Horvaan sat upon the chieftain’s stone, high in the center of the settlement, watching his son bow below him. Around them, the tribe gathered in silent rings. The ancestors' hum pulsed in Horvaan's core. He remembered his father—a chieftain and gatherer who had discovered the lightroot’s glow when submerged in water. The Sowanans had quickly adapted it to illuminate their dwellings and shadowed areas of the settlement.

  Horvaan had been a hunter and had earned his place by killing a clawbeak, a fierce winged predator. He had soon mastered the stone-throwing technique and identified the most vulnerable parts of the creature to take it down quickly. The hooked wings and skulls of these once-feared predators now adorned many a Sowanan dwelling. And although there were other kinds of predators they hadn't yet killed, no experienced hunter feared the clawbeak anymore. His father had gifted the tribe lightroot’s glow, just as he’d conquered the clawbeak. It was a victory over fear for all Sowanans.

  Fear.

  Horvaan could feel it. A new fear loomed—a blazing star in the Lightward sky.

  His tendrils stilled as he looked down at his son. "Where were you?" he asked. The boulder gleamed smooth, worn by generations of Sowanan feet. The eternal red light reflected sharply on its surface. The scent of crushed leaves and halsaa sap reminded Horvaan of his youth. The air was alive with the soft rustling of leaves and the occasional chitter of an infant, a comforting backdrop to the solemn gathering. Horvaan was seated on thick overlapping leaves, a fragrance rising continuously from the cut stems, as had sat many of his chieftain ancestors, a seat he feared his son wouldn't be worthy of when the time arrived. Though not inherited, the chieftain’s seat had passed to many in Horvaan’s line—not because of blood, but earned wisdom. He feared Hanaan wouldn’t earn it. They hadn't been the fastest gatherers or hunters but had contributed a new learning to the Sowanan: A new plant or fruit to eat, a suitable new animal to hunt and the manner in which it should be hunted, or a new way to avoid being the prey of the various predators in Aio's forests.

  Hanaan, his head bowed in two-fold obesiance, addressed his father and chief, "I was searching for a new herb, my father." He clenched his fingers, hiding the red-stained tip. A mark of the cave—not of the hunt.

  The chieftain shifted his dark-eyed gaze to Jaaim, his head tendrils shook gently in inquiry. The sowana's violet eyes dropped quickly when she noticed the chieftain's gaze upon her. He was looking for affirmation or denial; he received neither from her. Horvaan's eyes blinked slowly, a gesture akin to a human sigh. Of course, she wouldn't speak ill of Hanaan. She loved him. Foolish sowa. She deserved far better than his wayward son.

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  "A star streaks Rightward. Four meals' walk." The chief spoke loudly, pointing with his four-digited hand, causing several Sowanan heads to turn in the direction. "Our fathers spoke of such things, but these streaking stars only appeared in the Darkward sky." His tone had taken on a mystic quality, as if channeling the wisdom of countless ancestors. "We must know what it is—for us, for our children." He intoned slowly, looking at the denizens of his settlement who stood in silent respect.

  "Who goes with Hanaan?" he asked, his voice sharp, his head moved around quickly, tendrils swayed wildly. And with that, it was done. Hanaan's tendrils quivered involuntarily. With a single query, his father had made him the leader of an expedition. He felt the weight of responsibility that now settled heavily on his shoulders. He wasn’t ready for this. He had never been ready. But his father’s gaze bore into him, demanding more than he thought he could give.

  As if sensing Hanaan's despair, Jaaim raised her head, stepped forward, and lowered it back again.

  Horvaan’s voice rose sharply. “Jaaim!” His head tendrils swayed with approval. He wasn't surprised. He'd fully expected the sowana to be the first to volunteer. Good. Although she was young, the sowana had often displayed excellent hunting prowess and gathering skills. A rare combination for a sowana.

  Merdaar, the best hunter of the settlement, stepped in from the crowd and stood beside Hanaan. Being considerably taller, he looked down at the chieftain's son, considering him carefully, wondering if he would be an asset or a weight. But he was in agreement with the chieftain's decision. Hanaan should start learning to contribute.

  "The swift Merdaar!" Horvaan yelled. "Two more shall go!"

  Jaaim, her head still lowered, slowly turned to look at a young wiry Sowanan in the crowd. The sowano met her gaze, then turned his head Lightward as if seeking divine intervention to help him out of this predicament. Regardless, he stepped forward and took his place beside his sister. She discreetly tapped his hand with her finger in gratitude. He looked at her now-lowered head and did a slow blink.

  "Larkaan!" Horvaan said as he regarded the sowano. He was pleased. Larkaan was resourceful, a quick thinker, an excellent gatherer like his sister.

  A stocky Sowanan stepped in from the crowd. Horvaan struggled for a moment to recall his name. He had sudden flashes of memory: Broken branches, yelling as he fell down, clumsily stepping on collected food. Horvaan blinked again. At least they'll have someone strong to carry the meals.

  "Orkaal!" he tried to speak the name with the same enthusiasm as he had for the others. Merdaar's blink was excruciatingly slow, and he had to consciously still the disapproving flicking of his tail. 'At least the starfall isn't that far,' he thought to himself.

  Horvaan rose, his joints whispering their discontent as he leapt down from the boulder. He landed with a soft thud on all fours, hiding his discomfort behind a mask of authority. His tendrils stilled as he surveyed the five Sowanans before him. "May your faces ever be toward the light." His voice was soft now but still clear in the silence. "May your backs ever be toward the dark," the party, along with the entire settlement, responded with a hushed tone.

  Horvaan's eyes locked on Merdaar, an unspoken request rather than a command seemed to pass to him. Watch over my son. A plea of a father. Merdaar held Horvaan's gaze in quiet reassurance.