The air was so pure in these alien woods that our suits actually suggested we take them off if we were inclined to, and we both felt we would feel a little crazy if we didn't.
Our journey upstream took us deep into this forest, and along the way, we were beholden to some of the most scenic and lustrous sights we had ever encountered in Xen up until this point. The dense treetops nearly covered up the whole sky, save for numerous thin openings that allowed turquoise beams of light to shine through the expansive canopy, which fluctuated slightly in size as the massive black leaves rustled slightly in the low breeze. The leaves themselves were a truly striking variety; their bold red veins were indeed glowing―albeit faintly―and they seemed to pulsate like they had a more tangible lifeforce flowing through their roots and branches.
The ambiance was bewitchingly refreshing; a cool steady mist permeated across the whole forest, making the air sparkle where the light shone the hardest. The soil beneath our feet was rich, moist, and speckled with long-bladed, metallic blue grass that grew in patches scattered about―mostly sprouting around the trees' stumps. While the harrowing omniscient low drone of the border world was still present in the broader soundscape, the rustling of the trees and the ambient sounds of small insectoid-like chirping and creaking seemed to suppress it some, in turn giving our ears some appreciated solace.
We also passed by some local wildlife along our way upstream. There were large passive grazing creatures here that were around the size of Dahlia and had three legs in an identical arrangement to the hammies' legs. They had thick necks and long faces that reminded me of the heads of anteaters, which were a race of people not commonly seen in Lylat's worlds. They had four beady red eyes on both sides of their faces and had horns that curled forward, ending in hook shapes towards the midsections of their muzzles. We passed a tiny herd of these marvellous exotic beasts while they were grazing on the metallic grass around the trees, scraping their horns against the grey bark and licking their mates tenderly with their long tongues, which were long enough to lap themselves around their muzzles two times (a feat I was witness to).
Of all the places we had seen so far in Xen, this was, without question, the best portion we had engaged in thus far. I had a great spiritual connection to forests, having brought myself up in the fierce Fortunian wilderness. I quickly found myself resonating within these alien woodlands, finding a peace I didn't think was possible to achieve here. For the first time in a little while, it felt like we had returned to a world with rules and standards, and it felt unexplainably glorious.
Shephard was also deeply infatuated with this remarkable change of pace. His homeland of Arizona was an arid place and lacked lush forests like this, so his perception of this alien sanctuary was considerably more youthful and fuller of wonder, with fresher eyes that had endured very little scenery like this throughout his life. This place easily became his favourite location in Xen as well for its tranquillity and satiation. It did feel considerably safer here.
Lulled by the peace, we had gotten a little chatty as we lowered our guard a few clicks while we followed the stream in the direction it flowed from, though our hands were never far from our holstered weapons. We had been discussing pleasantries for nearly eight minutes as we followed alongside this stream, and inspired by the queries I had for him way back at the switchbacks, Shephard was soon compelled to ask a few things about me he had never gotten to yet, seeing as we were out here by ourselves with only fewer more things to discuss.
"So, what's it like having a tail?" he wondered, bareheaded while holding his helmet under one arm and his re-equipped rifle slung over his other. His question was very reasonable given our respective physiologies' uncanny resemblances in many aspects, and it honestly wasn't too uncommon of a question in my realm.
"Well, it's an appendage I have to take care of, like the rest of mine on my person," I shrugged. "It helps me keep a steadier balance in some instances. Foxes like me are innately more manoeuvrable than some other races in my realm."
"You don't say," Shephard mused, staring at my sleeved tail inquisitively. "Have you ever had a door get slammed on it before?"
His question made me smirk. "What spurred that query to mind?" I wondered, looking at my friend with a bit of incredulity.
"I dunno. Just looks liable to have a big long noodle swinging around your butt."
His juvenile undertones had a tickled effect on me somehow. This may have been proven as such when I snickered a bit at his description. A fleeting sparkle in his eye suggested that might have been the veiled goal.
"Well, for your information, I have not had my tail wedged in between any door," I informed. "I would never be so careless―that would really hurt. I take great care of my tail." I demonstrated as such by curling it around me so that I could stroke it with my free hand (despite my tail and hand being sleeved up).
"No doubt you do," Shephard conceded, briefly shooting me a dubious glance before looking away. Such a pesty look threatened to make my hackles stand, but I had rather remained an adult and let it go. "It's kinda weird, though, if I'm being honest," Shephard continued. "Here you've got a full-on tail in the place where us humans only have a tailbone. We have those, you know."
That surprised me a little to hear. "You do?"
"Yeah. Kind of unfair, right? It just hangs there uselessly without a purpose. You always forget it's there until you break it."
"How peculiar. I wonder why you wouldn't have a tail when you already have the part for it."
"It's an evolutionary leftover or some crap," Shephard explained haphazardly. "Has something to do when early humans decided they wanted to stand upright from then on and stopped walking on fours or…something like that. I'm not an evolution expert by any stretch." Shephard then spared another studious glance at me, looking me up and down. "But I can see that maybe evolution might have followed a very different rulebook in other parts of creation."
"Quite so," I acknowledged, perceiving my distinct set of features as well.
The river had gotten a little wider as we began climbing up a few short falls about three inches high each. During the short hike, Shephard's questions persisted, and I had gotten a little kick out of answering them. It was endearing to hear him ask genuine questions that seemed so mundane in the realm I hailed from.
"And hair. Why do you have hair?" he asked, pretty blunt with his words.
"Why not?"
"I dunno, it just seems a little…"
"Freaky?" I offered, having little desire to let that previous sour comment go anytime soon, and that appeared to dawn on Shephard's brow, which was now arching with sheepishness.
"I…was gonna say redundant," he insisted.
"Hmph. Well, that's hardly much better," I snorted, turning my muzzle in exaggerated offence. I was well aware that he was mostly earnest with his queries about me, but I felt he still needed to think I was highly sensitive to such comments.
"Come on, please get where I'm coming from," Shephard pleaded, even reaching his free arm out to me. "You've got all that fur already. Just doesn't make much sense to me practically to have another type of hair on top of the other."
A part of me wanted to continue giving Shephard a hard time, but I struggled to be the vindictive type, so I relented my incensed posture some. "Well, you actually do have a fair point," I justified. "Having a head of hair like mine is rather uncommon amongst foxes. I've never personally met many foxes, but the ones I have never had any hair―at least not like mine. I'm among a rare few, it seems. Must be a Cerinian fox thing for all I know."
Shephard began to relax just a little bit. Turns out he truly did care about hurting my feelings if my little stage play revealed anything. "Oh. Well, I mean, I think you have nice hair, if you'll believe me," Shephard asserted, maybe trying a little too hard in correcting his previous mild deriding tone, as I could feel that pang of awkwardness occurring in him after he said that. I thought that was very sweet of him to say either way, especially when I could feel he meant it.
"Aw, thank you," I grinned toothily, still trying to pacify any idea that I was truly upset. "And hey, speaking of hair, I've noticed that your face has grown out a bit more since we first met."
This was true. Shephard had a clean-shaven face when I first met him outside that refinery, and in the weeks since, a very short beard had started forming on his face, one that was a little darker than his dirty blonde hair―which had also grown out a bit. Shephard was tempted to feel his stubbly face, but his gloves had been to too many places here.
"Yeah. I guess I haven't been exactly keeping up with uniform requirements these days, huh?"
"I like the slightly grizzly look," I said. "It suits you."
Shephard smirked in amusement. "If you say so."
These were just a few of the banters we exchanged with each other as we navigated through these woods, climbing up and down the uneven terrain when required. It wasn't all quips and Marine-styled compliments we shared; we had a few moments that touched me as the minutes passed, and they mainly occurred when we started reminiscing on more past events in our lives since the relative safety of these enchanted woods made us more relaxed. Shephard remained endlessly inquisitive about me, as all humans always were, but he broke new grounds today in being the first one to address a personal item of mine that wasn't my staff.
"Say, what is the story about that tiara thingy you're always wearing all the time?" he asked. That spurred me to make a wide-eyed expression that I don't think I've ever made before and since.
"Oh, you mean my diadem?" I wondered, pointing to the silver accessory with the teal jewel on my forehead.
"Yeah, that pretty little thing," Shephard nodded. "Must be special if you're so insistent on wearing it everywhere."
I was too elated to fixate on his subversively playful jib. "It is very sentimental to me, actually," I elucidated. "This is actually a Saurian piece. They're commonly worn by esteemed individuals amongst the nations, mostly royals and their direct subordinates―and even palace servants. I was gifted this when I more or less became adopted by the CloudRunners after completing many quests that enriched the kingdom when they were in dire need."
Shephard dwelt on such a reason. "Sweet," he simply said, though I could sense he was impressed by my accounts. "Is that all you got for your troubles? A fancy head trinket?"
"Not quite," I added. "This is actually part of a set. There are accompanying silver cuffs and braces that went along with it, and even a neck collar. The diadem I have on now belongs to my ceremonial set; my other set was a more casual arrangement, being made of mostly gold. Kyte wore a set that looked just like it. It made us feel even more like sisters now that we had matching wares."
It had been some time since I began recalling back to my eventful yet lovely time on Sauria. When I was taken in by the CloudRunners, Princess Kyte became my constant companion when her mother, the Queen, assigned her to be my guide to their world and help me get acquainted. She was effectively the spunky runt of the Queen's children, not getting the chance to socialise outside the confines of Cape Claw, but that seemed to change when we met.
I loved Kyte. She was essentially the sister I never had, and that's who she was as far as I was concerned. Shephard always seemed to like it whenever I spoke of Kyte, which wasn't too often, and this time wasn't much different. "You miss her?" he asked, his voice turning a little gentler.
"Absolutely," I nodded, my ears folding slightly in longing. "So much has happened since I left to join Star Fox. We had so many adventures together. I'd give anything to see her again now."
Shephard started to appear a little sentimental himself, but he spoke up before I seized the chance to ask him about it. "Hey, I know that life's kicked you to the curb by ripping your parents away at the ripe old age of four, but you honestly don't get many higher scores in life than finding a homie you consider a sibling."
His sentiment touched my heart. My prospect of life had definitely increased since meeting Kyte, in hindsight. Although mostly overshadowed by the global turmoil Sauria had been facing during my time there, some of the best memories of my life were shared with Kyte on all the adventures we had, as well as all the times we caused all manner of mischief in the palace together. I scarcely recall ever having a true laugh until I found my CloudRunner sister amongst the royal family of Cape Claw.
"You're right, Corporal," I said with great fondness. "There truly is no greater treasure than family. I thank the universe for the one I found on Sauria."
Shephard nodded, seemingly pleased with my answer, but then the ends of his lips began to flatten as we passed a couple of those massive and passive three-legged grazers a few metres away―who were slurping up some grass with their tongues. "Do you remember any bits of your home world? Of Cerinia?"
I looked at him for a moment before looking off, for that was somewhat of a complicated question. "I didn't used to. Not entirely," I admitted. "The vortigaunts have actually been a tremendous help in unearthing buried details suppressed by my toddler self after my castaway."
Shephard's brow raised a tad with intrigue, for such developments were a matter I had been keeping between me and my vortigaunt friends―up right until now, anyway. "How far have you guys gotten?"
"Only fragments," I responded. "I don't have a complete picture as of now. A toddler's memory is not so retentive by itself after all, but I'm beginning to remember certain details."
"Like what?"
"Landscapes, which is exciting," I said. "I remember…green hills, massive fluffy white clouds and a blue sky still allowing the stars to shine. But most importantly of all, I've started seeing clearer images of my parents. What they sounded like."
Shephard was thoughtful for a second. "Were they good folks?"
"They were wonderful. I can vividly remember that much," I answered with a smile. "My father was a todd named Randorn, but I have yet to remember my mother's name. She was a beautiful vixen with silver fur, and my father had blue fur just like mine. I must have inherited that from him, and my white body markings looked to have come from my mother. I recall seeing a few underneath her eyes. That is currently all that I'm left with unless I begin to remember more as soon as I resume my vortal plunge."
All of what I said wasn't the whole story, of course. I didn't have the heart to tell Shephard about my last full and painful memory of my parents sending me off to Corneria before our world collapsed, but he at least now knew of the progress I had been making in a practice I had been rather private of. Much like the unearthed memories themselves, it was better to relay what I knew in increments.
"I'm sorry you had to go through all that, man," Shephard said with empathy. "My childhood was no walk in the park either, but I can't imagine being left to fend for yourself before you even lose all your baby teeth."
I didn't quite know what he meant by that, but I understood its sympathetic message vibrantly enough. "My parents gave me a gift, Adrian," I smiled softly. "They saved me from our doomed world. I must continue to honour them by prospering in life, and to always do the right thing no matter where I go or what I do."
"That much you've definitely pulled off plenty well," Shephard said. "Even on Earth, you've made quite a name for yourself. What parent wouldn't be proud of their little girl after she carpet-bombed an entire compound full of evil alien Frankenstein monsters that were outfitted with Gatling dongs?"
That had to be one of the sweetest things I believed he had said to me for the amount of time I knew him, and it was somehow made even sweeter through the crude boyish filter he occasionally spoke through. I didn't think he would truly understand just how much a statement like that meant to me. With what little encouragement I got from others in the things I did, I hoped that my parents somehow felt the same way.
"I hope so, Adrian. I always hope so," I said, soft with sentimentality. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it," he shrugged off. His expression looked peaceful like the woods we delved through. I wanted to say that I believed his parents were proud of him too, but given the amount of unresolved personal anguish that he still had yet to relinquish, I withheld such a comment for the moment. Though I truly did believe that they were proud of him, wherever they might have been now.
"Say, did you ever have someone you considered a sibling, per chance?" I eventually asked him, spontaneously circling back to that brief conversation we had about Kyte. Shephard regarded my question for a moment, and his eventual answer surprised me.
"Yeah. I had a little brother," he revealed, looking a little conflicted. This was quite the unexpected bombshell.
"You did?" I blinked, my ears perking forward with great interest. "You've never mentioned having a little brother!"
"He wasn't all that involved in my life, sadly. We had a rocky relationship, to say the least," Shephard explained, still retaining that weariness in both his eyes and voice. "He wasn't bad, just more moody and socially awkward. Definitely suffered the most from the divorce. He actually moved out and stayed with our aunt until he was eighteen. He joined the Marines and was stationed in Santago, like me, a little while after I enlisted―at least that's what he wrote. I couldn't find him assigned to any company, and I never heard from him again after that, if that needed saying."
"Oh, dear. I'm so sorry," I said, still saddened by the fractured state of his immediate family before he got deployed to Black Mesa. "What do you suppose ever became of him?"
"Hell if I know," Shephard shrugged. "He was also kind of a tall-taler, you know? He liked to enhance the truth about a lot of things, especially about things he was up to or things that happened to him. Wouldn't be surprised if enlisting was one of those. If you were to ask me back then, I'd say he would make a better pirate than a Marine. He was always infatuated with them, anyway."
"What was his name?
"M―"
I was suddenly compelled to stop dead in my tracks, which kept Shephard from finishing his sentence as he saw my instantaneous shift in demeanour. A few three-legged grazers nearby tensed up and raised their heads in alarm the instant I stopped, almost like we all felt the exact same disturbance. Shephard was oblivious to this disturbance evidently and got quite unnerved to see me flare up.
"Woah, what's up?" he pressed, looking around anxiously. He was keen enough to know that it wasn't something pleasant that caught our ears.
"I… I don't know. It…"
Suddenly, something began coursing through the air. The menacing whistling in the distance would have been more than enough to frighten me, but it was the whistling in my mind that really pulled all the alarms. The grazers nearby felt it too and immediately leapt off in the other direction after a moment of local assessment.
"Hide!" I whispered urgently at Shephard, which came out as more of a muffled hiss as I grabbed his arm and pulled him in the same general direction of the grazers. I was filled with a deep level of fear I had never felt before, and I didn't even know what it was I was sensing. All I knew was that it was coming this way, and we should not be within its line of sight.
Very soon, once I reached the mortifying conclusion that we couldn't outpace the interloper, we sought refuge behind a sturdy tree. Once behind cover, we wasted no time in fitting our helmets back on as we readied for a possible confrontation. We were silent and still as we waited for whatever was coming to pass as I kept a protective hand over my friend, who still could not seem to resonate with the dread that I was possessed by.
While the whistling had been faint and distant at first, it was frighteningly closer now and began to transform into a sort of high-pitched squeal that reverbed several times in a session. Braving a very dangerous look to temper my risky curiosity, I peeked my head slightly out into the open, but not enough to where it could be fully seen (I prayed). I couldn't see anything at first, but that quickly changed when a dark shape suddenly formed out from the mists in the distance, and I knew instantly that it was the source of those horrid squeals.
A gangly bipedal body with an enormous bulbous head was floating out from the shades of the woods, gliding over the stream forebodingly as it followed the direction of its flow. It had three beady red eyes that glistened like rubies, earthy skin, short stumpy legs that dangled, long clawed arms, and a third arm in the centre of its chest, much like the vortigaunts'. It floated along leisurely like it was a balloon being carried by a breeze, but I could sense that its immense brain possessed telekinetic properties that enabled it to float along without the need for walking.
I tried to sink further and further down into my suit as it floated past us, seemingly unaware of us, much to our relief, but the dread was not quite done yet. I could hear more squealing coming from up above―a few sets of them. Immediately, I registered that there was a small group of them floating above the tree tops, following the same direction as the one down below. I could even faintly begin to register possible shapes moving across the sharp rays created by the black leaves of the trees.
Shephard and I did not dare to move for at least another minute until I was sure that the danger had passed. Once I was sure that we were in the relative clear, we raised ourselves a bit out of our ducked positions as we assessed our new threat. However, perhaps these weren't as new for one of us.
"I've seen those before…" Shephard whispered, bewildered and full of concern. "Lambda Sector. In the chamber with Freeman. A few of those guys were in there wreaking havoc."
I recognised them too, but not in a way Shephard could relate to. The vortigaunts knew them as well, and it was through them did I realised exactly what these creatures were and what they meant. "We're in deep trouble, Shephard. Very deep trouble…" I declared with great severity.
"What kind of trouble?" Shephard queried, not quite fond of the fretful tone of voice I was using. I turned to look at him, and although he likely couldn't see my eyes through my visor, I reckon that he was at least able to see the terror well enough.
"We are treading across some very treacherous grounds," I realised with a congenital collective dismay. "I worry there's a reason why we haven't encountered any traces of human settlements out here yet…"