live!
Until I got there, I supposed. Then what? How would I announce to the city—and thus the world—that I had discovered the Sixth Kenning? How would I do it without immediately placing myself in jeopardy? And when they asked me what underneath the sky possessed me to wander unarmed into a nughobe grove in the first place, what would I tell them about my family?
I didn’t get a chance to think about it right then since the stalk hawk flew tight circles about my head and screeched.
“What? You’re free to go if you wish,” I said. “I’m grateful to you.” I waited a few moments to see if he would react, but his behavior continued. “Would you like to stay with me?” I asked. “I am going to fill some empty water skins, and then I’ll keep walking. You can wait for me there if you like,” I said, pointing to the nearest lip of the pond.
The stalk hawk screeched once more and spiraled down to settle on the edge of the pond. He—she?—was a beautiful creature, tall legs for walking in the grass and her feathers all wheat colored, so that if you did not see the black eyes floating above the ground or the sharp yellow beak, you would have difficulty seeing her in the grass for most of the year. There were green-colored birds who took advantage of the spring and summer camouflage, but I had always preferred the coloration and build of stalk hawks, graceful both on land and in the air.
Drawing out an empty water skin, I continued to speak to her as I filled it. “I’ll assume you’re female until you tell me otherwise. What’s your name?”
She didn’t screech this time, merely made a short, high-pitched declaration: “Eep.”
“Pleasure to meet you, Eep. I’m Abhi.”
I taught her to nod and shake her head for yes and no, though she didn’t have the same muscles and couldn’t really shake her head. Instead she had to rotate it or twist it, which was disconcerting to watch but a clear difference from a nod.
“I’m going to a human city a couple of days’ walk to the north. If you’d like to join me, you are welcome. I should warn you that there’s a bloodcat who’s been tagging along. He’s not here right now, but he might show up later. I’ll make sure he doesn’t bother you, though. Want to come along for a while?”
She nodded, and I grinned. I made friends much faster out here than I did among humans.
My empty skins filled, I sloshed out of the hidden pond and took my bearings. I’d left the wake of the kherns that had killed my family since they had veered west; I was traveling across trackless grass now, but I couldn’t get too lost. If I simply kept heading north, I would eventually run into the wide Banighel River, and Khul Bashab was situated on its bank.
Eep sometimes walked through the grass with me and sometimes flew. Murr rejoined me in midafternoon while she happened to be airborne, and she screeched at his appearance.
“Hello, Murr. I’ve made a new friend. I want you to be friends, too. Murr, meet Eep. Please don’t eat her. Eep, this is Murr. He won’t eat you. Right, Murr?”
The bloodcat tossed its chin upward. “Excellent. You see, Eep? We can travel together in peace.”
The stalk hawk screeched once more: She was doubtful. But soon she spiraled down on my left, keeping me between her and Murr, and walked along, her head twisted to watch him. He watched her. And eventually they faced forward and ignored each other. With sunset perhaps an hour away, I mentioned to both of them that I would need to make camp soon. I had water to boil and needed a fire, and for that I needed wood.
“Eep, would you mind looking for some shrubs or trees that I might use for a campsite and then direct me there if you find some? If we’re lucky we can find something to make a perch for you also. Then you can rest above the grass and see well.”
She took wing, circled above us once, then flew northeast. I turned that way, and after about ten minutes she returned, calling down to me that she had found something. She banked and flew over my head in a straight line to point the way, and I picked up my pace. The sun was sinking, and our shadows stretched out for lengths on