Nova Peak ausgestorben

Still wary of his own kind, inclined to treat strangers like thieves, Thade kept to himself if he was not attempting to shadow Wylla. He was loathe to let her from his sights, out of anyone, but he was often distracted. Often drawn into the odd comforts he’d learned from his life as an abducted child. Like staring plaintively into the sky for long, silent periods, or muttering to stones that were as big as his head, and only as big as his head.

Today’s habit took the form of tearing wide strips of wood from every other tree he passed that day, as if marking them with a file tab that was only legible to him. He stopped when he heard another approach, but wagged his tail happily, and continued his prior commitment with gusto, when he realized it was Mahler.

Papa, he greeted with a cheery growl, through a mouthful of bark. Spitting, he tore off another chunk, and seemed unable to detach himself from the task until the stripped part looked as sufficiently vertical as the others before it. You looking for me? Thade asked, finally turning to give his father his undivided attention, his lips speckled with tree glitter.