Disclaimer: I don't own anything except Dezerae. If I did, Daxter would be human a lot sooner.

It's my first fanfiction, so tell me how I'm doing. Good? Bad?

And it's set during JakII, just so you know.

Chapter 1: Yakows and Packing.

"Nice girl, good Bessie." I murmered to the startled yakow, stroking her muzzle. Farmer Zeb had asked me to find the poor thing. "It's okay..."

And I thought Lurkers would get less horrible with their dwindling populations. Frightening a mother yakow! The mongrels!

Brushing a lock of firey-red hair behind my ear, I coaxed Bessie from the beach back to her pen, where her calf was waiting. Poor little guy. When we reached the destination, I saw Farmer Zeb snoozing. I swear that man could sleep through a thunderstorm. He snored as loud as one.

"Hey, Dezerae!"

I looked up from my temporary charge. Keira was heading toward me, a troubled look on her face. "Hey, Keira!" I answered.

"Have you seen Jak? I can't find him anywhere! I even checked the old treehouse."

I scratched my head. "No. Come to think of it, I haven't seen my brother since this morning, either."

"Boys..." Keira said with a mock-exasperated look on her face.

"Tell me about it. They save the world and then they're everywhere but here."

"What is Bessie doing this far from the pen and her calf?" She asked, changing the subject.

"According to Farmer Zeb, a couple Lurkers tried to steal her. He asked me to find her. You wanna come say high to Malo?" I offered. Keira nodded.

Malo and his father, Tank, were waiting at the gate. Tank was pacing anxiously, obviously worried about his mate. Farther back, Losa, Trix, and the rest of the herd were napping in the shade of a well-placed tree. Malo pranced up to greet us, braying at Keira's heels. Tank came up to nuzzle Bessie affectionately, which she returned gratefully.

"Daddy says that we're going to test that Precursor Ring tomorrow. He says it would be best to test it immediately."

"Well, then I guess I'd better pack." I said. I ushered Malo back to his parents and shut the gate. "Bye, little guy." I told him with a pat on the yet-to-have-horns head.

Keira and I split ways. I to the old hut that Mom and Dad used to occupy farther along the beach, she to her home with the Green Sage.

I walked through the little hut, heading towards the even smaller alcove that served as my bedroom. It served no purpose except as a place to sleep, change clothes, and keep small keepsakes. My parents had shared this room before they were killed by Lurkers, when I was six, and Daxter was seven. Yes, he was a year older than me, and he never let that drop. Now I slept here, and Daxter rested in the other bedroom. Not at the moment, though.

I got down on my knees next to the bed and groped until a weathered satchel came within my grasp. Setting it down on the mattress, I removed its contents. Notes from Samos' lectures, scrap paper, and other items that were no longer needed. Moving over to the small dresser, I touched Mom's locket in thought as to what I would need. It was a simple piece of jewelry, in the shape of a seashell. Dad had given it to Mom when they had first started dating. Dad had been from Rock Village, and first saw Mom when he was visiting Mayor Manac, who was an old friend. Mom was a country girl, and that night had been the Midsummer's Dance. Dad was staying the night, so he stayed for the event. Neither Mom nor Dad had partners, so they were both sitting watching the dancers, too self concious to ask anyone to dance. Dad got over his paranoia first, and asked her if he could have the dance, and bada bing, bada boom, marriage, a baby boy conceived three years after they tied the knot, and a girl a year later. It was my favorite story, and when I turned four, Mom had decided that since I liked the story so much, I could be the official Locket Bearer. It wasn't a real title, but I was four, okay? How many of you believed anything your parents told you at that age?

I didn't know how long the trip was going to be, I packed a couple sets of clean clothes, underwear, and my journal. As Jak's uncle would say, it would be best to record my experiences and thoughts. And it would be a good way to vent without harming anyone. Precursors knew I'd need to with a brother like Daxter. I also took two photos from the wall above the headboard. One, was Mom and Dad on their wedding day. The other was a recent one of me, Jak, Keira, and Daxter in a treehouse we built as preteens. The place held many memories, from a surprise party for Keira's tenth birthday, to Daxter losing Keira's soccer ball and painting a wumpbee's nest to look like one a few years back. Carefully slipping them into the journal, and then into the satchel, I stowed the entire bundle under the bed.

"Anybody home?" Daxter called, finally back from whatever mischief he and Jak had been up to in their absence.

"Nope. Go away." I said sarcastically, heading into the main room. "Of course I'm home. Where else would I be?" Daxter shrugged.

"Oh you may want to pack. We're leaving tomorrow." I informed him. Daxter headed to his alcove to do just that. Grabbing a book from the shelf, I left Daxter to pack whatever it is ottsels pack.

I walked through the village until I came to the aforementioned treehouse. It was quiet, so it was a prime reading space. I sat myself down on the lift rigged from a rope thrown across a branch and a plank left over from the building of the structure and pulled myself up to the hole in the wall we called a door. Walking in and settling on the floor, I opened the book I had brought, Eco Tales from Ages Past.