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.