As she lay on the forest floor, Eva could feel pins and needles as blood rushed back into her legs. She watched the huntsman sing to himself as he set his lance down and began sorting the slabs of meat. As the pain in her head subsided, she crawled below the lanky creature and tried to lift him.

“Dat, dat, dat.” He pointed up toward his bare foot. Just below his thick, calloused toes a dark purple bruise ran around his ankle where the vine noose held him fast. “Te,” he said, pointing to the pile of loot in the center of camp. Eva looked at the busy huntsman just beyond it, then back to the lanky creature. He was nodding, still pointing at the heap.

“What?” she whispered. “What do you want me to get?”

He responded by pantomiming one hand cutting his arm.

“Hit? Chop? What?”

He repeated the gesture once more.

“I don’t know what you mean. You want me to cut your arm? Wait . . . cut! A knife?” Eva said. Her eyes got big. “Your knife! In your backpack!” She repeated his pantomime.

The creature nodded, grinning.

“Got it,” she whispered. Ducking down, Eva soon found that her shoeless foot was numb and sore from having been snared. On hands and knees she scuttled over to the heaping pile of loot and sidled up next to the creature’s large rucksack. With nimble fingers she opened up the pocket where the sickle-shaped knife was. In the pouch next to it was the unmistakable outline of her Omnipod.

Eva pulled it out and smiled.

Carefully she grabbed her satchel and jackvest from the mound of loot, her eyes screwed to the hairy thickset back of the huntsman all the while. As she turned to go, she spied a small item half-buried in the odd collection of spoils. She plucked out a small bright yellow component and read its label. “T6D9 Centurion Power Cell” was stamped in blocky letters on its dented side. Eva tucked the item into her satchel and rechecked the huntsman’s whereabouts. He was still occupied with his meat carving, so Eva scooted back to help her lanky companion, undetected.

Little one.

A gentle voice wafted into Eva’s thoughts, like old recordings she’d heard of songs. She looked around. Is there someone else here? The air-whale? Eva wondered as she scanned the area. The engrossed huntsman was now dressing his meat, while the collection of desperate birds bit at their binds. Her companion swayed, upside down and silent as he awaited Eva’s return.

She scampered back and handed the knife to him. As he took it, the creature pointed to the woods behind him and whispered, “Tasha, zaata.”