I sighed quietly as I watched the scrawny, freckled red head stumble around the beach. His name was Daxter.

This was the boy that all of the villagers have been avoid for the past week. The boy that Jak will soon befriend, even though I've warned him not to. And this is the boy who at the age of fourteen will be turned into an ottsel.

Maybe it's cruel of me, watching this abandoned skeleton of a boy wander aimlessly because he had no where to go and ignore him. But I'm just trying to save him. Save him from becoming an ottsel, and being forced to grow up to soon and to save the world.

I walk home slowly. Pretty soon the sun is just about to set. I know that when I reach home that Jak will not be there. I know that little Daxter will not be on the beach. But instead of walking over the bridges that lead me to Sandover Village, I walk past the yakow farmer's house, and into the Forbidden Jungle. Very quietly, very stealthily I find my way to a bush of berries. These are a type of berries that are found in bushes covered in thorns. In a bush about ten yards away is young Daxter, crying softly to himself, holding his finger up. On his finger was a thorn.

The poor kid was hungry and thought he'd pick some berries. Little did he know that the bush contained thorns. I didn't help. I didn't need to. Jak was now in view. Slowly he approached Daxter, who stopped crying. Daxter seemed to try to shrink against the tree he was leaning against. Very gingerly Jak took his hand in his. Daxter's eyes widened. Obviously he wasn't used to being taken care of. Very carefully but quickly Jak pulled out the thorn. I sighed. I couldn't stop them. Not now.

Daxter's eyes widened. His buck teeth bit his lower lip. I knew this meant he was afraid. But then Jak flashed on of his lopsided grins.

I smiled sadly. I had only seen the older Jak smile once. It didn't seem to have the warmth of his five year old self.

"Why'd you help me?" Daxter finally asked. His voice was distinctive. My older self warned me it was a voice I would learn to dread. Jak shrugged. Daxter cocked his head to the side, thinking. "What's your name."

Jak bit his lip. He didn't say anything. In fact, he wouldn't talk for another thirteen years. Daxter seemed to understand.

"You don't talk, do you?" Jak shook his head. "That's okay. I'll call you…" Daxter searched his thoughts. "Jak." He nodded his head. "That's a good name. What do you think?" Jak nodded. "Okay. That's great. You know what I think? I think we're gonna be the best of friends Jakkie boy."

I chuckled softly and left. Keira didn't like being left home with a babysitter for too long. She was just as stubborn as her mother. My thoughts strayed to Jak and Daxter. They would be inseparable now…