With the dew still fresh on the leaves of our fields, I finally tell Kura that I'm leaving today.

To my surprise, she doesn't seem shocked or anything. She just gives me a solemn nod, pats me on the head one last time, and gives me a sad smile.

"We all come and go," she says. "Be careful."

As I turn to leave—with Kotengu leading the way to the nearest climbable Tree branch—I see some of the Fallen preparing again to work the fields. Some of the older men smile at me as I pass by, and I can't help but think again: they seem to be good men, good enough that Kura accepts them, good enough that they can all work here together in harmony.

Why would they have been Fallen?

What Falls a good man?

Why Fall a good man?

I don't know where Misaki onee-san is, but I get the feeling that I won't be able to leave this place if I see her.

Kotengu finds a good branch. I pull myself up, one hand to the next, one foot after another. Slowly, but surely, I climb up.

My path back to Takamatsu Village is still very long, but a path slowly climbed is better than no path at all.

The climb is an arduous one. Unlike my first time Falling—when Akashi dropped me from the Precipice—I was mostly unconscious during my second Fall, the Fall that landed me in the Totara Pendent under Kura's care. In other words, I won't know what to expect from the strata to follow, and I don't know how far I've fallen down.

Kotengu scouts ahead as usual. This time, however, I decide to let him do as he asks: he wishes to actually find me a workable path towards Takamatsu Village instead of only checking for safety and food. The rage I felt in his mind, the one that dropped me to my knees back when I first Fell, is still as fresh as ever. Even our time in the Totara Pendent did not deter him.

Gekka.

Oboro.

Benimaru.

Akashi.

Around two hours into the climb, the Totara Pendent has finally been obscured by everything—branches of the Tree, the giant leaves, the curving gargantuan vines I climbed up to gain footing, everything. I can no longer see the tall trees standing strong. I can no longer see the clearing in their woods, the opening where they plow their fields. I can no longer see the outer limits of the Pendent, the flying zone where Kura can appear in the blink of an eye.

I've gone much, much higher than the last time Kura took me on a climb upwards to test my korowai.

Kotengu flies higher still.

After a few more trees' tall worth of climbing, we finally arrive at a relatively flatter plain, where the Tree's inner stems intertwine with each other in such a way that it seems like there's even ground, the makings of a stratum. Kotengu seems to feel my exhaustion and turns around, flying lower and scouting ahead in a much smaller range than when he led me.

Food, he signals.

Perfect, I'm just starting to realize how hungry and thirsty I am. I haven't eaten breakfast at all, and I need water.

So Kotengu leads me to a potfruit nearby—small and wild, so not bred to be as large as the ones in our typical farms, but more than enough water to drink from—and drops me an edible fruit. This one I've seen on the tablets, which should mean that this area has been mapped by timberflyers.

"I'll take a few minutes," I say to Kotengu. "How far do you think until I can find a dumping grove?"

"Kawk." Not far.

That's good.

I munch into the fruit, pick another potfruit to drink from, and continue my climb refreshed.

The vines and stems all thicken for a while, but then I start seeing familiar leaves. They're growing slightly bigger on the peripheries. If I go further out to where I can see the sky, to the outer rims of the Tree, I would see leaves not too different from the ones I've seen before. As the sun reaches the zenith and disappears above the top of the Tree, making the day look dark, I finally decide to take another break.

"How far up have we gone?" I ask Kotengu.

"Kawk." Not enough.

"Oh yeah," I say as I munch into my lunch. "I can tell."

This time, I seriously needed to find a dumping hole, which thankfully wasn't hard to find in Tree stem groves like these. And, unlike when I first Fell, I'm not here to stay this time—I'll be climbing up and on, leaving this place, like all other animals that simply traverse the Tree.

All my business taken care of, I continue the climb as the sun slides off the dead center of the sky.

Kotengu starts actively cawing every few minutes, making sure that I can keep up with the climb just fine. By the time the sun begins approaching the Cloud Blanket, I've managed to cover what feels like a good distance away.

"We need to reach some flats before dark," I tell Kotengu.

"Kawk!" I agree.

"What do you think about dinner?"

"Kawk!"

Kotengu leads me across the opening, hopping from one Tree branch to another, then right onto a very wide berth of the Tree trunk—the flats.

Oh, yeah, I haven't prepared a leaf blanket. "Do you think tonight will be a cold one?"

Kotengu flies over my head in circles for a few seconds. "Kawk!" No.

"Should I just go without a blanket?"

"Kawk!" No.

"Got it."

With that, I spend the rest of the day traversing the stratum, looking for large enough leaves to repurpose as my blanket. The last time I had to make one, I needed to use dried tripvine ropes; I'm not sure where I could find tripvines here, though, and I don't think I have enough daylight to dry it at all. Instead, I just make little incisions on each side of the leaves, and interweave them to each other by crisscrossing these incisions—with a little luck, the sap remaining on their surface would make them stick with each other. Give them some air, and they would dry, becoming a whole sheet that should at least keep itself together for a few hours. It'll probably break with just a little force, but I don't think I move around that much when I sleep.

The sun begins sinking into the horizon by the time I finish with the blanket, and after Kotengu brings me one more fruit for dinner, I decide to tuck in early. I need to start early tomorrow, right around the time night predators go to sleep and before daytime predators open their eyes.

I couldn't find an open tree grove, so no sleeping under the tree tonight. A tall tree would be a perfect place for a Tree-dwelling predator, especially a climber, so if I can't hide in its groves, I try to avoid them. There are a few shrubs, here's to hoping they can hide me well.

The day turns dark, and with Kotengu keeping watch, I tuck myself into my itchy blanket and close my eyes.

*

After always sleeping so soundly in the Totara Pendent, it felt weird to have nightmares again. What was even weirder, however, was being awakened again in the night. As bad as the nightmares were, back in Takamatsu Village, I used to only wake up thanks to the nightmares, not because something took my attention so much that I had to wake.

This marked the second time since I Fell that I was awakened at night by something that was not my dreams.

Worse yet, this time, it's not something I heard—it's Kotengu in my head.

DANGER.

I jolt up immediately, fully awake and standing, and all I can think of are what's on my right and left.

Nothing.

Ahead.

Pure darkness.

... behind.

As I turn, I can see it appear from the midst of the darkness: a claw.

At first, it was a claw.

Then it was an arm.

Then it was a whole wing.

And then it was a beak, a countless array of smaller fangs, a lot of frizzy feathers, and a pair of very angry eyes.

The eyes face forward, and they stare right at me.

Before I even notice what happened, those very same eyes are suddenly right in my face.

I scream and jump back.

Kawk!

DANGER.

I jump back once more, then once again, trying to create distance between me and the creature. This one isn't anywhere as big as the great lapwing—maybe standing at around my height when in all fours. Like the lapwing, it uses its wings as forelimbs; unlike the lapwing, it has actual claws peeking out, not just simple spurs.

It's still rather dark, but my eyes have slowly adjusted. The beast has left the shadows, and under the moonlight, I can finally see its complete shape.

It's a gigantic bird, much like the great lapwing. However, instead of a hard beak, it has an elongated mouth with rows of little fangs in its jaws; the snout looks wider than the sharp pointed beak of the great lapwing. Its eyes are bigger, but the eyeballs look smaller, making its tiny eye slit stand out so much more.

Wait a second. I know this creature.

It hurls forward again with that unbelievable speed, but as soon as my head connects this beast with its name, I jump out of the way before it gets me.

This creature is an ambush hunter.

"Kotengu!"

Kawk!

This creature climbs, and rarely ever makes any sounds, but doesn't really use its wings to fly despite the size of its wingspan.

Whoosh—

I manage another timely dash to the side. If this creature is as decent a hunter as its juhi made it out to be, it should be used to my tricks by now.

It's not that this creature can't fly, it just chooses not to. And that's because....

I scream to the Kotengu I can't see in the night sky: "Find me a hole down the Tree! A big one!"

Kawk!

This way!

I run following Kotengu's signal, and I can feel the beast following me—not running as well, but in slow paces, floating just ever so slightly closer whenever I start to make some distance between us.

Good. I will need to keep it following me.

And I need to keep moving, too. That thing is an ambusher for a reason—its pounces are extremely powerful. However, it doesn't attack a moving prey.

And that's because....

I stumble a little, but quickly get back to running. There's something yet worse about the creature's habit rather than the pounce: it's the way the creature uses the pounce only to stupefy or debilitate its prey, and then kill the prey not by means of fatally ripping or bleeding them out like other predators, but instead smashing their disabled prey onto hard surfaces.

Its preys die slow, painful, excruciating deaths.

The timberflyers that wrote the juhi notes on these creatures added one note regarding their behavior: "Of the many things we were grateful about, we were grateful to have never fallen prey to the frogmouth."

They named the creature gamaguchi, frogmouth, after its long, rounded snouts and jumping habits, similar to frogs—other smaller, slimier creatures we sometimes find nearby potfruit gardens.

Kawk!

We're near.

I can vaguely see the dark shadow looming ahead of me. It's time to make or break.

Right at the edge of the great hole, I stop and make my stand.

The soft sound of the frogmouth's claws landing every once in a while just stops entirely. The frogmouth has fallen completely silent, which probably means it's getting into striking position, measuring my size and position and everything. The frogmouth isn't exactly a nocturnal creature, but they do prefer to hunt at night thanks to their soundless movement—many nights, the Tree is dark enough for them to hunt almost entirely unnoticed.

If it weren't for Kotengu, I'd have brutally died.

Due to its night hunting habits, the timberflyers believe that frogmouths can see well in the dark. In other words, it must know that there's a large gaping hole leading far down the Tree behind me.

... good.

I keep my ears peeled, making sure I get my timing right.

Kotengu—

I hear you.

And now just to wait.

The frogmouth would probably prefer a prey that doesn't fight back. Do I need to act more relaxed? But that'll ruin my readiness in general....

And things just fall into total silence.

Total, absolute, silence.

—it's coming.

With nary a swish of the wind, the frogmouth appears in front of me.

I jump.

I can feel the whooshing of its claws by my face—I can't see it, but that lets me know I got my timing right.

I throw my hook to the sound of Kotengu's flaps.

Kawk!

I got it!

The raven flies off into the darkness with the hook in its claws—

Now.

I grab onto its rope, still tied to my belt, and brace for impact.

In no time at all, the rope tenses—I swing hard, crashing against a wall I can't see, but I can feel it as the Tree.

The frogmouth gasps—closer to me than I expected.

... good.

It jumped to come after me.

Which means it flies.

I climb up the rope, running up the Tree until I find my hook—stuck to a branch in the darkness—and, in one swift motion, I pick my hook up and kick the Tree.

I open my korowai.

"Kotengu, time me!"

Kawk!

Now!

Well, that didn't take long at all. I let go of my korowai, letting it relax.

I fall.

This time, however, I know exactly where I'm falling.

It's not that this creature can't fly, it just chooses not to.

That thing is an ambusher for a reason—its pounces are extremely powerful. However, it doesn't attack a moving prey.

And that's because....

As I fall into the darkness, I finally see the frogmouth under me.

Frogmouths pounce and ambush, despite their large wings, because they are weak-flying creatures.

They can fly, but not for long—and not too far.

In other words, if they fall from flight....

With that thought, with all my might, with all the force I could muster from my fall, I kick on the frogmouth's head, using its head to step over to the edge of the hole I jumped from.

The frogmouth squeals in shock and promptly disappears into the dark below.

And I finally land.

Shades clear away from the moons, and I finally see exactly what I've done: the frogmouth is still falling, trying to adjust its flight and flap back, but its own powerful muscles weigh it down, and soon after, not even the moon allows me to see the depths it fell into.

That spells the end of my midnight attack.

Kawk.

It's safe.

... I take a deep breath. I can't hear the sound of flapping anymore. No more scratching of the claws. Still much darkness, but I can't feel a presence.

I look back. Nothing.

I take another deep breath.

I only know of the frogmouth thanks to the juhi tablets, and I can't believe it actually helped me fight. That said, I can't help but finally take notice of how it felt like to fight properly armed: I managed to get the right information, make the right decision, arm myself with the right equipment, asked for the right help at the right time, and found myself doing the right parts of the right plan to actually handle fighting something that could've ended me in a very gruesome manner.

I take one more deep breath, and slowly, my breathing slows down.

Did I just survive a frogmouth attack?

Kawk!

You did.

"It's thanks to you," I say to Kotengu, who faithfully perches on my left shoulder. "Thank you."

Kawk!

Anything for you, girl.

"Oh, what would I even do without you?"

Kotengu doesn't answer, but rubs his head on my hand.

There's no hint of agitation from Kotengu's feelings in my head, so I think it really should be safe right now. The frogmouth was a real danger, but at least it was nowhere as terrifying as the monster I came across in my Fall....

Which means I should probably take the chance tonight to properly rest while I can.

Who knows when I'd get back to the monster's stratum?

*