Don't eat the biofoam

I woke up this morning to the sound of animal calls; long, low, whooping sounds in the distance. Nearer, I could hear the rustling of leaves, as if something were hopping amongst the branches of my tree. That creeped me out a bit. For all I know Minerva has squirrels too, only these are venomous and eat brains or something.

I got up, pulled on my clothes and opened the tent flap, scanning the branches in front of me and below.

Nothing.

A leaf drifted down in front of me and I glanced up.



Without thinking I flung myself backward into the tent, reaching for my survival knife and swearing enough to strip paint. When the rest of my cerebrum caught up with my base instincts, and my heart was only marginally close to a blowout, I peeked my head back out of the tent.

There were three of them now, all appeared to be male. The one who’d been in the branch above was now clinging like a monkey to the limb my tree tent straddled. The second was lazing across another branch like a rust-colored panther, yellow eyes watching my every move. The third, blue, white and black, was gap-grinning down at me from the same branch his yellow friend had just abandoned.

“You guys scared the bajeezus out of me,” I blurted. The three stared blankly at me for a moment. Then the yellow one bobbed his head and raised his palms for a second in the informal version of Azu-nah greeting. He pointed to himself and said “Ikaylay,” then to the rusty one (“Sodo”), then the blue and black (“Nohwasi”). I figured those were their names. Then Ikaylay said the phrase Kohric had taught me the previous day, asking permission to come into my personal space.

I was so excited to apply some of my knowledge that I didn’t even stop to consider. I did the head-bob bow and repeated his greeting gesture.

I was suddenly surrounded by flowing, twisting Azu-nah. The three all seemed to want to examine my tree tent at once. Only two of them could cram in at a time, and that was with their tails hanging out the door and in my face. The third, Sodo, busied himself by poking my ears, sniffing my hair, and seemed to be utterly baffled by my toes.

I tolerated it for a bit until I realized the crunching sound I was hearing was them eating my rations. It took a lot of shouting, gesturing, gentle shoves, and even a bit of a tug on the blue one’s tail before I got them out of my tree tent. They’d slobbered all over my binoculars and my multi-tool. Half, HALF of my rations were devoured (how the hell can anything eat that fast?!), and one of them wouldn’t let go of the biofoam tank from my first aid kit.

It was the blue one, Nohwasi, and he kept turning the tank around, examining it with quick, jerky head movements, almost like a bird. I gestured to him in a “come” motion and mimed him giving up the tank. Ignored me and began chewing on the nozzle.

“No, don’t do tha---“

Schhhlllllrrrp!



It was difficult not to laugh at the expression on his face. He looked looked like he’d utterly failed at shaving. But I was more concerned that he would try to eat the biofoam. I mimed spitting, waving my hands urgently. He seemed to get the idea. Poor guy. I’m pretty sure that stuff tastes like crap.

I rescued my biofoam tank just about the time when Kohric came to my rescue. He took one look at the carnage around my tree tent and shoo-ed the trio off with several sharp, barked words. Other than Nohwasi, who was busy scraping biofoam residue off his tongue with a claw, they didn’t seem very apologetic.

So, that was my lesson for the morning. When someone asks permission to touch your stuff, they really mean it. Though, Kohric's reaction makes me hope they were a bit over the top. But at least they were entertaining!

Now, today's goal is to try and articulate to Kohric that I need to test some Azu-nah food before I can eat it. I mimed talking with my hands and asked “Teach?” Kohric gape grinned and gestured for me to follow him.

“Come. Kohric is thanda-tu. Kohric will teach words.”