"—the river split in two. How was I supposed to know which one to follow?"

I joined the group as Lyong neared the end of his extensive storytelling of the last twenty-four hours.

My skin flushed from the heat of the fire as I neared it, plopping down on the log that I shared with Mitch and Ella. Mitch sat close enough to rub elbows; Ella perched delicately with a foot of space between us.

Nattaniel was sitting cross-legged on the ground, near enough that he could grab Mitch if she bolted. It boggled me how seriously he took his job, making sure she had zero chance of escaping — even if it would be suicidal.

Lyong was sprawled out on a log next to his friend. Where Lennon T. James sat with his back straight and his elbows leaning against his knees, sturdy and solid and steady, Lyong leaned to the side with his legs crossed at the ankle, languidly draped on the log like it was a settee.

Gino Morton, who was massaging the muscles of his neck with his fingers, leaned his lower back against our log and called, "To be fair, Lyong, most of us knew that we had reached the part where the river converges."

I straightened, trying to picture how it would look on a map. "The River Zonn comes from two different rivers?"

"No. The Kelineen joins it after splitting miles North of the jungle's edge." Lennon T. James sighed, the fire playing with the colour of his eyes.

"Tier-kin! You have grown stronger than you were last time you visited." The chief, To'an, lowered himself to the ground. He clasped his hands around his knees, the gesture making him seem younger.

Lennon T. James shrugged. "I spent last winter in Tenzatu."

"You know, chief here can speak in the Common Tongue, and I'm sure your biographer would appreciate knowing what you're saying so she could provide us with a complete and accurate account of your adventure." Wade Lyong tossed another small fruit in his mouth, his eyebrows rising sharply when we made eye contact.

I opened my mouth to intercede, plead off as not needing to interrupt their conversation, when the adventurer spoke.

"This is one of those rare moments where Lyong is correct." He faced To'an again. "I was in Tenzatu last winter. Before they allowed me to go where I wanted, they asked me to prove myself."

To'an threw his head back in a laugh that startled Elle, who shook the bench as she tried to hide the way she jumped.

"Tier-kin, I am surprised you were able to come back." His accent was thicker than Kita's, who had still not made a reappearance.

I looked for her every time I saw warm brown skin, or a warrior's cloak, or a spear. I needed to return her bow and quiver. The weapon was heavy against as it leaned on my back.

"I hear, Shae Burrower, that you slaughtered a pack of taneapies on the way here." Chief To'an's smile glinted sharply.

Lyong choked on the fruit he had just popped in his mouth. Gino and Mitch both turned to look at me. I shifted awkwardly on the bench.

"Shae couldn't cross a river without falling in it. I'm pretty sure she can't shoot an arrow without poking her eye out. For Fate's sake, she wears yellow."

The arrow ripped through the cherry-sized fruit in his fingers, impaling the white and brown fruit. The tip of the arrow sunk into the bark of the tree behind Lyong, the shaft quivering from the abrupt stop in momentum.

Lyong's mouth fell open. "D-did you know this, Jamie?"

"Can you shoot with a gun, Shae?" asked Gino, pulling me away from the conversation that ensued between the quiet explorer and his talkative friend.

I lowered the bow to my lap. "No. I was in archery as a way to earn an athlete's scholarship."

Mitch chuckled, bumping her shoulder against mine. "Why don't you carry a bow of your own?"

"I--" I shrugged, unable to formulate an answer. "My bow is a competitive bow. I didn't think it would be useful."

Both Gino and Mitch laughed. Awareness settled around my thoughts as I looked from the long knife Mitch carried, either strapped to her thigh or belt to the gun on Gino's back. I felt like a fool.

Mitch saw my eyes lingering on the hilt of her knife. "Oh, I don't know how to use it. My friend gave it to me when I tried to join the Thief's Guild."

"The..." My attention snapped to Nattaniel. "Tried to?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Yes. For initiation, they give you an assignment. Too bad for me, Lennon T. James and Colette were still at Colette's, and I walked myself into a mess."

Nattaniel shifted. "You were more successful than you make it sound. Lennon T. James caught you with the tip jar, a cookie jar, and carrying the day's earnings."

"Yes, well, if it wasn't for the coffee grounds I knocked over, I would've successfully joined the guild. As it was, I was caught and tossed in a grimy cell."

Nattaniel shot her a look. "Being a part of an organisation of thieves is not a good thing, no matter how professional they make it sound, it's not right."

"It is if it allows you to eat and pay the program you were wanting to complete." Mitch twisted some rope between her fingers.

"No, you need to find a proper job."

She sniffed. "Don't you think I tried? Being trained by the Guild would've enabled me to complete my machinations program, which would've allowed me to get a proper job."

"Mitch!" I looked at the girl, who had seemed so dangerous when I first met her. "You mean to tell me you've never committed a crime?"

"No," she sighed, the corner of her mouth twisting into something mischievous. "My only crime was to be born poor."

"She was caught stealing, Shae," Nattaniel interjected, the wry tone in his voice pulling laughter from both Mitch and I.

Gino propped his elbows back onto the log. "So, to clarify, I have spent the last few months intimidated by a thief who can't steal?"

"Hey, now!" Mitch protested as I laughed a bit louder, feeling silly for my wariness of her and my sensitivity to her past.

It was a moment we would all recall.

The four of us laughing quietly as Mitch confessed to being incompetent, Lennon T. James and Wade Lyong bickering while holding a serious conversation with To'an, and Elle Siwatskie toying with her torn skirt as she listened.

Shirka's roar shattered the laughter that had encamped around the bonfires.

Several strangers reached for their weapons, others clambered to their feet and stared into the shadows of the trees, while others immediately looked to "Tier-kin" with a question written on their faces.

Lennon T. James was on his feet and walking before the snarling sound ended, raspy and worn.

"Shae, your Golden Glows are most likely waiting with her if you want to join me."

I grabbed Mitch's hand and pulled her along with me, following the explorer without question. "I would go just for Shirka."

"She must be healed."

A frown tugged at the skin on my forehead. "It's not been long enough, has it? She was hurt too badly for it to heal so quickly."

Lennon T. James shot me a glance over his shoulder, easy to miss in the night. "Not in the Death's Garden, Shae."

🙞

Shirka did not wait for us to come to her.

We'd hardly stepped past the circle of light when a dark blur leapt from the cover of the trees, bypassing Lennon T. James and hitting me with the force of a hundred textbooks.

I collapsed onto the ground as the weight settled on me, so familiar since the first time this happened on the veld. The pain of my body striking the ground with so much added weight and momentum vibrated, the rattling of my ribcage causing a stitch in my side.

My arms wound around her neck. Her tongue was rough and wet against my chin, my cheeks, my forehead. Though she was mostly lying on me, her one paw clutched my shoulder, the claws sharp against my skin.

"Shirka!" I crowed when I found my breath again, my struggling lungs incapable of fully bringing my words to life. "Hello, sweetheart. Are you okay? Here, let me see."

My hands pushed at her but she did not budge. I cupped her face, forcing the bright eyes to fix on my gaze. "Let me up, love. I need to see."

She purred, the sound seeping into my heart with a warmth like cocoa on a rainy night.

Shirka let me up, backing up so that I could sit. She went so far as to show me her side, then gingerly lying down and rolling so that I could see the scars cutting through her fur.

My fingers gently traced them, making sure they were completely closed. They were.

"Good girl," I praised her, allowing her to get back up and curl onto my lap, though she was too big for it.

A familiar hum halted all conversation before it even started.

Then a river of Golden Glows streamed from the trees, from the same direction Shirka had come, and I was once again surrounded. The buzzing wings and hanging legs and glowing abdomens brushed my skin, crowded my vision. They were happy to see me--it was something I knew deep inside of me.

For the first time, I was not repulsed by the insects. I felt like a puzzle piece that had found its puzzle.

"Hello," I crooned, holding Shirka still when she huffed an annoyed growl. I was not so willing to part with her yet.

"Shae, please let go of my tiger." Lennon T. James crouched near me, eyes on his beloved tiger. "I'd like to hold her."

"No," I replied, scratching behind the cat's ears. "She's mine now."

He must've read the teasing in my tone because a slight smile tugged at his lips. "Shirka."

At his call, a gentle command, Shirka left my lap and padded over to her first friend. She purred again, offering her head and body to be petted. Like a house cat.

A very affectionate, humble house cat.

"Tier-kin! She has stolen your tiger and your independence?"

"Not at all." Lennon T. James' expression snapped shut like stone, and he stood without meeting anyone's gazes. "I think it is time for us to sleep. We are all exhausted."

Yes, we were.

After eating until we were ready to burst, on fresh meat and cooked vegetable and a wide selection of fruits, exhaustion had tinged everyone's interactions and made the lapses in conversation more comfortable than they otherwise would've been.

Of course, Elle Siwatskie had been embraced as a 'Daughter of Demmi,' catered to her aversion of all meat. Her meal had been ornate, beyond our simple fare of meat.

"Of course." To'an motioned towards several of his people, who scurried away to prepare something. "I will show you the way. You will, of course, have the same place you always do, Tier-kin."

He clasped Lennon T. James' shoulder, monopolising him in a quiet conversation no one else could hear as they led us towards the explorer's residence.

Gino helped me up, and I walked with him and Mitch as we tailed our leader. Lyong was right behind us, blessedly quiet and staying as far away from my Golden Glows as he could.

They had found their usual perches, though I felt like more had joined the initial group. My hair felt completely invaded, and I fought hard against the crawling sensation on my scalp. I did not mind them on my shoulders, clinging to the straps on my torso or my pants, but I did not like them in my hair.

"Where did these come from?" asked Mitch as we walked, and I was happy to regale her with the full account of my tumble into the river.

It did not take as long then as it does now.

🙞

Lennon T. James lived in a hut-like cabin.

Whenever he was in Bomsta, that is.

After the girls had spent a considerable time at one of the naturally heated bathing pools, which was fed by an underground spring and smelled strongly of some mineral, we clambered out in search of the clothing the matdas had provided. They'd left in order to give us privacy.

"Shae, your feet!" called Elle as I tucked myself into a towel.

I looked down, shocked to see the many scrapes and scratches on my skin. It was bruising, the more I looked at it, the more aware I became of the pain pulsing from them. My weak explanation went along the lines of, "Oh. I lost my boots this morning."

"Bloody..." Mitch trailed off, soft words showcasing all the horror and concern both of them felt. We were finally friends.

I huffed a laugh. "It will feel better tomorrow. I'll ask Lennon T. James for new boots if he can find any."

"Good idea," Mitch said, ever practical.

Elle nodded. "If you need salve, we can ask."

I thanked her but decided not to.

We dressed in soft, white cotton fabrics. Elle, with loose pants and a short blouse. Mitch, formfitting pants and a tucked in shirt. Me, in a gleefully attained shift-dress.

Then we, wrapped in comfort and camaraderie, found ourselves back to the explorer's cabin. Only Lyong, Nattaniel and Gino were there.

Lyong was having his wet hair trimmed by Nattaniel, sitting obediently on the steps to the patio. The snip snip of the scissors entwined with the soft hum of the Golden Glows, who had perched on the railing of the wrap-around porch.

"That's too short! Bloody hell, Borys, what are you doing?" Lyong's complaining was emphatic but he held very still as the soldier held sharp scissors close to his head. "Whose bad idea was this?"

"Yours," huffed the soldier, his hair tucked into fresh braids. I spied several gold beads hidden among the strands, curious as to who had done his hair so quickly and so neatly for him.

Surely he didn't do it by himself?

And then there was Gino, with his copper-streaked hair a bush of curls. It was long, framing his head and bobbing when the twitch caused his head to tip. Both Elle and I shared a soft laugh we knew he wouldn't take as judgement.

All of us entered the small cabin together.

There were three rooms: a bedroom dedicated to him, where he moved a lot of his maps and notes and books and bound parchments. We mostly did not go in there. The common room held a table and a makeshift kitchen. The second bedroom, which had been used as storage space, was converted to the place where we camped out.

Mitch and I shared the bunk they carried in.

Elle, after a bit of coaxing, joined us.

Gino and Nattaniel were happy on the floor, the latter devoting himself to the space by the door. Just in case someone tried to leave while he was sleeping.

Lyong, as the exception to all rules, had taken up residence in Lennon T. James' room. He had been alone, spending many hours devoted to the cleaning of his hair before sleeping like the dead.

The adventurer, it was revealed the next day, hadn't come home at all.

🙞

darlings,

i am such a bad writer, oh my, i realised two important things: the jungle needs a name, and did i even give LTJ & the crew proper descriptions?

did i tell you about the mop of curls Gino has? the subtle clay-brown tone of LTJ's skin, the freckles on his nose? the slight gap in Nattaniel's teeth, the dimple in his left cheek, the walnut brown of his skin?

i've mentioned shae's auburn hair and alabaster white skin, mitch's amber gaze and her golden brown skin, elle's dazed blue eyes and blonde tangled hair.

i have been remiss. i apologise.

my characters are all beautiful, flawed humans like all of us. i strive for their different voices, their different habits, their different physical attributes -- and i'd appreciate A LOT of feedback regarding this.

<3 klara