17
Mawei looked up, trying to see Ruffer, but she couldn’t find him. She listened but couldn’t hear him either, and she realized that she couldn’t hear anything. Not crickets, not the wind -nothing. The night was so silent that she thought she must’ve been struck deaf. She tilted her head back and made the night call, loud and long, but there was no response. She couldn’t think of a reason nobody would answer her call. Smoke came in heavy again, wafting around her head. Maybe no one could hear it for some reason, or maybe she hadn’t really made the call at all, she couldn’t remember what it had sounded like. Maybe she’d just meant to give the call and in her fear had gotten confused and thought she’d already done it. She put her hand on the tree, and was glad to feel something solid under her claws. The way she was feeling she wouldn’t have been surprised if it had turned into a wisp of ectoplasm.
She decided to forget it and keep moving but something stopped her. She was holding onto a tree and it seemed important that she stay near it but she couldn’t remember why. It had something to do with the little human child.
“Lala.” She said in sound language. As she spoke the name she heard a rustling above her and a loud crack and then Ruffer slammed into the ground, bringing a large branch down with him.
Her confusion evaporated quickly and she ran over to Ruffer who hadn’t moved since he’d hit the dirt. She turned him over and saw that he was conscious and terrified. He stood and brushed some small branches off his shoulder and chest. “Are you okay?” Mawei asked, but he had already started walking away fast. Mawei caught up to him and put a hand on his arm as they walked. “That was a bad fall,” she said, “are you alright?”
His expression frightened her. He didn’t seem like the yeti she’d taken cover from the storm with, he seemed hallowed-out and empty –a walking husk. Mawei grabbed onto his arm and stopped him. “Ruffer!” She said. “Talk to me. What’s the matter?”
He looked at her and she saw a spark of recognition. “Nothing,” he said, “I’m fine.”
“Did you hear my call?”
“No.” He shut his eyes and shook his head as if trying to erase his memory. “I mean maybe, I’m not sure. I heard a lot of things, but it doesn’t matter. Come on, I’ll stay with you until you find your mom or dad.” He turned and began walking again. This time Mawei stayed beside him.
Soon they came to a fire. They’d reached the edge of the forest and found that where the stream should’ve been was a wall of flames. Mawei thought for a moment that the highland-yetis had somehow set the stream itself on fire, but then realized they had just built the fire up along its banks. The way that the valley was situated below them, the wind came rushing up the hill and blew the smoke into the forest. From where Mawei and Ruffer stood they could see highland-yetis up in the trees with big fans made of woven leaves, pulsing the smoke downward. It seemed that every other tree in the woods had a yeti at the top with a giant fan, making the whole forest look like it was on fire with smoke rising from every area.
There were groups of yetis feeding the fire, some with large armfuls of dead wood and pinecones, which sent plumes of sparks into the night sky and made a cacophonous chorus of cracks and pops. “We should try to go around the fire.” Ruffer said. “If we can get to the other side of the stream we might get a break from this madness.”
They stayed on the edge of the tree line, out of sight of the highland-yetis, and moved quickly. They scrambled up a steep hill and came to a boulder that jutted out of the mud, high above their heads at an obtuse angle. It was too smooth to climb so they went along its base, which took them down into a small alcove where the rock formed a little bowl with moss growing down the side. They continued along the base until they found a safe way up the rock formation, and they started to climb. It didn’t take long for them to climb higher than the treetops, and when they reached the top of the huge rock they had a view of all the surrounding terrain.
Beyond the smoky woods they could see the clearing and there seemed to be some ritual going on there, with yetis covered in red mud and ash, thirteen of them, moving in unison in a snaking line. The trees on the hill far away were still swaying, and the fire, near enough that they could feel its heat, was burning bright.
Mawei had the sudden urge to hold Ruffer’s hand, but he still seemed distracted. “Mawei, call out and maybe your mom will hear it and respond.” He said.
“If you want to leave, go ahead,” Mawei said, “you don’t have to pass me to my parents like I was a pup. You’re not that much older than me.”
Ruffer looked at Mawei as if trying to decipher her. “Do whatever you want, I don’t care, but if my mom were at this Gather I’d be looking for her, and besides, your mother would know if those twins snitched.”
“You’ve been acting strange ever since that fall,” Mawei said, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine.”
Mawei tilted her head back and made the night call again. They listened for a moment and heard a response far off in the distance and then a few muffled ones from the woods and some from across the stream. Soon all the calls had died down except one. Mawei recognized it as her mother. “She’s down there, on the other side of the stream.” She looked at the drop off from the rock to the water. “You feel like going for a dip?” She asked.
Ruffer looked over the edge. “It’s too dangerous to jump from here,” he said, “you don’t know how deep that water is.”
Mawei was surprised. It didn’t look like that far of a drop, maybe thirty-five or forty feet, and the water looked deep enough to break the fall. “Are you scared?” She asked.
“Of course not,” he said, “but why risk breaking your leg when we can go around?”
“You are scared!” She said. “It’s okay, I’ll go first.”
“No Mawei, come on,” he said, “let’s go around.”
“I’ll wave to you if it’s okay.” She said. She looked over the edge and almost hesitated but then decided not to, and jumped. An exhilarating moment of wind rushing through her fur and then she was wet, plunging down into the cold water, to the bottom of the stream, and springing up towards the surface. She treaded water for a moment and looked up to Ruffer. She could see the outline of his head poking out from the ledge above her. She waved her arms, letting him know it was safe and then began swimming to shore.
She got out on the rocky bank and shook as much water off of herself as she could. She didn’t see Ruffer anymore and thought maybe he was climbing down the other side. She squinted up into the darkness but he wasn’t there. Maybe he isn’t afraid of heights, she thought, maybe he took the opportunity to ditch me, and I’ll never see him again. Her mother and aunt Weseil were coming down the hill toward her. She peered back up to the top of the rock one more time but there was no sign of him.