The omnom root has a strong grip in the moss, but Nihulu pulls it out easily, flecks of dirt spraying the red clay mask that covers her face. Standing up, she places the root into a sack, which she drops on the doorstep of her small domed observatory. Then, shaking her antlers to clear them of the dirt, she picks up an empty basket and begins her walk to the North Pole.
On the other side of the planet, some two hundred meters away, Nimbus pokes a gnarled finger at the Tree. Its bark is flaking off. Is this normal? It better be, because the Tree is the only tree in the whole world.
“Our very way of life depends on the Tree,” Nimbus mutters, fidgeting with his antlers. “The Tree is large enough to skew our planetary rotation! Without it, we’d be stuck in one place forever!”
Massaging the pain in his neck, he looks around for someone to preach to, but only Rattler is here today. Unlike the other inhabitants, Rattler has neither antlers nor a mud mask covering its face. Consisting primarily of charcoal and bone chips, it drifts wherever it pleases, clinking and shuddering to announce its presence.
It moves south now, away from Nimbus’s hollow, past the dirt patch where the omnom is growing, to the pond in the meadow. It waits there patiently until a little girl pokes her head up from behind a rock.
“Rat!” Daisylion squeals, nearly tripping on her dress as she bounds over. Her antlers are sharp, but Rattler doesn’t mind her embrace. It lifts an ethereal hand to wave at Dandymum, who is never too far behind her daughter.
“Good afternoon, Rattler.” Dandymum sits on her haunches, wolf pelt glistening. “Have you seen Nihulu today? She’s going to teach the little one how to swim.”
“Swim!” Daisylion hollers, leaping into the air and floating momentarily, before remembering to listen to gravity. Rattler shrugs in response to Dandymum. But it quite suddenly stands up, gazing intently over Dandymum’s shoulder at Nimbus, who is sprinting toward them as fast as his stubby legs can carry him.
“Nimbus,” Dandymum begins, “have you seen — ”
“No time!” He gasps for breath. “Something is coming from space. It’s about to land on the Tree!”
Dandymum stands up, paws making grooves in the mud. “Why didn’t Nihulu warn us?”
“She’s not in her observatory! She said she’d be at the North Pole all day!”
The wolf’s ears twitch. “We‘ll have to — ”
She is interrupted again when a colossal jolt shakes the planet, lifting all four of them into the air. Rattler grabs Daisylion by the antlers so she doesn’t fly away.
At Nimbus’s hollow, smoke rises in plumes from a large crater, only inches away from the base of the Tree. Nihulu is still missing.
“I knew it!” Nimbus grumbles as the four approach the pit’s lip. “This day was full of bad omens from the start! First the flaking bark, then the crick in my neck, and now this!”
Something inside the crater curses loudly. A twisted mass of metal sits in the depression like a squashed bug, belching out flames that charr the surrounding moss. Next to the wreckage, a man is hunched over, dusting himself off. When Dandymum clears her throat he turns around, and she cries out in shock. Rattler covers Daisylion’s eyes.
The man wears no mask, but the left half of his face is a horrible contraption of rusty gears and wires. A glowing eye dilates its artificial lens as the man takes in the four figures — two humanoid, one wolf, and one . . . assortment of sticks.
“Stay back!” His voice is hoarse. “If you do as I tell you, nobody has to get hurt.”
“Did you just threaten us?” Nimbus is incredulous. “You crashed your fire-breathing monster into our planet, and you say nobody has to get hurt?”
The man’s real eye narrows. “Listen here, good sir. You’ll never have to hear from me again if you bring me the supplies I need, but if you — ”
“There is nothing on this planet that will make your boat spaceworthy.” Dandymum’s eyes are bright coals behind her mask.
“I can’t live here!” The man takes a step toward them.
“You’re right,” Nimbus growls. The two glare at each other, neither daring to look away. Daisylion hides behind her mother. Smoke billows. Dandymum’s fur bristles.
“Shall I set the table for six tonight?” A voice cuts through the tension. Five heads turn to see Nihulu striding toward the wreck, unperturbed.
“He’s not staying with us,” Nimbus says firmly.
“Nonsense,” Nihulu scoffs. She walks up to the guest and shoves a basket of berries into his astonished arms. “Rattler, you can whittle another spoon for our friend here, can’t you?”
Hesitantly, Rattler begins looking for the right size stick.
Nimbus is aghast. “But — ”
“No buts!” She begins to walk away and motions the stranger to follow. “Dinner at my observatory in half an hour. Don’t be late, or the omnom stew will get cold!”
Nobody else moves for a long moment after she has left. Dandymum eventually sighs, looking at the basket in the man’s arms. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to make a nice fruit spread with those.”
The guest still stands, brow furrowed.
Finally, he hefts the basket onto his shoulder and climbs out of the crater.
On the other side of the planet, some two hundred meters away, Nimbus pokes a gnarled finger at the Tree. Its bark is flaking off. Is this normal? It better be, because the Tree is the only tree in the whole world.
“Our very way of life depends on the Tree,” Nimbus mutters, fidgeting with his antlers. “The Tree is large enough to skew our planetary rotation! Without it, we’d be stuck in one place forever!”
Massaging the pain in his neck, he looks around for someone to preach to, but only Rattler is here today. Unlike the other inhabitants, Rattler has neither antlers nor a mud mask covering its face. Consisting primarily of charcoal and bone chips, it drifts wherever it pleases, clinking and shuddering to announce its presence.
It moves south now, away from Nimbus’s hollow, past the dirt patch where the omnom is growing, to the pond in the meadow. It waits there patiently until a little girl pokes her head up from behind a rock.
“Rat!” Daisylion squeals, nearly tripping on her dress as she bounds over. Her antlers are sharp, but Rattler doesn’t mind her embrace. It lifts an ethereal hand to wave at Dandymum, who is never too far behind her daughter.
“Good afternoon, Rattler.” Dandymum sits on her haunches, wolf pelt glistening. “Have you seen Nihulu today? She’s going to teach the little one how to swim.”
“Swim!” Daisylion hollers, leaping into the air and floating momentarily, before remembering to listen to gravity. Rattler shrugs in response to Dandymum. But it quite suddenly stands up, gazing intently over Dandymum’s shoulder at Nimbus, who is sprinting toward them as fast as his stubby legs can carry him.
“Nimbus,” Dandymum begins, “have you seen — ”
“No time!” He gasps for breath. “Something is coming from space. It’s about to land on the Tree!”
Dandymum stands up, paws making grooves in the mud. “Why didn’t Nihulu warn us?”
“She’s not in her observatory! She said she’d be at the North Pole all day!”
The wolf’s ears twitch. “We‘ll have to — ”
She is interrupted again when a colossal jolt shakes the planet, lifting all four of them into the air. Rattler grabs Daisylion by the antlers so she doesn’t fly away.
At Nimbus’s hollow, smoke rises in plumes from a large crater, only inches away from the base of the Tree. Nihulu is still missing.
“I knew it!” Nimbus grumbles as the four approach the pit’s lip. “This day was full of bad omens from the start! First the flaking bark, then the crick in my neck, and now this!”
Something inside the crater curses loudly. A twisted mass of metal sits in the depression like a squashed bug, belching out flames that charr the surrounding moss. Next to the wreckage, a man is hunched over, dusting himself off. When Dandymum clears her throat he turns around, and she cries out in shock. Rattler covers Daisylion’s eyes.
The man wears no mask, but the left half of his face is a horrible contraption of rusty gears and wires. A glowing eye dilates its artificial lens as the man takes in the four figures — two humanoid, one wolf, and one . . . assortment of sticks.
“Stay back!” His voice is hoarse. “If you do as I tell you, nobody has to get hurt.”
“Did you just threaten us?” Nimbus is incredulous. “You crashed your fire-breathing monster into our planet, and you say nobody has to get hurt?”
The man’s real eye narrows. “Listen here, good sir. You’ll never have to hear from me again if you bring me the supplies I need, but if you — ”
“There is nothing on this planet that will make your boat spaceworthy.” Dandymum’s eyes are bright coals behind her mask.
“I can’t live here!” The man takes a step toward them.
“You’re right,” Nimbus growls. The two glare at each other, neither daring to look away. Daisylion hides behind her mother. Smoke billows. Dandymum’s fur bristles.
“Shall I set the table for six tonight?” A voice cuts through the tension. Five heads turn to see Nihulu striding toward the wreck, unperturbed.
“He’s not staying with us,” Nimbus says firmly.
“Nonsense,” Nihulu scoffs. She walks up to the guest and shoves a basket of berries into his astonished arms. “Rattler, you can whittle another spoon for our friend here, can’t you?”
Hesitantly, Rattler begins looking for the right size stick.
Nimbus is aghast. “But — ”
“No buts!” She begins to walk away and motions the stranger to follow. “Dinner at my observatory in half an hour. Don’t be late, or the omnom stew will get cold!”
Nobody else moves for a long moment after she has left. Dandymum eventually sighs, looking at the basket in the man’s arms. “Tomorrow, I’ll show you how to make a nice fruit spread with those.”
The guest still stands, brow furrowed.
Finally, he hefts the basket onto his shoulder and climbs out of the crater.