With Archie lying in a half-circle, head on paws, Heather had made herself at home on the ground, nestling in the crescent formed by his body. The girl had taken off her cloak, and rolling it up, was using it as a pillow. Within reach, she laid her Maiden dagger and, having bid Fallasha a murmured goodnight, set the small brooch carefully alongside the weapon. Then, in sober observation, she and her ‘Mate watched while TreeLofters raised the ladders and ropes to disappear into the softly radiant and seclusive heights.

“I guess that makes the people especially safe up there at night,” said Heather.

Probably so. And despite having lookouts stationed all around in the trees, realistically, one is never truly safe.

“What do you mean?”

I mean that, ultimately, as long as anyone is alive, there is always the risk of death.

“That’s a happy thought.”

Happy or not, the thought is logical. HumanKinders don’t like to think of life that way.