Not Like You (The Simian Forest Saga: Vol. I)

The Neophyte [XXVII]

What if they won't let me come back?

Krissa's gut clenched, feeling dread beginning to set in as she traipsed up the snowy path she remembered so well. She was deep in the territory at this point, scarf stuffed down her coat and the collar zipped all the way to the top. The hood of her sweatshirt and her jacket both covered her muss of ebony, her freckled cheeks flushed from the raw wind that stirred the trees above. The wooden giants creaked in low, droning cries of pain, swaying and bending. Fine, sparkling powder drifted through the breeze, catching sunlight and turning shades of rose and gold.

All she could wonder, as she traipsed through the thickening pines, was if they had possibly moved. Maybe Nic was right? Maybe she was a fool for travelling out this far in hopes that she would find the tribe she had loved so dearly, let alone be accepted again at all. Maybe she would arrive and the familiar mountainside village would be empty. The land began to slope upward in a familiar fashion. It was mid-afternoon at this point, judging by how the sun hit her shoulder. Liepa knuckled along behind her, curious about the alabaster coat upon the ground and how it crunched beneath her feet. She was always exploring, yet never strayed too far from her mother-figure. She wasn't that adventurous.

"What do you think Liepa?" Krissa hummed thoughtfully, pausing at the collection of ram skulls that hung from their gaping eye sockets. Thick, broken branches protruded from their lids, chalky and pallid from years of weathering. Her hands worked subconsciously in order to keep them from going numb. If only she had brought a pair of gloves. Cupping her palms and blowing deeply into them, she managed to warm them temporarily. "Who do you.. want to meet first?"

Her head cocked to the side in order to catch a glimpse of the apeling, going by in a blur of charcoal and skin-tone, snow gathering in her coat as she somersaulted through a drift. With a puff of sparkling alabaster, she landed on her behind, watching as Krissa passed by her and headed along the west-facing path. "Maurice!" the apeling brayed, cheeks puffing in excitement.

"Maurice," she echoed, admiring the chaste light that the young ape gave off. "And why's that?"

Rising to stand bipedal, she looked up at Krissa, beaming. One of her hands brushed outwards before they both cast together and then away, wrists moving fluidly, as if pulling taffy apart in one long-stretched piece. 'His stories,' she signed, pursing her lips.

Laughing softly, Krissa nodded her head. Their moment of brief conversation came to a close, leaving only the gusting wind and the soft call of a raven off in the distance to fill the silence. She was honestly both giddy and concerned, her stomach rolling and tying in knots from the way her nerves were fraying. Liepa was an ape, perhaps they could at least take her in, but what if they---

No. She needn't think that way. No. Of course they would welcome her back with open arms: they were her family, and they couldn't have forgotten about her. Sure, life was hard for them, especially with winter having come so quickly, but they had other things than just survival on their minds. These animals, these beings, they were relationship-oriented. Family was what they had, what they fought for, and she sure as hell was part of their tightly-knit community. Slate had made it abundantly clear that they were all missing her dearly.

Feeling a bit more confident, Krissa swallowed her anxiety and nodded, her pace growing more brisk as they went along. God, she wished she had a horse right now. It would make everything so much easier for her to travel up this hill through the snow. Liepa would love the horses, she knew it, although she was a bit sceptical as to whether she would be afraid of them or not at first. Rubbing her hands together, she hummed a soft little tune, Liepa doing her best to join in. It was one of her favourite ones, something she had come up with herself. If only Krissa could figure out the words to it.