A Toddler in the Haven

“We've got a report of a foundling in the forest, south-west quadrant, on the South Ravine Trail. Red Currant team, you are closest, please respond.”

Carhalca glanced at Harmongl. The pair veered off their regular patrol route along the river, heading up at an angle around a lower shoulder of the mountain rising above them, as Carhalca said “This is Red Currant,” into the comm-unit on her moosehide shoulder strap.

“Red Currant, the report was relayed in by spruce nymphs, who say that a dragon has found a human baby on the South Ravine Trail,and they are now located just above Quill Falls. Please investigate immediately.”

“Confirm, Red Currant enroute to Quill Falls, South Ravine Trail.”

Harmongl raised a thick brow at Carhalca, and they picked up the pace, running quickly through the boreal spruce forest, their long legs easily clearing fallen trunks and pushing through the sparse undergrowth. They headed unerringly to the spot, covering the distance with ease, not speaking, just running.

Carhalca felt a thrill of anticipation. She had been fascinated by humans since seeing some at a distance, when she was very young. A group of them, hiking, and she spotted them on a lookout, from across a valley, pointed them out to her mother, who immediately grabbed her and ducked behind a tree, though they themselves were in only a small clearing, not likely visible to the distant humans. “You can never be too careful, my little chickadee,” her mother had warned her. “You must avoid being seen at all costs. Humans must never even glimpse you. The least little peek and they will seek for more. Some become driven to find 'evidence' we exist, 'proof'. You must never give them proof. The disbelief of most of them is our strongest protection against their voraciousness. Give them proof we exist, and they will never stop looking until they have found us all. And captured us. They will see us not as people, but as beasts.”

“But why, Mama?”, asked young Carhalca.

“Because they are beasts themselves, but won't admit it. They think that they are 'people', and others only animals.”

“Why?”, she had asked again.

“Because they believe themselves to be the ultimate goal of evolution, and therefore inherently superior to all other living beings.”

“Why?”

“Because they see their own weakness, their mortality. They are afraid of it, and so deny it. They claim they have 'souls', which live on after death, and the rest of us do not. In so doing they deny connection with other living beings, with nature. With us.”

“Why?”

“It seems to be in their nature to deny nature, but I do not believe it is so. They have told themselves lies, and taught those lies to their children, for millennia.”

“Why?”

“To justify their cruelty to one another, and their desire to control others.”

“Why?”

“Fear, child, they are ruled by fear. And greed. Which is driven by fear.”

“Why?”

“Oh, my little one! I do not have all the 'Why's for you. All I know is this: even other humans, those who look or behave or believe differently from themselves, they will not accept as equal. They would never even consider that we, hairy, unclothed beasts that they see us as, might be as worthy of life as they are. As intelligent. They believe their technology proves their intelligence. Choosing to live close to the earth, embedded in nature, as we do, is counter to progress, in their eyes.” She shook her head sadly. “No, my chickadee, there is no hope of peaceful coexistence with humans.”

Yet young Carhalca would look around the forest they lived in, at all the other wonderful creatures there, and at the Fay, who came in many shapes and sizes, and couldn't imagine how humans could fail to see all their value, if only they could really see them for who they were. She had been raised in a loving, accepting world and home. She didn't understand how small that world was, where people accepted each other as people, no matter their shape, size, or whether they had feathers, fur, scales, or some combination there-of. As she grew up and realized just how restricted her race was by the self-centered, intolerant wider world beyond Aurora Valley Haven, the home she had never left, she went through a period of resentment and hatred. But then a determination to somehow change the situation overcame her. Sasquatch had a place in the world. Why should they always have to hide? Why must she never go beyond the valley rim?

Because the world was ruled by humans. That was how they saw it, apparently, with no room for other intelligent creatures. They didn't know how to share. She wished there was a way to teach them, a way to reach them.

In spite of her mother's warnings, and those repeated constantly by other adults, Carhalca dreamed of a world where humans and sasquatch met and accepted each other, interacted regularly, as equals. Maybe even daily, sharing land knowledge and technology, working together. She was even learning a human language, English, the one most spoken among the humans living in the area outside Boreal Valley Haven. It was a real challenge, wrapping her tongue around the sounds, soothing her throat so words came out softer. She often practised while on patrol, muttering to herself, calling objects in the forest by their English names. She had to do it under her breath, because Harmongl scowled whenever he heard her, saying there was no point learning the language of creatures they would never talk to. But now she was about to see a human face-to-face! True, it was a baby, so not likely to talk much yet itself, but she could talk to it and it might understand!

Carhalca ran eagerly to meet the human, stretching her long limbs out, running and leaping lightly across the mountain-side, she and Harmongl making scarcely a sound despite being among the largest creatures of the Boreal Valley Haven. Only dragons and trolls were larger. And Aferennza, the Ogre who lived at the very northern end of the valley. Not really in the valley, actually, but high up on the final mountain girding its western rim. He hardly ever left the mountain-top, only when the sheep and goats remembered to stay away, and he had to leave to hunt. And when he wasn't hunting, striving to be quiet, scales!, he made a lot of noise! Like a sack of rocks rolling down a steep hill.

Dragons weren't much quieter, lumbering around on land. In the air, of course, they were hushed grace. Not completely silent, as their wings would whistle in a steep dive, or thrum against the air as they swept down for an up-thrust. Carhalca wondered which dragon had found the child – there weren't many in the valley. It was difficult for any contained area to host more than one family of dragons. Luckily, dragon families grew slowly. One extended family lived in Boreal Valley, in three cave systems in the mountains surrounding it.

Red Currant team's long legs ate up the distance, their feet silently touched down amid rusty needles and small dark leaves of bear berry, and lifted off again, again and again. They rounded the gentle slope and it steepened, dropped down to splashing creek below and rocky cliff above. Their line of travel met the South Ravine Trail winding above the twisting creek, and they turned up it, heading up towards the pass, towards the borders of the hidden valley, their strides lengthening even more on the smooth path.

They slowed as they heard the rush of water falling, rounded a final curve and rise in the trail, and saw the baby.

It was older than Carhalca had expected – more of a toddler than a baby. More chance she would be able to talk with it! It – maybe a she?, Carhalca thought it might be, though it was impossible to be sure through the clothing it wore – was sitting on a patch of low-growing, shiny-leaved bear berry bushes, chortling with glee, gazing raptly up at the sinuous flow of a dancing spruce nymph. The nymph sang as it danced, a wordless song of wind stirring branches, water caressing roots, earth supporting growth throughout the life of a mountain.

Carhalca sighed, instantly captivated herself by the lithe dance and soft song. That child didn't know how lucky it was, to have a nymph dance for it!

She saw the child start, and look away from the dancing nymph, towards movement and a flash of red by the creek, deceptively calm before it plummeted into being Quill Falls. A dragon blue as a distant mountain with a belly a fiery sunset red was turning to them from where it, too, had been watching the dance. Its tail twitched in impatience. Carhalca recognized Tartulle, who lived at this end of the Valley, eldest son in the youngest brother's family.

The child saw the two sasquatch then, and its mouth formed a big 'O'. It looked from sasquatch to dragon and back again, then reached out to the nymph, who bent down and picked the child up. The little one settled in against the nymph's thin chest, stuck a thumb in its mouth, and gazed silently at the two large, hairy creatures and very large scaly one. Carhalca smiled at the child, who shrank away and clasped the nymph tighter. It didn't seem very talkative, unfortunately.

“Harmongl. Carhalca.” the dragon said gruffly, shuffling across the clearing. “You're here. I found this kid. Can I go now?”

“Just hold on a minute, Tartulle,” Harmongl said, holding up a hand. “We'll need to ask you a few questions first.”

“Harrumph! Fine. Ask away. But make it snappy – I'm already late.”

Harmongl took the lead in questioning the dragon. Carhalca pulled a notepad from its pocket on her strap and recorded the answers.

“For the record, your name is Tartulle, correct?” Harmongl started.

“Oh, come now, Harmongl, you know perfectly well who I am and we both know 'the record'” - the dragon gestured at Carhalca writing his answers – “will be burned as soon as the Lead Ranger reads it. We don't keep records here.”

Harmongl sighed. “Just trying to do my job. Okay, Tartulle, you found the child, correct?”

“Yes, that is correct,” the dragon agreed.

“Where exactly did you find the child?”

“A ways up the trail from here, towards the pass.”

“What were you doing at the time when you found it?”

“Hunting. And Darnelle expected me home with dinner long ago.”

“What was the child doing when you found it?”

“Walking down the trail. If you can call it walking – it can hardly stay on its feet. Don't know how it made it so far.”

“Why did you not stay there with it?”

Tartulle snorted a wisp of smoke. “Because that would have required holding the little beast, or at least trapping it within my claws, and it set up an unbearable howl when I did that. More of a yowling, really.” The dragon shuddered, a long sinuous motion that vibrated the ground. “Hideous! I attempted to herd it up the trail, back over the pass, but it wouldn't go. Just sat down and cried when I roared at it, laughed when I blew fire! Well, Saralelle came by about then, so they sent word about the child.”

“The report was of a foundling. This one is too old to be a foundling. Probably wandered down the trail on its own, wasn't abandoned by its parents.”

“I didn't say it was a foundling; Saralelle sent word that I found a baby.”

“It's a toddler, not a baby.”

“It is very young.”

“They're all young until they die, by your standards, aren't they?”

The dragon snorted. “True, but even I can see that this one is far too young to make its own fire, and shouldn't be on its own out here. Its parents are probably not far away.”

“Agreed. Most likely camped the other side of the pass, and out looking for the child right now.” Harmongl paused, huffed something between a snort and a sigh. “Well, they won't find the trail into the valley.” He huffed again. “We'll probably have to return the child, and the sooner the better, before a larger search is started, but we'll have to call it in first.”

“Do you need anything more from me?”

“No, Tartulle, thank you, you're fre- Actually, if you could scout out the position of the camp, or any humans in the area, and come back to report, that would be very helpful.”

The dragon huffed, glanced at the sun. “I'm late already, talk to Saralelle about that. They've already sent out feelers. Should be getting feedback soon, though I don't really understand Nymph communication. You got the message quickly enough.”

“Yes, but I believe it does work more quickly in the valley than outside. It should be sufficient, though, to find the camp. Okay, Tartulle, you can go. Thanks very much for your cooperation.”

“Hhghm! No matter!”, huffed the dragon. “Good luck with getting rid of the kid!” he added over his shoulder as he waddled over to the middle of the clearing. Glancing around to be sure everyone was at a safe distance, he crouched down and unfurled his wings, lifting them high overhead in a swath of smoky blue. The toddler gaped as the dragon leapt into the sky. With a rush of wind his wings swept down and he rose above the trees, spiralling up, growing small in the wide blue above.

He soared away.

Carhalca and Harmongl glanced at each other, crossed the clearing to nymph and child. The child clutched at Saralelle, who shushed it and bounced it on her hip.

“Saralelle,” Harmongl greeted the nymph, “Have you learned anything from it? From her? It does appear to be a female child.”

“Yes, it is a she, she is a girl. Yes, learned a little, but not much, not directly, not specific, not from her. She is scared, but being brave. She is alone, but has found a friend. She is here, but does not know where here is, much less there, where her family is. Her name is V'leen.”

“V'leen?”

“Or something much like that, the child is young, her speech is imperfect, but she is clever, and knows her name.”

“Hmm. But not where her parents are. Do you see them, though, through the spruce,?”

“Yes, we see them, but faintly, they are camped high, they are near the summit, above us. Not far from the pass they camp, and they search, but they stay on their side, so far. So near, and so far. Too near. Not far enough. We must return the child, lest they come this way.”

“Yes. The child must go back. Thank you for all your help. We will return the child ourselves, but if you could remain with her a little longer while we call this in, we would appreciate it.”

“Certainly I will stay. She is captivating, so bright-eyed a child! Happy and laughing and at peace in the forest, despite being alone, with no one she knows. We do not often have opportunity to play with a child, though many walk the boreal forest. Outside the valley, we must only watch.”

Harmongl pulled out his comm-unit, opened a signal to both the Lead Ranger and the head of Human Encounters.

While Harmongl called in his report, Carhalca smiled again at the child, being careful not to show too many teeth. Saralelle set the girl on her feet, and Carhalca lowered herself, going down on one knee, to be closer to her. She still towered over the human toddler, who gazed up at her wide-eyed, urgently sucking her thumb. The girl glanced up at Saralelle – tall, slender, grey-brown of skin with waving green hair, robed in green – who nodded encouragement and drifted closer to the looming, hairy sasquatch. “It's okay, V'leen, Carhalca is a friend. She will take you to your mother.

“Hello, V'leen,” Carhalca pronounced carefully in English.

The child gazed silently up at the sasquatch. “ 'Lo,” she finally said. Carhalca smiled carefully again, and extended a hand slowly towards the little one. She didn't touch her, but held her hand, palm up, in front of her. Her hand was nearly as long as the child was tall. V'leen gazed at the huge hand in wonder, gingerly reached out and touched a leathery fingertip. Letting her small hand rest there against that of the huge creature smiling fiercely down at her, she looked down and studied its big hairy foot for a few moments before raising her eyes to gaze solemnly into its face.

Carhalca smiled wider, and V'leen cowered back. “It's okay, little V'leen, I won't hurt you.” Carhalca said in her gentlest voice. The child burst into tears.

“Tch, tch!” Saralelle scolded the sasquatch, while wrapping a sinuous arm soothingly around the child. “It is for the best that you don't speak, I think. You sound very fearsome.”

Carhalca sighed. V'leen leaned forward and reached out, lightly touched a lock of the sasquatch's hair, then grasped it and tugged. Carhalca chuckled, a low rumbling sound that she stopped when she thought of how it must sound to the small human, but V'leen seemed to recognize it for what it was, and chortled along, giving the hair another tug. She stepped closer and thrust both hands into the thick fur, pulling roughly.

“Ow,” Carhalca said, “gentle, child.” The girl laughed and climbed onto the giant hand, pulled herself to her feet and stood wobbling there. She reached up and grabbed more hair, pulled on it and laughed. Carhalca gently put her other hand out, then held V'leen with it to steady the child while she rose to her feet.

She looked over to Harmongl, who nodded as he slipped his comm-unit back in its pocket on his shoulder strap. “We have approval to return the child,” he said. “Let's go.”

“Good-bye, little V'leen,” Saralelle sang. "Carhalca and Harmongl will take you to your mother now."

The toddler looked startled, tried to reach for the nymph, but Saralelle gently shook her head, and Carhalca tucked the child into the crook of her arm. She protested weakly, cried a bit, then settled into the warmth, one hand grasping a hunk of Carhalca's thick hair, the other thumb shoved firmly in her mouth, and her eyes intent on Carhalca's big, dark face.

Carhalca held V'leen gently but securely, afraid she would drop the child and injure it, or squeeze it too tight. It's skin was soft and smooth, exposed and vulnerable. Carhalca thrilled in the sensation. She was holding a real human child!

She nodded at Harmongl, and they took off at a run up the trail.

The trail became sparse as it neared the valley rim. It was little-travelled, deliberately so. Other than forest creatures, not many inhabitants of the valley ventured out of it. They could only remain safe by staying hidden. There were some among the fay, like nymphs, spirits of the trees, who were connected directly with nature, and lived wherever their nature lived. Others, such as gnomes, dwarves, and elves, found life less fraught in a protected haven.

The pass was high, as were all the passes in and out of the valley. That was part of the protection of this valley – its remoteness and difficulty of access. With the added spells, cloaking devices, and trails that led only away from the valley, never to it, very few humans ever found their way in. When they were young, though, there was a chance that they would feel the magic, and be drawn to it rather than repelled. And one so small as this, Carhalca mused, glancing down at the child in her arms, wandering on its own, likely followed animal trails an adult human wouldn't go down.

They were nearly to the treeline now, and the spruce were scattered, small and spindly, twisted and bent by wind. Far too small to hide a sasquatch's bulk from searching eyes. Let alone two. How many pairs of searching eyes would there be? Saralelle had said nymphs confirmed the presence of humans, but not how many there were.

The trail became narrower, fainter, ended in a patch of sweetfern. “I'll wait here for you,” Harmongl said. “After this last stretch of forest, the way forward is much more open. Take the utmost care to not be seen! This is not a field trip to see humans! It is an operation to ensure our safety in this Haven! I can't stress that enough, but I know you know how important it is, so I shouldn't have to stress over it. Leave the child where they will find it and come back here.”

“Of course,” Carhalca soothed her partner. “Truthfully, I have enjoyed holding this human child, but I do not want its kind to discover and over-run our valley any more than do you. I will be careful.”

Harmongl gave a grim smile, nodded shortly. Carhalca smiled reassurance at him.

She opened the smallest pocket on her shoulder strap, and carefully pinched out some of the glittering dust inside. Sprinkling the dust over her head, she spoke words of a glamour, making her more difficult to see clearly to non-magical eyes. At least adult ones. V'leen clapped at the sparkling dust drifting down, demanded “More!” Carhalca smiled and shook her head, put her finger to her mouth with a soft “Shshsh!” V'leen pouted, then caught sight of a few shimmers on the sasquatch's fur, and on her own skin, and settled back into the cozy nook of Carhalca's arm to study them.

“Look at that! You got pixie dust on the child!” Harmongl exclaimed indignantly.

“Oh, that's no matter, it won't hurt her!” Carhalca reassured him.

He harrumphed. “That wasn't my concern.”

Carhalca shrugged, then put out a calming hand. “We'll be fine. I'll be careful.”

With the child tucked securely into her arm and the glamour shielding her somewhat from human eyes, Carhalca left Harmongl and slipped up the slope through the trees. After a dozen strides she felt a faint tingle as she went through the barrier spells. She was outside the Haven.

She approached the top of the pass cautiously, scanning the more open alpine slopes rising up from the forest. They may have been more open, but their rugged ridges and jumbled rocks could hide any number of humans far better than the tiny trees that clung to life on top of a mountain. A pair of goats picked their way across a cliff two peaks away, and an eagle soared circles above alpine tundra, but that was all the movement she could see. Below the rocky peak and shrubby alpine, trees spread down the wide valley, mostly spruce, a dark green cloak, decorated here and there by paler slashes of green – stands of trembling aspen or balsam poplar. She could see a few bends of the river winding down the valley's centre, a long narrow stretch of blue where the river widened into a lake. The other side of the valley was another mountain range, rugged grey on top, while the range beyond that was capped in white, and white and grey peaks ranged into the distance in all directions. Carefully she studied the valley before her, searching for signs of humans. Her eyes swept the slope, but though the spruce were very scattered at the pass, below they thickened, forming a near solid cover. She no further sign of movement, nor of smoke, either above or below.

Saralelle had said the humans were camped high, near the summit, not far from the pass. Maybe she should just leave the child a little further into the open, then come back to shelter and watch for her to be found. Carhalca decided that was the best course of action, and scanned the area before her carefully. She spotted a large, relatively clear, flat space she could put the child on, checked the rocky, shrubby slope again, and stepped out in front of the rock she had been shielding behind. At the same time an adult human poked her head above the low ridge rising beyond the flatter area. Carhalca froze, and the woman clambered over rocks without noticing the large, hairy biped. She started to turn away, and Carhalca moved to slip back behind the rock. “Mama!” exclaimed the child in her arms. Carhalca froze again, but the human woman looked up, asking “Eveline?”, startled and eager at the call, and her eyes easily found her child. They took a moment more to register that the child was in the arms of a large, hairy creature. Her mouth formed the word silently. “Sasquatch.” Alarm blared across her face. The sasquatch put out a calming hand, and confusion and concern replaced the alarm.

“I no harm V'leen,” the creature said brokenly, forming each word carefully. “I return V'leen you.” The sasquatch set the squirming child down, and the little girl ran trippingly to her mother. The woman scooped her child up and hugged her tight. She nuzzled her hair, drew in her fresh, toddler-in-the-forest scent, and gave silent thanks, murmuring “Eveline, Eveline! I was so worried!”, while rocking back and forth. When she raised her eyes again, the sasquatch was gone.

She squeezed Eveline tight, kissed her all over her face. The little girl laughed, lightly chanting “Mama Mama Mama,” while stroking her mother's cheek. The mother turned to look around the area, was about to call out to her husband when she saw him running toward them.

“Oh my God! Did you see that?” she called excitedly. “That was a sasquatch! A sasquatch found Eveline! It brought her back! Oh my God! I don't believe it!”

“I know! I saw it all, it was amazing!” He reached them, wrapped his arms around them both, holding them close. Eveline clambered into his arms, demanding her daddy's attention. He nuzzled her. She caressed his face and laughed. Her world was back together.

Her father shifted her to one arm, pulled his camera around. “You gotta see the pictures I got! It got so close to you!” he said to Annika, eyes bright, excitement barely contained, fumbling to turn the camera on. “Just wait till these hit the internet!”