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The 151st Day
It was when she was most of the way to the Big Tree, just as it came into view around the smaller, crooked trees in its way, that Meiko had a realization. Paths got smaller! There were more of them as life went on, but they got shorter—day by day and run by run. Smaller. Easier! And easy didn't mean more lovable, and it didn't mean less. It was just faster. The more she ran the path to the Big Tree, the faster it went, and the more time it left for other things. Other fun things, she hoped.
She was learning the way on her own. And she was also running faster than before. When she ran, it wasn't like when Mommy and Daddy ran, or even like Uncle Mei. For her and her brothers, running was a jerky thing, full of bumps, stumbles and trips. Running was like the water drops fell off the cupped leaves—it wasn't all at once, and it was full of funny bursts of speed where she didn't fall down at all! She loved running and she loved getting better. Daddy told her that someday, she'd run like him. And Mommy told her she had yet to discover so many things more wonderful than running…
She put on a burst of speed when she saw Uncle Mei. He was at the Big Tree, talking with something in the branches—probably Aunt Hatsu or Uncle Haburo, but maybe a squirrel! Predictably, she bumbled and tumbled over when her paw hit a root. She was convinced she hadn't had to hit the root—it hadn't been wrong to speed up, she just hadn't done it right. She rocked until she fell still and let out an 'Oof'. Then she smiled and wagged her tail. Mei and Daddy were coming over to her, and she knew they'd lick her face and get her standing again. This was an okay way to say hi.
"Are you all right?" asked Daddy, while Uncle Mei said, "Hello, Meiko." He turned to her brothers, who were plodding on behind, and greeted them too, but Meiko felt like she got the warmest greeting. Was it because she was the fastest? Or maybe it was because she was named for him? They'd told her that because she was white she'd gotten to have Uncle Mei's name—not only that, but an extra -ko, too. Remembering that made her grin, and so did Daddy's licks and slurps, and his nose, which flipped her back up to her feet. Meiko knew how to stand up after tumbling over. But she liked being flipped over better.
"Hi, Uncle Mei," she murred. She jerked her head back toward her brothers, feeling her ears quiver. "I beat 'em all here again!"
Uncle Mei chuckled. He looked to see them arriving—Bari was first, of course, and then Himari, with his funny slanty steps, like he could never remember the right way to walk. Meiko suspected he probably could have gotten there faster, but he was nice and he waited behind to keep Nogusa company.
"I got here almost as fast," Bari was bragging in his sloppy, scratchy voice, "and I didn't fall over even once! Meiko falls a lot, so I think really I win."
"Nuh-uh!" Meiko insisted. She had to defend the rules of the race—if Bari got away with saying it didn't count if you fell once, he would make that a rule for every time. And then Meiko would never win again.
"You know, it isn't a race!" said Uncle Mei, grinning.
"Huh?" said Meiko.
"If it's not a race, what is it?" challenged Bari.
"It's an outing," said Uncle Mei. "Your mother decided to take you out to see me today, and to enjoy the Big Tree area. Does it really matter whether you get here quickly or slowly?"
"Yeah it matters," protested Bari, standing up as tall as he could. "The one who gets here best wins."
"The fastest one wins," retorted Meiko. Was he just making up rules?
Mei gave Bari a side-to-side nose kiss. "Well, I suppose you can make it a race if you want to. But everyone has to agree."
Himari and Nogusa were just arriving. Immediately, Himari tripped up to Daddy and gave him a nuzzle. Then he planted his agile forepaws at the bottom of the Tree. "Can I dig at the Tree, Daddy?"
"Well, I guess!" replied Daddy, swishing his tail. He used to say it wasn't nice to dig at the roots of trees, but since then, he'd admitted this one was so big it probably didn't mind. Himari leapt excitedly and started searching for his old tunnels, in case any were still around. If he couldn't find them, Meiko knew, he'd just happily start in on a new one.
"He's such a sunny child," said Uncle Mei to Daddy.
Daddy just chuckled and looked around at all of them. Meiko knew what he was thinking—they were all sunny! He loved them all so much! It made her feel really lucky.
"Feeling cheery today?" asked Daddy. He crouched down so his face was the same height as Meiko's and he wagged his tail high along with hers. She laughed hard, like she always did.
"Yeah!" she replied. She'd already seen a bug at the bottom of the Big Tree and she wanted to follow it.
Nogusa stumbled up, confused about where to put his paws. "I made it!"
Meiko caught Mommy's scent and knew she'd been strolling behind the whole time. "You did make it," said Mommy. "All on your own! I think that's your third day running."
"Well, I didn't really run," admitted Nogusa. That was true—he couldn't even try to run yet. He was clumsy and not very strong and he only had two modes: walking slow and walking funny.
"It's an expression," said Mommy. "When you do something several times, one after another, we say it's a 'running' pattern. 'Three times running' means you walked all the way from home to the Big Tree three days right after one another! And do you know what that means?"
Meiko didn't even know what that meant. "What?" she asked.
"What?" asked Nogusa.
Mommy perked up, her ears and chin high. "It means…" she said loud enough for the other grown-ups to hear, "that our time in this forest may finally be near its end!"
Oh no. Did that mean change? Meiko didn't want things to change. But then again, if Mommy was excited about it… maybe it was good?
But Daddy seemed sad, or at least worried. "Lala… do you really think they're ready?"
She nodded one of her deep nods, that used most of her body. "I'm prepared to carry Nogusa most of the way. They can make it. It won't be quick, but it can happen."
What did this mean? "Are we going somewhere else?" Meiko asked.
"Do you remember us talking about this?" asked Uncle Mei, walking over. "We came from a place with more than just forest. It had wide open spaces to run in, and bluffs to climb, and a beautiful lair on top of a hill to live in."
Himari stopped digging in the soft root soil and loped over. "We're going back there? Now?!"
"Not just now. But maybe in a day or two, we could set out. How would you feel about that?"
Meiko didn't know how to feel. How could she know? There was so much out there, and the grown-ups knew all about it, but she didn't. She felt her tail stop wagging. "It's kind of scary," she admitted.
Uncle Mei nodded in his serious way. "Yes, it is scary. But the Emerald Forest is our home. We came here knowing that we would go back there as soon as you pups were ready."
Nogusa was smiling, his ears cupped. "Is it nicer there?"
"In many ways," said Uncle Mei.
"There's more room to roam," said Mommy in her clever voice. "But the real sparkle of the Emerald Forest is the creatures! Do you remember us telling you about all our friends there?"
"I can't remember all those names," said Bari, who was smiling, his tongue showing.
"I can remember a lot of them," said Himari, happy to be able to show off. "Bedelia and Itsuko and Taffet and Kaput and Umenoki and… and Wilhelm and Rosie—"
"It's Kiput," Meiko interrupted, "not Kaput. I don't know how there can be so many animals with so many names."
"I'd like to meet them," said Nogusa.
"Me too!" chimed Himari. His tail was wagging, so Meiko started in again. She couldn't help it—it was contagious.
Daddy scuffed all their heads, one by one—Meiko tried to run away, but he got her and gave her head a loving scuff. "I guess that's decided, then! Should we go tomorrow?"
"I think we may as well," agreed Uncle Mei.
"What an adventure we'll have, won't we, children?" said Mommy. She brushed her tail over Himari's head.
Meiko had a thought. "Are Aunt Hatsu and Uncle Haburo coming?" She knew they weren't always around, and that made her afraid they'd stay behind.
Uncle Mei spoke up. "I expect they'll want to fly ahead and give warning."
"Fair enough," said Mommy.
"So they will be there with us?" asked Himari.
The two warblers, one after the other, emerged from the Big Tree's foliage, swooping down. "Of course!" said one.
"Our home," explained the other.
Meiko smiled. "If you weren't there, I'd miss ya!"
"You'll be able to learn so much," said Mommy sweetly. "And who knows? You may make a whole bevy of new friends!" Meiko didn't know what a bevy was, but she assumed it was a lot.
"Okay," said Nogusa. "I guess we can go." He didn't seem too sure.
Daddy sighed happily. Then he gulped and looked uncomfortable. "I guess you'll have to say goodbye to everything that's here. I don't think we'll ever come back."
Oh, wow. That made Meiko feel sad. There were a lot of things to say goodbye to. She wanted to say goodbye to all the squirrels and birds, even if they always ran and flew away. "Okay," she said, and the sadness was starting to fall over her like leftover rain. "Should I get started now?"
"I suppose you'd better," said Uncle Mei.
Meiko went over to the base of the Big Tree. It had been there her whole life, she realized, as a place to go and gather, and now she wasn't ever going to smell it again. "Goodbye, Big Tree," she said, putting a front paw up on it.
Bari came over and put his paw next to hers. "G'bye, Big Tree," he said.
Her other brothers came over too, slowly. They all put their paws up against it together. Meiko thought Bari was the one who started howling. But she wasn't sure. It could have been her.
She knew Mommy and Daddy and the others were watching them. But Meiko didn't care. She stood as tall as she could against the Big Tree and she howled her little sad howls for as long as she felt she had any howls in her. And she felt and heard all her brothers howling with her.
The 153rd Day
The shadows wavered in and out with the noonday breeze—now the earth was webbed with black wherever the ragweed grew, now it wasn't. Thumping carried through the dirt, enough that Akiara could feel it in her paws. She heard feet leaping nearby and hurried over the heath, searching for the source of mayhem. She was drawn by squeals in the distance. and found old Tibias trembling against the ground near one of those ragweed stands, watching as a messenger pounded off.
"What," asked Akiara, landing nimbly over him.
"Mmn?" he asked, ears twitching.
"What is it? What's happening?"
"Mmnh," he responded. "She was looking for Nousagi. Some kind of message from the air."
"From the air?" demanded Akiara.
"Birds," said Tibias. "For the leaders' ears only."
"Screw that," said Akiara, racing after the messenger. "Aren't I a storyteller on the rise?"
She didn't wait for an answer. If these birds were Haburo and Hatsu—and she very much suspected they were—then they were here with a story, even if it was in the form of news. And that made it her business.
Especially if the news was that the wolves were coming back.
The 154th Day
Everything was all different, but the toads were the best part. They were like the chunks of meat in the scenery—everything else was just milk. Whenever he heard a toad in the crunchy grass, Bari pounced over and looked for it. And whenever he saw a toad, he pounced for it! They always got away, but his paw had hit one once. It had felt funny and it had jumped away funny and he wanted to hit one again. He wanted to catch one. It would make this whole trip worthwhile.
Dad made a weird noise, though. Like a growl or a groan. He padded over and looked down at Bari. "Son… you like chasing the toads, huh?"
"Yeah?" Bari didn't like being defensive, but Dad's tone called for it. He kneaded the earth with his big toes.
"Well, that's fine," said Dad. "I guess soon you might even catch one. I guess you're all going to start hunting soon."
It felt strange for Dad to switch from talking to Bari to talking to everyone. Bari didn't like it. "Nogusa's too slow to hunt," he pointed out.
"Oh believe me," said Mom, "he'll try."
"I just need to get bigger," said Nogusa, trying to be bright about things as usual. He wasn't even very good at that, though. Himari was brighter even if he didn't say much.
Dad went on talking to everyone, even as they all walked along. "But just so you know, there are some rules we have to follow. Well… one rule, really."
"What's the rule?" asked Bari, hoping it was a fun one.
But Dad didn't seem comfortable going on. He looked to Uncle Mei and to Mom, and Mom cleared her throat and took over.
"You all remember when I told you about the week, don't you? Six days, one after another?"
"I remember!" chimed Meiko, wagging her tail. Bari tried not to smile—he didn't want anyone to know how much he liked it when she wagged.
"I don't remember what the days were," said Nogusa.
"Simple enough! I'll sing them again for you." Mom rolled her shoulders and sang: "Firsthunt, full of vim! Then First Talking, cold and grim. Playday, full of fun! Secondhunt is time to run. Second Talking, loud! Storyday draws up a crowd."
"Do it again," said Nogusa. "I want to sing along."
So Mom sang the song through again, and all the pups sang along as they marched. Bari noticed that Uncle Mei didn't look too happy. He kept wincing and walking askew, and didn't sing along. Then again, Uncle Mei was different from the rest of them—Bari had known that a long time. Uncle Mei didn't have claws or pointy teeth, or even any teeth at all on top. He never chased toads or squirrels, and he never fed them meat coughed up from his belly like Mom and Dad. He just ate shoots and grass and green plants, and Bari thought that was embarrassing. So maybe it made sense that he wouldn't like it when they talked about hunting. Uncle Mei knew how bad he was at hunting, even though he was a grown-up, and that made him embarrassed for himself.
"Very nice!" said Dad. "You kids certainly have excellent ears!"
"I have an excellent mouth," said Meiko.
"I can't disagree," said Mom.
"Well," Dad went on, "hunting is only for the Hunting Days. On Firsthunt and Secondhunt, we can hunt the animals. But on all the other days, the animals are our friends instead."
Something about that sat weird with Bari. His ear curled.
"Okay!" said Meiko. It looked like she was fine with it.
Bari decided to speak up. "I'm gonna eat all the animals on the Huntdays. There won't be any left to be friends with," he joked, and he licked his lips just for fun.
Mom frowned. "Is that so."
Dad said, "Well, I don't think you'll be able to catch them all. There are a lot of animals." He didn't look happy either. Oh well. Bari wasn't the best at telling jokes, but he was going to keep trying.
"Really?" asked Himari. He'd been really quiet for a while, but now he spoke up. "You mean we hunt after the same animals we're friends with?"
"It's how we do it," said Mom, looking at the clouds with a funny smile.
"But…" Himari seemed most upset of all. "But how? Won't we run out? Who'll want to be our friend if we're out hunting them on the other days?"
Now Uncle Mei finally turned back and spoke. "They understand that it's nature's way."
"Nature's way? Is the week part of nature's way?"
"Well, no," said Mei. "We invented that."
"I don't want to eat anyone that I'm friends with," said Himari. Bari watched him—his walking got more crooked than usual and his eyes got wide. It seemed like the more Himari thought about things, the more upset he got.
"Well, if you're lucky, you won't run into any of your friends," said Dad. "Once you start hunting, you'll realize that the easiest animals to catch are the ones who are old, or crippled, or weak."
"What if some of my friends are old and weak?" cried Himari. He was probably thinking of Nogusa, who was definitely weak, even if he wasn't old.
"Well, I think the animals to come to the brook to meet us are usually healthy and young," said Dad. But he sounded bothered too.
"I don't want to eat any of them," said Himari.
"That's okay," said Bari, sensing another opportunity for a joke. "I'll have yours! I'll get big and wide and huge, and you'll get little and skinny and tiny." He laughed despite himself, even though he knew it was better to tell a joke without laughing at it yourself.
Himari just looked sad and scared, though. And Uncle Mei looked angry, and Meiko looked confused, and Mom and Dad looked at each other and frowned. Only Nogusa laughed at all, and it was only a tiny laugh.
Bari shrugged. He was still bad at telling jokes, it looked like. But that was okay. He was just a pup. He had plenty of time to get better.
A/N: It's yet another two POVs! And here I thought I'd only have three for the whole story. Does Meiko's realization in the first paragraph reflect my feelings as a writer on the speeding up of this work?
I almost made Nogusa female.
I like the surprise of hearing a toad leap through the grass near where I'm walking. It's rare enough that I find it kind of exciting, especially if I can spot the toad. They're not hard to catch compared to other animals, though I don't feel much like bothering them these days.
NOTE: I've added a piece of conversation to the pivotal confrontation back in Chapter 27. It may alleviate some discomfort about the way the animals received Mei's dramatic proposal to be hunted along with everyone else.
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