If each bead laid into a piece of beadwork was a prayer, Bugz decided that each twist of the braids she tied could represent one of her memories. She remembered all of the beautiful moments she and her brother had shared. She picked up more strips of bark and wove them into the pattern of the braid, both lengthening it and ensuring its strength. She thought of her family and her parents, and worried they’d never be the same if her brother didn’t recover. She completed weaving a strand of braided bark more than twenty feet long and placed it next to her on the rock. She drew three more strips of bark from the pile, lined up the tops, and began braiding those as well. She tried to picture a future without Waawaate, but she couldn’t see anything. The thick fibers calloused her hands.

Bugz thought of Feng. She felt a pang of hurt wrestling her from her zen state. Why did he betray me? She grimaced. Why did he pile on like everyone else? Bugz noticed she’d tensed up. She took a deep breath, exhaled, and returned to braiding. She shook her head at the ideas she’d held of Feng. Simple ideas of him being a man she could trust. One to live up to the example set by her father and her brother, or at least the examples she’d believed in earlier. The infallible father. The invincible older brother. Even those notions now disappeared from her mind like sand eroded from the earth. She added more strips to the braid. She happily remembered the beautiful ride she and Feng had taken through the Floraverse, all laughs, flower power, and fun. She finished braiding this chain and placed it next to the first. An image of this rope hanging from a tree flashed in her mind. She studied the cords she’d already completed.