Chapter 17

During the night, a steady rain began to fall, but the kirins remained dry and comfortable in their tree holes. Again the first to awaken, Speckarin stretched and looked out into a dim, misty, and humid forest. He climbed out onto a branch. For the moment the rain had ceased, but heavy clouds hanging low overhead showed promise of more to come. This morning, for the first time since their departure, he missed the comforts of home: his bed, his kitchen, and his old fireplace.

    “Too early to think thoughts like that,” he said aloud, shaking his head. “It will be a long time before you enjoy those things again—if you ever do.” The question, he thought, is how long? How far must we go, and exactly where are we going?

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