The trip to the Binar Valley was a day long flight by estimate of the Darkal which looked to be extended to two days by foot. They planned to make camp in the Restora Forest as it was known as a safe resting ground for traveling Ufuli. As the party was setting off from the village, it became clear to Wrynn that he had not selected the people for the expedition who might know the path. There were watchmen, gatherers, and merchants who waved to them from the road and who looked as though they often traveled the routes, but both Chief and Vessa ignored Wrynn when he suggested they invite one of them along.

So it was a day of walking, matching the pace of the slowest member of the party, the elderly Chief. The Ufuli’s normal stride was already half of Wrynn’s, but the tribe leader made travel slow as he continually stopped to point out objects of interest, a behavior which only grew more intense as they made their way further from the village.

Nerbo flew on ahead, but would stop and wait for them to catch up once they saw Chief dallying. The Darkal did not require any leashing or negative reinforcement to stay which struck Wrynn as odd, but nothing on this planet was making sense to him so far.

“Ah, look there,” said Chief, bouncing along the path through the quiet hillside. “Featherhead mushrooms!” The old Ufuli bent by the side of the road to inspect a patch of frilly mushroom caps. Wrynn stopped with them at the sight of a potential food source.

“What are these used for?” asked Wrynn.

“Put them in a stew and they make for a good meal.” Chief plucked the caps, but left a few to regrow. They stuffed the fungi into a handkerchief and put it in their pack. Wrynn took a scan of the mushrooms through his holo-sight making a note that it was apparently edible.

The party continued on for another half hour before breaking for lunch. Vessa produced a meal of bread and some garden vegetables — leafy greens and what looked like bright red carrots — and they ate together on the hillside. In the distance, some wild animals roamed the plains. Wrynn could have mistaken the four-legged beasts for horses, but with a closer look he saw they had long, drooping necks and thin mouths like a cross between an anteater and a camel. He pointed them out to the others.

“What are those creatures over there?”

Chief craned his neck to see and replied, “Those are jujulopes. They wander around searching for their favorite snacks — juju pickles.”

“Are they dangerous?” asked Wrynn. “Can you eat them?”

The two Ufuli’s mouths dropped at the question and even the Darkal coughed out a bit of lunch.

“Eat them? You may eat juju pickles of course, but why would you wish to eat a living creature? The jujulopes are kind unless you get in the way of their treats.”

Wrynn fought the urge to upset his guides further and swallowed his words. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Of course I was talking about the pickles.” He perhaps should have started with asking if they could speak. The 3431 Sentient Species Act prevented civilized people from eating any creature that could communicate. But the harsh reality of the circle of life seemed a foreign concept to the innocent Ufuli.

They finished their meal, enjoying the sunshine and Wrynn watched his three companions yawn with post-meal contentment. He felt a twinge of their melancholy but forced them to get up and keep moving.

“We’ll never make it to Restora by nightfall if we keep dallying about,” he said.

Vessa and Chief groaned, but got to their feet and the travelers set off once more.

A couple more hours of walking and the forest’s edge came into view. After their meal, Chief grew somewhat less enthusiastic about stopping for every particular stone or misshapen plant, but their pace did not improve by much. The Restora Forest, Wrynn presumed, seemed to wave at them from the distance with leafy boughs. And soon enough, they were amidst the domain of the forest, walking through the shade of the tall, deciduous titans. Nerbo flew a bit lower to avoid the high branches and Chief had become visibly tired from the journey, not even having the energy to look up at his surroundings.

“We should make camp soon,” said Wrynn, understanding well that low morale this soon could be dangerous later.

“I think we should go a little further,” said Vessa, who had perked up once they arrived at the destination in which they were interested. “Scout mentioned they found the butterflies near a large stump.”

Wrynn obliged. “Chief, I can carry you if you’d like.” The words came out of his mouth before he could stop to think. He was not sure why he said such a thing; he was tired himself, short of sleep, and wasn’t exactly in the business of giving free rides. He rationalized the sentiment in his mind that it would help them move along faster.

Somewhat hoping the elderly Ufuli would show some pride, Wrynn was not especially thrilled when Chief nodded in acceptance, but he scooped up the fluff ball and set them on his shoulder regardless.

“Wh-whoa,” cried Chief in response to the sudden swinging motion. Their furry paws gripped tightly onto the fabric of Wrynn’s shirt for balance. “Oh my. There is so much to see from up here.”

Wrynn felt Chief lean forward and put up a hand to steady the old timer. “Easy there,” he cautioned. “Don’t know if you can take a fall from this height like those Darkal.”

Nerbo hissed at him, apparently taking offense at the comment. But without invitation, the Darkal flew lower and perched on Wrynn’s other shoulder as if he had been offering it as free real estate by carrying the Ufuli. Wrynn felt conflicted, but the creatures were not heavy and the weight was now balanced.

“Elder, you should be wary of this large one,” said Nerbo. “He is not trustworthy.”

“Now, now,” said Chief. “Ufuli treat our guests with respect and charity. Some people may be a bit slow to learning, but they often show promise for something down the line.”

The two carried on a light conversation as if Wrynn was not standing in between them. He felt as if he was carrying an angel and a demon like in those cartoon depictions of one’s inner thoughts. Looking down at Vessa who was chuckling at the sight, Wrynn cracked a slight smile.

They came across a clearing a little further on that featured a gnarled tree stump — the remains of one of the forest’s fallen residents. Vessa approached the stump to inspect it while Wrynn set down Chief so he could start gathering wood for a fire. A distant creature chirping filled the evening air and the welcoming smells of the forest soothed the tired travelers’ spirits.

Wrynn finished gathering tinder from fallen tree branches and set up a pit to start a fire. After a couple attempts trying to get his flint to strike, he gave up and set his pistol to the lowest setting. Aiming at the base of the branches, a bright red beam shot out from the weapon’s barrel and ignited the wood, leaving a singe mark in the dirt where it struck.

Witnessing the sight, Chief leapt to their feet and came over to paw at Wrynn’s weapon.

“Amazing!” marveled the old timer staring up as Wrynn pulled his pistol out of reach. “Is this tool designed to spit fire?”

“They don’t recommend using it for that.” Wrynn tried to calm the Ufuli before returning the gun to its holster. “But I like to call it my all-in-one friend.”

They finished preparations for the evening, Vessa helped Wrynn to gather water from a nearby stream, and Wrynn finally built himself a seat from a split tree trunk and sat back to rest his legs in front of the fire. He had not been camping in years, but the crackling flame brought back memories of times long past.

“What do we have for dinner?” asked Wrynn, looking at Vessa.

“Dinner?” The white-furred Ufuli looked at him. “I only packed for lunch. We ate all I had.”

Wrynn looked dumbly at his companion, then at the others. “What’s in your pack, then?”

Vessa pulled their bag closer. “Cages,” they said, producing a series of small, glass insect terrariums filled with different types of foliage. “For the butterflies.”

Chief pulled out a dusty tome along with an assortment of tools, rope, and shears among other items for surveying. “To identify new things on the road and retrieve them to bring home.”

Nerbo let out a cackling laugh. “The silly Ufuli have no sense. You should always bring an extra bloodfruit for the flight.”

Wrynn sighed. He was not eager to start digging into his limited rations, but he reached into his pack and pulled out a metal tin. Inside there was a brick of dried noodles with a few packets of instant seasoning. He removed the dehydrated meat product and put it back in his pack, thinking it was probably unethical to introduce these aliens to meat. A couple minutes after introducing boiled water to the mix, he stirred the soup with a set of metal chopsticks and tested it for flavor. Almost as good as his favorite street vendor on Charon.

He glanced at the two Ufuli, neither of whom made any gesture to beg, though they watched his every move. He was glad to have packed, but he would be drawing down his food supply fast feeding four mouths on this trip.

“Here.” He passed the tin to Chief and showed them how to maneuver the chopsticks to catch the noodles. The old Ufuli ate hungrily, slurping the soup and finishing with a satisfied sigh before passing it along to Vessa.

While Vessa was investigating the ingredients, Nerbo fluttered down and made to sneak a taste causing Vessa to pull back nervously.

“Hey!” barked Wrynn. “Wait your turn. Prisoners get the scraps.”

Nerbo flashed his fangs at the human. “Don’t forget who is leading this journey,” said the Darkal. “I am the important one and should get the first serving.”

“You’ll get the first serving of stunshot if you don’t back down.” Wrynn stayed seated, but glared back at the black ball of fluff. He lowered his tone once the Darkal seemed to relent. “There’s enough for you if you’re patient.” Nerbo considered this for a moment and then flapped down to the space next to Vessa, cheeks puffed out.

Vessa tasted the dish, leaving some for the others. Their eyes lit up with the sample. “What incredible flavors!”

Nerbo took a turn, taking two, greedy mouthfuls but looked up and fluttered back to a low-hanging branch without a word.

When the tin made it back to Wrynn there was only a small amount left. He polished it off, trying not to think about the next time he would be able to eat familiar food once his rations were gone. It would all be worth it if there really was a ship waiting for him.

His belly was not full, but he was no stranger to hunger. Tossing another log onto the fire, he went to start a bed for himself while his companions chatted quietly.

“How curious that aliens make such tasty food,” said Chief.

“I am glad to have been able to try it,” replied Vessa. “Wrynn is a very kind person.”

“He is playing tricks on you, silly Ufuli.” Nerbo chuckled. “He shows his true nature too easily.”

“Now, now. It will take some time to warm up… Strah sa farsh ka…” Wrynn switched off the translation feature, too tired to care about what the little creatures thought of him. His bed of leaves complete, he laid down and closed his eyes, listening to the crackling flames and the quiet sounds of the forest.

Sleep came too easy. Ephemeral thoughts boiled to the surface. Images he had fought to suppress as he tried to get his bearings in this foreign world. There came memories of a loyal crew and friends, arriving like a ship preparing to dock. There, a hopeful wish that he could return home once more. To float adrift in a sea of soft sheets, the quiet breathing of the woman he loved washing over him like a gentle tide.

That phantom sound. The ebb and flow of her rhythmic breath. Drowning the pain of reality, it played in his mind’s ear and carried him to a dreamless rest.