"See? They are very friendly and safe," said Dara, sinking into the water of the wooden pond.
Across from them, another octopus was slowly shifting from earthy brown tones back to their usual red.
"They're especially very skillful at crafts," said Scopa, "if they could build this pond out of a tree."
"Oh, that's nothing. They got a bunch of wolves to help."
In a flash, Scopa had melted into woody brown hues. "Wolves?"
"Indebted wolves who wouldn't dare cross the pack again!" Dara puffed up their mantle and playfully blew bubbles into the water, making the tub foam. "You have to admit it's very cozy here. Very convenient for you to visit, too."
"I will do that," Scopa said quietly. "I'm sorry, Dara. We got so lucky thanks to the Spirit's rabbit's peaches. But just because I couldn't step out of hiding and face the rest of the island, we nearly missed out on... everything."
"And I'm sorry for trying to rush you earlier. It would have been too early anyway. We still have years ahead of us. As long as Wolfthorn doesn't impale me on a branch while playing octo-throw - I'm only joking, Scopa!"
Dara's mate eyed them sternly. "In any case, the meeting can't be here. You'll be lucky if the others accept to come all the way to your new tree."
Dara had settled in a tree overlooking a small stream, as close as possible to the raptors' territory. Their old tree did not feel nearly safe enough anymore and they dreaded what they might find there if they explored too much. The pack's proximity, reputation and frequent visits granted them all the protection they needed.
Gathering the elusive tree octopuses of Naelus was no easy feat, even for a tree octopus, and especially for an odd sort of tree octopus like Dara. Scopa's help had been invaluable in getting the slippery molluscs to communicate once more.
A meeting was necessary at least once in every generation, Dara had explained to Duskrunner, so that the various pairs could arrange their clutches to hatch with broad intervals in between. That way, hatchlings would have at least one adult tree octopus alive to check in on them and give them a rudimentary education, mainly focused on survival.
The raptors had been quite horrified upon learning that tree octopuses died automatically after producing their eggs.
"It's all right," Dara had told Duskrunner almost apologetically, "us tree octopuses are so good at hiding, even from each other. That Mother Nature thing probably needed a way to make sure we'll die eventually in case no predator manages to find us. Still, it's always a bit awkward. All of us are reclusive, and none of us really know how to do the parent thing, and it doesn't feel fair to take that role for another octopus's clutch when they can't."
Dara now braced themself to ask an important question of their mate.
"So, once we've chosen the place, will you let them know?"
Once the pair had selected the waters in which they would leave their clutch, and spend the final months of their lives keeping the fragile eggs clean, would Scopa allow the raptors to check in?
The other octopus went a little pale and said, "Fine. I'll need all the help I can get during the final weeks, even if you're still gathering food for me. And those dinosaurs will do fine with the kids. I like how they watch over their hatchlings."
They jumped when Dara emitted a loud whoop and practically splashed out of the tub.
"Get ready to train a bunch of fierce little octopus hatchlings to hunt like raptors!"
***
One of the tricks behind Renpi's longevity was the ability to enter a state of hibernation almost at will. She usually avoided doing so when in her juvenile form, so as not to interrupt her growth. This year, however, as food was to be scarce and rationed on the island, it seemed her best option, to give the creatures she usually preyed on some time to recuperate.
So Renpi had slept all through the colder seasons. When spring came, the result had been an emaciated, aggressive, extremely voracious Sha. She had narrowly avoided a violent hunt by attacking a large fish caught by other animals instead.
Renpi only consented to eat fish during periods of scarcity. Fortunately, it was as nourishing as her usual diet, doubtless aided by the same magic that let other obligate carnivores of Naelus survive on fish.
Her appearance at Beech's celebration drew a few stares and hurried looks-away. The Sha's body had elongated without thickening or padding as she regained more adult, less dog-like proportions, and her bones jutted out more than ever. Without her fur or ears and with shorter legs, she would have looked more like a reptile than a canid. Only her stomach was rotund, as she had stuffed herself with fish before coming to the festival, just to be safe.
To be even safer, she paused by the moon-rabbit and their tray and picked the gooiest-looking mochi of the bunch. Renpi gave Mochi a deep bow and placed a clump of fresh lettuce leaves at their feet. It was a symbolic gift, as the plant was not as easy to find this year, and it required a significant effort for Renpi to part from her favourite treat.
"Thank you again for your timely intervention," she told Mochi. The fish they'd thought of leaving by Renpi's den had contributed to saving a few prey animals from her hunger.
So had the dilophosaurs' contributions. Renpi gave them, too, a bow as she passed, carefully chewing the sticky mochi to give her jaws something to do. A particularly deep bow for Beech made Renpi's snout brush against the ground.
"I remain at the guardians' service should the need arise," she told them simply.
She made her next stop in front of Morag's set of liquor-gourds. Eyeing the little kits who had begun to play with the walnut shells, Renpi decided to pick her own and fill it quickly.
"I see more liquor-buds are ready to bloom," she told Morag, leaving a second bunch of lettuce with her. Looking left and right to make sure no one was watching, Renpi gave the haggis a soft boop of her snout before trotting off with her walnut shell. She was still too hungry to hang around so many small prey animals.
Renpi paced around the edge of the gathering in search of a quieter place to enjoy her haggis-brew. She was just settling with her walnut shell when she noticed the old taniwha.
"Oh, you're still here." Renpi paused, remembered her walnut shell, and downed the drink in one gulp. "I did not come here to celebrate anything," she assured Te Tai, in case he'd assumed the oppposite.
"The mortals want to share their stories every year, apparently, from generation to generation. They like that. Well, these things work better when someone can stick around long enough to tell their children about it. Keep the old stories alive. That's what you taniwhas do, isn't it. I had better listen and remember too, in case you two forget some of the details due to being too busy staring into each other's eyes, or sharing spiritual nuzzles or whatever you wish to do. I will be around to remember."
Two octopuses chilling in a tub, two feet apart because they're not prey.
Dara has introduced their future octopus mate to the raptors of
Tiger !
The other octopus took Dara's death as a lesson to not be such a recluse and come out and mingle a bit more. In several years' time, the raptors will get a clutch of new octopus hatchlings to watch over.
Over the timeskip, Renpi slept. And then ate. She needed much eat. She was so dangerously hangry that it took careful gifts of fish to help her not go on a rampage.
She hangs cautiously around the festival, careful to eat the *food* that creatures are *offering*. Mochi gets some lettuce and a bow,
Shinko .
The dilophosaur family and Beech get bows and eternal allegiance.
Morag gets lettuce/drink sharing,
Celestial .
Renpi then hangs around Te Tai for a bit,
Thorn . It's not like she enjoys hanging around a fellow immortal or anything.