praising the likeness. Tee-Tee Huge-Schnoze. Great.

Anyway, I was absently sitting down, doodling a happy face, when Oshtik became very excited and came slinking up next to me, pointing. She was whispering in that excited hush type of voice, like a pro bird watcher who’s spotted the rare Orange Spotted Chocobo or something.

Picking its way carefully through the shallow water was—something. Seriously, I defy you to put this thing into Earth taxonomy. It moved vaguely like a wading bird; carefully and deliberately lifting each foot and then placing it down again without disturbing the water much more than a ripple. But instead of having a long bill down in the sand, it would rest its “forehead” against the water and unroll this long trunk-thing down to the seabed. Every few minutes the trunk would come back up clutching something, and it would shove whatever it had found behind the crescent-head. When it moved closer I caught a very quick glimpse of its mouth as an object was brought up to the head. Its mouth was like a squid, only with far more “teeth.” It was a little intimidating to hear it crunching away at whatever morsel it had picked up.

Oshtik insisted I keep very still, and stay low and quiet. She explained that seeing a ba’oh is very good luck, but only if you do not disturb it. It isn’t something the Azu-nah hunt, apparently. They see it as a guardian of the beach. Through the entire whispered explanation, Oshtik was making these slow gestures; I couldn’t help but imagine her dressed in khaki and talking with a British accent, like one of those video nature guides. It was cute.

The ba’oh (which I keep thinking of as a beach beast) spent perhaps five minutes in our presence, tops. It crunched up several unfortunate sea creatures and then disappeared into a cluster of bushes without a sound.

I like it. It’s nice to see a completely benign creature like this, and get to see it with completely natural behavior. It was very, very cool. I hope I can see another one someday.

---

Author's Note:
Because of the time of year, O faithful readers, I am going to be very, very busy. I hate delaying posts or putting them off, which is most likely what would happen a lot over next two weeks. So instead I'm going to put the blog on a mini hiatus. There will be no official update next week or the week after, and I will pick up again starting the 4th of January. I will very likely post a piece of art or two to keep dust from accumulating, but we won't hear anything from Tee until the new year. I hope everyone enjoys their holiday of choice, and that you all have a Happy New Year!

Like Little Girls

It took me a good twenty minutes of pacing up and down the beach before my face stopped burning, and I stopped trying to think up patterns for Ikaylay pelt coats and Soto shoes. Nohwasi would make an excellent rug. I wanted to tie their tails together and then chase them through a very dense forest.

But eventually my humiliation cooled and I was back to where I’d been before running into the Trio. I paced slowly along the water line, picking at interesting shells and whatnot. Or, at least, I call them shells. Many of them are flexible as if they’re made of keratin or some other protein instead of the usual calcium carbonate of Earth shells.

They were interesting enough, but without any kind of frame of reference it was difficult to learn much from them. Was this conical thing a shell for some kind of Minervan cephalopod thing? Or was it only a tiny piece of armor from something bigger? A shed claw sheath, perhaps? There was no one around to tell me. So I gathered up a handful of the most interesting ones to ask Kohric about later, and continued.

Not long into my walk I noticed I wasn’t entirely alone. One of the little flying creatures happened to dart past me, and as I turned my head to follow it, I happened to catch sight of a yellow tail and a suggestion of long ears. It was only the motion of the tail that alerted me. I’d never have seen it if not for turning my head just at the right second. For a panicked half second I thought it was Ikaylay, and the other two were about to descend on me from behind and scare the crap out of me.

But then, seeing he’d been spotted, the Azu raised his head and I saw that he was clearly not Ikaylay. The stranger carefully showed his palms in greeting and bobbed his head. It’s a wonder I ever saw him. His tawny hide and green markings blended beautifully with the grass. He looked faintly familiar; one of D’Keda I’d never talked to. But I remembered his green curlicue markings from seeing him with the hunters.

I greeted him back, and asked his name.

He seemed very shy. He kept turning his muzzle a little to the side like I’d seen some of the youngsters do when they were unsure of themselves. It was oddly comforting to see someone feeling as awkward as I was.

“My name is Slaasek,” he said, and slowly came to sit nearby. “You are Tee-Tee.” Again that muzzle turn, but his eyes were always fixed on me. “I watched when the three played their trick.”

“They have played two tricks now,” I explained to him. “I want to make them stop. I want to trick them too.”

“Yes, I watched the trick-in-the-water,” he said. “The three think they are more clever than Tee. This makes Tee sad, yes?” At this I wasn’t sure whether to be comforted or creeped out at the suggestion that this fellow had been watching me since we’d arrived at the beach.

His kind eyes decided me on “comforted.” “Yes,” I said. I debated the merits of revenge versus taking the higher ground. Then I thought about Ed having trouble getting taken seriously. Ah screw it. “Can you help me trick the three?”

Now he faced me a little more directly, and his mouth gaped in a feral grin.

“Yes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hardly saw him the next day, and the morning after. It wasn’t until the second afternoon that he approached me again, still doing that shy muzzle-turn. He had another Azu-nah with him, a gray fellow with a thick, fluffy mane and beautiful tattoos. Slaasek introduced him as Duryl, another hunter.



Together we sat and I watched as the two of them hatched a simple plot that would put the Terrible Trio in their place. I admit, I may have cackled once or twice.

Late that same evening, just as it was growing dark, we put our plan into motion. Slaasek lead me to a big, gnarled tiger tree that leaned over a small hillock. Sandwiched between the sloping roots of the tree and the hill were a thick cluster of short little plants. They hugged the ground like strawberry runners, and had delicate little fruits growing along the underside of the leaves. Slaasek had explained earlier that these were one of the Trio’s absolute favorite foods. They had cleared out the obvious caches days ago, and had been complaining at evening meals about not finding more.

Duryl was already waiting for us, lazing happily in the thick branches of the tree several meters above. Slaasek joined him and gestured for me to start.

I wandered in a wide circle around the tree, searching for the three little buggers, and finally spotted them chasing each other a little way off. I shouted to them as Duryl and Slaasek had said. “I have found a mystery!”

The Azu-nah are apparently more curious than any ten cats.

I almost didn’t have time to blink before they were swarming around me, asking what I’d found. I directed them to the fruit and asked them, innocent as a newborn calf, if they were something edible, or if perhaps they were horribly poisonous?

Speaking of cats, have you ever seen one looking particularly smug? Yeah. I half expected Sodo to start licking a paw.

So Ikaylay, also smug as hell, started in about how these were very dangerous, and that I should probably go away right now and warn Eyani away from the area, so he or another youngster did not think to eat them.

He was taking a breath to go further, when from up in the tree came a horrible scream, and a big gray shape dropped from the tree right on top of me. I didn’t have to act my part. I shrieked in genuine surprise and had the breath knocked out of me; Duryl was supposedly going to land next to me.

But all of that was drowned out the howls of fear that came from the Trio. I barely had a chance to register the looks on their faces before they’d flailed and skittered a good half dozen meters away, bouncing from forelegs to hind almost like startled puppies. Sodo practically disappeared in a cloud of dust.

Slaasek and Duryl sat on either side of me, loudly “kheee-ing” their amusement.

Sweet vengeance!

---

This week's cameos are Slaasek and Duryl! Submitted by Prannon and Doran respectively! Thank you for submitting them!

I also just noticed just now that I forgot to include everyone's tattoos in the images. I'll be tweaking them tomorrow or Thursday. Sorry about that!

Delay

Yes, another delay. Update Thursday when things have calmed down.

Update: To add to the joy of mandatory overtime at work, the most recent strain of influenza is circling me like a shark. I've been keeping it at bay through pure willpower and a crapload of tea. I think this week I'm going to choose extra rest and hopefully stave off the Dreaded Lurgy instead of writing the entry. The positive is that now I can spend a little extra on this week's art.

Thank you for not killing me.

Attack of the Legumes

While talking to Ed and Doc Sutherland was wonderful, I ended up feeling a bit lost after I signed off. I missed them. I missed other humans. Hell, I missed just eating a normal meal and sleeping on more than a pile of grass in a cave. But I was also grumpy with myself for feeling that way, and I was more than a little nervous I would start sliding back toward that hopeless, miserable place I’d been a few days before. I thought back to Eyani’s expression when I’d snapped at him.

No, definitely not going back to that.

I wanted to feel comfortable with the clan. They’re people too, dammit, and there’s no reason why I couldn’t find solace for my loneliness by spending time with people. Even if they do have four legs.

A very old friend of my family always told me the best way to avoid feeling down was to “get up and move.” So I put my computer away, gathered up the solar charger, and set off to find something useful to do.

Nandi and Eyani were both sitting in the shade of a tree a few meters away. They looked suspiciously preoccupied with a leaf Eyani was holding up. But I gave them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps it was a very interesting leaf.

I asked Nandi if there was anything I could do. He wasn’t terribly helpful.

“There is little to be done that Tee knows,” he said, almost seeming apologetic. “Tee cannot carve, and Tee cannot hunt. Tee does not know what plants heal hurts.” I tried not to look too deflated at this. He seemed to understand, though, and tried to cheer me up by telling me I’d probably be able to help with these tasks someday. Or, as he put it, “Under one tomorrow’s sun.”

So, without any real direction, I wandered off to find something to do. Eyani was supposed to be guarding meat, which sounded pretty boring, and Kohric needed Nandi for some unknown task. So I puttered around the shrubby area between the plains and the beach, looking for interesting plants and animals.

I didn’t get terribly far before I ran into the Terrible Trio. I’m beginning to think the three of them are joined at the hip, because I never, ever see them apart. I made the hand-greeting gesture at them as I approached, and was rewarded with funny, teasing faces and an offer to go swimming again. I stuck my tongue out at them.

Little buggers.

I was dying to prank them back, but I couldn’t decide what to do. What if I went too far and did something damaging? I didn’t want to hurt anyone, or violate some taboo. So instead I tried for a more neutral conversation, and asked them about what things were good to eat, like the koh fruit, and whether there were any dangerous creatures.

Nohwasi eyed me suspiciously, clearly scanning my frame for a hidden biofoam canister, and then settled to help his cohorts answer my questions. He still hasn’t quite gotten over his first experience with my, apparently.

They went on at length about what things were good to eat, and even began a short-lived argument about what the best fruit was in the area. But their attention soon turned to the wildlife. They told me it was unwise to wade out too far into the water, as there were many aquatic predators that prowled the deeper areas. They also told me how to watch out for some of the flying creatures when they were breeding on the beach, as brooding parents would come screaming and biting at you in a protective rage.

Then they began telling me about the most dangerous creature; a tiny, green, caterpillar-shaped creature the size of a thumb, called a “langu”. It was apparently deadly poisonous, and would crawl onto you if you sat still too long. I’ve always been the type that immediately starts feeling a creature crawling on me if someone’s talking about it, and the grass gently brushing my exposed legs was starting to make me twitchy

Just as Ikaylay was finishing his description of the creature, Sodo suddenly leapt to his feet, yelping and scrabbling at his hind leg. The other two quickly jumped away in terror. Sodo brushed furiously at his thigh, sending a small green object flying in my direction.

“Langu!” Ikaylay shouted.

I couldn’t help it. I produced a yelp almost as good as Sodo’s and scrambled away from the thing as it came at me.

It landed at my feet and didn’t move. I hesitantly peered down at it, and realized not only wasn’t it moving, but that it had no legs. Or a head. Or any other visible body parts. It looked like a funny shaped bean, honestly. Then I realized the three little buggers were making the keee-ing Azu-nah version of hysterical laughter.

Hell. I walked right into that one.

I picked up the dread langu bean and threw it at Sodo, glowering. He and the others pranced out of the way and wandered off, laughing.

I’m so getting them back now.

Eavesdroppers

Much as I was looking forward to my next set of lessons, it appears they don’t happen every day. I figured they would be a new daily routine. But when I went looking for Kohric this morning, he told me there was too much work to be done, and lessons would be tomorrow.

I’m still not used to this society’s norms. Children are expected to work. Schooling is considered secondary to basic survival. And when I stop and use my head for half a second, it makes sense. I mean, D’Keda is supposedly a fairly well-off clan (at least all of D’Keda thinks so), but they still struggle to survive. Prey animals must be carefully managed to avoid over hunting, which means the clan hunters only go out every few days. And even when they do go out, it’s no guarantee that they will return successful. Even the gatherers can have bad days. So despite the fact that a good two thirds of the clan spends much of their days just trying to feed everyone, there are times when they still go hungry. Those that are too young or too old to hunt or carry a heavy gather-basket are required to take up all the other chores of the clan: making baskets, carving tools and weapons, weaving cloth, tending the fires, harvesting medicines, scouting for predators, etc.

Several of the children had been called away on predator watch today; the hunters had had a very successful day yesterday, and much of the meat had to be laid out and dried to be saved for later. Small carnivores and aggressive scavengers are attracted to all that food out in the open, so the kids were armed with big, brushy sticks and told to scare away anything threatening the drying meat. They looked pretty funny with a tree branch in their tails, flailing and squawking at everything that moved. I went a little way off to find a quiet spot on my own.

It was for the best that I had time to myself today. As it happened, today is the thirtieth day I’ve been on the planet; check-in day.

You see, my computer automatically uploads all my information on a daily basis as a safety precaution. I have to log every day I use my chlorine reagents, for example, and then every evening that and all my the other information I log is sent via satellite to Ground Zero Station. This way they know I’m not dead, and I don’t have to have a mental breakdown about losing all my notes if something eats my computer (I’d have to bust out the “Oh Shit Box” and send an emergency beacon, but at least my notes would be safe!).

Anyway, while the uploads keep GZS updated, they don’t give immediate access to more subtle things like, say, mental state, physical problems, etc. So Ed, Dr. Sutherland, and I are required to check in with each other every 30 days. It gives us a break from puzzling out Bhukaosi for one thing; and if any of us seems to be going off the deep end, one of the others can flag the station and get the nutjob pulled out before any permanent damage is done.

So I unfolded my little solar array to get a nice, fat charge, plugged in my computer, and pinged Dr. Sutherland.

He was entirely uninterested in talking, which is to say he was acting perfectly normal. For him. The first thing out of his mouth was “You’re still sane, right? I’m too busy to haul crazies away today.” Ah, Doc. I feel the love.

So, yeah, my chat with him lasted all of two minutes. I tried to ask him about his clan, D’Moru; one of the desert tribes. He muttered something about them being very “fierce,” and was then immediately on about some of the creatures he’d encountered. Apparently there’s an animal living out in the desert that can photosynthesize sugars. But before I could grill him about that little nugget, he was off about a bunch of other plant species. As he rambled, there seemed to be something that resembled an Azu-nah nose that kept peeking into his camera’s line-of-site, but he kept shoving it away so I’m not sure. The “conversation” was pretty much over when ended his little ramble and said he had to get back. Then he cut the link without waiting for me to respond. Sigh. Typical Doc.

Thankfully Ed was better company. He also had company; there were a good three or four Azus with him that were absolutely fascinated by the “hyooman in your light-box!” They kept peeking over his shoulder or shoving past it to get a better look at the computer. They all had very bright colored tattoos, and one was a brilliant green; much more colorful than D’Keda. I waved at them. This made them worse.

Ed’s looking a bit frazzled and ragged, and he was clearly annoyed with his eavesdroppers, but he seems like he’s thoroughly enjoying himself. He says he’s had a terrible time getting taken seriously until the last few days. His clan is almost exclusively arboreal, living in the huge trees of their temperate rain forest.

“I haven’t been on the ground more than twice in the last month,” Ed said, grinning. “There are some interesting predators on the ground, so they stay up here. I had a hell of a time getting used to the height, and jumping around tree branches. Excuse you!” He paused to shove another face out of the way.

“They treated me like a baby. But a couple days ago they had a series of games, and I actually won one of the races!” He gestured to a dyed pattern across one eyebrow and down his cheek. “They gave me this as a kind of trophy. It’ll wear off in a day or two, but now they act like I’m actually a member of D’Sokati. Er.. Well, maybe not a member, but I’m not a todd--Keshay, go away!” Poor Ed.

It’s been really good talking to him. I’ve missed human company. Much as I’m growing to love the Azu-nah, it’s been lonely being the only one of my species for a thousand kilometers. We chatted for a good hour. It was a huge relief to speak English for a while, and talk to someone else who understood my experiences.

“Next time, you may want to hide somewhere!” I teased him as we were saying goodbye. “Or you’ll probably have an even bigger crowd.”

“Shut up, and be glad yours are quiet,” he grinned, and we signed off. I’m looking forward to our next check-in.

I wonder what he means about “yours are quiet?”

Attack of Reality

Unfortunately, there will not be a blog entry this week. I'm sorry to disappoint, but a series of real-life difficulties have dropped into my lap and I just don't have time to make a quality entry this week. Believe me, I wish circumstances were opposite.


I will do my best to make next week's entry worth the wait. Hope you guys have a great week!

Creation Story

I was feeling kind of emotionally ragged after making up with Nandi and Eyani. That and I still wasn’t feeling entirely comfortable with the entire clan. Their endless torrent of questions at dinner didn’t feel like they were prizing apart my very being like before, but it was still kind of a chore. Nandi mentioned something about helping me later. Hopefully that will work out.

So, I ended up going to bed pretty early and woke late to Nandi shoving his nose in my side. He babbled something about needing too much sleep, but I wasn’t awake enough to translate it in my head. I did see Nandi’s gesture to the front of our cave. Kohric was waiting politely at the threshold (note to self: the polite wait-until-the-person-comes-out protocol doesn’t include one’s roommate. Dammit).

Kohric carried me off immediately, pausing only long enough to let me snatch breakfast. I tried not to be greedy with my grabbing, and shoved several extra morsels into my jacket pockets for later. Hey, the Azu-nah have no concept of lunch, and dinner was a long way away!

It turns out I was to attend school. With the kids.

Now, this sounds really embarrassing on paper, and when Kohric first told me what was going to happen, I can’t say I was thrilled; but now that I’ve actually sat through a session I think Kohric my be on to something. The kids are more at my level. I admit it. Their vocabulary doesn’t stump me as much, and they’re still awkward and foolish in their own way. Other than the fact that I tower over them, I actually almost sort of fit in.

Eyani was there, as were Oshtik, Nyarno, and two other somewhat older (pre-teen?) Azu-nah that I didn’t know. Ghee arrived much after everyone else had arrived and settled. She still seems withdrawn. I was debating whether it would be incredibly insensitive to ask her if Nanahan was doing okay, since I hadn’t seen even a hair of her since we’d arrived. Oshtik beat me to it, though, and asked almost as soon as Ghee had arrived. Ghee seemed to bristle, but said “Nanahan eats well but cannot walk. She still sleeps much.” Kohric, clearly eavesdropping, seemed happy with that answer, and then called for the student’s attention.

Saying it was “school” is actually probably too formal a term. It’s more like a collection of small, unofficial lessons and fable-like stories to teach morals and what-not. It’s actually fascinating from an anthropological view.

For example: from what I can tell, the Azu-nah are more or less entirely illiterate. They have symbols and glyphs that stand for things, and I think they may be able to write numbers, but for the most part it’s the literary equivalent of drawing hearts and smiley faces to communicate. Kohric, though, clearly does know some form of writing. He actually used me as an example. The kids were curious about my taking notes on my computer pad. Kohric explained that I was “turning words into shapes,” and then drew a few characters in the sand. Thus went a very rudimentary writing lesson.

At the end of the lessons, Kohric said he would reward us with a story, and as a bonus we could choose which. There were immediate shouts for different story titles, but one, “The Creator’s story” seemed to get the most votes.

I was fascinated.

I cornered Kohric and made him help me transcribe it after. I wanted every word perfect. It took about an hour, but I finally got it. I think it’s fairly accurate, too. Though, a little of the meaning may have changed because I had to translate some very odd grammar bits. Here’s more or less a direct transcription

I will tell you the tale as it was told to me.

In the days before the Azu-nah, when the night sky was dark and without the stars, the Great Creator looked out over the expanse of all that was. The round world lay below and bare earth shone in many beautiful colors. But this was not enough for the Maker of All Things. There were no other creatures with reason or thoughts of their own, and this made Creator sad enough to weep many tears. Creator scattered the fallen tears into the sky to become the stars. Each star was given a name and a spirit. One of the stars was named Sukil, and he was filled with curiosity.

Creator was content with the company of the stars, and returned to building the world. Sukil stayed close to Creator, curious to know all that was happening.

When Creator asked the star named Sun to watch over the earth. Sukil asked why the world needed watching.

“Wait and watch,” said Creator, for the Maker of All things prefers that we learn for ourselves. So Sukil watched as Sun was given great size and strength with which to provide warmth and light for the earth, and separate night from day.

“Why create more light when we provide it to the sky?” asked Sukil.

“Wait and watch,” said Creator.

Creator waved one long hand and sent stars showering down onto the earth. The stars became rivers and oceans. Some became clouds that sprang from the water as Sun warmed the air, and rain fell down onto the brightly colored earth.

“Why create three different worlds within one?” asked Sukil.

“Wait and watch,” said Creator.

With the other hand, Creator sent stars showering down again. Those that touched the water were born into the sea beasts and river creatures. Those that touched land became those creatures that ran on feet, and stars that played amongst the clouds turned into the winged ones to master the winds.

Sukil was filled with curiosity. “What will they do now that they dwell on the earth and not the heavens?”

“Wait and watch,” said Creator.

Creator wished for all the world to be interconnected, and so Creator sent yet more stars to earth, forming the plants and the trees, the roots and mosses, and bid that they should provide food and shelter for the beasts, just as the beasts would provide for the plants with their bodies, and the earth must provide for and be nurtured by all.

“Why must they be bound to eachother?” asked Sukil.

Creator smiled this time. “This one thing I will tell you; if each needs the other, then no one creation will become greater than the rest. Each respecting the other will create balance, and all will flourish. Each creation must always remember the Balance.” Sukil was careful to remember this lesson.

One day, after Creator had filled the world with life, one of the stars that had fallen to earth cried out that she longed to return to the night sky. Creator felt compassion and released her from her flesh and allowed her to return to the heavens.

“Who will stay on the earth if the stars all return?” asked Sukil.

“Wait and watch,” said Creator, and another star leapt down from the sky to take the other’s place.

Creator watched the world with contentment, but Sukil’s questions never stopped. Always Sukil remained with Creator, asking why a creature was named so, or why a plant’s leaves were shaped thus. Creator became annoyed and took Sukil in one hand.

“You are so full of questions,” Creator said, “I have given you a mind to reason with. Go down to the world and satisfy your endless curiosity with it.”

And so Creator flung Sukil down from the heavens to land on the earth. Sukil’s bright glow was suddenly shrouded by flesh. Creator gave Sukil long ears for listening to all sounds, hands and a tail for grasping new objects, a long, sensitive nose, and keen eyes for observing his new world.

Sukil knew great joy, for at last he had endless things to learn and understand. Each answered question granted him knowledge, which then led to more questions. Sukil explored the world, watching the great Balance of all the world’s spirits and learning much. But as he watched the other creatures of the world, Sukil began to feel sorrow, for there was a question in his mind he could not answer.

Sukil turned his muzzle to the sky and plead his question to the Creator. “Maker of All Things,” said Sukil, “All the living creatures have others of their kind to share company. Yet I am alone. Are there no others like me in the world?”

Creator smiled. “You have been wise and responsible with the knowledge you’ve gained, Sukil,” Creator said. “You have earned a place in the world.” And to Sukil’s great joy, Creator sent a star named Yusa down to the earth, and she become another of Sukil’s kind. “Your kind will now always be a part of the earth. Remember to keep the Balance with the other spirits, and never forget that all were once stars.”

So Sukil and Yusa named themselves the Star People, Azu-nah, in honor of the Creator’s wishes, and together they explored the world and flourished. They had many adventures together, such as when Yusa stole the lights from a glow-bird so she could see in the dark, or when Sukil raced with Blue River Spirit, or when both Yusa and Sukil returned to the heavens.

But those are all stories for another night.


I can’t wait to hear another story.

Avoidance Behavior

After my enthusiasm for the breathing tree had calmed a little, Kohric kept his word and taught me how to apologize in Azu-nah.

Thorough, as always, he actually showed me both formal and informal variations. As with their greeting, the formal apology has gesturing involved. I’m sorry to say I will never be able to get my point across with gesture alone. It involves flattening one’s ears, among other things (maybe I can build some kind of poseable hat… ) so I’d have to explain what I was doing to get my point across. But it’s straightforward enough. It didn’t take me long to learn it at all.

Not nearly long enough.

With the lesson over, I didn’t have any more distractions between me and apologizing to Eyani. Nandi too, really. But mostly Eyani. I didn’t want to face either of them. So I fidgeted on the cliff edge, fussed with my computer pad, and even contemplated starting another, more detailed sketch of the breathing tree. Kohric wasn’t having any of it, though. I was staring intently at a fantastically uninteresting bit of tree bark when he suddenly swatted my shoulder with the end of his tail (for the record, that really stings).

He glowered up at me with what I assume was exasperation, and pointed wordlessly to the trailhead leading down to the encampment. I’m holding out hope that he wasn’t good enough to read my expression, and couldn’t tell just how sheepish I looked. I put away my computer and meekly made my way toward the trail head.

“Surely Eyani will not kill Tee,” Kohric teased as I headed down. I put my tongue out at him (to his amusement, as usual), and made my way back to the clan. I tried to take my time, but the trail was perhaps only a kilometer long at best, even with the switchbacks. I was there in no time. Ugh, there’s nothing worse than admitting when you’ve really bungled something. I was not looking forward to this.

My plan was to edge around the periphery of the camp, stay out of the way, and hunt for Eyani that way. And if perhaps I just didn’t find him until tomorrow, well, that would really be too bad. Really. Have I mentioned I hate admitting to screw-ups?

My plan barely lasted two minutes. So much for mapping things out. Less than ten meters from the base of the trail I ran into Nandi. I’d almost have said Kohric told him where to find me, except that then Kohric would have been able to warp space-time, and I really wasn’t in the mood to puzzle that out.

For the first minute or so my mind went blank and I completely forgot the apology lesson. I was trying to piece together enough vocabulary to say how stupid I’d been, and wondered if “fart-head” would suffice in place of “moron.” Nandi took pity on me, though. I’m grateful. “Tall Tee the Fart Head” would probably never have gone away.

“Tee no longer angers, yes?” he asked brightly.

“Yes,” I said, and smiled. His cheer was contagious. I bent my head, bowed a little, and tried to mime that I was putting non-existent ears flat. “I’m very sorry, Nandi.”

I think he found my pathetic attempt funny, but he was nice enough not to laugh in my face. He was grinning wide, though. He moved close to me and butted his forehead against my chest. “It is well,” he said, and reached to pull my head down level with his, so he could press his forehead against mine; an Azu-nah hug.

I told him how I wanted to find Eyani, and he brightened further. He brought me back to the patch of grass where the whole thing began, right near the start of the beach. As we came closer I could see a little blue lump between two tussocks of grass. Apparently Eyani hadn’t moved since I’d shouted at him. My throat closed. I felt horrible; even worse for the fact that I’d been selfishly avoiding apologizing to him. He’d been my loyal little supporter, and I’d gone and barked at him for it.

I knelt down a meter or so away from him. I could see him eyeing me through his half-closed eyelids. “Eyani?”

He shut his eyes and feigned sleep; my heart sank.

“Eyani, I’m sorry.” I mimed the same ear-flattening apology as I’d done with Nandi, bowing my head down. “I was afraid,” I said, groping for words. In retrospect my grammar was appalling. “I was afraid of being a stranger. I should not have angered. I do not want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”

I sat back on my knees and held my breath. Slowly, painfully slowly, the lump in front of me uncurled and stood up. He looked up at me with his huge green eyes, and slowly opened his mouth in a gape-grin. “Still my friend,” he said, and stretched to butt his forehead against mine. I couldn’t help reaching out to draw him in to a human hug.

“Eyani is a good friend,” I said.

Carnivorous Respiration

Kohric and I sat beneath the breathing tree for a long while before my lesson began. The slow, bellows-like sound the tree makes is soothing in a way I’m not sure I can describe. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine you’re hearing the planet itself breathing; and that if you could just center yourself a bit more you could feel its very heartbeat. It’s a restful experience. I can imagine wise old gurus twisting themselves up into pretzels and meditating under this kind of tree.

I was feeling better than I had in weeks. You don’t always notice that you’re under stress or constantly nervous until you get a respite. Then suddenly you feel like you’re expanding after having been squashed for so long. The longer I’d been feeling out of sorts, the less I’d tried to learn about the Azu-nah and Minervan ecology. I impulsively decided to remedy that immediately, and asked Kohric out of the blue why a tree, a plant, would need to breathe at all.

“To eat,” he said.

“To… eat?” I asked, and stared over at the tree in confusion. Kohric seemed to find this highly amusing. The guy is cryptic just to mess with me. I know it! But instead of answering me, he got up and put his hand beside one of the fist-sized openings in the trunk. I followed him, and as I approached he began pointing.

“Here,” he said, gesturing to a thin, shiny strip of clear goo sitting in the base of the opening, “smells of food for small creatures. They fly here. They come close or go inside.” The tree took a “breath” and I could see the glop shiver as air was drawn into the tree. “Tree breathes in, and creatures are caught inside,” Kohric said, “They are trapped.”

Without warning he grabbed my wrist and shoved my fingers up into the opening. For a horrible second I could feel tiny, cold, slimy little nub-like things wiggled along my fingertips. It was like I’d stuck my hand into a nest of baby octopuses, or teeny sea anemones. I jerked my hand back and flapped my wrist in disgust, sending globules of sticky mucus flying.

Ugh!

Kohric found this even funnier than my earlier confusion. I flicked mucus at him.

“Inside here,” he said, returning to his pointing, “are many small... mouths.” He gestured for me to look inside. My image of sea anemones wasn’t that far off; tiny polyps, almost like corals, lined the inside of the opening. I could even see a few tiny animals caught amongst them. It was gross, but I was too fascinated to care.

The tree made its breathing sound again, and this time no air moved in or out of the opening we stood by. I turned to Kohric. “It does not breathe out?” I asked.

He pointed up into the tree’s branches. “Breath comes out up in the leaves.” He gestured to a low-hanging branch, and I could see the leaves rustle. Tiny holes on the underside of the branch above were blowing air down and across the lower leaves.

I was absolutely fascinated; so much so that I immediately pulled my computer pad out and attempted to puzzle out a cross-section. Kohric watched from over my shoulder and explained it to me as I went. He was actually incredibly knowledgeable about the internal structure of this thing. I have no idea where he’d have learned it.

Anyway, here’s what we ended up with: The tree “inhales,” pulling air (and unlucky organisms) into its feeding tubules. Tiny coral-like polyps trap and digest the captured prey. I’m assuming this provides the tree with an otherwise rare/limited nutrient, like a Venus fly trap catches insects to get nitrogen in poor soil.

Once inhaled, the air travels into a large chamber near the base of the trunk. This structure is surrounded by some kind of flexible, muscle-like mass that can expand and contract.


When the plant needs to exhale, the mass expands, drastically shrinking the air chamber, and forces air up into the branches. Tiny air holes on the bottoms of the branches release the air. According to Kohric, there are tiny flaps (just like the epiglottis in the human trachea) that are forced shut against the feeding tubes, so that air only goes out through the upper branch holes. And similar flaps keep air from being inhaled from the branches, so maximum force is applied to trapping food in the feeding tubes.

The feeding tubes are obvious in their structure. But the odd branch openings are more of a puzzle. I do have a hypothesis, though. Now, this is just an assumption of course, but if this tree uses CO₂ (or some other type of gas) to synthesize sugars like Earth plants, then having a way to circulate air over the leaves would significantly increase its growth. It’s the same type of principle that makes Earth plants grow better if you talk to them or play music next to them. The sound waves circulate air, allowing the plant better gas exchange. Except this tree may do it itself.

I love science!

Extra! Extra!

Okay, so we're going to do something a little different this week. I've had several people ask me how they can get involved the Project, or if they can make their own Azu-nah. I think I've found a solution:

Movies and TV shows have actors called "extras." These are the people you see in the back of a coffee shop somewhere, or walking down the street while a main character is running to work. Occasionally they'll get to do something more fun like get stepped on by a dinosaur, shot by a bad guy, or get eaten by an alien.

So if you want, now you have the opportunity to create your own Azu-extra!

Here's how it works:

• Choose one of the blank line arts below (I've included one for males, females, and a blank/bald one for anyone wanting to go crazy with hairdoos or wants a skin-head).
  

JPEG versions are available if you need something other than a PNG.

• Using the medium of your choice, design your own Azu-nah! Choose a color scheme, design their tattoos or jewelry; you can even give your character a background story if you want.
• Name your Azu-nah.
  
• Send your Azu-nah to worldofazunah@gmail.com!

Tips on Designing your Azu-nah: Azu Physiology

• Skin Color/Pattern: Patterns can be pretty much anything; stripes, spots, patches, rosettes, solid, you name it. Azu-nah skin colors tend to be a little more limited. They're more or less all earthy tones. Muted blues and greens are possible, but they are rare, and tend to show up in small, secluded populations. Flaming bright stuff like neon just isn't physically possible. Sparkle-Azus don't exist. :P
• Tattoos and Skin Dyes: Azu-Nah are VERY fond of tattoos. They're also big on skin dyes, both temporary and permanent. This is where one can go a little berserk with color. Neons still aren't in the cards, but if an Azu wants fire red hair? Dye it! Bright blue rosettes? Dye! Purple skin? .. You get the idea. ;) Try to suite their body art choices with their profession (An eye-searing orange Azu would make a crappy hunter.)
• Eye Color: Eyes are generally shades of yellow, orange, or greens. Occasionally they can be shades of blue. Red eyes are found only in albinos.
• Jewelry and Hair: Feel free to give your Azu braids, a cropped mane, long, flowing locks, or any other type of hair style. Azu-nah are also fond of jewelry, both metal and woven/beaded. So if you want to give your Azu bangles, torqs, bracelets, necklaces, earrings, etc.

Rules and Regulations:

• Any Azu-nah you submit will become the property of Project: Azu-nah and its creator. This means I can use the character however I like. This isn't to be mean; I have specific plans for Tee and the Azus. I can't derail them because someone wants their submission to become Kohric's mate or something. You can specify your preferences for your character's use, and I will try to honor them, but I can't guarantee anything.
• Your character will only be an extra. This means they'll be getting simple cameos at most. They will likely not even get a speaking part. But it does mean you may get to see your submission in Project artwork or have them do something neat.
• I reserve the right not to use your submission in the Project (if you submit a neon pink Azu with seventeen lip rings, fishnet leg warmers, and rock band tattoos you probably won't see your Azu in the blog. :P)

Submissions will be open for 1 month, starting today. All submissions must be in by midnight, November 12th.

I can't wait to see what you guys submit!

Breathing Place

Eyani practically became my shadow for two days after our little pow-wow on the beach. He was never waiting near the entrance to Nandi’s and my cavern or anything. But when I would go to join the clan for the morning meal he’d suddenly be at my side. He would stay glued to me until a little while after the evening cook fires were banked, and then would up and disappear.

I was grateful for his quiet company for the most part; though I was a little worried he was doing the Azu equivalent of playing truant. I still don’t know how kids are handled in the clans. There isn’t the human type of child rearing where kids follow their parents around and learn from them. They just kinda run around as far as I can tell.

Anyway, he was following me around pretty much nonstop. He would talk to me here and there, and would even ask me some of the same questions the others did. It didn’t bother me as much coming from him. He wasn’t fifty different individuals clamoring at me all at once, or a feeling of being crushed by a thousand alien things. He was just little, timid Eyani; about as far from intimidating as humanly (Azu-ly?) possible.

By the third day, though, I was starting to get a little irritated. I could barely pee without him around. It was like having a little blue nanny or something. Except instead of scolding me, he’d just stare up at me with his huge green eyes and ask if he could touch my eyebrows or something. I tried not to be upset with him. It wasn’t his fault I was feeling so out of sorts, but enough is enough.

I’m embarrassed to say I did end up snapping a bit.

I was sitting just on the boundary where the plant life ended and the beach began, scowling at a structure on one of the plants. It looked like it had flowers growing out of little pneumatophore-like structures at the base of the stem. The hell?

Eyani was flopped next to me. Nandi came trotting up to us and began examining the plant from over my shoulder. “Do you want to eat this thing?” he asked cheerfully, “You like so many plants.”

I ignored him. Eyani perked up at Nandi’s arrival, though, and asked me if I wanted to eat it too; which then prompted Nandi to ask me eating only plants made my bowel movements more difficult. That was a bit more than my current mood could handle.

I stood up suddenly, sending Eyani sprawling (I’d been his shoulder rest), and glowered at the two of them. I didn’t know how to say “None of your business” in Azu, but got my point across.

“That is not for you to know!” I snapped. “No more questions!” Eyani huddled down into a little blue lump, and Nandi flattened his ears and looked confused.

”Why do you anger?” he said. He seemed concerned, but I’m still not very good at reading their expressions. Maybe he was insulted.

I felt awful. My anger had immediately cooled after my outburst, and shame had flooded in to take its place. I turned away and dropped to my knees in the sand, sitting on my heels and feeling my face burning with humiliation. I didn’t even know how to say I was sorry in their language. So I muddled along with “It is nothing. Foolishness,” but that sounded pretty damn feeble.

Nandi didn’t say anything, and I couldn’t quite get up the courage to turn and see his expression. After a moment I heard him moving away through the grass, back toward the dens. I felt like the world’s biggest ass.

I turned around to face the little blue lump behind me. “I’m sorry, Eyani” I said in English. I thought perhaps the sentiment would be understandable. He ignored me and pretended to be asleep. World’s. Biggest. Ass.

Ugh.

I got up and began wandering along the beach’s piddly little excuse for a wrack line, kicking everything out of my way that wasn’t sand. I was getting to the point where I was seriously wondering if I shouldn’t ping Ground Zero station and ask to be removed from the project entirely (since I was clearly not capable of handling this), when Nandi returned with Kohric in tow.

Great. It’s the principal, come to expel me.

Nandi said nothing and veered off to sit beside Eyani. Kohric came straight up to me and stared up at my face. My throat closed on whatever feeble excuse I was considering, and my face began burning again with embarrassment. “Come,” was all he said, and he tugged at my wrist. I followed him in silence as he led me up the switchback path up the cliffs. He didn’t speak either. I felt worse with each turn up the path.

We went all the way to the top of the formation, where the surface was scrubbed smooth by wind and rain. There were a few plants and shrubby things crammed into crevices, but little else, except for one enormous tree clinging to the edge of the cliff’s edge. It was one of the weird “breathing” trees I’d seen when I first landed on the planet. Even from the dozen or so meters away, I could hear the slow, rhythmic sound of air passing in and out of the fluted openings on the trunk.

Kohric sat down right where he was and turned back to look at me again. “What is wrong?” he asked in English. He didn’t sound angry. I felt a little encouraged. Maybe I could avoid expulsion after all.

But how to explain everything to him? He didn’t know enough English, and I didn’t know enough Bhukaosi to get much across. I sat next to him and fumbled with my boot laces, trying to think of something. Kohric didn’t press me to speak (I still can’t believe how patient he can be) and after an eternity I finally blurted the only thing I could really think of.

“I’m a stranger.”

Kohric chirped (an Azu-nah chuckle) and butted his forehead against my shoulder. He practically knocked me over. “Come,” he said, and once again grabbed my wrist. He took me over to stand right on the cliff’s edge, under the tree. It was much louder up close.

“This is a breathing place,” he said in his own language. “Come. We will give strength to the fire inside.”

I moved so that the tips of my toes were almost hanging out off the cliff, and looked out at the seemingly endless water. The sound of the waves and the tree were soothing. The salty sea air was in my nose and mouth. A gust of wind blew up the cliff and into my face, flinging tiny drops of seawater against my skin. The warm air felt like an embrace. For the first time since I’d landed on the planet, I wasn’t analyzing anything or comparing this world to Earth. It felt like Minerva itself was giving me a little hug of welcome. It was okay for me to be here. I was not an intruder.

I didn’t even realize I had tears running down my face until Kohric began chirping again. “Hyoomans make so much water!” he said. I smiled and sat down next to him, my feet dangling off the edge. We looked out over the water together.

I put my arm around his withers and gave him a hug. “Thank you, Kohric.”

He gape-grinned. “You chose a difficult ibalamaru,” he said. “But that will give strength to you. You learn much as you walk our paths. Tee-Tee is not a stranger. I will teach again tomorrow.”

“But before that,” I said, “I need you to teach me how to say ‘I’m sorry’.”

Oops

Sorry for the last minute notice, but there won't be an update this week. Idiot that I am, I completely forgot today is my wedding anniversary. The Husband Unit is kidnapping me for a much-needed night out together. I won't have time to devote to the entry for this week without making it half-assed. :P Double post next week to make up for it.

If anyone has any questions about the Project or the Azus in general, now is a great time to ask. :)

Also, coming soon--create your own Azu-nah?

Crumbling Resolve.

The blue funk that had been bothering me the night before had largely faded by morning. I still felt a little off, but I was determined to make it a good day. I like to be alone, and I’ve never been a terribly social person. So I shored up my resolve, gave my whiney, needy inner self a little kick in the behind, and got up to find breakfast

Nandi had already gone before I’d even gotten up. The Azu-nah seem to make a habit of moving very, very quietly. It’s a little disconcerting, but it makes for an excellent roommate. I folded my sleeping bag, tided the rest of my things, and headed outside.

My determination to stay positive didn’t last terribly long. All throughout the morning meal, various clan members started asking me questions. This didn’t bother me at first. They were innocuous enough questions. I happily answered them. In retrospect that may not have been the best approach, since my answers only seemed to encourage more questions, and more questioners. Soon I was inundated.

Does it hurt to stand so straight/tall? How can I smell with such a tiny nose? How do I run fast with no claws on my feet? Why don’t I have a tail? What are the bumps on my chest? Can I move my ears? Why not? Why are my eyes “colorless”? Am I cold, since I wear so many coverings all the time? Why haven’t I gotten any tattoos? Do I have an azuku? Why is my skin so soft? Was it true that I made water every day, but I was not sick? Why don't I hunt?

I eventually excused myself and fled down to the beach to get away from all the questions. Nandi followed me. He seemed to understand that I was feeling a bit out of my depth.

“The Azu-nah are of Sukil,” he said matter-of-factly, as if that explained everything. At my blank expression he continued. “We are filled with curiosity.” He went on to say that the Azu-nah had always been curious about me, but I had so little command of the language they did not know how to ask. And my learning with Kohric, and then the physical and mental demands of the move had kept me more isolated.

“You shape breath well, now. Kohric will still teach, but now you are more of D’Keda,” Nandi explained. “Curiosity grows, and so many D'Keda ask questions.” He said it in an odd, laughing way, as if it was so obvious he found it funny I hadn’t already anticipated something like this.

I swallowed my irritation and tried to go about the rest of my day. The questions kept coming, though. Not as may as at breakfast, but when I joined a foraging party to help gather food, they pestered me about my clothes again, and asked why I could not eat the same foods as they could. At dinner they asked why I was only one color all over, and if my siblings were spotted or striped. And in the evening, when I was trying to sketch a little sand creature on the beach, there were more questions as to what all of my equipment was, why did I need it, whether they could eat it or make something of it, and many others.

I went to bed early, and woke up in the morning with a headache, still off-balance.

The barrage continued at breakfast. It was like being under siege. I didn’t know how to get away, and I felt badly that I wanted to escape at all. But all the whys and hows were making it very difficult to squelch the whiney, needy inner Tee that kept moaning about how alone and alien I am on Minerva. All the things that felt alien about the planet seemed to press down on me and interrupt my thoughts. They weren’t like Earth. They were different. Everything here is different. I kept having moments where I started longing for home, and even had a flicker of, “why did I come here?”

That pissed me off. I mean, come on! I spent a month without even seeing another human in Tanzania. I trained in a super-isloated Antarctic base with only me and one other person amidst a hundred miles of ice and nothing. Not to mention the last year training for Minerva at the lunar outpost. This should be no different. I should be prepared for the isolation, even relish it. It suits me, after all.

But, the whiny little inner-Tee wheedled, there’s a difference between being alone and being the alien under a microscope. I’m used to observing and being somewhat removed from the subject I observe. I don’t think I was really prepared for my subject to jump up and start taking notes on me back. Sharing knowledge was to be expected, but somehow this feels different. Lonely.

I fled breakfast and found an isolated patch of beach to sit and think for a while. It was Eyani who eventually found me. I don’t know if it was his withdrawn nature, or some kind of empathy for me, but when he came and sat next to me, he didn’t utter a word.

We stared down at the blue-green water together, and I tried to decide what to do next.

Song and Dance

I set my plots for revenge aside for the rest of the day, since the trio had taken themselves off out of reach. For now....

The rest of the afternoon was deliciously lazy. Nandi and I had a splash fight. I’m really starting to resent my lack of a tail. Not only does it give you an extra boost swimming, but it works as an excellent wave-maker. Nandi claimed a decided victory after half-drowning me in a home made tsunami.

I dragged my water-logged carcass to the shore where Nandi and I lounged in the fragrant plants that bordered the beach. It was a huge relief, after so many days of constant walking, to just sit and relax and feel the sun on my skin. I was just finally feeling completely dry (and thankfully I’d gotten past that weird sticky skin feeling you get after swimming in sea water), when Nandi announced that he was hungry. I wanted to applaud this announcement.

We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon and into the evening wandering the fields and foraging. Nandi introduced me to a fruit called koh. God DAMN is it good. It tastes a bit like strawberries, but it’s tart and a little sour, like a pineapple or something citrus. Nandi says the trees are relatively rare at the old clan site but that they are fairly plentiful here. I don’t know if that’s good or not. It’s like a dieter hearing Choco-topia has just set up on the nearest street corner, and they give away freebees every Tuesday. Nandi and I devoured an entire fruit on our own. I didn’t even stop to draw a halfway decent diagram. They’re pretty big, too; watermelon-sized.

I can quit any time, I swear!

When we were pleasantly full (and honestly starting to feel a little sick from ODing on koh) it was getting on toward full dark. So we headed back to the caves where the rest of the clan was gathering.

There were no normal cook fires built tonight. Instead there was only one very large bonfire that stood at the center of the little open common area near the cliff face. The entire clan had gathered and was talking excitedly. Apparently I was wrong about the whole no fanfare/greeting of the new clan site.

The Kan walked up to the fire and held his hand over it, holding a packet of something that dangled from a leather thong. I still have enough difficulty with the language that I couldn’t understand 100% of what he said. But I got the gist. He asked the land (their word includes a sense of consciousness, as if the land is a person) was generous in letting us live here, and that we were happy to see an old friend again. Then he said we would dance our gratitude until it was visible to both the land and the stars.

He threw the packet into the fire and it blazed blue-green for a moment. Then he began to dance. The clan began to sing in time to his steps, thumping tails on the ground, or stamping feet in a primal beat. The Kan’s dance seemed to be a series of poses that flowed into each other. He would slide into one pose, hold it for half a heartbeat, and then slip to the next one, all the while circling the fire.

Once he completed two cycles of the dance, the rest of the clan filed in behind to join him. Nandi dragged me along, even though I couldn’t do the dance properly. I can’t really do the quadruped steps, and I still don’t have a damn tail. But no one seemed to mind, and Nandi seemed to get a huge kick out of my attempts.



The celebration went on for a couple hours. There were more dances, singing, and lots more flaring colored fire. Eventually, though, the fire burnt down and we slowly made our way to our caves to go to sleep. I barely got my sleeping bag out of the pack before flopping into it.

But tired as I was, I couldn’t quite fall asleep. As comfortable as I feel with the Azu-nah, and as welcoming as they’ve been, tonight’s dancing really brought it home again how alien I am here. I simply will never be able to truly fit in with these people. Not that I’m ever going to go crazy and pull a Dances With Wolves. But the barrier between me and the Azu-nah made me feel like I would never be anything but an outsider, an alien.

It took me a while before I was able to quiet my thoughts enough to fall asleep.

Alien Waters

I had expected to greet the clan’s new home with some sort of fanfare or at least some special words; a moment of silence? Something. But nothing of the sort actually happened. It was mid morning when we reached the beach. I know I’ve been using vague terms for time. It’s probably annoying. But you and every school kid knows the Minervan day is only 21.73 Earth hours long, and it really doesn’t give as good a frame of reference if I say it was 0800 on the Minervan clock. Mostly, though, I’ve started to fall out of the habit of thinking of time as a number, and more of a state of the day. It sounds stupid, but it fits my current situation a lot better than 0800’s.

The shore was surprisingly quiet. There weren’t much in the way of waves, and the usual watery beach noises were mostly absent. There were no mewing, squawking gulls or pelicans, or any other sea birds. Instead, there were other calls that were disturbingly alien. One was a series of odd, low, mournful sounds. Have you ever played “music” on a wine glass? That thing where you wet your finger and run it around the lip of the glass? You get these lovely pure notes, with a faint echoing quality. This was a bit like those sounds, only lower, much deeper, and with an organic sound to them that vaguely reminded me of a whale call. It was a haunting sound to begin with, and the fact that I couldn’t figure out what was making it creeped me out even more.

The other noises weren’t really creepy, but they messed with my head a bit. For example, the clicking chirps that immediately made me think “songbird,” were actually coming from pack of little six-legged ground creatures that were prowling the wrack line several hundred meters away. And a series of mechanical clacks and snaps that registered in my hindbrain as belonging to an insect of some sort, actually belong to this ocean’s “sea birds.” There seem to be several kinds of them. They’re really hard to see, since they go shooting by really fast, but all the species I could see seem to have two sets of wings. They aren’t actually birds, of course. But I can’t help seeing a flying thing and immediately thinking “bird.” I’m hoping to get a better look at them as we spend time here, so I can tell you what they actually are.

The Azu-nah were fairly leisurely with setting up camp. Everyone chose somewhere to live. There were a few coveted caves that caused a few disputes, but they were settled surprisingly quickly. There weren’t enough caves for everyone to have their own. I ended up sharing with Nandi. Kohric’s cave is only a dozen meters away, and Oreeaht is our next door neighbor. I’m pretty happy with the setup.

After we’d set our things down and had a short rest, most of the clan, myself included, headed down to the water for a wash up. It took all my willpower to test the water’s composition first. The ever present chlorine is there, but it’s more or less entirely been bound up by the other minerals in the water. So it means the water is really, really salty, and a little gritty. It had my eyes burning at first.

The Azu-nah are very picky about keeping their belongings clean, but absolutely no one went into the water wearing a bag or clothing of any kind. But while the Azu-nah run around more or less in the buff to begin with, I was feeling a bit more …shy. I’d stripped to my underoos and was about ankle deep when Kohric and Nandi both came splashing up to me.

They didn’t exactly forbid me to wear anything in the water. But they said that the salt and other assorted particulates would make me sorry I did (well, they said “sand”, but I got the message. Chafing sucks, no matter what species you are). Also, it’s apparently a bit of a social faux pas, and would make me look like a total idiot; the Minervan equivalent of a noob.

It took me a good twenty minutes, but I did manage to get up the courage to strip down. I practically sprinted to the water and submerged to my shoulders. But other than a few innocently curious questions about what the funny things on my torso were, they didn’t give me a second glance.

And, really, by the time I was in the water, I was so grateful to finally get clean that I wouldn’t have cared if the global counsel president had walked by at the moment. There wasn’t any soap, of course, but the salty water got most of the grime off by itself, and a good scrub with a handful of sand took care of the anything more stubborn. It was heaven.

The only downside to my bath was at the end, when the Terrible Trio decided to pay me a visit. Or, rather, an ambush. Now, I’m still not sure what’s IN the water here, right? And when three splashy, roaring somethings descend on me and give me a good dunking, I kinda, sorta, maybe freaked a bit.

The trio found this utterly hilarious. I chased them around a bit, attempting a revenge dunking, but they were too fast for me. Damn tails. I need better propulsion. They found my failed attempts even funnier. I contented myself to splash them ruthlessly for a few minutes, and they eventually took themselves off to harass some other victim.

But it’s not over. Vengeance will be mine!

Sticky Situations

It ended up taking four days, and part of the fifth morning to get where we were going.

Nanahan actually did fairly well for herself, all things considered. The Kan’s apprentice already knew how to set up a sling for her leg, so apparently she’s not the first with an injury to a hind leg. Her injury seems to be doing okay. She has been very stoic about the whole ordeal. Even in unguarded moments, the most she'll admit to is that the sling makes her back ache. I've been wondering whether my efforts with the butterfly clips really helped her, or whether she survived purely off her own stubbornness. Talk about being tough as nails. And thanks to her two helpers, Sodaosi and Paksh, she managed to keep up without much fuss.

My taking over her former job was actually a lot easier than I thought. Ghee was by far the most troublesome of the children when I first met them, and I figured I'd be chasing her and Nyarno around constantly. But ever since Nanahan’s injury, Ghee has been quiet and hesitant. The only few incidences I saw any hint of her old self was when another youngster got too close to the edge of the group. Then Ghee would loudly bully the would-be-wanderer back to safety. The adults in the group seemed to be okay with this behavior. I think maybe they felt it would help Ghee come to terms with her mistake. I followed their lead on this. I don’t know enough to make a judgment.

All of Ghee’s bullying meant that the other youngsters turned to quieter items of interest to pass the time. Nyarno was too busy pouncing on each and every moving object in front of him to take much interest in me, but Oshtik and Eyani spent most of the trip practically glued to my shadow.

The first day was fairly dull. I don't think anyone was really complaining, mind. Nanahan's injury was more than enough excitement for the entire trip. But as the day wore on I was starting to get a little bored. The rolling, undulating topography made it hard to see more than a kilometer or so in any direction, and I began to get very tired of climbing down a hill only to have to start back up one a couple hundred meters later. The plants and animals I could see were the same ones we'd had for the last two days, so playing the "What is this?" game with the children got old pretty fast.

By the second day, though, I was lamenting the loss of boredom. The "small biters" that Nandi had described began to appear about mid morning. There weren't many at first, so few that they didn't immediately draw attention. Only enough to make a few clan members swat or scratch absently here and there. But within an hour everyone was scratching, and tiny yellow creatures were humming through the air, seeking whatever soft, yummy piece of you they could find to chew on. The creatures seemed to target Azu-nah ears, and the thin, soft skin around the jaw and throat. They found the same places on me, but also went for the backs of my knees. They aren't blood-suckers, by the way. Which is why, apparently, they found me just as edible. They took little pieces out of your skin, like a horsefly bite. I hope I gave them all indigestion, critical hemoglobin poisoning or something, because their little nibbles hurt like a bitch.

Fortunately, the Aket-oizo called for a pit-stop soon after we realized we were infested, and broke out the repelling sap the clan had brought. I wanted to bathe in the stuff, but I had to make do with slathering it all over every centimeter of exposed skin, and even rubbed it into my clothes a bit. It stank, kinda like mildew or old gym socks. But it could have smelled like rancid elephant puke for all I cared, because it kept those evil little yellow monsters the hell off me.

The biters hung around for a day and a half, and then abruptly disappeared. Oshtik explained (with some clarification from Kohirc later), that they relied on a short, fat, shrub-like plant for moisture. The plant only grew in small pocket populations scattered across the plains. And since there was no rain or other water source for kilometers around this time of year, the biters were relatively restricted.

I was deliriously grateful when they were gone. The repellant sap was a godsend, but we had to keep reapplying it throughout the trip. Otherwise the evil little buggers would immediately home in on a place where the sap had dried and flaked away. And worse, if I didn’t slather the hems of my clothes with it, the beasties would crawl up my pant legs, or down my shirt collar and start taking pieces out of me. So I was sticking to my skin, my clothes, and anything else I touched. I had gummy twigs and leaves in my hair. By the time we escaped the biters’ territory, I felt like a grass version of Swamp Thing.

The Azu-nah seemed to be just as uncomfortable. Eyani was particularly miserable. Everyone with long manes was braiding and tying back their hair to keep it from getting gunked up or sticking to their skin. Poor Eyani kept valiantly trying to scrape his gooey forelock away from his face and tie it up, but hairs kept escaping and were sticking to his nose and eyelids. I took pity on him and bound his entire mane back in a funky French braid thing. It was cute. He looked like a little highbred pony decked out for dressage. He was inordinately happy with it, and predictably Oshtik and Nyarno immediately came running up to me and shouting “Now me! Now me!”

Oshtik wanted me to teach her how to do it herself, and I let her practice on my hair a little. I love how lively her mind is. She’s really, really bright. Nyarno… well.. I only managed to get about half of his done before something small and bouncy flitted across his path and he vanished out from under my hands to give chase. He hasn’t seemed to have noticed his unfinished state yet, and it’s kept everything off his face well enough. So oh well.

The fourth and last full day of our trip was hard. While we’d ditched the biters, we’d exhausted the vast majority of our water supply. Kohric insisted there was plenty of water, both to drink and for bathing, when we reached the new clan site. The water shortage also brought to light the reason for their odd fasting. By now I was absolutely starving. I’d used up the last of my tiny food stash the night before, and I was about expecting to start hallucinating like a cartoon, maybe think the neighbors were walking sandwiches or something. So I finally came out and asked Kohric why we were subsisting off rations that would make Gandhi look well fed.

Our vocabulary gap has shrunk enormously since I first joined D’Keda, but Kohric still had a hard time explaining this one to me. From what I could gather, Azu-nah metabolisms are far more resilient than a human’s. They can drop to very low levels when food is short, and then bounce right back when food sources become regular. The trade off is their metabolisms also require a fairly directly proportionate amount of water to process whatever amounts of food they eat. And, apparently, when an Azu eats very little, the body’s water demands drop substantially. They’ve learned to exploit this quirk of biology to reduce the amount of water (a heavy, energy intensive burden) they need to carry on a journey. Kohric also said the Sa-kudayu prefers to bring very little food so that “we do not move a plant outside its home to take another’s.” That caught me off guard, and had me ruminating for hours after. I would never have thought the Azu-nah had any concept of something as “progressive” as invasive species. They keep surprising me.

The end to my fast came this morning, when we finally reached our destination. I was staggering a little from dehydration, and my stomach still feels like it’s trying to devour my backbone, but we finally, FINALLY made it.

The old clan site was a scrubby stand of trees in the middle of high, rolling, grassy hills. This area is very different. The hills had become flatter as we grew closer, and now we’re on a broad, flat coastal plain. There’s a ridge of high, rocky palisades that stretch along the western side, and down right into the sea. The sea is shallow, only a dozen meters at most, but I only know that from checking out the satellite readouts on the Marco Polo before heading planetside. There are hollows in the seaside cliffs. That’s where we’ll be living. I can’t wait to get moved in. I’ve had enough travel for a while.

But first I really, really need a bath.

Counsel

We stayed in our makeshift camp for two nights and a day. By the second morning the Kan seemed satisfied that Nanahan was not going to die from her wound. I still don’t know the Kan’s name. Everyone simply calls him Ana-kan. The “ana” is a bit like the Japanese suffix “san” or “sama.” It’s an honorific prefix that indicates the person is highly respected.

Anyway, he seemed to think that Nanahan would recover. The wound has finally stopped oozing every time she moves, and the surrounding skin seems to have begun knitting around the smallest parts of the cut. She has to be very careful not to flex her leg, though, or the clips will begin to pull on parts of the cut and tear open the newly grown tissue. The Kan will lay his hand very lightly against the wound. I can’t tell if he’s carefully pressing on it, or if he’s feeling for heat or blood flow, or something else entirely. But he will bob his head and gap grin just a little after. So that seems like a good sign. But then he asked her to try to extend her leg just a little, no more than a centimeter or two. Poor Nanahan’s face crumpled and she spat something harsh about pain everywhere. He kept curling his lips back and making little “ses, ses” sounds at the way her leg would move.

I asked Kohric if the Kan had said anything to the others. Apparently Azu-nah don’t have medical privacy concerns, because the entire clan was apparently periodically updated on Nanahan’s status.

“Blood has stopped coming,” Kohric said. “No fire has come inside. This is very good. But Ana-kan still worries. The leg has much pain, and he fears it will become hard here,” he patted his knee and lower thigh. “If this becomes so, Nanahan cannot hunt, cannot run.” Kohric tilted his head to inspect my troubled expression. “Tee-tee, it is not yet so,” he teased. “Must not make this face-shape. Tee looks like old ja’sssst’ok passing waste.”

Kohric is a sweetheart. I don’t know what I’d do without him.

Since Nanahan was on the mend, it was time to decide what to do next. I had my most crowning moment since landing on Minerva. The clan chief (Aket-oizo), began walking around the clan and asking people to come with him. I was shocked when he placed a hand solemnly on my elbow and asked me to come too.

The gathering wasn’t terribly large. There were about fifteen individuals there, including the Kan, the Sa-kudayu, Kohric, and one of the hunters I recognized from the hunting party that was attacked back at the old clan site. One older Azu female distributed a small drinking gourd to everyone, with perhaps a thumb-width of dark liquid in it. My computer determined it was a tisane from one of the sweet grass-plants they regularly eat. It was painfully bitter, but safe. Kohric explained that it was an old tradition to drink this tea at a gathering. It was a symbol of togetherness and trust. After everyone had drunk, the three leaders each took turns speaking, with Kohric murmuring explanations to me.

They were trying to decide how best to proceed. The Kan was saying Nanahan could not even try to walk for many days yet. The Aket-oizo did not think it was a good idea to stay, as the clan’s supply of water was limited to what they were carrying. I noticed he said nothing about food supplies (The Azus had not eaten more than a handful in the last two days. I do not understand how they can keep from falling over!). The Sa-kudayu did not want to remain in the area for fear of attracting predators, and concern that the aggressive gensidik may move their grazing back close enough to cause another attack. But they were all dedicated to making sure Nanahan was kept safe.

This actually surprised me a little. Don’t get me wrong, I never thought the Azu-nah were cruel or anything. But tribal lifestyles, especially nomadic tribal lifestyles, don’t generally lend themselves to excessive charity or compassion. Not because of innate cruelty, but because resources are so limited, and the environment so demanding that sometimes the needs of the many will outweigh one injured individual. To be blunt, I didn’t know how D’Keda could afford to dedicate so much care to Nanahan while on the move, without suffering further casualties or loss of precious resources.

But it was eventually decided that Nanahan would get another day to rest and recover as much as possible. Then her injured leg would be gently wrapped in more of their soft, gauzy weaving, then carefully bound in a kind of sling. The clan could not slow their pace or delay any further, or they would run out of water. So a pair of Azus would take turns supporting Nanahan and helping her keep up. I was asked to take over Nanahan’s job as youngster-guard. That kind of trust is incredibly touching. And intimidating. Kohric teased that I would only have to make them tall for most of the trip, not all.

We should be at the new site in about five more days, or a hand-and-tail as they say. I hope my back can hold out.