The wind moved around obstacles to reach the esk lazing upon a tree branch. Tintalle raised her brown head, appreciating the way it ruffled her short fur. Whatever could make their way to her was soft, but enough to let the leaves make their own music, and she loved that.
She was just beginning to return to her daydreams when there came a sound. No, a voice. A whisper. Tintalle strained to hear, but she couldn’t make out the words. Squirrels had already begun their slumber, and so had the birds — who was it trying to speak to her? She sniffed the air, trying to detect a presence that didn’t belong, but failed to do so. Her thinking mind wandered to places unwanted, and she felt fear arise. Her body continued to tense as she tried to listen again to the wind. When, after a few moments, the wind abated without much consequence, it was only then that Tintalle allowed herself to rest.
As she returned to laying her head on her paws, she thought back to the humans she saw days before. There had been a vehicle, something unearthly, that came along with them. A sense of familiarity had hit her then. As she became aware that they were creatures she had seen Before, she realised something else that had filled her: wonder — and an emotion akin to disdain. The latter hadn’t felt like hers to feel, but it was there, and she kept it with her, just in case.
She had watched them from atop a tree branch, curious to know their purpose in coming to the forest. Their two legs, and those clothes they wore, were nothing like the other animals she had taken the time to know. Their voices drifted, but Tintalle was too far away to hear what they were saying. She could only see them gesturing, pointing here, and then there, shaking their heads or nodding away. Eventually, they left, leaving a plume of nasty gas behind. Tintalle hadn’t liked that, for it left her sneezing away. There was nothing she could do with the stench, only rely on the moving air that came soon enough to blow it all away.
Large eyes focused on the stars in the night sky. They winked, as if telling her that everything was okay. For some reason, thinking back had left her a little anxious. This had nothing to do with Before. It was then and now. She let her mind drift anywhere and everywhere while watching the sky turn colour.
It was a few hours since dawn that Tintalle finally decided to move from her spot. She allowed herself a satisfying stretch, removing any kinks that had settled themselves within her. Breathing in fresh morning air was one of her favourite things to do, but that morning, something made her cringe.
The voice from last night reached her again just as a zephyr arrived. Tintalle stilled, straining to catch exactly what they were saying. A woman’s voice… An echo… And then— “Fire!”
Tintalle jumped in her spot, almost causing her to lose her footing on the pale aspen branch. It was as if a switch had been turned on, for the voice continued to repeat itself, more frantic as time went. The voice became two, three, five; the increase in numbers was exponential, and it soon became a cacophony of furious and fearful shouts.
What followed were the birds and the squirrels, whose squeaks and squawks joined the chorus. It became so overwhelming and terrifying that Tintalle began to shiver and shrink in on herself. What was going on?
A squirrel passing by paused to give her a look that she understood immediately. He was telling her to run, but Tintalle wanted to know what was going on even if all she wanted was to do exactly as her friend pleaded. She thought of all she had done for this forest since she had been transformed. What had been dead had become alive again with the powers she had come to learn. Arya, the nameless esk from the conservatory, had guided her down this road. Running away now when there was danger lurking didn’t feel right. She had created a home for herself and all her friends – animals who were running away from a monster this moment.
The esk managed to control her trembling when she channelled speech into the squirrel’s mind, “I’ll follow soon after.”
Muscles above large, dark eyes pulled together into a frown, his fear seemingly forgotten in that moment. He chirruped.
Tintalle replied, “Don’t worry about me. I promise to be careful.”
The squirrel rubbed his cheek against hers, then scurried away with the rest of his kin.
In an attempt to calm her nerves, the esk took in one large breath. Breathe in courage, out with fear. Tintalle continued that mantra in her head as she pushed herself to leave the safety of the tree quickly. Travelling on ground would be faster, and speed was of the essence.
Already, the air was thickening with a foul smell. Fire, the voices had said. Tintalle looked around her, then understood: those voices had belonged to the trees. A memory of Before made her conscious of the slight breeze around her — at the way it tousled the eucalyptus leaves around her neck. Further contemplation allowed Tintalle to see the big picture: the trees made use of the air around them to send messages. Whether or not they had deliberately spoken to her, it didn’t matter, for the realisation had awed her.
However, the emotion faded as soon as she heard the screams. It was of such grief and pain that chills crept up her spine.
“Those damned humans! Have they not burned enough?”
“How many have died?”
“I don’t want to be next!”
“Justice! Where’s our justice?”
“It burns!”
Tintalle moved towards black smoke, and then she saw it, the flames licking at charred wood. Her eyes widened as she took in the terrible sight in front of her and felt her heart clench with anguish. She tried her best to summon the powers she had used to recover the forest, but other than having a small sprout coming up where she had stepped, nothing worked.
Eventually, without much choice, Tintalle had to turn back. She didn’t tire, but she could feel the heat racing to engulf her in its flames. Then, at the corner of her eye, she saw him. Ikkit. He was perched on a branch, his squirrel-like form so relaxed it was if the forest was free from any danger. The dark shadows that had made Tintalle afraid when they last met still surrounded him.
Just as she was about to call out, to tell him to run, his owlish head turned to her.
“The trees cry out as they die, but the humans cannot hear. They hear nothing,” said Ikkit mockingly. “Let us see how you will solve this.” His whole being lit up with such interest, Tintalle couldn’t help but be seen as an object of amusement.
“Won’t you help?” Shouldn’t he? The forest was his home too.
“Where’s the fun in that? The wind already favours you.”
When she next looked back, Ikkit was gone.
“The wind… favours me?” What did that mean? As if answering her question, a wind picked up. And in her eyes, it was as if she was looking at something new, for the wind, the air — it was the lightest green, standing out against the smoke that was obscuring the morning sky.
But this was no time to be basking in wonder.
Wind, please guide me. Tintalle turned swiftly to face the monstrosity. The element immediately did her bidding, blowing so hard it pushed against the fire, preventing it from moving any further. She knew she had to contain it, so she began creating a sealed boundary. The fire would die easily on its own, so the wind said. Sacrifices had to be made, but there was no other choice. Her heart broke as she continued to listen to the screams of the dying.
When she finally let go, she did so with a loud exhale. Tintalle was watching the last of the black smoke disappearing into the atmosphere when she saw them: the two-legged creatures. They were making their way through the remains of her friends. Seeing them looking about without a care in the world, looking dazzled rather than apologetic, sent a wave of animosity through her soul.
Tintalle heard what they heard. The wind had returned, flowing as a breeze around them.
“We know your secrets…” They echoed, and the five human beings stilled.
“Did anyone hear that?” one of them spoke.
Before any of his companions could reply, the wind continued, “John, we see the anger in you when your son runs towards another man, his step-father. But you must realise that this is what you deserve. How could you ever be a father good enough for Tyler? Your wife cannot even stand to be with you. Nothing you do will make you any less despicable to be loved.”
“Lily, we see your insecurities, as you should. The pain of never finding another man in your life. They see that darkness in you; they can see how you had cheated on two men at the same time. You don’t deserve another chance. You deserve to be alone forever.”
“Robert, listen to yourself. You want to kill the boss you hate? You should hate yourself more for not stopping this…”
“Let’s get out of here,” the man who had spoken earlier said, this time fearfully. He ran off first, not wanting to listen to his deepest secrets. His colleagues followed after, never turning back.
This time, Tintalle did allow herself to let fascination consume her. She had just stopped a fire all on her own. Well, with the help of the wind, of course. Without knowing, she had made a new friend. Even if its power should scare her, she found herself embracing it instead. Tintalle knew she could use it for good and bad, and at least now she knew she was never going to be as powerless as before. No longer.
“Tintalle and her big heart…”
The esk looked up at the sky and glowed.
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