Leelo held a branch aside as she and Tate made their way through the underbrush. They were practicing his hunting skills the old-fashioned way, since he wouldn’t be able to lure animals with song the way the Endlans did.

Incantu could sing, of course. They weren’t truly voiceless. But their songs held no magic, and the shame that came with their inadequacy meant most incantu children wouldn’t even attempt to sing in front of others.

Tate had a small wooden bow and arrow that he’d fashioned himself over the winter, and as he quietly followed the rabbit he’d chosen, Leelo tried to reassure herself that he would be all right. The rabbit seemed to sense Tate’s presence, but it continued to munch on the clover in the little clearing it had found. At least Tate knew how to hunt. He wouldn’t starve out there.

Yesterday, she and Sage had done their own hunting after their shift as Watchers. There were very strict rules about how many animals Endlans could take for themselves and how many they needed to give to the island. While the Forest was capable of taking its own food, as Leelo had witnessed, it was perfectly content to let the humans help. After all, if it got too greedy, the animals would cross the ice to the mainland in the winter and never return. Everything on Endla was a careful balance of give and take.

Sage had set the snare, and Leelo had done the singing. While every Endlan had a beautiful voice, Leelo had an especially wide vocal range and unique tone. Besides, she far preferred the singing to the killing, and it was always a relief to let the notes out, even if it had only been a few days since she’d last sung.

They were a good team; they’d caught two squirrels and a fat hare. The Forest had gotten the squirrels, since they didn’t have as much meat on them and Fiona could use the hare’s pelt for clothing. Sage had volunteered to take the carcasses back to the pine grove, which had given Leelo enough time to finish all her chores yesterday so she could spend this afternoon with her brother. Sage might not be able to understand what Leelo was going through, but at least she was trying.

For several minutes, Tate sat with his bow poised and an arrow notched, until finally, he released it. The arrow struck the rabbit in its haunches, immobilizing it, and Tate made quick work of slitting its throat, letting the blood run into the soil as he murmured a prayer of thanks to the island.