(no subject)
Posting the short story I mentioned earlier. It's based on jeriendhal's ongoing story 'A Summer Intern'.
The thought of Terinu being kicked out of his tree house by a bunch of does made me lol.
NAN’S INTERESTING MORNING.
P. Hewitt. 19/01/11
Nan took a careful sip from her hot rosehip tea, leaned back on the desk chair and sighed. The morning rain had finally stopped. The storm walls, which protected the interior of the dwelling during the damp dawn, had concertinaed back automatically allowing the bright yellow sun to throw its leaf filtered dappled light across the decking of the tree house. All was quiet apart from the bird calls and rustling and creaking of the upper canopy. It was a rare moment of solitude for Nan, the first since she had arrived on Newspring and undertaken her internship as assistant to the First One.
His Royal Snarkiness had been awake when Nan arrived for work that morning. He was already showered and dressed, not in his customary cargo shorts but neatly in a white embroidered shirt and navy pants. He even wore his much hated boots. He told her he was going to be out for most of the morning lecturing a class at the education centre. The complex was an innovation implemented early in the ferin sanctuary’s history. It catered for the learning needs of those ferin who were interested in foregoing their secluded life in the sanctuary forests for adventure in the greater universe. It provided bridging courses, teaching them the skills they needed to function in the vastly more complex society outside the safety of their tribes. It taught all the important little skills that everyone took for granted such as recognizing numbers, or even your own name in print. Ferin were incapable of learning how to read of course, the entire species being genetically dyslexic, but they could memorize strings of symbols and even learn how to reproduce them. They could also be taught to use tools to compensate for their disability such as text to voice devices and dictation pads. The First One wasn’t involved with this area of education though. He hating having to do anything he wasn’t good at which made Nan wonder why for the love of the Holy Mother was he giving the lecture on interspecies relationships.
There was one downside to this area of the First One’s duties and that was his annoying habit of volunteering his intern to mark the assignments for the other lecturers. Nan set her tea back down on its saucer and opened up the next paper on her display, resigned to a morning of marking grades. This one was a short essay about the Alliance monetary system and how tax and bank interest were calculated. It was an advanced subject taken by ferin preparing for their first off sanctuary paid employment. This ferin author had gotten it mostly right including the example calculations for compound interest.
Suddenly the screen chimed and a small popup window appeared in the corner displaying the grinning face of a purple haired wazagan.
“Hi there,” waved Nez, medical intern at the ferin hospital and her bunk mate.
“Oh hi Nez,” Nan grinned back switching on her own webcam. “What are you doing on the computer? I thought you had a clinic rotation today.”
“I did but I swapped out,” replied Nez. She held up a text reader and a half kilogram of printouts. “You know how you told me that going out clubbing last weekend was a bad idea. Well it was a bad idea. My respiratory pathogens assignment is due this evening and I’ve only got the intro written.”
Nan clicked her tongue. “I thought you had that one done?”
“No, that was my case study,” Nez ran her thin, clawed fingers through her mane. “Fortunately Michael was happy to pick up my duties today.” She looked wistful for a moment. Nan knew that, like her, after so many years of studying to finally get the chance to work in the field it was almost painful to find oneself glued to a computer display once again.
“So what are you up to?” asked Nez brightly. “You’re not out visiting the tribes with his Lordship?”
“I wish,” Nan sighed. “He’s gone to the education hub and left me marking papers.”
“So you’re having an exciting day too.”
“Actually,” Nan reflected. “It isn’t toooo bad. They’re papers written up by ferin students. You know it’s pretty amazing how these little guys, who have never known anything more complicated then living in the jungle, can absorb the concepts of basic economy in, what, a couple of months.”
Nez nodded sagely. “And yet so many races, *cough* the entire human species *cough*, cling to their crazy notion that ferin were no more than particularly clever animals? Madness.”
It was all the more motivation for Nan to continue with her own research which might possibly one day break down the boundaries between ferin kind and the rest of the Alliance.
Nez winked at Nan. “I’d better stop procrastinating before I’m forced to ask for an extension.”
“Yes, get it finished,” replied Nan. “I don’t want to be awake at two in the morning with you rustling and muttering to yourself pretending not to be working under the bed clothes. I’ll keep the cam on.”
Nez made a ‘thumbs up’ sign in reply and her head ducked down over her data pad. Nan returned to the file full of assignments and loaded up the next one. Although she tried to concentrate the bland, repetitious paragraphs of galactic economy soon sent her mind drifting away from the display to picture a universe where her own devised language modifications would forever free ferin from their programmed master/servant mind set. She didn’t seek a name for herself, fame was the last thing she was after although as few praise filled paragraphs in Galactic Geographic and Discovery Universe wouldn’t go astray. Her biggest reward would be in knowing that no ferin ever again would be forced to act against his will because of his compulsion to obey.
A sudden flicker on her monitor broke Nan’s revelry. It took her half a second to realize it was the reflection of someone moving somewhere behind her. She swiveled around on her seat, her eyes darted about the decking and the tree limbs beyond. “Hello. Is someone there?”
There was no reply but Nan’s sensitive hearing picked out the sound of claws scrabbling amongst the tree branches nearby.
Nez must have heard her voice. “What’s up?” She asked concerned.
“Nothing bad,” replied Nan softly. “But I think I might have a visitor. I’ll be right back.’
Slowly Nan stood up and stepped cautiously to the patio that surrounded the tree house. Ferin, particularly the wild ones, could be timid when facing a non ferin. Nan’s velvet ears flicked this way and that as she searched for the source of the sound. “Hello, it’s just me, Nan. I’m the First One’s assistant. Can I help you?”
“Is the First One here?” said a voice from behind her.
Startled Nan pivoted around and silently cussed herself when she saw the little magenta haired doe standing on the decking behind her flinch and back up a step.
“No dear,” she answered trying to sound as nonthreatening as possible. “He’s not here at the moment. Perhaps I can help you.”
It was hard to keep the quiver of excitement out of her tail. This was the first time she had been alone with a wild ferin and one who looked like she needed her help. For the first time since she arrived here she could really do something actually useful besides washing the First One’s laundry and doing his endless paperwork. Maybe something that would make him finally see she was far more competent then he seemed to believe.
The ferin doe looked out at the trees and then back to her. “I… I don’t know… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” She rubbed her forearm nervously.
“It’s okay,” said Nan. “Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter and we’ll see what can be done.”
The doe glanced sideways at the foliage again and then with a shake of her tail, made her mind up.
“It’s my cousin. We were foraging near here. But it’s too close to the visitors centre. We didn’t think anyone else would be here.”
“I’m sorry,” Nan was confused. “Your cousin? Is, uh…” She remembered ferin does tend to forage together. “Is she hurt?”
“No,” replied the doe simply. “Are there any others here?” She asked anxiously looking around.
“Well, no, there’s just me. But if you need assistance I can…”
Nan didn’t get time to complete her offer as the little doe dropped back over the side of the verandah, a scary spectacle to watch knowing that the forest floor was tens of metres below.
“Nan,” called Nez’s voice from the computer station. “Are you still there? What’s happening?”
Nan peered over the side of the verandah at the dizzying drop through the leaf canopy but couldn’t see the doe anywhere. She crossed back over to her desk. “I don’t know. There was a doe here just a moment ago. She looked like she wanted help but then she disappeared.”
“Hmmm,” Nez pondered tapping her chin with one fine claw. “Careful, Nan. Some of the wild born ferin think you can sense their feelings just as they can sense each others. She probably assumed you already knew what she was talking about.”
“Damn,” Nan scrunched up her muzzle. “I don’t know if I was supposed to follow her or not. She could be in trouble. Maybe I should call the ranger…”
The sound of several feet alighting on the wooden deck stopped her mid sentence. She turned to see the little magenta haired doe was back. With her was second doe with a mane a shade or two darker. This one was bent over slightly clutching her cousin’s arm with both hands. Before Nan could say anything a third doe thumbed down onto the decking between them. This one had long violet tresses drawn back in a ponytail. She eyed Nan suspiciously.
“This is not a good idea,” she frowned. “We should go.”
“Go where?” asked the first doe. “We left the nest at dawn. It’s too far to go back.”
“There will be another place. Not here, not with an ‘other’.”
“There are many others here. We’re close to their buildings. There is no other place. This is fine. They don’t come here.”
“She’s here,” snapped the violet haired doe gesturing to Nan. “You don’t know what the others are like. You’ve never lived with them.”
It was then that Nan noticed the faint scarring around the doe’s neck. An ex slave. Little wonder she was wary of her.
“She’s a vulpine,” pointed out the first doe. “The vulpine are different. They don’t harm us. You know this…”
Suddenly the doe hanging on her arm gave a cry and her knees buckled underneath her. The violet haired doe leapt over to help the first one support her.
“Are you sure she’s not hurt,” said Nan taking a step forward. “We can help. The hospital is only a few minutes away by skimmer.”
The violet haired doe gave her a dark look. “We don’t need your hospital. We don’t need your help.”
“Leave it, Senshi,” Said the magenta haired doe. She looked pleadingly up at Nan. “She doesn’t have much time. She is past the point of being able to move freely through the branches. We need to stay here.”
It was then that Nan realized what was going on.
Pregnant ferin don’t look pregnant.
By the holy light of the Great Lady!
“O… of course,” she stuttered moving to one side to let the does pass. “But this isn’t a medical facility. There isn’t any equipment; at least I don’t think the First One keeps anything like that here. Maybe I should call up a transport.”
But the ferin bustled past ignoring her and headed into the bedroom.
Nan stood stunned for a few minutes watching through the doorway as the laboring doe climbed up onto the First One’s freshly made bed, her companions joining her on the mattress. Then she turned and thumbed open the chat microphone.
“Well sister,” said Nez raising her eyebrows. “Something has got your whiskers in a quiver. What’s happening?”
“Oh Nez,” Nan blurted. “You’re never going to believe this. There’s a doe here, well three really. And one of them is pregnant and I think… I think she’s having a cub.”
Nez’s eyes widened and she sat up straighter. “You mean a joey,” she breathlessly corrected her. “Oh my goodness! Nan, dear, do you have any idea how lucky you are.”
Lucky? Nan didn’t feel particularly lucky as she glanced back over at the bed where the doe let out another groan.
“Nez help me out here,” she pleaded at the monitor. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never even attended any of my sister’s births. I told them I could get her to the hospital but they just refused.”
“Well of course they refused,” said Nez. “Ferin are very private about their birthing practices. We almost never see them at the hospital unless there is a problem. In fact,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve not had the opportunity to witness a birth before.”
“Well come witness this one,” said Nan. “Please, you’ve had training for this sort of thing. I haven’t. If something goes wrong I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Nothing will go wrong. You’ll be fine.”
“But what if it does? Please, Nez, don’t leave me alone with this.”
Nan watched as the wazagan bit her lip, clearly tempted by the opportunity to watch a rarely witnessed ferin birth. “Are the does okay with you being there?” She asked hesitantly.
Nan glanced over at them. “At the moment I don’t think they really care.”
Nez nodded and suddenly grinned. “Very well then, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Take it easy, Nan. Trust them. They know what they’re doing.” And then the chat window closed.
Nan turned away from the monitor. She couldn’t overcome the feeling that she should be doing something. She chewed the tips of her claws and tried to remember what her sister had told her about birthing. Hot water. She remembered something about her brother-in-law boiling hot water. Or was that just to get him out of the way? The ferin in the bedroom gave another cry and Nan leapt over to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.
What else was there? Her sister said something about chewing taper root to ease the birth pains. Nan opened up the pantry door and ducked her head inside searching frantically for the native vulpine, lemon coloured root. Of course there was none. She felt foolish. Why would a grown ferin buck keep such an item in his pantry anyway?
Shutting the door she glanced around the kitchen looking for anything else that might be of use. She spotted a dish towel hanging off the cooker door. Of course, clean towels. She sprinted to the linen cupboard and yanked out an assortment of non-linen items the First One had piled up in there until she found a stack of clean folded bath towels. Gathering an armful she dashed back into the bedroom and dumped them at the foot of the bed.
The laboring doe was sitting slouched on one hip, her body leaning hard against her magenta haired cousin. Her eyes were closed, her face calm, as if she was asleep. But a tell tale sheen of perspiration dampened her brow told a different story.
The violet haired doe looked at Nan. “What are they for?”
“Ah,” Nan stared clueless back at her. What exactly did they use the towels for? “Ah, for the cub,” she concluded ingeniously. “And to protect the bed from the, ah, birth fluids.”
The doe sniffed. “If you wish.” and she turned her back dismissively.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Nan.
The magenta haired doe looked up at her and said simply “No.”
“Well, if there is anything, you just let me know, okay.”
The doe nodded and turned back to her cousin, massaging her shoulders as the laboring doe began to keen.
Wringing her hands Nan left the bedroom to stand outside on the verandah anxiously scanning the walking trail below for any sign of Nez. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the wazagan showed up to take control.
“Hello vix, ya’ finished those papers already?”
Nan jumped a kilometer. Her heart pounded a tattoo in her throat as she turned to face the First One who was balanced on a nearby limb.
“Nova, girl, ya’ look like ya’ seen a ghost. What’s got ya’ so jumpy.” said the First One as he landed on the decking.
Nan swallowed. “I’m sorry First One,” she said apologizing by reflex. “We’ve got some visitors.”
“Eh?” The old buck glared darkly at her. “What d’ya’ mean visitors? I didn’t say ya’ could invite people over.”
“They’re not my friends…” began Nan but the First One had stomped past her towards the bedroom. She hurried to catch up.
The First One stopped short at the doorway, his eyes widened. “Ah fragg,” he moaned and backed away from the chorus of hisses emanating from inside. Tossing his boots to one side he walked as quickly as was decent to the furthest part of the verandah away from the bedroom and sat down dangling his legs over the side.
“I’m sorry,” Nan stood behind him. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. But,” and here her resolve strengthened, “She’s about to have a cub. I couldn’t exactly turn her away.”
“Settle down vix,” said the First One. “This ain’t your fault. A doe whelps wherever she pleases and there’s nuthin’ can be done about it.”
Nan frowned at the First One’s curious resigned tone of voice. Taking a chance she lowered herself beside the elder, folding her legs beneath her. “May I ask you something?”
“Free planet,” the First One shrugged. “Fire away.”
“Well, it’s just you don’t seem all that surprised.”
“Nope,” the First One leaned back on his arms and kicked at a nearby leaf with his toes. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”
“What do you mean?”
“Does like to hole up somewhere safe when they get busy droppin’ their joeys. Usually they make a kind of nest thing out’ta branches and stuff when it’s near their time. But sometimes they wander too far away and can’t get back. A lot a’ the ferin, as ya’ know, just aren’t that comfortable around the other races. If they’re near the Visitor’s Centre during their time it makes ‘em nervous. They come runnin’ fer a place they feel protected. In other words… here.” He jabbed a thumb towards his bedroom.
“Oh. So this has happened before?” Nan suddenly felt a lot better.
“Yeah, not often but yeah.”
Nan gasped as a thought occurred to her. “What about the father? Shouldn’t we send word to him?”
The First One grabbed her arm before she could leap up. “Ah no,” he chuckled. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Why not? He has a right to be here.” Nan frowned.
“Well for one thing, whoever he is, he may not know he’s about to become a dad. He may not be the alpha buck of her tribe. Anyway guys of my species don’t keep score cards. Only the doe knows fer certain.”
“And for another thing,” lectured a familiar voice from the open trap door behind them. “No sane buck wishing to keep his limbs intact will go anywhere near a birthing doe and her attendants.”
“Nez!” Nan leapt up relieved to see the wazagan who was busy hauling her tall frame through the hole in the decking, dragging a medical kit with her. She straightened and gave the First One a formal, dignified bow.
“Good Morning, Sir. Please pardon my intrusion. May I have your permission to enter your home?”
The buck flipped his hands up in a shrug. “Why not? It seems ta’ be a popular place this mornin’. May I ask what yer doin’ here?”
“Well,” Nez tilted her head. “I had word that your assistant needed some, ah, assistance. And as I am a medical intern and this presents me with a near unique opportunity, well how could I refuse.”
The First One nodded. “They’re in my bedroom. Knock yerself out.”
The wazagan grinned and bowed again. “Thank you, Sir.” She turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
Nan turned to the First One who was settling himself back down onto the ledge. “Would they really attack you if you went in there?”
The first one snorted. “Why d’ya’ think I’m out here?” He kicked his feet up onto a nearby branch and stretched out in a patch of sunlight. “Make yourself useful vix and get me a cold drink.”
Nan shook her head as she wandered back into the kitchen to comply. Ferin birth practices sounded very strange. Why were ferin fathers unwelcome at the birthing, and did they really risk physical injury if they tried to attend it? With her own people, the vulpine, fathers risked physical injury if they didn’t attend. Vixens expected their husbands to be there to hold their hands, massage their sore backs and endure the occasional verbal abuse. But then vixens had their cubs in their homes or in special birthing places attended by trained midwives and a few close friends, not in woven nests hanging from trees. Their friends and family would gather together and pray to the Holy Mother for a safe delivery and a healthy cub. Nan glanced over at the bedroom where the laboring doe had become increasingly more vocal. On impulse she bowed her head and whispered a quiet prayer to She who watches over and protects all. She poured the First One a drink from a pitcher of pineapple juice kept in the cooler. Then she poured herself one and wandered back over to sit by the legendary mighty leader of the ferin people, temporarily exiled from his own house by a group of does.
The sun was nearing its zenith when she heard a sharp whisper coming from behind her. It was Nez, poking her head out of the door. She gestured for Nan to come over. “Quick, come in here.”
Curious Nan rose to her feet leaving the lightly snoring first one next to his empty glass. She approached the room and, with Nez’s encouragement, tiptoed in side. The doe was sitting propped up by her cousin whose arms gently encircled her chest supporting her. She looked puffy and damp from exertion but her eyes were open and a gentle smile brightened her face as she gazed down at her belly. The other does were also attentively watching the same space.
Nan looked quizzically at Nez who raised her finger to her mouth and then pointed at the doe. Nan looked again and had to stifle a gasp. A large pink grub was wriggling about on the doe’s belly. Nan blinked and took a closer look. It wasn’t a grub. It had tiny arms and even tinier legs and thin whip tail. Its eyes were little more than black dots sealed behind eyelids and its ear buds were closed. But it’s wriggling wasn’t directionless. Its efforts were a determined attempt to make its way up the doe’s abdomen tugging itself along with its arms and kicking with its legs.
For several minutes the tiny ferin neonate made its stubborn journey across its mother’s belly until it reached the fold of skin that was the entry to her pouch. With a couple more vigorous kicks the newborn disappeared from sight.
The tension in the bedroom dissipated as the does, and Nez, relaxed, bonded by their shared experienced.
“Allah be praised,” whispered the wazagan reverently.
Nan felt suddenly very, very privileged to have witnessed one of the Holy Mother’s greatest miracles. She looked at the tired new mother’s face and saw her smiling still. But her smile was directed at the door way. Nan followed her gaze to the First One who was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling back at the doe. The First One lingered for a moment before moving out of sight. Nan stepped around the bed and went out to him.
She found him standing out on the verandah staring at the gently swaying branches, the content smile still firmly fixed on his face.
“Did you see?” asked Nan coming to stand beside him.
The First One nodded.
“You must be very proud,” Nan murmured. “All that you did, all that you went through, just so that little baby could be born free.”
The first one gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, that too.”
Nan frowned, curious at his tone. “Why what else is there?”
The First One turned his head and grinned at Nan. “I know that doe. It’s one of mine.”
The thought of Terinu being kicked out of his tree house by a bunch of does made me lol.
NAN’S INTERESTING MORNING.
P. Hewitt. 19/01/11
Nan took a careful sip from her hot rosehip tea, leaned back on the desk chair and sighed. The morning rain had finally stopped. The storm walls, which protected the interior of the dwelling during the damp dawn, had concertinaed back automatically allowing the bright yellow sun to throw its leaf filtered dappled light across the decking of the tree house. All was quiet apart from the bird calls and rustling and creaking of the upper canopy. It was a rare moment of solitude for Nan, the first since she had arrived on Newspring and undertaken her internship as assistant to the First One.
His Royal Snarkiness had been awake when Nan arrived for work that morning. He was already showered and dressed, not in his customary cargo shorts but neatly in a white embroidered shirt and navy pants. He even wore his much hated boots. He told her he was going to be out for most of the morning lecturing a class at the education centre. The complex was an innovation implemented early in the ferin sanctuary’s history. It catered for the learning needs of those ferin who were interested in foregoing their secluded life in the sanctuary forests for adventure in the greater universe. It provided bridging courses, teaching them the skills they needed to function in the vastly more complex society outside the safety of their tribes. It taught all the important little skills that everyone took for granted such as recognizing numbers, or even your own name in print. Ferin were incapable of learning how to read of course, the entire species being genetically dyslexic, but they could memorize strings of symbols and even learn how to reproduce them. They could also be taught to use tools to compensate for their disability such as text to voice devices and dictation pads. The First One wasn’t involved with this area of education though. He hating having to do anything he wasn’t good at which made Nan wonder why for the love of the Holy Mother was he giving the lecture on interspecies relationships.
There was one downside to this area of the First One’s duties and that was his annoying habit of volunteering his intern to mark the assignments for the other lecturers. Nan set her tea back down on its saucer and opened up the next paper on her display, resigned to a morning of marking grades. This one was a short essay about the Alliance monetary system and how tax and bank interest were calculated. It was an advanced subject taken by ferin preparing for their first off sanctuary paid employment. This ferin author had gotten it mostly right including the example calculations for compound interest.
Suddenly the screen chimed and a small popup window appeared in the corner displaying the grinning face of a purple haired wazagan.
“Hi there,” waved Nez, medical intern at the ferin hospital and her bunk mate.
“Oh hi Nez,” Nan grinned back switching on her own webcam. “What are you doing on the computer? I thought you had a clinic rotation today.”
“I did but I swapped out,” replied Nez. She held up a text reader and a half kilogram of printouts. “You know how you told me that going out clubbing last weekend was a bad idea. Well it was a bad idea. My respiratory pathogens assignment is due this evening and I’ve only got the intro written.”
Nan clicked her tongue. “I thought you had that one done?”
“No, that was my case study,” Nez ran her thin, clawed fingers through her mane. “Fortunately Michael was happy to pick up my duties today.” She looked wistful for a moment. Nan knew that, like her, after so many years of studying to finally get the chance to work in the field it was almost painful to find oneself glued to a computer display once again.
“So what are you up to?” asked Nez brightly. “You’re not out visiting the tribes with his Lordship?”
“I wish,” Nan sighed. “He’s gone to the education hub and left me marking papers.”
“So you’re having an exciting day too.”
“Actually,” Nan reflected. “It isn’t toooo bad. They’re papers written up by ferin students. You know it’s pretty amazing how these little guys, who have never known anything more complicated then living in the jungle, can absorb the concepts of basic economy in, what, a couple of months.”
Nez nodded sagely. “And yet so many races, *cough* the entire human species *cough*, cling to their crazy notion that ferin were no more than particularly clever animals? Madness.”
It was all the more motivation for Nan to continue with her own research which might possibly one day break down the boundaries between ferin kind and the rest of the Alliance.
Nez winked at Nan. “I’d better stop procrastinating before I’m forced to ask for an extension.”
“Yes, get it finished,” replied Nan. “I don’t want to be awake at two in the morning with you rustling and muttering to yourself pretending not to be working under the bed clothes. I’ll keep the cam on.”
Nez made a ‘thumbs up’ sign in reply and her head ducked down over her data pad. Nan returned to the file full of assignments and loaded up the next one. Although she tried to concentrate the bland, repetitious paragraphs of galactic economy soon sent her mind drifting away from the display to picture a universe where her own devised language modifications would forever free ferin from their programmed master/servant mind set. She didn’t seek a name for herself, fame was the last thing she was after although as few praise filled paragraphs in Galactic Geographic and Discovery Universe wouldn’t go astray. Her biggest reward would be in knowing that no ferin ever again would be forced to act against his will because of his compulsion to obey.
A sudden flicker on her monitor broke Nan’s revelry. It took her half a second to realize it was the reflection of someone moving somewhere behind her. She swiveled around on her seat, her eyes darted about the decking and the tree limbs beyond. “Hello. Is someone there?”
There was no reply but Nan’s sensitive hearing picked out the sound of claws scrabbling amongst the tree branches nearby.
Nez must have heard her voice. “What’s up?” She asked concerned.
“Nothing bad,” replied Nan softly. “But I think I might have a visitor. I’ll be right back.’
Slowly Nan stood up and stepped cautiously to the patio that surrounded the tree house. Ferin, particularly the wild ones, could be timid when facing a non ferin. Nan’s velvet ears flicked this way and that as she searched for the source of the sound. “Hello, it’s just me, Nan. I’m the First One’s assistant. Can I help you?”
“Is the First One here?” said a voice from behind her.
Startled Nan pivoted around and silently cussed herself when she saw the little magenta haired doe standing on the decking behind her flinch and back up a step.
“No dear,” she answered trying to sound as nonthreatening as possible. “He’s not here at the moment. Perhaps I can help you.”
It was hard to keep the quiver of excitement out of her tail. This was the first time she had been alone with a wild ferin and one who looked like she needed her help. For the first time since she arrived here she could really do something actually useful besides washing the First One’s laundry and doing his endless paperwork. Maybe something that would make him finally see she was far more competent then he seemed to believe.
The ferin doe looked out at the trees and then back to her. “I… I don’t know… maybe this wasn’t a good idea.” She rubbed her forearm nervously.
“It’s okay,” said Nan. “Why don’t you tell me what’s the matter and we’ll see what can be done.”
The doe glanced sideways at the foliage again and then with a shake of her tail, made her mind up.
“It’s my cousin. We were foraging near here. But it’s too close to the visitors centre. We didn’t think anyone else would be here.”
“I’m sorry,” Nan was confused. “Your cousin? Is, uh…” She remembered ferin does tend to forage together. “Is she hurt?”
“No,” replied the doe simply. “Are there any others here?” She asked anxiously looking around.
“Well, no, there’s just me. But if you need assistance I can…”
Nan didn’t get time to complete her offer as the little doe dropped back over the side of the verandah, a scary spectacle to watch knowing that the forest floor was tens of metres below.
“Nan,” called Nez’s voice from the computer station. “Are you still there? What’s happening?”
Nan peered over the side of the verandah at the dizzying drop through the leaf canopy but couldn’t see the doe anywhere. She crossed back over to her desk. “I don’t know. There was a doe here just a moment ago. She looked like she wanted help but then she disappeared.”
“Hmmm,” Nez pondered tapping her chin with one fine claw. “Careful, Nan. Some of the wild born ferin think you can sense their feelings just as they can sense each others. She probably assumed you already knew what she was talking about.”
“Damn,” Nan scrunched up her muzzle. “I don’t know if I was supposed to follow her or not. She could be in trouble. Maybe I should call the ranger…”
The sound of several feet alighting on the wooden deck stopped her mid sentence. She turned to see the little magenta haired doe was back. With her was second doe with a mane a shade or two darker. This one was bent over slightly clutching her cousin’s arm with both hands. Before Nan could say anything a third doe thumbed down onto the decking between them. This one had long violet tresses drawn back in a ponytail. She eyed Nan suspiciously.
“This is not a good idea,” she frowned. “We should go.”
“Go where?” asked the first doe. “We left the nest at dawn. It’s too far to go back.”
“There will be another place. Not here, not with an ‘other’.”
“There are many others here. We’re close to their buildings. There is no other place. This is fine. They don’t come here.”
“She’s here,” snapped the violet haired doe gesturing to Nan. “You don’t know what the others are like. You’ve never lived with them.”
It was then that Nan noticed the faint scarring around the doe’s neck. An ex slave. Little wonder she was wary of her.
“She’s a vulpine,” pointed out the first doe. “The vulpine are different. They don’t harm us. You know this…”
Suddenly the doe hanging on her arm gave a cry and her knees buckled underneath her. The violet haired doe leapt over to help the first one support her.
“Are you sure she’s not hurt,” said Nan taking a step forward. “We can help. The hospital is only a few minutes away by skimmer.”
The violet haired doe gave her a dark look. “We don’t need your hospital. We don’t need your help.”
“Leave it, Senshi,” Said the magenta haired doe. She looked pleadingly up at Nan. “She doesn’t have much time. She is past the point of being able to move freely through the branches. We need to stay here.”
It was then that Nan realized what was going on.
Pregnant ferin don’t look pregnant.
By the holy light of the Great Lady!
“O… of course,” she stuttered moving to one side to let the does pass. “But this isn’t a medical facility. There isn’t any equipment; at least I don’t think the First One keeps anything like that here. Maybe I should call up a transport.”
But the ferin bustled past ignoring her and headed into the bedroom.
Nan stood stunned for a few minutes watching through the doorway as the laboring doe climbed up onto the First One’s freshly made bed, her companions joining her on the mattress. Then she turned and thumbed open the chat microphone.
“Well sister,” said Nez raising her eyebrows. “Something has got your whiskers in a quiver. What’s happening?”
“Oh Nez,” Nan blurted. “You’re never going to believe this. There’s a doe here, well three really. And one of them is pregnant and I think… I think she’s having a cub.”
Nez’s eyes widened and she sat up straighter. “You mean a joey,” she breathlessly corrected her. “Oh my goodness! Nan, dear, do you have any idea how lucky you are.”
Lucky? Nan didn’t feel particularly lucky as she glanced back over at the bed where the doe let out another groan.
“Nez help me out here,” she pleaded at the monitor. “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never even attended any of my sister’s births. I told them I could get her to the hospital but they just refused.”
“Well of course they refused,” said Nez. “Ferin are very private about their birthing practices. We almost never see them at the hospital unless there is a problem. In fact,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I’ve not had the opportunity to witness a birth before.”
“Well come witness this one,” said Nan. “Please, you’ve had training for this sort of thing. I haven’t. If something goes wrong I wouldn’t know what to do.”
“Nothing will go wrong. You’ll be fine.”
“But what if it does? Please, Nez, don’t leave me alone with this.”
Nan watched as the wazagan bit her lip, clearly tempted by the opportunity to watch a rarely witnessed ferin birth. “Are the does okay with you being there?” She asked hesitantly.
Nan glanced over at them. “At the moment I don’t think they really care.”
Nez nodded and suddenly grinned. “Very well then, I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Take it easy, Nan. Trust them. They know what they’re doing.” And then the chat window closed.
Nan turned away from the monitor. She couldn’t overcome the feeling that she should be doing something. She chewed the tips of her claws and tried to remember what her sister had told her about birthing. Hot water. She remembered something about her brother-in-law boiling hot water. Or was that just to get him out of the way? The ferin in the bedroom gave another cry and Nan leapt over to the kitchen to turn on the kettle.
What else was there? Her sister said something about chewing taper root to ease the birth pains. Nan opened up the pantry door and ducked her head inside searching frantically for the native vulpine, lemon coloured root. Of course there was none. She felt foolish. Why would a grown ferin buck keep such an item in his pantry anyway?
Shutting the door she glanced around the kitchen looking for anything else that might be of use. She spotted a dish towel hanging off the cooker door. Of course, clean towels. She sprinted to the linen cupboard and yanked out an assortment of non-linen items the First One had piled up in there until she found a stack of clean folded bath towels. Gathering an armful she dashed back into the bedroom and dumped them at the foot of the bed.
The laboring doe was sitting slouched on one hip, her body leaning hard against her magenta haired cousin. Her eyes were closed, her face calm, as if she was asleep. But a tell tale sheen of perspiration dampened her brow told a different story.
The violet haired doe looked at Nan. “What are they for?”
“Ah,” Nan stared clueless back at her. What exactly did they use the towels for? “Ah, for the cub,” she concluded ingeniously. “And to protect the bed from the, ah, birth fluids.”
The doe sniffed. “If you wish.” and she turned her back dismissively.
“Is there anything I can do?” asked Nan.
The magenta haired doe looked up at her and said simply “No.”
“Well, if there is anything, you just let me know, okay.”
The doe nodded and turned back to her cousin, massaging her shoulders as the laboring doe began to keen.
Wringing her hands Nan left the bedroom to stand outside on the verandah anxiously scanning the walking trail below for any sign of Nez. She hoped it wouldn’t be too long before the wazagan showed up to take control.
“Hello vix, ya’ finished those papers already?”
Nan jumped a kilometer. Her heart pounded a tattoo in her throat as she turned to face the First One who was balanced on a nearby limb.
“Nova, girl, ya’ look like ya’ seen a ghost. What’s got ya’ so jumpy.” said the First One as he landed on the decking.
Nan swallowed. “I’m sorry First One,” she said apologizing by reflex. “We’ve got some visitors.”
“Eh?” The old buck glared darkly at her. “What d’ya’ mean visitors? I didn’t say ya’ could invite people over.”
“They’re not my friends…” began Nan but the First One had stomped past her towards the bedroom. She hurried to catch up.
The First One stopped short at the doorway, his eyes widened. “Ah fragg,” he moaned and backed away from the chorus of hisses emanating from inside. Tossing his boots to one side he walked as quickly as was decent to the furthest part of the verandah away from the bedroom and sat down dangling his legs over the side.
“I’m sorry,” Nan stood behind him. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to do anything wrong. But,” and here her resolve strengthened, “She’s about to have a cub. I couldn’t exactly turn her away.”
“Settle down vix,” said the First One. “This ain’t your fault. A doe whelps wherever she pleases and there’s nuthin’ can be done about it.”
Nan frowned at the First One’s curious resigned tone of voice. Taking a chance she lowered herself beside the elder, folding her legs beneath her. “May I ask you something?”
“Free planet,” the First One shrugged. “Fire away.”
“Well, it’s just you don’t seem all that surprised.”
“Nope,” the First One leaned back on his arms and kicked at a nearby leaf with his toes. “It’s not like it hasn’t happened before.”
“What do you mean?”
“Does like to hole up somewhere safe when they get busy droppin’ their joeys. Usually they make a kind of nest thing out’ta branches and stuff when it’s near their time. But sometimes they wander too far away and can’t get back. A lot a’ the ferin, as ya’ know, just aren’t that comfortable around the other races. If they’re near the Visitor’s Centre during their time it makes ‘em nervous. They come runnin’ fer a place they feel protected. In other words… here.” He jabbed a thumb towards his bedroom.
“Oh. So this has happened before?” Nan suddenly felt a lot better.
“Yeah, not often but yeah.”
Nan gasped as a thought occurred to her. “What about the father? Shouldn’t we send word to him?”
The First One grabbed her arm before she could leap up. “Ah no,” he chuckled. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
“Why not? He has a right to be here.” Nan frowned.
“Well for one thing, whoever he is, he may not know he’s about to become a dad. He may not be the alpha buck of her tribe. Anyway guys of my species don’t keep score cards. Only the doe knows fer certain.”
“And for another thing,” lectured a familiar voice from the open trap door behind them. “No sane buck wishing to keep his limbs intact will go anywhere near a birthing doe and her attendants.”
“Nez!” Nan leapt up relieved to see the wazagan who was busy hauling her tall frame through the hole in the decking, dragging a medical kit with her. She straightened and gave the First One a formal, dignified bow.
“Good Morning, Sir. Please pardon my intrusion. May I have your permission to enter your home?”
The buck flipped his hands up in a shrug. “Why not? It seems ta’ be a popular place this mornin’. May I ask what yer doin’ here?”
“Well,” Nez tilted her head. “I had word that your assistant needed some, ah, assistance. And as I am a medical intern and this presents me with a near unique opportunity, well how could I refuse.”
The First One nodded. “They’re in my bedroom. Knock yerself out.”
The wazagan grinned and bowed again. “Thank you, Sir.” She turned and disappeared into the bedroom.
Nan turned to the First One who was settling himself back down onto the ledge. “Would they really attack you if you went in there?”
The first one snorted. “Why d’ya’ think I’m out here?” He kicked his feet up onto a nearby branch and stretched out in a patch of sunlight. “Make yourself useful vix and get me a cold drink.”
Nan shook her head as she wandered back into the kitchen to comply. Ferin birth practices sounded very strange. Why were ferin fathers unwelcome at the birthing, and did they really risk physical injury if they tried to attend it? With her own people, the vulpine, fathers risked physical injury if they didn’t attend. Vixens expected their husbands to be there to hold their hands, massage their sore backs and endure the occasional verbal abuse. But then vixens had their cubs in their homes or in special birthing places attended by trained midwives and a few close friends, not in woven nests hanging from trees. Their friends and family would gather together and pray to the Holy Mother for a safe delivery and a healthy cub. Nan glanced over at the bedroom where the laboring doe had become increasingly more vocal. On impulse she bowed her head and whispered a quiet prayer to She who watches over and protects all. She poured the First One a drink from a pitcher of pineapple juice kept in the cooler. Then she poured herself one and wandered back over to sit by the legendary mighty leader of the ferin people, temporarily exiled from his own house by a group of does.
The sun was nearing its zenith when she heard a sharp whisper coming from behind her. It was Nez, poking her head out of the door. She gestured for Nan to come over. “Quick, come in here.”
Curious Nan rose to her feet leaving the lightly snoring first one next to his empty glass. She approached the room and, with Nez’s encouragement, tiptoed in side. The doe was sitting propped up by her cousin whose arms gently encircled her chest supporting her. She looked puffy and damp from exertion but her eyes were open and a gentle smile brightened her face as she gazed down at her belly. The other does were also attentively watching the same space.
Nan looked quizzically at Nez who raised her finger to her mouth and then pointed at the doe. Nan looked again and had to stifle a gasp. A large pink grub was wriggling about on the doe’s belly. Nan blinked and took a closer look. It wasn’t a grub. It had tiny arms and even tinier legs and thin whip tail. Its eyes were little more than black dots sealed behind eyelids and its ear buds were closed. But it’s wriggling wasn’t directionless. Its efforts were a determined attempt to make its way up the doe’s abdomen tugging itself along with its arms and kicking with its legs.
For several minutes the tiny ferin neonate made its stubborn journey across its mother’s belly until it reached the fold of skin that was the entry to her pouch. With a couple more vigorous kicks the newborn disappeared from sight.
The tension in the bedroom dissipated as the does, and Nez, relaxed, bonded by their shared experienced.
“Allah be praised,” whispered the wazagan reverently.
Nan felt suddenly very, very privileged to have witnessed one of the Holy Mother’s greatest miracles. She looked at the tired new mother’s face and saw her smiling still. But her smile was directed at the door way. Nan followed her gaze to the First One who was leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed, smiling back at the doe. The First One lingered for a moment before moving out of sight. Nan stepped around the bed and went out to him.
She found him standing out on the verandah staring at the gently swaying branches, the content smile still firmly fixed on his face.
“Did you see?” asked Nan coming to stand beside him.
The First One nodded.
“You must be very proud,” Nan murmured. “All that you did, all that you went through, just so that little baby could be born free.”
The first one gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, that too.”
Nan frowned, curious at his tone. “Why what else is there?”
The First One turned his head and grinned at Nan. “I know that doe. It’s one of mine.”