[h3]Unna Forest, Kingdom of Adhmadh[/h3] Rains fell hard and winds blew rough as the forces of the sea pummeled the land, but the Yara clung tight to a bending tree, for he had weathered storms before. His red body stood out in the dense moisture that had constricted his forest, while his large, suctioned hand reached up for the only fruit this tree had left to pluck, when through the howling wind and rain he could hear the shallow breathing and the beating heart of a human child. [i]Ignore it,[/i] he thought, [i]it is a trap.[/i] He thought nothing of it as he clasped onto the dampened fruit, and, after picking his meal, he scuttled down the tree to the forest floor. He heard the heartbeat quicken and the child grunt as he struggled to survive. The child was alone and trapped, and out of sheer curiosity, he hid himself from human gaze, making his way towards where he could sense it was. The child was stuck under a fallen log. Nearby lay the corpse of a young lamb, who the child was likely there trying to rescue. By now it had fallen unconscious, but the Yara could feel its heart beat, and moved closer, examining the young of his adversaries. Its hair was a sandy blond, and seemed to be a male. It looked like The Boy. --- Mother gave him a grass-sewn sack of nuts and berries picked from the forest's highest trees, and slung it around Wadju's back, much like his younger brother was clasped tight to her own. "You will be safe, [i]Wadjunei[/i]?" It was a hot and sunny day in the forest of the Unna, but the hollow base of the Sognu tree kept the young Yara sheltered from the sun's rays. The child chucked with mischief illuminating his black eyes, the wide grin against his red, rounded head making him look like a tomato. "Yes, [i]Annei[/i], do not be worried, I shall be back before the sun has set." He moved for the tree's entrance when Mother held him back. "Wait, Wadju, your father is going with you." Wadju stood shocked, as the elderly chief fell from the treetop and stood before his son. "Come, [i]Agnei[/i], we should move." Knowing he could not protest, Wadju and The Chief walked through the forest side by side towards the birch where he would meet The Boy. Walking silently until the Unna village had fallen behind them, Wadju spoke up. "I do not understand why you are coming with me." The Chief remained silent to the ears of a child, but his posture and stoic features would have spoken clearly to someone of greater experience. "Could you not hear me [i]Adnei[/i]? I usually meet him alone." Still without response, Wadju fixed his gaze to the forest ahead, frustration stirring inside of him, when the Chief spoke up. "The Guoda have been attacked by humans." --- Excited flames danced along the walls of the Sognu to a song that had been long forgotten. The Yara squatted near the fire with a stick in his hand as he carefully placed a root into the clay pot that was erected above it, when the human child coughed into consciousness. The Yara remained silent. The child sat up, and began to take note of his surroundings, when he saw the fiend sat before him. "Y-you are the Old Yara of Unna Forest!" He remained silent to the child's realization, stirring the pot while carefully avoiding the flames licking its underside. The human sat bewildered, eyes affixed to the red legend while the storm still raged outside. "You know...I wouldn't taste good!" At this, the Yara briefly looked at the young boy, confused, before turning turning back to the pot. "I know you like to eat children...but I wouldn't taste good. Like...dirt, or-or vegetables!" Herbs fell from the Yara's hand into the pot. One missed its marker, and fell into the fire below, filling the hollow with a bitter scent. The child layed back, dissatisfied with his captor's response, and looked at the walls of the tree. They were adorned with markings and artwork, going up as far as he could see. "Did you make these paintings?" "No," The Yara responded. The child was bewildered by the response, as well as the deep croak emitted from the small creature's body, and turned to face him. "Are there others like you here?" The child asked inquisitively. "No." Sniffing the smoke of the pot, the Yara was satisfied, and took it by the handle, walking over to the human. As the red being grew closer, fear welled up in the human boy's eyes, when the pot was handed to him. "Eat," said the Yara, but the child held it hesitantly. Gesturing for him to drink it, the child slowly brought it to his face, taking a sip, when he grimaced at the acrid taste. "You must eat. You are getting sick." The child began consuming the concoction, but his face remained unchanged. --- Wadju approached the Boy by the birch they always meet at, and unslung the sack from his back. "Hey Fean!" The boy responded with a wide grin, and sat up from the ground. "Wadju!" He ran to his friend, and took the sack, placing it by the crate of eggs he brought with him, before he picked up a couple of wooden swords. "Look at what my Father got for us!" the little prince exclaimed, handing the young Yara one of the oaken blades. Wadju took it, and felt it in his hands. They had played with wooden swords before, which usually ended up broken by the day's end, but this time he felt the sword had a different weight. "What's wrong?" asked Fean. "Nothing...my father is watching us today...I do not think we can play as long." Fean nodded, somewhat saddened, the knowledge that the Chief of the Unna was somewhere watching, hidden from human sight somewhat dampening their day. "He says some Yara Ma got hurt by humans, so he is being careful." "Oh." An awkward silence hung in the air. "I wouldn't hurt you." "I know!" The two of them sat down with the swords placed on the ground, and sat looking at the human settlement that stood beyond; Fean's home, and the place Wadju had been forbidden to go. As a strange understanding of things crept up on them, the Boy stood up and stopped it. "Bet you can't catch me!" he shouted before bolting off towards the medow at the edge of the woods, and Wadju laughed as he chased after him. --- The clay pot was half empty on the floor, the child having eaten as much as he was going to, and the Yara was sat watching the downpour outside, nibbling at the fruit he had picked. As the young human stood up, his fingers touching a Yara painting, Old Yara shouted, "Do not touch that!" The child pulled his hand back fearfully, shocked at the Yara's senses, and sat back down. "You don't have to be so grumpy!" he retorted, to which the Yara only grunted. The sandy-haired child began tearing up, and lay down facing the tree wall. The Yara sighed. "You should not say I eat children. It is not true." The human turned his body to face him, confused. "But my papa said-" "Your father is wrong." The child was silent, realizing he had been mean. "Did you see a lamb when you found me? She's why I came into the forest," the child asked, looking at the Yara's back. "She-" He stopped himself. "No. I did not see a lamb." They were silent for a little while longer, the Yara finishing his fruit and throwing the peel to the storm. "My name is Albar," the child said. "What is yours?" The Yara sat quiet for a moment, contemplating how to respond. "Wadju," He said. "I am Wadju."