There it was again. Straightening, eyes narrowing, he whirled and scanned their immediate surroundings. A small knot of perouku were making their way up a sloping branch hung with diademite floss. On the rare occasions when the sun showed itself, the floss would sparkle like diamonds, the light triggering active spore dispersal throughout its surroundings. Showing no interest in the floss, the perouku ambled on short black legs up the branch. Miniature rain shields protected their upper bodies and the young that rode there, clinging tightly to the short fur that sprouted from the adults’ backs, from falling drops. Though they had four eyes apiece, they were focused on their ascent and ignored the outsiders in their midst.
When he completed his circle, still without having espied anything that might be staring back in his direction, Hasa found Jemunu-jah standing awake and alert behind him. The human’s sharp turn had been enough to awaken the sleeping Sakuntala.
“What is?”
Beneath the rain cape, Hasa let his right hand fall away from his gun. “I’ve been up for a few minutes. Can’t escape the feeling there’s something out there that’s watching us.”
Large vertical pupils scanned the rain-washed Viisiiviisii. “Feelings are not scientific. Maybe forest spirits.”
Hasa eyed the taller native quizzically. “‘Forest spirits’? And you say I’m not being scientific?”
Having completed his cursory scrutiny of their surroundings, Jemunu-jah looked back down at him. “A forest spirit can be many things, and can announce its presence in many ways. Not always by scream or shout.”