Private followed Rico, sliding easily across the ice and snow. Rico was silent, leaving him to his thoughts. The younger penguin's beak wound was itching, which Kowalski would have said meant it was healing. And his feathers were starting to grow back, which made the itching worse. But he didn't complain. He had learned a lesson from the injury, a lesson he was going to take to heart. And ever since he'd learned that lesson, his instincts were much calmer around Rico.

Rico popped to his feet, waddling forward. Private followed and sighed when he saw a stream flowing quickly through the ice. He looked at Rico for confirmation, and the older penguin nodded, dipping down to get a beakful of water. Private watched him for a few moments then copied him. Rico chirruped in approval between swallows as they sated their thirst.

"What's next?" Private asked, wiping a drop of water off of the tip of his beak. The droplet slid off of his freshly preened feathers onto the frozen ground.

"It is time to teach you to truly swim and hunt for your own food," Rico replied. "Come there are safer waters this way."

"Safer? Not completely safe?" Private asked, a note of fear working into his voice.

"This is the wild, Private," Rico said. "Come. We shall hunt."

Private once again took to his belly and slid after Rico. They reached a bank that led off over ice. There were several holes visible to the young penguin, and he studied them.

"Leopard seals," he said softly.

"Yes," Rico said. "Hush now. We sit and watch. Look around for danger."

They scanned the flat, icy land, and Private wondered what they were looking for. The iced-over water was unmoved in the nearest hole, pulsing with the underwater tides. A creature did not pop out. There was no spray of water from whales, no heads of leopard seals popping up for air. But there was something on the horizon. Nudging Rico, he pointed his flipper at the dark spot.

"What's that?" he whispered.

Rico narrowed his eyes. "I'm glad you saw it. We'll see if it's alive. Hush and watch."

Private had never been so still for so long. The spot didn't move. After half an hour, Rico stood up. He gestured for the younger penguin to follow, and Private obeyed. They slid toward a breathing hole. Rico began to do his breathing exercises. Private immediately did the same. After several coughs from the freezing air, he could feel his lungs expanding. He knew that they were going to dive.

He was prepared when Rico dove into the hole, and he inhaled deeply then jumped into the water. Private was shocked, not from the cold, but from the tight embrace of tepid water that he had expected to be as cold as the air in his lungs. He blinked, looking around. Rico was nowhere in sight, and Private knew that he had made a mistake. He reminded himself that he was in the wild and that he should have been paying attention to every detail.

A flash of movement from below him, and he shot forward, turned around, and looked at the thing that moved. It was Rico, disapprovingly shaking his head. Private nodded once, gesturing around, trying to look contrite. The older penguin pointed at his eyes then dove deep. Private followed, doing his best to swim as gracefully as Rico. A flash of shimmering silver caught his eye, and he shot forward, tapping Rico's foot with his beak. When Rico looked at him, he pointed at what had caught his attention. Rico's eyes gleamed, and he stilled.

Private's stomach complained, but he didn't dare ruin the chance of catching fish. Rico had warned him that he would catch his lunch or else he wouldn't eat that day. Private wanted to make Rico proud, so he stilled. The only warning that Rico was going to go after the fish was a slight tensing of his flippers. Private watched his elder as he practically danced through the water, chasing after the speedy fish.

Instinct stirred in his breast, along with the need to breathe. When Rico headed up to the breathing hole, Private followed. Rico sucked in a breath like it was second nature then dove again to search for food. It took the younger penguin nearly five seconds to empty his lungs and refill them. By the time he was underwater again. Rico was chasing down more fish. Private saw another gleam, and he turned to watch another school pass below him.

Private circled, dove, then began to chase. The fish were amazingly fast. Private knew at once that he had messed up again. He would need to outmaneuver them. So he stopped, dove deeper, then looked around. Rico was waiting a short way away, his sharp eyes searching the water. How many had Rico caught by now? Two? Ten? How pathetic was he when he couldn't even catch one?

It was tempting to give up, but Private's growling stomach promised a day of discomfort if he didn't catch his next meal. He went back up for air, determined to catch at least one fish. He studied the movements of Rico and the schools of fish. It would take skill to catch food. So he practiced some sharp turns and speedy movements. After another return to the surface, he was ready.

The next school of fish swam over him, and he propelled himself forward with powerful thrusts of his flippers. The fish scattered, but Private was ready. His instinct pushed him forward, his empty belly craving food, and he began the chase. Before he knew it, he snapped at a fish, and he caught it! Thrilled with his victory, adrenaline pumping through his veins, he chased down another and another. Only when Rico came to get him did he stop. Pride gleamed in Rico's eyes, and he pointed upward. Private nodded.

They swam for the breathing hole, leaping onto the ice in a spray of icy water and sliding across the frozen landscape. Once they got back to land, they climbed the bank and headed back to the stream. Private was attempting to find the landmarks. Rico said nothing until they were on the banks of the fast-flowing stream. Private took in a beakful of the fresh water, a shiver running down his spine and ruffling his feathers. Rico wrapped a flipper around the boy's shoulders.

"You did well. How many did you catch?"

"I think five," Private replied.

Rico nuzzled Private's face, nibbling at the feathers for a moment. "Very good. You're not going to starve today."

Private beamed, embracing Rico. Rico patted his back, his eyes troubled.

"What's wrong, Rico?"

"You always speak in your tongue, which is fine when we're alone. But nobody here will understand you. Can you speak in my tongue, Private?"

The young penguin blinked, his beak hanging open for a moment. "I…I don't know. I've never tried."

"Try."

Private frowned, his brow wrinkling. He let out a soft noise, but it wasn't a word. His beak snapped closed several times as he struggled to put words together in a language that he could understand perfectly. But his beak only wanted to form words he knew. He fought hard, a headache beginning in the back of his skull.

"Private stop," Rico said, shaking him.

"Ow," Private hissed, rubbing his head. "I've got a headache."

Rico nodded. "Looks like we have an activity to do for the next while."

"What?"

"We will begin to unlock your speaking capabilities between hunting trips, and we can practice while we're looking for clues as to where Skipper and Kowalski are."

"But I don't understand, Rico," Private said. "I know everything you're saying. Why can't I speak your language?"

Rico smiled, a soft, affectionate light in his blue eyes. "Speaking and understanding are two different things. You're not used to forming the syllables. You even think in English, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"We'll start with the basics and work our way up. Sound good?"

Private nodded. "What are we going to do about Skipper and Kowalski?"

"I'll go around to other tribes and try to find out what I can. We can find out what region of the mountains they're hidden in by knowing which tribe had to give their permission."

Rico began to walk back toward their cave, checking the sky. Private glanced up, noting a clear sky with stars sparkling above and the slight coloring the only hint that the sun was below the horizon. Days and nights meant very little in this land, and Private's body clock was suffering. They had been there for only a week, and yet it felt like an eternity since they'd left the sunny, warm city of New York.

"Were you sad when left here, Rico?" Private asked.

Rico glanced at him, his expression pinched. "That's a hard question, Private. Yes, I was sad to leave my homeland. This is where I grew up, where I learned to fend for myself, where I'd hoped to find love and settle into family life."

"But?" Private prompted.

Rico sighed deeply, reaching up to massage his scar. "Things happened, Private. Things happened and it turned out it was for the best for me to leave. I never thought to come back here. Ever. But here I am. For the love of family I left, and for the love of a different family, I've come back. I won't let Blowhole destroy my family." He paused then nudged Private. "Our family."

"What was your family like?"

Rico shook his head. "My mother was a wonderful hen. She was kind and nurturing. Oh, she expected tradition to be kept strictly, and she could punish like any good mother, but I loved her dearly. Between her and my father, I was born first, and every mating season afterward, I got a new sibling."

"Firstborn? That means something, right?"

The older penguin dipped his head. "Yes. The birthright was mine. I was to be next in line to the Chiefdom."

"Your father is a chief?" Private asked in wonder.

"Indeed. You saw him in a memory a while ago, remember?"

"Yeah. He was covered in blood."

Rico smiled. "Symbols. That's how the tribes mark leadership. They use seal blood. From what you described, it was the time Zigro disobeyed his orders. He told me to kill him, to make an example of him." The penguin paused. "And I refused. He had done nothing wrong. He didn't kill a pup. I saw nothing wrong with letting a pup live. I stood up to my father for the very first time. And that was where everything began to fall apart."

"What happened?"

Rico grimaced, pressing his flipper to his scar again. "I don't want to talk about it now, Private. Please."

"Okay." They got to the cave, Rico checked it for predators, then they went inside. The oil lamp was out, but they didn't bother to turn it on. Their eyes were used to the strange light of the South Pole, so why ruin their sight with unneeded fire? Private settled down, thinking hard.

"Rico?"

"Hm?"

"I had a good time today."

"You did well," Rico repeated. "You will get better and better. You figured out how to outsmart the fish, and I didn't even tell you how. You're starting to get it. I'm proud of you, Private. And now you know something that even Skipper and Kowalski don't know."

Private perked, surprised. In his young life, he'd thought that Skipper and Kowalski had known everything. They were smart and funny and strong and brave. And it struck him at that moment, without even knowing how he'd surpassed them, that he wasn't a chick anymore. His commanding officers had often treated him as if he were still fresh out of his egg. But he wasn't. Private smiled to himself.

"What's that, Rico?" he asked.

"You have caught your own food. It is a mark of maturity for my people when a penguin catches his first meal. There would be a ceremony and a great celebration. I am sorry that I cannot give you that."

Private smiled. "That's okay, Rico," he assured the older bird. "We'll celebrate once we have Skipper and Kowalski. Yeah?"

Rico dipped his head. "Yeah. Ready to begin speaking my tongue?"

The young penguin nodded. "Yeah. What's first?"