I'd learned a while ago that when in doubt, quiet, lethargic hours of laying in Blue Eyes arms while getting my hair combed out was better than any spa treatment. He always knew how to pet away the worries. We sat isolated in a tent of our own, silently holding one another while our minds did as they pleased.

"Want to tell me what happened?" Blue Eyes soon signed.

"It went a lot better than I let myself expect." I gestured back.

"Is she okay? Dax?."

Had the thought of my brother not made me so melancholy, I would have smiled at the concern Blue Eyes showed.

"I couldn't tell her." I replied. "I tried, but every time I went to, I kept thinking about being in her position. What if River was taken from us? I'd be so crushed. I couldn't do that her."

"You can't avoid it forever, but I understand what you mean." He gestured gently.

"I know." I nodded, scooting closer to his warmth.

He inclined his head and pressed his mouth to my hair, and I breathed in, finding comfort in that ever present pine scent of his.

"I want to go home." I whispered. "I miss our babies, I wanna hold them again." I confessed.

"I do, too. And we will." He locked another arm around my waist, adjusting the both of us so we laid on our sides, facing each other. "We'll be home soon."

Not soon enough, I thought. But I held my silence, opting instead to lay my palm on his nape, fingers curled around the underside of his skull to bring his forehead to mine.

"Why do the crazy things always have to happen to us?" I murmured after a while of comforting silence.

"At least no one can ever say we're boring." Blue Eyes shrugged, a smile in his voice.

"But can anyone say that we're completely sane, either?" I replied, a smile finally upon my mouth.

"Probably depends on perception." He answered, his mouth hooked upward to one side.

"True."

"Have you noticed Leone's eyes?" Blue Eyes asked, coiling his arms tighter around me, pulling my body flush against his chest. I leaned my shoulders back to look at his face and stretched my arms out to hook them around his neck.

I hummed an affirmation to his question. "Sectoral heterochromia."

Blue gave a questioning grunt, unfamiliar with the term.

"That's what it's called. The band of blue in his otherwise fully brown irises, they call it sectoral heterochromia. It comes in different colors."

"Is there a name for yours?"

I shook my head. "Mine are completely unheard of."

"I have a name for them." He murmured, a small sigh relaxing his body.

"What is it?" I asked, curious.

"Beautiful."

I swear, I felt my heart just melt. Fondness and love tipped a crescent moon onto its back, and my lips were quick to follow its example.

"God, I love you." I sighed lovingly before I kissed him, then hugged him.

"I love you too, Birdie." He replied, moving his arms to return my hug better.

This was one of those moments where he reminded me of how much he meant to me. I'd only really known him for two, almost three years now but I felt like I'd been by his side all my life. Everything I loved about him ran through my mind, from the way he could always tell whether or not to make me laugh or to just solemnly listen to my problems and then share his opinions and suggestions, to the way he interacted with our children. I loved the way that if he were in a particularly good mood before a hunt, he'd play around and splatter me with paint when I was helping him prepare.

The way he could read me, and understand what he saw in a way no one else had before. The way he tried his best to help the younger apes by giving them little encouraging tips, and even going as far as to put aside time for each individual ape and staying by them faithfully until their problem was solved, expressing wonderful self restraint and patience with even the most troubled youngsters. One thing that particularly made me want to do little extra things for him was the way he parented our twins. Never had he ever implied that they should believe that they couldn't do something. Once he noticed the gender roles that were more firmly instilled into the humans who visited, he made sure to instill the philosophy that the twins didn't have to keep from doing something they enjoyed just because it wasn't the most boyish or feminine thing. It made me proud that he had such ideals.

Even the things that used to scare me, like his harder glare, l found endearing, and his growl never failed to send shivers down my spine.

I was pulled back to reality when I felt Blue Eyes heave a big sigh after laying a kiss on my neck. He adjusted us again and offered his arm up as a pillow. We spoke quietly together for a while longer before slumber's tide washed over us, drawing us into quiet darkness.

I woke up early that morning, the sun not yet conscious. The first thing that I noticed was the fact that Blue Eyes was not beside me. I sat up, gazing blearily around for my beloved, but the tent was empty. I grabbed the blanket we had laid on and unzipped the tent, closing it again after I departed. The sky was still dotted with stars, the thin clouds streaking across the twilight in ribbons were a pretty robin egg blue with the beginnings of dawn.

I looked around, seeing no one else around. Seeing as my prince wasn't anywhere on the ground, I turned my attention to the branches around us. Picking out a stable tree was easy, and so was scaling it. Once at a satisfactory altitude, I started circling the camp, searching the nearby trees for any signs of Blue Eyes. It didn't take long, for he wasn't very far. His dark form was perched on an oak's branch, that piercing gaze of his staring off into the distant wilderness. Pausing to let out a relieved breath, I began to ascend toward him. When I joined him among the foliage, he was glaring over his shoulder at the unexpected visitor. But when he recognized me, his features softened, and I sat down, one knee pulled to my chest, the other leg dangling off the thick bough.

"It's cold." I murmured, revealing the blanket.

He glanced down at it, taking it from my hands and draping it over my shoulders. I scooted closer to him and laid the other end of the blanket on his opposite shoulder, silently sharing. My ape placed an arm around me and used the other to pull the blanket tighter around us. I looked to where his eyes had been fixed, and seen what he was waiting for. In a break in the foliage, a far off mountain ridge could just be seen if one strained, a halo of yellow light illuminating it and reflecting off the mist from the coast, making it so it was even harder to see.

"We're almost home." I sighed quietly, not wanting to speak too loud and risk disturbing the dormant wildlife. Blue Eyes grunted in agreement.
We sat in silence, watching the sun slowly travel upwards, blocking out the last traces of our Taiga home entirely. Maybe ten minutes rolled by before the silence broke again, this time by my husband.

"Is everything okay? I just realized, you're up early." He gestured, turning his bright blue orbs on me.

"No. I worried when you weren't there when I woke up, so I went to look for you." I signed back.

Blue Eyes gave a disapproving grunt. "Dangerous. What if something else found you first?"

"I knew you'd hear, or the rest would have. Worst comes to worst, I gain a matching set." I finished by lifting up the hem of the sweatshirt I'd slept in and showed off the lion's scars etched into my abdomen

"You don't know that." He returned, giving me a solemn look through softly glaring eyes.

"No," I consented, "but I have faith in you."

Before he could say anything more on the matter, my hands spoke again, "so what are you doing up here this early? Hunting birds?"

"I already caught my bird." He murmured, with a small shake of his head. "All these other ones don't look nearly as appealing."

I smiled, knowing I had no hopes in hiding it from him. "Have I ever told you that you always know what to say?"

"I just say what I feel." He shrugged, though I could see just how nonchalant he was trying to play himself off as. Keyword here, trying. I also found it incredibly adorable how he was attempting to hide his grin.

"Now, see, that right there is exactly what I'm talking about." I cooed, turning my body to lock my arms around his neck and gave him a lingering kiss on the cheek. "Keep saying things like that, and you'll be stuck with me long after you get sick of me." I added jokingly. "As if you weren't stuck with me already."

He turned to look at me with a soft smile, not saying anything yet, just staring at my face. I smiled back, feeling happy to just gaze into those cerulean orbs I adored. Then, he gave a fond shake of his head. "I could never get sick of you. I don't think I'd be able to function without you to hold in public, or worship in the dark, and I'd go completely rabid if I ever had to face a world without your massages." He signed.

Tears threatened to prick at the back of my eyes as I read those gestures. "And how would I get by without that smile or sense of humor. And even the notion of not hearing your snoring is bizarre. I'd be so lost without you." I signed, then I opted for silence, and leaned forward, catching his mouth with mine.

He snagged his fingers around my side, pulling me closer as he reciprocated. It was slow and I worked to pour in all that he meant to me through two mouths, using the sum of thirty-four muscles doubled to do it. I got lost in the feeling of being pressed close to him, of the palpitations his poetic words had given me, of the pine sap scent that never really left him. Time elapsed without my comprehension, merging seconds together so that they swirled and diffused in my head, knocking away and drowning out any thoughts I could have had about anything else. He was warm and the air was cold. His heat was pouring into me, and there seemed to be frost sparkling in the air around us, a shimmering aura.

I don't exactly know when it ended, but when I was able to comprehend my surroundings again, Blue Eyes' back was pressed against the tree's trunk and I was in his lap and both of us were panting. Soon, our breathing regulated, and we bathed in the warm bands of the dawn's light washing over us in the cool morning air. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I spoke up again.

"You never answered my question." I murmured.

He gave an inquisitive hum.

"You never told me why you came up here." I reminded him, nuzzling my nose into his pec for a moment, savoring the warmth.

He didn't answer right away, thinking about his reply. "Home. The twins."

I bit the inside of my lip, my mind teleporting me nine or so hours away, to where my two babies were probably waking up right about now.

"I can't wait to see them." I sighed, snuggling closer into his scars and fur when a cold wind whispered passed, seeking more warmth.

Sensing that I was sensitive to the chilly breeze, (the shorts I wore didn't help insulate any form of heat) he hooked his fingers into the crook of my knees and pulled them closer to our paper-close-pressed bodies and rubbed his large palms over my thighs and down to my ankles, offering friction to cure the cold puckering my skin.

"Remember when they used to get freaked out by their own sneezes?" I asked, a smile coming to my face.

Blue Eyes gave a puff of laughter. "Sage's eyes would get so wide."

"And when they didn't have their teeth?" I cooed.

"When they were always gumming at everything." He chuckled.

"You mean us." I reminded him.

Laughter puffed through him again. "Remember their first signs?"

I laughed happily, thinking back to the times. Sage's first sign had been at the bathing falls. She'd found a turtle in the lagoon, and she'd been both entranced and intimidated by it. With River perched on my shoulders, I'd crouched down beside her and explained what it was, signing as well as speaking like we always did with them, while Blue Eyes held the little creature in his palm for her inspection. After staring at it for another thirty seconds, she lifted her hands, lightly clenched one fist, and made a tent with her other hand over it, and wiggled her thumb from where it poked out between her hands, finishing the sign for turtle.

Blue Eyes and I had erupted in pride and affection, showering her with praise and love, not forgetting to include River in on everything. (That was the thing Blue Eyes and I strived to parent with, equality. We never wanted either of our babies to think one was inferior to the other or we loved or favored one of them more than the other. So far I was fairly sure we'd done a pretty decent job.)

River's first sign had simultaneously been his first spoken word, and that word had been 'who'. For a while, we'd had an owl trying to move its nest into a hollow knob in Home Tree near the entrance to our hollow, and at night, we could hear the owl cooing and hooting constantly. At first it hadn't been so bad, and before bed, we'd taken up the chance to educate the twins on what the creature was. You'd have thought if anything he would have caught on to the gesture for owl, but he saw the way we'd tried to make it easier to learn by saying things like, 'who is that?'

'An owl!'

Apparently the one that stuck was the first word of that little skit. Anyway, when River had decided to show us of his knowledge, he had been in my arms.

Sage moved from her father's shoulders to tuck herself into his arms, ready to go with him to go to see Caesar, who liked to put time aside for each of the twins, both together and individually (Cornelia did this too, but she had her hands full with trying to keep up with raising an age transitioning little boy as well as keeping up with teaching the children's classes when a teacher had fallen too ill to return to duty or for some other reason.

Blue Eyes and Sage had been about to walk out, when I'd said to River, "say bye-bye to Daddy and Sage."

The two in question had turned, so Blue Eyes could wave, but before he made the motion, our River raised his hand to his mouth, and spoke the word his hand signed.

"Who?"

My eyes had widened, and I looked to Blue Eyes, silently asking if what I thought had just happened, actually happened. At the same shocked look my husband gave me, I knew I hadn't misread any random wiggling of his fingers. After that moment of simultaneous astonishment, both of us had bursted into excited chatter, fueled by the intoxicating feeling of seeing evidence that we might just be doing an okay job at this whole parenting deal. The pride that welled up at that single syllable word and simple gesture was like an adrenaline shot of euphoria.

Blue Eyes and our daughter were almost twenty minutes late to meet with Caesar due to the fact that we'd all spent just that much time hugging and squealing like teenaged girls over our little boy's milestone. Sage hadn't seemed to understand just what was such a big deal, but as long as she got some love too, she was perfectly happy with the hold up.

"You know what? I forgot to do the 'mama' thing." I realized.

"The what?"

"I forgot to keep telling them to say 'mama' when they were first born." I replied, feeling like a complete dunce at the moment.

"Oh, yeah..." Blue Eyes trailed off. "So did I."

Silence fell upon us again. My eyes wandered back to the mountains in the distance, blocked out by the golden rays of this planet's lifeblood. We'd need to get back to the camp soon, someone was probably noticing our absence right about now. But there was something I'd been thinking about for a while now, a good handful of months, actually, and I wanted to try to get it off my chest. I was pretty sure I knew what Blue Eyes would say, but I decided it would be better to let him know I'd contemplated the matter than not at all. It would feel like I was keeping some sort of secret from him, and something we strove to keep between us was openness.

"Do you..." He trailed off before I could say anything.

"Do I what?" I asked, prompting him to continue with his question.

"It's nothing." He waved his hand, dismissing the matter.

"No, tell me," I turned in his arms to lay my cheek on his pec, so I could look at his face.

One look into my oddball eyes was all it took for him to know that he wasn't going to get out of it. And I knew him well enough to judge by the look that flicked across his face that he was regretting ever opening his mouth. He knew I wouldn't relent easily.

He quirked his mouth slightly, a sign I'd learned meant that he was figuring out how to approach something. Finally, he sucked in a breath and let out a sigh.

"Do you ever think about what we're gonna do when the twins are grown?" He signed.

I blinked.

One thing my other half tended to do was bring things up right before I did, it was something the both of us had always done, before we were moving out of the boundaries of platonic-ness. It was actually what helped us get over that whole...tenseness we'd initially had and stitched our friendship closer together.

"Um, actually yeah..." I nodded mutely. "Have you thought about it?"

"Lately, yes." He answered quietly.

"Care to share?"

"Well, I was thinking, you know..." He trailed off again, and I held my tongue, allowing him time to gather his thoughts.

After a few moments, he spoke again. "...having another..?"

My eyes snapped up to his face, brows raised. "Really?"

"Well, it was just a thought..." He started, looking like he was on the verge of uncomfortableness.

"No, I mean, I was just above to say that." I spoke up before he could jump to too many conclusions. "You beat me to it. Again."

"Really?" His expression changed from one of an ape who really wished he'd just bitten his tongue, to the countenance of surprise.

I nodded, a smile tugging at my lips as I dropped my gaze again.

Blue Eyes put an arm around my shoulders, silently urging me to relax again on his chest. I complied, but I kept my head inclined upward to watch his face.

"So," I said softly. "You want to have another baby?"

He hummed a confirmation, his fingers running up and down my arm. "If you do. How many do you want? In life, I mean." He added.

"As many as we end up getting." I answered, knowing I had no number in mind. "How many do you want?"

Before I'd had the twins I would have been happy with just one adopted child. I'd be happy with any child to love. But now that we knew that I could carry Blue Eyes' children, I was more than willing to have as many as we could handle.

Child rearing was no easy thing to handle, in fact, it was one of the hardest things I could think of. It had opened a door to a whole new kind of hardships, but it had also shown me the wonders of waking up with a little creation all your own in your arms. Honestly, I loved being a mother, the reward of the unadulterated, unfiltered love children expressed and filled my life with was more than worth the sacrifice of sleep or other little luxuries. But when I looked into my children's beautiful eyes, the toll exhaustion took on me dissipated into mere trifle.

"As many as we can have." He answered.

I hummed. "That sounds good." I cuddled closer to him.

"Sounds exhausting." He sighed, leaning his head back. "But worth it."

"Mmhm." I agreed.

"Blue Eyes!" A voice boomed through the morning woodland, scattering the early birds and no doubt rousing a few. "Raina!"

"Coming!" I called back, my husband calling a few hoots in unison, sending the same message as I had.

I sighed and grabbed the blanket we'd left forgotten on the branch. Blue Eyes, as always, helped me make the final jump down to the ground, catching me around the waist and slinging his arm around me. We walked back, stepping briskly through the damp leaf mold. Soon, we made it back to camp, Malcolm being the first to come into sight. His shoulders visibly sagged with relief at the sight of us.

"There you are," he sighed. "We're just packing up. I'd grab some breakfast while you still can."

"Sorry if we worried you. How's Mom?" I added.

"Focusing on keeping the chill away from Leone. He's still asleep." Dad answered.

"Still? Poor thing must be exhausted." I pouted at the thought of the stress the boy must have been under lately.

With a hum of agreement, my father's face frowned with concern. It was then that I realized that for all this time, he'd been in very close range of Leo, and yet he still hadn't formally met his own son. I wouldn't have doubted it if Leone hadn't even sparred him a side glance given the fact that he didn't know who the man was. My sympathies reached out to my dad at the thought.

Blue Eyes and I moved on, grabbing some more soup from the small cook fire heating it up. As we ate, my mind went back to the conversation in the tree with Blue Eyes. It was hard work raising one child, two had been strenuously difficult, to say the least, and adding a third while the twins were still so young was going to be exhausting. Not to mention, we most likely won't get nearly as much help from Caesar and Cornelia, for soon they would have their own newborn to look after. But now, with my mother returned home, I'm sure she would be more than happy to help, after all, she'd always said how she couldn't wait to baby my future kids.

But would she be able to accept my children if they weren't completely human?

Then again, I knew now that even if I hadn't fallen for an ape, any children I may have had wouldn't have been completely human either.

I couldn't envision it, the notion of being with anyone but my Blue was foreign and alien, and it brought an odd feeling of discomfort in my stomach. I shook the thought away, eager to be rid of the sickened feeling so I could continue my meal.

Returning my thought train back to its previous course, I knew I really shouldn't be so quick to make assumptions and sprout unauthenticated anxieties. I'd learned at least as much from the past. All those insomniac nights of mulling over and stressing over acceptance had been emotionally and physically draining, and then to learn that it all had been for naught... I sighed internally at the thought.

Fifteen minutes later, we were back in the SUV, Liam at the wheel to give poor Graham a break. He'd driven the whole way to my father's colony, the whole way back to OSIRIS with us in tow, and he'd driven the first six or so hours on the escape. And another perk, besides the loyal Brit's well deserved rest, was that when Liam drove, he concentrated. And when he concentrated, he shut up. Which was much better than the off-pitch show tunes we'd had to suffer through on the trip up.

This time around, we had a child inside. The worst thing we had to do now is make good time so we could be home by tomorrow afternoon, and make sure that in the estimated nine hours of road time, Leo didn't get too bored. That didn't seem too daunting, and I was more than happy to get to know the sibling I'd originally believed was lost to me.

Said child was still snoozing in our mother's arms. So, I decided to recline with Blue Eyes again, and we signed back and forth to one another about random things, deciding to save the new baby talk for private. We hadn't talked about when we'd like one, and honestly, if he asked I wouldn't be able to give a very good answer. There were cons to having one right now, but when I thought about the pros that arose from my experience with parenting the twins, they outweighed the cons heavily.

A few hours later, around what must have been nine or ten in the morning, Leone woke up. He was hungry, and still drowsy, and completely adorable about it. So, being the seasoned and prepared mother that she was, Mom had some bread and some lukewarm soup ready for him, and he tiredly ripped off pieces of bread and dipped them in the soup before putting them in his mouth and chewing. However, he was soon up and fascinated with learning to sign.

An endeared smile looped my lips upward as I watched, impressed with what the child already knew. But my easy grin dropped a little when I heard the reason she'd began teaching him. It was so he could talk to Dax.

I didn't know how I was going to tell her. It was going to cripple her, her heart was about to break and it was more than likely that it would be me to deliver the shattering blow. But she had to know. What was I going to say? He's off on vacation? I held back a sigh. I didn't know what I was going to do, and I felt helpless to ease my mother's eminent pain.

My thoughts were interrupted, by a touch on my arm. I looked down to see blue banded eyes blinking up at me. My younger brother's little lips parted, but the words that came out were not in English, but the tongue of our roots.

"How old are you?" He asked.

My brow arched with interest. "I am twenty. You speak Cherokee very well."

He giggled happily, his hands coming together to muss with his fingers. "Mama taught me hand-speak, too."

At the mention of my third language, I lifted my hands and switched from Cherokee to signing. "How long has she been teaching you to sign?" I signed.

"Um..." He thought about his reply. "Forever." He signed.

So she'd been teaching him since birth... A melancholy grin arose on my face as I pushed away the materializing thought train. I'd wanted to get some quality time with my little brother, here was my quality time.

"Do you like it?" I asked.

"Signing?"

"Yes."

"It's fun." The child smiled, his eyes twinkling in the filtered sunlight.

"Do you have a favorite word?" I asked.

The boy thought about his answer before finally replying, "all of them."

I smiled. "I have a hard time picking favorites. Have you met my Blue Eyes yet?"

His aqua banded eyes swerved to the chimp beside me.

"I told you she'd be okay." Leone said.

I arched a brow. "What?"

Blue Eyes gave a small grunt for my attention, and I turned my oddball eyes to him. "I got angry at Liam when we found out you were missing. I almost hurt him badly, but the boy said something. He said you were going to be fine and that someone was with you." He signed.

Jarred by this new information, I turned back to my younger brother. "Did you mean Dr. Milo? How did you know I'd be okay?"

The boy shrugged. "I just knew. Brother said everything would be fine, so I knew nothing bad would happen. Brother was with you."

I glanced to the side, at my mother, and she returned my gaze. "I'm starting to think he may be clairvoyant," Mom murmured. "I thought this 'Brother' person was something his mind made up to help him cope with life in the institute, but now..." She trailed off.

Her next words were in Cherokee. "I believe this person may be a spirit guide."

My lips parted as I digested her words. My mind threw my oldest brother's name at me again. I did believe in afterlife and spirit animals and guides, my early upbringing had taught me that, and I'd been open to the ideas my whole life. But to believe that my dead brother was communicating with the youngest of our mother's brood and giving him some sort of insight to things one just cannot know was too painful, too hard to give in to that I couldn't bear to let myself think that.

I looked back at my little brother. He was spectating from my lap, eyes flickering between our mother and I.

"Do you think Brother is a spirit guide?" I asked the child, still using my mother's ancestral speech.

He blinked up at me. "W'll," he started. "Brother stops the sad. He makes me laugh, and he knows a lot, too."

But then he started saying random words that made no sense in what he was saying, and at the face he made at his own sentence, I knew he was getting some words mixed up. Which was a very easy thing to do with the Cherokee tongue.

"Cherokee is very hard to speak, would you like to switch back to English now?" I invited, making no real comment on his mistake.

Leone seemed flustered at himself, but complied with my suggestion and continued with what he meant to say. "He helps me sign, and he helps me speak tsalagi, and he keeps me company when I'm alone or when I can't sleep.. So, I guess that means he guides me."

That didn't give a very straightforward answer, but I didn't think I'd be able to get much more from him. My suspicions were growing, and it was threatening to shake my mind up like a snow-globe. I wanted to ask Leo if this brother of his had any trouble hearing, but I wasn't sure if that would give me any solid answers. If this was real and it was my eldest brother Leo was...seeing, then I had no way to know if Dax had his hearing back or not. I didn't think there were deaf people in heaven, at least not if they weren't born deaf.

But I wasn't dead, so I couldn't know.

This wasn't really the time or place to discuss this with Leone, so I'd have to wait until he was settled to bring this up again.

"Where are we going?" Leo asked, bringing me out of my head.

"We're going home." I replied.

"What's it like there?"

"Alexander, you wanna take this one?" I called to the seat in front of me. I hadn't been back to the city since the incident two years ago, and I was aware that many changes had been made under my father's chieftainship. Of course, Alexander had made sure to describe as many of the changes as he could very well, but I didn't have much faith in myself to convey the newly refurbished colony with nearly as much vividness or gusto.

So, my older brother turned around in his seat, and commenced in telling him as much as he could while censoring the appropriate parts, due to Leo's young age. The dark haired boy was enthralled by the way our brother could paint a picture in the mind, and for his sake, I hoped Alexander wasn't exaggerating too much.

Three or four hours later, a roadside just happened to welcome us into a town with a familiar name. It wasn't Chinook, but it was close by and I'd been there before. My mother happened to read that same sign, and announced that she knew where we were.

"Can we stop for a bit after we get passed this?" She called, watching broken buildings pass by.

Graham began to protest, but Liam quickly jumped in, "y'know, I could use a chance to rest that whole hand-eye coordination thing. We've been driving for what, five hours?"

Without any more real objection, Liam continued on until we reached a strip of forest. He found a dirt road, and turned the SUV down it, loose rocks crunching under the heavy duty tires. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled the truck to a stop at what appeared to be a camp site. There were a few blackened fire places strewn here and there, and a homemade looking picnic table sat near the center.

My teeth came down on my lip, feeling that familiar tug at the back of my mind. I followed Lana and Leo out of the vehicle, and looked around at the towering pines and brush growing lushly around us.

"Mom?" I piped up, trying to figure out where exactly I was. Something told me I should know that information.

"Do you remember this place?" She asked me, her dark eyes finding my odd hues.

I shook my head. "I don't know...should I?"

Birdsong filtered down from the canopy, the sound of the leaves swishing in the leaves. Clouds whisked across the sky in thin mists, allowing sunlight to burn patches through the evaporated water.

"We used to come here on Christmas Eve and roast marshmallows, and the elders would tell you children certain stories. Do you remember any of that?" Mom replied.

The memories flashed through my mind's eye, the flickering flame, the shrieking laughter of my cousins, the marshmallows burning my mouth because I was too impatient to wait for them to cool a little before biting into the gooey goodness. I remembered the bite of the snow and the feeling of a furry hat around my ears. An awed breath sucked through me, and as I looked around, I seen flashbacks pulse when I finally figured out where I'd seen everything before. The dug out hearths where brittle, burnt out firewood sat was once alive with orange heat, my grandfather and other older generations taking turns in reminiscing and sharing experiences with the younger members of our community.

"It used to seem...bigger." I murmured distractedly.

I was blinked out of my oncoming reminiscent stupor when a short little body caught my attention. Leone had wandered to the edge of the site, and stood in front of a great white oak tree, staring up at it.

"Leo?" I called, beginning to approach. "Are you alright?"

He didn't answer, and as my concern grew, I heard a collection of feet tailing me. Mom got to him first, her hands resting on his shoulders. "Is something wrong, usdi tsula?" She asked.

I paused briefly at the little name. It meant 'little fox', but I pushed aside any wonderings about it and focused on the dazed look in his eye. I glanced at Blue Eyes as he took up his spot beside me, and he showed the same bewildered concern I felt.

"Leo?" I repeated, worried when he still showed no signs of even realizing we were there.

Malcolm crouched in front of him, and waved a hand in front of his face. "Leone?"

"What are they?" The boy's breathless, enchanted voice whispered, his wide, blue banded eyes unblinking.

"They're...trees, babe." Lana answered, seeming a bit surprised by the unexpected to question. "You've seen trees before."

Leo shook his head slowly, refusing to take his eyes off the towering trunk. "Not like this..."

My mind showed me an image of the sparse birch copse and barren fields surrounding the area above OSIRIS. My lips parted, and I thought back to what I was told in the institute. If there were ape genes in me, that must be what gave me my unending love for being in the canopies high up in the air. It must be some deep-rooted instinct carved into me by that genetic information. If that's what happened to me, I didn't doubt that the same passion was laying dormant in Leo, after all, we were both the reproductive products of the same genetic match, and unless they did something to further alter my mother, Leone and I were one and the same.

I nibbled on the inside of my lip, thinking over an idea in my head. No one had ever really taught me how to climb, and though I didn't remember exactly what happened the first time I got myself up a tree, I remember the feeling I always had once I was up there. Because I didn't have anyone to teach me, I had to figure everything out on my own, in that respect. But that didn't have to be the case for my brother.

I understood what it was like to have that unrealistic longing. I remember how strong it was when I was younger, how challenging it seemed not to just up and walk away during a conversation or activity to go up a tree. I'd subconsciously trained myself to control them, albeit it took a very long time and I'd had to do it all by myself. But I could be there for Leo, I could help him understand what was going on, and I could caution him against any bad falls.

So I crouched down beside said brother and placed a hand on his forearm. "Do you want to go up?"

His neck snapped towards me, brows raised and jaw slack. He didn't answer, but his head nodded slowly. I smiled and took his hand, standing straight again. I looked to my mother for permission.

"Be careful." She sighed.

I smirked at her, "I always am. Do you want to come, too?" I added, turning to my husband.

"I think this is something you two should do on your own." He signed, giving a smile in thanks for the invitation.

"Okay, if you change your mind, you know where to find us." I said, before leaning forward and giving his mouth a peck.

"Come on, little bro." I tugged him passed the tall oak, and through the shrubs, out of sight.

"I thought we were going into that tree." Leo piped up, pointing to the long grown oak.

"We are," I replied. "But we can't go right up it, the branches are too high up to start on the ground. We're going to go up a different tree and use the branches to get into the oak."

"What's an oak?"

"It's the name of the tree you were staring at."

"They get names? Who names them all?"

I suppressed a laugh of fondness. "No, no, I'm sorry, I should have said that differently. The trees don't have actual names, but there are names for the types of trees out there. Like, well, you're a human, but your name isn't Human, is it?"

"No, it's Leone."

"Well, it's just like that. Do you understand a little better now?"

"I think so. Do all of them have names?" An inquisitive, excited energy came over him as I scanned the surrounding plant life for an appropriate ladder to the sky. I quickly spotted a good looking sycamore tree nearby, and started searching the branches for a good way to get up.

"What are you doing?" Leo asked, noticing that I hadn't answered his question.

"Hmm? Oh! I'm plotting out the path we'll take before we go up. And to answer your question, I'm sorry, there are many, many different kinds of trees with many different names. Everything around us has a name."

"Whoa..." He murmured, looking around at everything with new wonder. Then his gaze snapped to me. "What's plotting mean?"

I crouched down to his level, pointing upwards as I spoke. "It means I'm looking for the path we have to take to get us safely from this tree back into the oak behind us. You see that branch, the one with the big round knot in it? Once we're in the tree, we're going to follow along it until we get to that spot there, then we'll work upward until we make it to the section where the branches interlock. You see it?"

The boy nodded, lips parted as he digested the plan.

"Don't worry," I said. "It's not as hard as it sounds."

With that, I stood up and encouraged Leone to try and get into the tree himself, curious as to what he would initially think to do. The native child approached the trunk, and stared it up and down for a moment. It wasn't until he was shoving his fingertips and toe-tips into the bark and heaving his weight up did I think to check his shoes.

But there were no shoes to check. He was barefoot.

I gave a gasp. "Don't your feet hurt?"

But he merely grunted a no, and continued until he reached the bowl about four or so feet up. He crawled up and got to his feet. "I did it!"

"Yeah, you did. That was very good." I praised, lifting a knee onto the rim of the 'bowl' and heaving myself quickly up. I'd have to address the shoe thing later.

"Now, can you see how to get up to that branch I pointed out?"

"Um..." He took a moment to observe and think. "Could we use those?"

He pointed to an array of short but think branches reaching up toward the sun. The only problem I could pick out about it was it was on the outside of the trunk, which meant that if someone fell, an inexperienced person wouldn't know to angle their body to catch themselves on another, lower branch. So, I took the precaution of staying below Leo at all times. Steadily, and with surprising confidence, Leo scaled the natural ladder with myself right underneath him.

"Well done," I nodded approvingly at him once he'd reached a safe place to stand. "Now hold still and I'll lift you up onto this one."

I took his small body into my hands and hoisted him upward, onto the knotted bough I'd mentioned earlier. As I pulled myself up after him, I took the chance to ask, "are you tired?"

He shook his head fervently. "Let's go higher!"

I grinned. "Okay. Remember how I showed you? Hang onto this as we walk, I'll be right beside you the whole time."

I watched diligently as he ascended the large bough. Now, we'd made it up maybe fifteen or so feet, we got to an area where branches from the sycamore and from the oak intertwined and braided. While it looked sturdy, I was still mistrustful and cautious.

"Okay, this is the trickiest and most dangerous part. I'm going to make sure it can hold us, then, if it's strong enough, we'll go together."

Leo took one glance down at the ground, then at me. I could see in his earthy and blue irises that he wanted to do it on his own, but something stopped him from protesting. I was glad, I really didn't want to have to explain the fact that this was his first time climbing a real tree, and if he fell, he'd likely break several bones if he was lucky.

Once I showed him how to check the strength of the branches, I let my little brother clamber onto my back. Once I was sure he was securely clinging to me, I held onto his legs and carefully tracked across the suspended makeshift bridge. I set Leo down again once we were beside the trunk.

"Can we see Mama and the others from here?" He asked, trying to peak around the tree's wide girth.

"We can get there, yes. Can you see the path?" I asked, interested to see how he would maneuver himself without my guidance.

I watched the way he clung to the trunk's bark, digging his finger tips in as he tested branches before hopping carefully onto them. He did very well, and I was proud to see he didn't need much help. Soon, we could see the clearing through the foliage, and I pulled back a leaf clustered branch and beckoned Leo closer.

Liam could be seen playing with Astrid, Leah was talking with Alexander and Blue Eyes, and my mother and father spoke close together near the center of the clearing and Graham was sitting at the beat up picnic table writing in some sort of notebook. Once Leo caught sight of our parents, he called out, and I added a whistle to his cries for good measure.

"Is everything alright?" Mom called up, stepping forward.

"This is so much fun! You should come too, Etsi." My younger brother called down, his voice high with happiness.

"I can't get as high up as you and your sister, babe." Lana answered.

"But it's easy! Just try."

"Mom, you should of seen him. He did so well, I barely had to help." I called, trying to change the conversational coarse Leo was trying to go down. She didn't need to explain to him like this. I knew I wouldn't want to.

"I can believe it. God knows you were always fearless up there. Don't let him do anything crazy." She crossed her arms lightly over her chest as she worried.

"He'll be fine, I'm watching." I appeased. "He really did do wonderfully for his first time."

"Good job, my tsula. I'm proud of you, you know I'm only worried, right?" She called up, and I could tell she was hoping he didn't think she was trying to discourage him.

"I love you, too!" Leo called down, and a big grin stretched my face. The maturity he showed in being able to read the underlying meanings in our mother's words made me proud. Something about him told me he was going to be an exemplary person.

"Hey, how's the view up there?" Alexander called, giving a wave.

"Cool!" Leo chirped back.

With that little factor drawn to attention, he looked up. His jubilant grin dropped in the wake of the awe of the striking sky and treetop painting bestowed before us. His chest rose and fell slowly as he drank everything in, from the clarity of the air to the beautiful mesh of greens swirled below the humbling vastness of the sky above. A breeze blew through the leaves, bringing the scents of life and greenery. Birds flitted across the sky here and there, and continued to fill the air with a musical atmosphere.

An easy grin stretched my lips as I watched my baby brother take in life in its great big beauty and harsh fairness. I couldn't wait to show him the world that awaited him just a mere few hours away. He had a whole lot more to take in.