I'm tunneling away from the camp early the next morning. Peaches and I woke up at dawn, she let me down, and I said goodbye. Now I'm heading to the berry bushes. My stomach has been rumbling since I woke up; I haven't eaten since yesterday morning.
As I'm digging, I start to wonder where the uprooted ground that my tunnels leave behind goes. They probably collapse back in on themselves or get walked on, but I feel more intrigued by where all the energy it took to dig those holes goes. How the energy travels around. Does it just disappear, or does it continue to shape the world? Does it go away, or does it forever change everything that will ever happen?
My, what I would hope to call a, train of thought is stopped by a heavy pressure on my back. There must be something on top of my tunnel. I dig fast, pulling myself out from under whatever it is. I slowly wriggle out and the pressure stops. As I dig away, I hear a faint cry from behind me. What could that be? Did I knock something over or hurt someone back there?
I dig out. Behind me, a very young tortoise is flipped onto her back and flailing wildly trying to turn herself up-right. She must have been what I dug out from under. I rush over and try to calm her down.
"It's okay. Calm down and I'll try to help you." I say, probably unconvincingly. It's not going to be easy to flip her over because though this tortoise is obviously much younger than I am, she's also slightly bigger then me, too. She stops flailing and starts to whimper helplessly. Figuring that, if I could flip her underground, I can also flip her above ground, I attempt to push her back onto her feet.
I manage to get her up after several moments of pushing and moving out of the way as she rolls back and almost over me. She looks at me sheepishly, still whimpering.
"What's your name?" I ask her. "Mine's Louis."
"A-a-amy." She answers between whimpers.
"Okay, Amy. Do you know where your parents are?" She shakes her head, no. She stops whimpering just in time for her stomach to start growling. She looks around confused as if she doesn't know where the noise is coming from. I ask, redundantly attempting to confirm my hypothesis, "Are you hungry?"
"A little..." She says quietly; her small, she voice is probably the only one less audible than my own. Her stomach growls loudly; she's more hungry than just a little.
"Come on." I say, flicking my head in the direction of the nearby berry bushes. "Let's get some food in your stomach then go find your mommy and daddy." I chuckle a little at my childish tone. She looks at me, confused as to why I'm laughing, but then she smiles and nods her head rapidly.
At the berry bushes, her demeanor seems more melancholy. She's eating the berries ravenously and smiling, but there's something in her eyes that betray her sadness. She must be worried about something, probably her parents. I've already eaten enough, and Amy's still finishing. I want to see another happy smile from her. I get an idea and go over to a tree, pulling a vine down out of it. A single tare and a few flowers late, and I've fashioned a little necklace. I tie it around Amy's neck.
"It's beautiful." She says fervidly, her hazel eyes beaming. I pat her on her head.
"Okay, let's go find your parents." I say and she nods her head happily.
...
Most of the animals, excluding the teens, tend to congregate by the watering hole throughout the day. Aside from the small patch of berry bushes I found, this seems to be the only other are with berries for miles. There are slides and termite mounds and games, and Sid even takes kids on nature walks. Naturally, the watering hole is a hub, so of course it's the first place to look for Amy's parents.
Amy keeps close to me as we make our way through the throng. Almost every animal here is at least five times bigger than us, and we're not looking to be trampled. We jump out of the way of a monstrous brontotherium as he rushes past, almost crushing us.
When I see two tortoises worriedly wandering around as if they're looking for something that's extremely important, I'm certain we've found Amy's parents. I hold onto Amy and pull her through the crowd toward them.
"Amy!" They shout in unison while eagerly rushing to their daughter. Amy has the same brown, oval eyes of her parents. She looks like a miniature version of her mom; her father looks similar, too, but with a slightly broader face and nose.
"Thank you, young man! Thank you!" Amy's mother says in a bewildered, but joyous, voice. "How can we ever repay you?" I pause at this. I've never enjoyed being payed for anything; I happen to think that it's payment enough to see these three smiling, happy faces. I honestly can't think of anything to say to not make this awkward. Instead, I get on one knee and look into Amy's eyes.
"You stay with your parents now. They were scared half to death looking for you." I want to end on a less didactic note, so I say, "I'll see you later, Amy. Bye-bye." I pat Amy's head and look up at her parents. I nod and smile shyly before walking back through the crowd.
Should I go see Peaches now? It's still early, but it's not like that's stopped us from hanging out before. However, she was really tired last night. I think I should let her sleep. I emerge from the crowd and walk into the forest. The air is crisp and fresh and cool. The flowers and plants are all still covered in dew; I run my hand through the leaves of a fern, and it comes out soaked. I chuckle a little and shake off the water. I'm walking rather slowly, but I still manage to trip and fall flat on my face. I get up and brush myself off, looking to see what tripped me. It's the rest of the vine that I'd used to make Amy the necklace. "Hmm..." I say to myself, "I bet Peaches would like a necklace..."
This chapter's song is "1, 2, 3, 4" by The Plain White Ts.