Daniel brushed Sam aside when he tried to eat more of the ointment.

"Away with you. It'll make you sick."

Sam blinked two golden eyes at him then lay to rest again.

There was no time for distractions; Daniel had to finish applying the ointment before Lala awoke.

She wasn't good around water and with three days of rain so far, she slept most of the day away. The hell when she awoke was inevitable. As much as he considered offering her the chance to dress the wounds by herself, he also feared giving her a bowl—any blunt object, really.

Keeping her dry was easy as she loathed the rain to the point where she hid herself under the many coverings and refused to budge. Despite this behavior, she still managed to cause trouble.

The bigger worry was where she took up residence. Since falling down here three days ago, she'd refused to rise up to the proper part of the house again.

Her companion ate well; sometimes he grabbed the food from Daniel so fast that it rivaled Sam in speed. No such luck with Lala. Eating was a chore. It was such a worry that he went out into the rain this morning to gather whatever he could.

At this rate, he might be rid of her in under a week. That wasn't a thought he relished, however. He didn't want her to perish. When she slept she wasn't so menacing. She never moved and on several occasions he mistook her for dead.

The ointment was for her legs mostly, and the horrible wound up her belly. When she stirred, he rushed to pour the rest of the ointment onto a long leaf then a cloth which he brought to her throat. Maybe today she'd allow it for a bit longer.

He managed to secure it before she boxed his hand aside despite her wrists being bound.

More out of a desperate attempt at trust than necessity, he decided not to bind her feet. Several kicks to the throat and head in the last three days made him conclude that he was a stupid glutton for punishment.

When she turned over but paused, he froze, too.

The bandage. She felt for it but he pushed her hand aside. "No. It'll make you feel better. It had to have helped."

She ripped it off and threw it down and he stifled a groan.

No doubt this meant she wouldn't eat today, either. Water was all she'd take, and not much. Today, too, she gave a portion of the water to Sam before drinking it.

Daniel worried about that strange habit but then he concluded that it was a good sign. Better she treated animals well than otherwise. That didn't help with food, though.

Each thing he rolled to her went untouched.

Frustrated, Daniel took several back.

Lala met his gaze. The rain fell, like gentle footsteps all around them. There wasn't much to like about Lala but her eyes were nice.

A flick of her toe sent the goose apple flying. She kicked it before it fell—catching Daniel in the right eye.

"Ow."

Three more came his way, in his ear, his nose and his cheek.

He gave up. It was all too much work.

When he thought to stand, he caught sight of one apple by Sam. Lala watched the fruit. She nudged it with her foot. Daniel wasn't sure what she meant to do.

"Jaguars don't eat fruit, Lala."

She ignored him. Usually when he called her that name she'd regard him. Maybe she didn't understand his words, but she knew that name to be hers as of now.

Rather than go above to eat, Daniel decided to try a new approach. He sat down and gathered the fruit to him.

He barely took one good bite of an apple before Lala snatched it away. At first chewing well, he slowed in his pace. She eyed him.

For whatever reason, she ate the remainder. It wasn't the same apple he offered her so he tried to give her another one like it—maybe she preferred these.

Nothing. She didn't move.

Daniel sighed and stood. He would go check on the other stranger.

"Eat or don't eat. I no longer have the energy," Daniel lamented as he climbed up. He left the fruit behind.

Today when Daniel approached, he was surprised to see the man crouched up, cradling his right arm.

With how prickly Lala was, Daniel didn't trust the man here, either. They came from the same tribe no doubt. While Daniel had figured they were two lovers, heartbroken at Lala's illness so they decided to travel to the great beyond together...that wasn't the case.

If this was how the women of their tribe acted, Daniel feared the damage a man could do.

Still, Daniel walked around the cage to get a better look at the unruly guest turned prisoner.

The arm the stranger cradle looked injured.

"No. I checked them," Daniel muttered.

Caged animals sometimes self-harmed. This was a man, though. And he ate well and didn't cause nearly as much headache as Lala. Like Lala, each attempt made in an effort to communicate with this man provided a wild expression and no response—not even a grunt. Daniel took it for his imagination but he swore the man had either no tongue or an injured one.

He thought to open the cage to get a better look but a cry and a noise from Samson below had him on his feet. He jumped down into the opening in time to see Lala kicked Sam in the face when he tried to lick her foot.

Frozen, Daniel lost his power of speech. It was sadder when Sam lumbered away.

"You kicked him? You kicked my friend. You don't ever kick my friend!"

Daniel wasn't sure she understood him or cared; she just turned those piercing eyes on him. He stomped away instead of wasting another minute on her.

Sam rested close to the edge—a bit too close for Daniel's liking. Daniel rubbed the cat's head, cooing. "It's all right, Sam. It wasn't your fault."

Beyond the rainfall, most of the graying day came into focus.

Lala lumbered to them, but Daniel turned his back to her. A tentative hand reached out to touch Sam's head. When the cat's large tongue flicked, Lala pulled her bound hands back.

Daniel risked meeting her gaze. She looked shamefaced—something he hadn't thought she was capable of.

Still, Daniel wasn't having it. She was untrustworthy; she'd hit Sam.

Sam purred at the awkward pats on the head.

That couldn't bring Daniel to acknowledge her presence.

She took her hands back then handed something over, her eyes wide. It was the bandage.

Daniel looked from it to her and back again. Thoughts of what she did to Sam were hard to shake but the chance to put that ointment on directly might not come again.

It took some doing to calm but Daniel took the cloth and secured it around Lala's neck yet again.

Sam flopped his head down in Daniel's hands. Lala flopped down as well. She wasn't close, but she was quiet for a change.

Lala tensed. A second later, Daniel discovered why. A light flickered in the distance.

"A message, Sam. A message's coming through." Daniel jumped to his feet and retrieved the lamp. He put it down and waited for the message to repeat. His spirits sank when he covered the lamp, revealed it, and covered it again to convey an answer back. "No good." He regarded Lala in confusion. "You're not from the Swats. They say they aren't missing any people."

Two big eyes took him in as Lala watched him. He'd hoped she'd speak, even a little. Maybe her words could give him a hint as to which tribe she came from.

Swats were mostly nocturnal. Five other night tribes filled the area but none had responded. The rains were to blame, but he concluded that in the morning, he might find more luck with another day tribe.

"I wonder where you're from," he puzzled. No less than twenty collectives inhabited the area. He hated the thought of having to take both Lala and her companion to each and every one.

Best to wait for a message.

"Maybe you're from the Gunners," Daniel said. "You fight like it."

The next day came with three messages. Daniel sat with his small mirror, flicking back an answer to each. A higher elevated tribe requested word on a man who disappeared, but it was too early to tell. One tribe. One tribe was missing two people.

Heart in his mouth, Daniel used his mirror to ask. "A man and woman?"

No answer.

The response that finally came was confusing. Daniel patted Sam's head when the cat nudged him.

"A woman and a boy?" Daniel muttered to himself. Maybe he'd gotten the message wrong. Maybe it meant male and not boy. The man above in the cage was hardly what Daniel could call a boy. He risked asking. "Are they exiled?"

The light shimmered back. "No. Their family worries."

With that, Daniel rose, rather pleased with himself.

"We've found your people, Lala," he said, climbing to the upper area. The trunk in his room had been shut for three years. He hesitated to open it now. A rustle behind him brought him from his daydream.

Lala stood with Sam at her side.

She still wore Daniel's old clothes. When he brought her back to her people, what she wore now wouldn't be acceptable. It was the least he could do considering how tightly he had to bind her.

He opened the trunk.

The creaking of the metal of the box made Daniel sit back. Everything looked the same. It was all still folded so perfectly. He picked up the comb on top and gripped it tight.

Sam didn't come to meddle as he usually did. For that Daniel was thankful. As eerie as it was to see all these things again, a part of him was happy he could bear to regard it now.

He reached in for the colorful dress. There was another one below it but it could stay. When he stood with it and held it out, he was pleased to see that it might be Lala's size. The bangles weren't necessary but he considered them.

Lala's brown hair was too short for the comb, though. Daniel carried the dress to the window and held it out to let the breeze take some of the age from it.

"I think it will suit you. And you can keep it, too."

Daniel looked back at Lala but froze.

She peered down into the trunk and picked up a small shirt. It was so tiny it resembled a toy in her hand.

"Wait." Daniel rushed to snatch it from her. He slammed the trunk shut, the small shirt inside.

Lala colored and it was by no easy means. It took Daniel longer to realize his fists were clenched.

She stepped back. She did a strange thing; she bowed her head, apologizing. When she walked out into the hall, he said nothing. A short time later a thud from below meant she'd returned to her previous perch.

Sam wisely followed her.

Daniel took the dress and sat down by the trunk. He twisted it in his grip, now reluctant to part with it. Though it took him some time to muster up enough courage to open the trunk again, he did so with a sigh. The little shirt remained on top.

Most children stayed wrapped in fur. Daniel had insisted on it himself. Still, when he was presented with the shirt he hadn't complained much. The baby never wore it.

He gripped the blood stained dress on the bottom and his heart bled. Now more than ever, he was eager to be rid of the two strangers.

Colorful dress in hand, Daniel jumped down and brought the knife forward.

"If I let you go, will you behave?"

Lala gave no response.

Letting out a sigh, Daniel stepped forward and snipped the green vines with the blade.

"There." He handed the dress over.

Though he thought to leave, she undressed before him and dragged the dress on; she was eager to return home.

Daniel gathered a pouch of food for the journey. Sam would last another day without a big feeding though he'd need something soon. As they readied to go, Daniel put on his own boots and brought some shoes from the trunk. They didn't fit.

They made do, somehow. Now for Lala's companion.

When they arrived at the cage to find it empty, Lala gasped. Daniel took some relief in seeing the man gone; it was hard to feed the both of them.

He turned to convey as much, but Lala grabbed him by the throat and demanded, "Doth is ie?"