I rested on the rock a while longer and watched the canopy hopefully, but my latest visitor seemed to have scared off the large bird that occasionally dropped the nuts. I hadn't seen a single glimpse of the Saursune since it left.

After resting a while, I wandered back to the crystal in case something like a tiger showed up. At least one tiger around here was a confirmed man-killer. I slowly gathered huge tasseled leaves that were ideal for weaving baskets and piled them beside the crystal.

Once I had a couple of waist-high piles, I sat in the leaf litter beside the spires. For a lack of anything else to do and no food to be found, I began tearing the leaves into strips and braiding them into a small crude basket.

Most kids could have built better baskets, but I rarely had a chance—or the materials—to practice. I made a few more baskets before giving up and leaving the remaining foliage for those back in the village. Basket weaving definitely wasn't one of my skills.

I gathered a few more piles of leaves before the tiredness and unrelenting humid heat forced me to take another break. I sat beside the crystal and drank more water, hoping it would help the hunger pangs. Humans couldn't starve to death in two days, but my stomach refused to accept that fact and leave me in peace. I kept an eye on the distant tree, but the bird never returned.

Distant rustling of plant leaves had me lifting my head. Something was coming this way at a quick pace. The crystal was within reach, so I reached out a hand to touch it instead of standing up.

The rustling slowed, sped up, and slowed again, no longer coming directly toward me. It resumed, tracking to the right. I turned my head, keeping a sharp eye on the foliage in case whatever it was came this way.

After it made almost a full circle of the area, I had a suspicion of who my guest was. Saursunes seemed to love circling an area. I also had a pretty good idea of what—or rather, who—it was looking for.

Sure enough, a few moments later, the Saursune bounded high enough to see over most of the undergrowth. His head turned in my direction as gravity pulled him behind the bushes again. The rustling resumed, coming this way. I found the amount of noise he was making to be very uncharacteristic. Usually I never heard them, unless this one was trying to make sure I heard his approach?

A green head pushed its way between a couple of shrubs. He paused and tilted his head as he looked at me and stretched out his neck with a rather deep crooning sound. His teeth were visible, but a split second later, I realized he was carrying something in his mouth. Something yellowish.

His eyes moved slightly to the left, then back. I realized he was watching my hand on the spire. My heart rate had sped up at the sight of the alien, but I was more curious than scared.

I slowly lowered my hand and set it in my lap.

He immediately walked forward on all fours. His eyes flickered across the piles of leaves stacked behind me, lingering on the empty baskets. Chagrin flooded through me as he inspected my abysmal handiwork. He lowered his head to sniff one, and his jaws opened slightly, letting two oblong shapes drop into it.

Yellow mangos.

The Saursune backed up a step, tilted his head at them, then looked at me.

It took me a second to recall my manners. "Thank you." I glanced between him and the fruit, hoping, but not quite certain. Tentatively, I asked, "Uh, are those for me?"

With a deep hum, he lowered his head and used his nose to push the basket until it bumped into my knee. Whether he had understood my words, which wasn't likely, or my hesitant tone, which was far more likely, the message was clear. They were for me.

"Thank you," I said again, picking one up.

The Saursune watched, still standing right in front of me. The mango was small and had some green on it, just barely ripe. Despite being carried in his mouth, only one spot was a bit damp. Did I dare wash it off, or would that insult him?

Tracking beads were another worry, although mangos only had one big pit, so if I chewed carefully, I'd notice any trackers. My stomach was starving, and increased its demands tenfold now that food was in sight.

Taking a chance, I opened my water skin and poured a bit of water in my hand, then quickly cleaned the mango. When I peeked up through my eyelashes, he was still watching, tilting his head in curiosity. I wasn't sure what an offended Saursune looked like, but I didn't see anything I'd connect with that emotion.

I didn't dare pull out my tiny knife to peel it, so I took a big bite of the mango. Juices flooded into my mouth, sweet and just a bit tart, along with the bitterness of the skin. I pulled the chunk free, then nibbled the luscious fruit away from the skin.

Even though I hadn't registered any tension in the Saursune before, his muscles relaxed just enough for me to notice. He looked around and once again appraised my piles of leaves and the handful of empty baskets before ambling away.

After I finished the small piece, I glanced around, and when I didn't see my visitor, I pulled out my small knife. With fingers that practically shook from nerves and hunger, I quickly peeled both small fruits, unable to find any punctures in the skin to indicate a hidden tracking bead. I cleaned the knife and hid it in its sheath again.

As much as I wanted to cram the mangos into my empty stomach, I forced myself to eat them slowly, savoring the taste and making sure there wasn't anything besides soft fruit. Both mangos were small, but some of my lethargy disappeared with the sugary fruit. I felt much better after eating them.

I carefully scraped every bit of fruit off the large pits, wishing there was more. My sugar-sticky fingers stuck together as I turned the pits over, examining them. I really didn't feel like telling people that a Saursune had brought me a snack, but I didn't want the seeds to go to waste.

With a smile, I got to my feet. There was more than one way to hide the evidence.

After washing my hands in the creek, I found a more open area and dug through the leaf litter. I planted the two pits twenty paces apart, then sunk several sticks into the dirt to form a small, circular, knee-high fence around each seed to keep people from stepping on the seedlings.

I tore strips off a huge leaf and used them to braid a circle. I wedged it onto the tops of the sticks to make sure it looked intentional. A couple of mango trees would be an excellent addition to the fruit grove.

I paused and took a closer look at the trees nearby. There weren't any mangos here, and the ones I had just eaten were a larger, sweeter type cultivated by humans. Not the tiny, acidic wild variety. It might not be unusual for an animal or bird to raid our trees and carry seeds elsewhere, but where had the mango come from?

Was there another crystal somewhere around? If there had been, one of the hunters had a good chance at finding it, and they would have almost certainly returned to take me there so I could "learn" the spot.

But if there wasn't a crystal in the area, where had this type of mango come from? The Saursune had only been gone for about forty minutes, although I wasn't sure how far they could travel or how often they needed to rest.

I used a large leaf to ferry water over to the seeds. After this, they'd be on their own unless a bored porter or one of their companions took pity on it.

Water spattered onto the dirt as the Saursune returned. I kept a close eye on him while I dumped the last of the water onto the ground. He came over and sniffed the ground just outside the stick fence. His hand dug into the dirt at his feet, picking up loose soil, which he dropped above the grass circle so it fell through the opening and on top of where the seed lay.

Tilting his head, he investigated the circular braid of grass. He glanced at me, then back at it, inspecting it so closely his nose almost touched it. He quickly trotted over to the other seedling fence. Likewise, he added a bit more dirt and thoroughly examined the grass circle without touching it.

I wasn't sure what was so fascinating about braided grass, but it sure had his attention.

Idly, I pulled three more strips off a big leaf and began braiding them. The Saursune returned and sat beside me, watching my hands and frequently glancing at my face like a hopeful dog begging for a meat scrap. This was getting kind of weird. And creepy.

After interlinking the two ends to form a circle, I held it out to him, letting the crown-sized braid swing from the tips of my fingers. Slowly, as if I might snatch it away, he reached up and gently took the circle, letting it dangle from his claws.

A deep rumble emanated from his chest as he transferred the grass circle to his jaws, carefully holding it between his teeth. He dipped his head in my direction, lifted it high, and trotted away in a manner that could only be described as triumph.

I felt so, so confused.