'Did you hear me?' Sparrow signed. Slate sat in the medicine tree's main room and staring blankly at the ground. His eyes drifted downward. His hands- his hands were sticky, the skin coated thoroughly with tacky claret. One could only compare it to a thick molasses-like syrup. The color of death. The chinobo's eyes slowly roamed upward, meeting Sparrow's small features. Her face was taut with concern, emerald pools soft for the first time in a while. Everything outside was still dripping, the leftover beads of moisture from the storm the night before showering the top of the fan-tree's ceiling each time the wind stirred its branches. Somewhere off in the distance, a lone cardinal chipped harshly out into the early dawn.

The female chimp grunted, attempting to draw him back out of his state of shock. 'We managed to stop the bleeding.' Slate felt his body give no changes, no response. He simply allowed his lips to part and he continued to look up at her, stupefied. One of the elder simian's fingers curled and graced along the edge of his face, which in turn the chinobo shied away from, uncomfortable with the contact. He could feel his throat beginning to tighten, eyes beginning to burn and grow moist. Slate's insides were reacting in a manner that he could not control. Why was he getting so emotional? Halfheartedly, he reached up and brushed her grasp away from his face. He didn't like being touched in the first place, so why did Sparrow feel the need to bother him with her grimy fingers? Slate's belly stirred and became sour.

The male's eyes returned to the floor, then followed up to her grey hands. 'How... how is she?' he signed, his movements aloof.

Sparrow shifted in the blue light of morning. 'She has lost a lot of blood. We don't know whether she'll make it through today.'

His chest tightened and his eyes squeezed shut. Respiration hitching in his chest, he finally brought his attention up to the shaman. Slate's heart fluttered. "Can I-"

'See her?' she signed, easily predicting his next question and finishing his sentence. The outcross dipped his head in confirmation. Sparrow could see right through any soul with those piercing oculars of her's. It was no wonder that her children had grown up to be so observant. Shifting where he sat, he allowed the chimp to reach for his wrists and haul him to his feet. Swaying with his ape-limp, he followed after the shaman in silence, being taken into a rather small compartment in the back of the tree. It was dimly-lit, lichen having been placed over the the entrance to keep it cool and still. Slowly, he allowed his eyes to fall upon her sleeping form. Her face was pale, dark lashes motionless as she did not dream. Her slender neck was swaddled in lamb's ear, the wound thankfully sealed and the blood-flow ceasing. The acrid smell of copper filled his nose and his belly turned. This was nothing like the evening after Twig's death. Slate's large chest ached and he could hardly move his body, as if his joints were seizing up with each little twitch of his bones. His long fingers curled inward, nails digging deep into his palm, leaving shallow divots in the flesh. The warrior's head turned to look upon the smaller body beside him. She swayed. 'I'll leave you be for a while...' she suggested, then took her leave, the dangling shield swaying out behind her.

Moving closer, the male looked around the room, spotting something odd leaning up against the wall. He recognized it as the human. Nic was leaning back, his arms crossed over his bare form, bloodied garments in his lap. The man's eyes were shut, similar in stature to the ravenette, in a dreamless daze of black. He couldn't help but feel his lip curl slightly at the sight of him. Quietly, Slate returned his attention back to Krissa's stagnant form, he pushed through the invisible barrier he had set and crossed the short distance between them, coming to all fours at her bed-side. At first he hesitated, watching her chest rise and fall ever so slowly. Her breathing was shallow. Finally, Slate slipped his hand up to her cheek, his body rising ever so slightly so he could hover over her. Guilt washed over him as his eyes explored the stains on her lips, listening to her raspy breaths of oxygen as they passed through her windpipe. His disgrace grew and grew. He had become too comfortable and too trusting of others; if he had been more diligent, more aware of his brother and others, perhaps he would have caught him in the act. Perhaps he could have killed Pine before this had happened.

Perhaps he should have done so a long time ago...

"In our... blood?" maundered thickly, recalling his brother's callous words. "To kill those we.. ?" Slate felt his voice break in his throat, unable to form that final word on his tongue. He gently laced his hand with her's, feeling that familiar sensation once more, just as he had the evening before. His throat ached and he clenched his sharp teeth, bowing his pate and resting his brow against the back of her dainty limb. Her hands felt so cool against his warm face. The reticence that filled the small hollow was deafening. Slate allowed his snout to drag along the smooth surface of Krissa's extremity, amber eyes returning to her unconscious body.

Why couldn't it have been him?

"Your sister didn't even try t' help her," Nic suddenly whispered. Whiskey depths flashing, he brought his head up slowly and allowed it to turn with a look of malice upon his face. The human stared at him with a placid expression. "I'm right, aren't I?"

The chinobo recalled how his sister has simply stared. She hadn't been inside the hut.. no, she had been outside, cowering in the mud and rain as if she were trying to ignore what was happening. Somehow she had known that this would happen. He turned his moist gaze away from the human. There was a heavy bout of silence once more, weighing down upon their shoulders. "She could be gone by tonight..." the human added, sitting up and hoisting himself to his feet. Slate stiffened again at the sound of his voice. He didn't want to think about that right now... but he was entirely correct. Nic approached on unsure legs and then came to stand next to where Slate sat, head bowed at her side. He hovered, then knelt down. The ape felt a hand upon his back and began to bristle.

"Let me take her.." Nic's words rocked through him. What was he implying? There was something desperate behind the tone he held. Their eyes met. Something in those strange depths he found something he could relate to. Breaking away from the male, he rose to stand upon his short hind legs. Slate shook his head. "I'll talk to Cornelius.. there are others: we have a doctor, medicine, shelter. We can try and save her."

"Others?" he hissed, narrowing his eyes.

Nic visibly swallowed, raising his hands. "Y-Yeah. We've gotta place across the lake, on an island. Boats travel back n' forth... it's how we got here. We were lookin' for supplies n' stuff," he continued, voice cracking slightly. It was quite clear that after seeing the battle between Pine and he that Nic was intimidated. It had been obvious since the beginning. "We could save her. C'mon, let me help her, man. Please."

Save her? By taking her from her home? Slate remained silent, biting his tongue. Gaze falling to her ashen face, he took a deep breath and then exhaled, long and slow. The wind outside buffeted the great redwood, causing it to sway, the branches creaking in complaint and the candles flickering visibly in the next room. The silence seemed to be growing heavier and heavier the more time drew out. Slate's eyes caressed her cheekbones and her parted lips, listening to how the breath rattled in her throat. He felt that dull ache in his chest once more. He had two options: keep her here where he could be by her side and possibly lose her by sundown, or give her up and let her own kind help her as best they could. His face fell for a moment, looking to the ground.

"You're gonna have to trust me sooner or later," Nic appealed, drawing Slate's gaze to his own once again. The human's voice had become croaky and thick within his throat. It wasn't something he was used to hearing from him. Perhaps it was effecting the human just as badly. Nic paused. "Why not start now?"

Slate huffed and held his solemn leer with heavy scrutiny. His lips parted and he was just about to answer the male, when suddenly Krissa's body convulsed, a moist and phlegmy cough escaping her. Her eyes peeled open, glossy and greyish in the dim light. The ape felt his heart leap and came to his knuckles beside her, a hand brushing her damp tangles of raven from her brow. She was cold to the touch. Her lips stirred, as if trying to speak, but no sound came out. There was a simple wheeze of air that whistled through her cracked maw. Panic vaguely washed over her features before her head fell once again, eyes gaping at him. A bray of agony trembled from his throat as he watched Krissa slowly drift back into her coma, all recognition disappearing, her moment of consciousness terribly short-lived. Her eyes drooped and Slate slumped against the next in defeat, pressing his brow to her own.

His heart thrummed. Pine.

Badmp-badmmpp-

Pine. Sage. Quill. Marshal. Sharp.

She wasn't safe here. Not now.

"Will she ..come back?" he rasped, voice guttural in his throat.

Nic cleared his throat, as if brought out of a daze. "That... that's entirely her decision," he murmured. Beat. The human crossed his arms and passed a hand over his scruffy face. "But yes, she would. I can't keep her away from you guys if that's what she truly wants."

Slate took a deep breath, drinking in her soft and comforting aroma. The scent of earth and pine clung to her like mold, robust and inviting. Bringing his head up, he glared at Nic with exhausted, grieving eyes, and then spoke again. "Go talk to Cornelius."

As soon as Slate followed Nic out into the open, he paused at the entrance, watching the human plod his way down the ramp. Eventually tearing his amber stones away from where they had been drilling two generous holes in the back his dark head, his cranium tilted and came to fall upon something completely different. In the center of camp, several apes were erecting a large post, heaving it to a standing position with tugging hands. He knew exactly what that was for. Exactly who would be attached. After glowering for a moment further, he squared his shoulders and lowered to all fours, knuckling back down and returning to earth. The journey across the village was quick, Nic easily picking out the ape leader near the building sight, hovered around something and discussing the issue at hand. As the two meandered into view, Maurice was the first to notice their approach, alerting the others with a bubbly sound in his throat. He seemed surprised to see the human and the chinobo side-by-side

Ignoring the simper the old timer gave him, he brought his massive head around to look upon the young prince. Rocket, standing not far off, released the ropes he had been holding in order to assist and called for a break, allowing the males to take a breather while they conversed with the approaching two. The wind stirred their coats, the light rain misty and soothing against his hot skin. The Medicine Tree was a peaceful place that one could easily collect their thoughts in, but when remaining stationary inside for too long, you could be bothered by the warmth of the flickering candles.

'Slate,' Rocket signed, small olive tones flickering from his form to the human male's. The two had fallen into step as they had slowed, not thinking much of it. Rising to his hind legs, he dipped his head to his elder, offering a hand in greeting. Rocket and the alpha both slid their palms over his, which in turn signaled for him to rise from his slightly crouched position.

'We are calling together a few hunting patrols,' Cornelius established, gestures straight-forward. Something behind his emerald eyes burned- it was something he had never witnessed before in those young oculars of his. The chimpanzee pointed a finger toward the sheet of parchment before then, the chicken-scratch bringing back old memories. It was an entire map of their territory, one that they used whenever they would go on scouting missions. The gusts of air buffeting the side of the cliffs rumbled in a low, percussive sound, his eardrums picking it up as something close to mild thunder. The trees swayed and creaked, the stones wet under foot.

Rocket's large head rose, gaze fastening to Slate's long face. 'I will lead two groups south, to watch the edge of the border in case he tries to escape. Cornelius and you will take the rest of the routes and comb through the woods.'

So, this was a witch-hunt rather than an actual search party? Unease was absent from his chest and belly. Slate felt nothing, simply hollow- so empty that it ached. He nodded his head, amber gaze turning downward to examine the marks made within the dried leaf. This was going to be a long day, he could tell, but right now they had to focus on the issue at hand. Slate came to sit upon his haunches, knuckles and spear holding up the weight of his front. 'We treat this like elk?' he inquired. 'Large animal, lower tactic, aim for the flanks?'

Cornelius piped up, grunting and shaking his head. 'Like a predator.'

'You know your brother best,' signed Maurice, crown bobbing.

Pine is not family, the tiny voice whispered.

Of course. Nic shifted uneasily beside him, trying to catch a peak of what exactly they were signing over. He, obviously, was deaf to american sign, which made it even more confusing to the poor human. Slate turned his head and shuffled over, waving a hand for him to join. Nic was hesitant at first, eyeing Cornelius and Rocket, and then Maurice's kind face. After a few seconds of tension, he finally stooped and knelt. Slate gestured to the middle. Jumbled signs that were clear and sensible to the apes were all gibberish to the man, and ergo he grunted hoarsely. "Ape home," he explained. Running his hand down to the left along a jagged line, his index came to the trees. "Sandy hill... cliff-side, winding path.. forest line."

Raising his extremity, he allowed it to drift south-east. "Skinny falls, lots of rocks for him to.. hide in. Could be.. holed up in the cranny behind."

Nic stirred next to him, trying to make sense of it all. "Where Krissa was found?" he mumbled softly. Maurice burbled in confirmation, the group of apes bobbing their heads simultaneously.

Slate rocked from one foot to the other, then continued. His hand glided to the lake, which was fairly obvious. "Lake, could be.. anywhere around there," he guessed. Nose twitching, he took a moment to ponder, then grunted and shook his head. "Would stick.. to heavy cover, like pine groves." The chinobo outcross brought his fingers to hover over the denser woods along the eastern hillside. That was where he would most likely be; it was his favorite place as a child and he would often retreat there if they had ever had a nasty argument.

"Would move further.. out," Cornelius confirmed, head bobbing. 'Sentries saw him heading east..'

The outcross twin furrowed his brow. "Did not follow?"

Rocket shook his bulky stone-grey head. 'Sage was on duty. Ilam tried to convince him to follow, but they all headed for the village instead. He only tracked him so far on his own, but the storm was too heavy and the rain was damaging the tracks...'

'He would have started climbing soon anyway.. it would have been easier to get away,' he signed. Slate pondered, scrutinizing the parchment splayed out between the group. Nic, clearly lost, was simply looking at the outcross with questioning eyes. 'If he headed east, he could be far out by now..'

Maurice brayed. 'Could he have headed back to the city?'

'The city is miles away through the desert,' Cornelius countered, head swaying in disagreement. The chocolate-brown pale-face looked between the members of the ape council. Slate and Nic listened closely. 'He wouldn't last long without water.'

Finally, Rocket grunted. 'We'll stick the main group near the heavier woods. Give them bows and arrows... make it easier for distance.' All agreed, nodding in synchronized formation. The bulky chimp rose to his hind legs, thus inviting the others to join. 'Will start assigning groups immediately. Painting will be within a shift of a sun, so stay close.'

Together, the group began to return to their normal duties, dead-set on the task at hand. This would be something they had never done before, and Slate assumed that it would be sloppy. Taking a prisoner of their own kind was far different than when they had strung up Krissa, or even Nic. Cornelius in particular seemed to be under a lot of pressure, which was understandable. It was his job to capture the fiend and give Pine his just deserts for what he had pulled. He had taken his hatred for humans way too far, and at this point, there was no coming back from what had happened. He felt Nic rise, hesitate, and then-

"Cornelius- your- your Highness!" the human suddenly called. With a heavy stone in his belly, he followed after Nic as he suddenly sprung up and scrambled after the prince. The chimp was just heading in the direction of the royal hut, Maurice alongside him, when he stopped in his tracks and turned toward the male. Standing at the prince's height, Nic swallowed and looked at him with wide eyes. "I- I wish to speak with you, er, regarding Krissa."

The prince and his adviser exchanged a glance. 'Inside,' Cornelius ordered.

Lichen climbed along the ceiling, the scent of moss filling Slate's nostrils as he glanced around. The torchlight was warm against their chilled skin, the group thankful for the protection from the rain. They all sauntered along, dripping and leaving damp footprints along the dry stone as they walked. The dull hush of the heavier droplets pattered along the roof, creating a drowsy miasma within the whole little hut. The prince and his elder came to sit upon the shale floor, Maurice adding to the fire as Cornelius scratched at his ear. Slowly, they came to find their own place around the hearth. "How is she?" Cornelius finally asked, voice low as he addressed such a sensitive issue. His eyes held worry.

Slate felt his throat tighten and shared a knowing look with Nic. Bringing his head down, he looked anywhere but straight toward the younger male. 'Sparrow said she might not last through the day,' he answered. There was a heavy, emotional huff that escaped the young king in response, yet there was silence following. Nobody dared to say a word. All was still. Maurice finally let out a solemn burble, shaking his head and slouching further.

The quiet grew deadly. "What.. can we do? There must be something?" Cornelius pondered aloud. Tongue seeming to thicken, the warrior lowered his head and stared at the ground, nose wrinkled and lids heavy.

"That's what we wanted to talk to you about," Nic admitted quietly. Heads rose, yet Slate remained steely, glaring further at the ground. "Back where I lived, there are others."

The word 'others' hung in the air like a swaying body, strung up and lynched.

"Others?" Cornelius questioned, tone surprisingly light and curious.

"Yeah. We have a doctor and medicine. I was thinkin'- if you'd just think about it- we could bring her to them," the man continued, words bumbling out of his mouth with little finesse. Clearly he was unaware of their formal timbre, but no matter. He would be gone soon. "I can get in contact with them. I have a radio-"

Slate's massive head rose at this, startled by the mention of human technology. How long he been hiding this from them? From Krissa? Had she known of this? He wasn't so sure about this now. What exactly had he agreed to? His fur would have risen if not for it being plastered to his spine and shoulders from the rain. Maurice's hand rose before the outcross could, silencing him. He wanted to hear the man out. Uncomfortable, he remained at his tipping point, the steel grip he had upon his father's weapon enough to strangle a bear. "- and she could come.. back if she.. wanted to," he finished.

Nic swallowed visibly in the crackling light. "Yeah, what he said..."

The prince seemed a bit lost at this point, head tilted and eyes narrowed. Maurice glanced between the three in the room with them, unsure about the slight tension that was introduced into the situation now. Slate was practically on the edge of his seat, apprehensive as to why Cornelius was taking so long to respond. Finally, the young ape took a deep breath and shut his eyes. The fire popped. 'You agreed to this?' signed Cornelius, forest gaze latching onto the outcross settled on the other side of the hearth.

'Yes... if this can save her life, I'll let him take her.'

Nic, confused as always during the use of sign language, sat there patiently. He seemed to be trying to understand, his pate cocked and his nose scrunched up in concentration.

'And if this is a trap?' the prince suggested, his teeth peeking out from his lips as he became slightly infuriated by Slate's credulous behavior. However, before the inky male could defend himself, Maurice burbled and placed a hand upon Cornelius's shoulder.

'It's a risk we have to take.' The elder paused. 'She may die before sundown... there's nothing more we can do for her here.' As always, the orangutan always seemed to have enough wisdom and resolve be able to stop a disagreement in it's tracks, even before it had heated up. Maurice had this sort of... piercing calm to him. He was more in tune with himself than any of the other patriarchs. 'I know that both of you care deeply for this human girl.'

He gestured widely, toward both of them. They held their breath as they listened, Nic all the while licking his lips over and over again in thought. He really was hopeless. 'In order for her to survive, we all have to put our mistrust to bed.'

Cornelius grunted, cheeks puffing slightly. Ultimately, the chimpanzee turned himself from where he faced his companions, and fastened his eyes upon Nic. The human stirred uncomfortably. "She... comes with you, but comes back. If she wants."

Nodding his head, his brows knit together. "Of course," he agreed.

Crown dipping slightly, the young king examined the man further, the tension began to dissipate. "Call others."