Chapter 2: Up in the Trees
The air smelled of damp moss, ancient trees, and something wild that Savannah couldn't quite place, a scent as natural and foreign as the world she now found herself in. Korran had easily moved ahead, leaping from branch to branch with the grace of a predator, his movements so fluid it seemed like second nature. Savannah, on the other hand, was struggling. She was trying, truly, to follow his lead, but the dizziness from her earlier headache hadn't gone away. It was like the world had suddenly spun out of focus, every branch she stepped on swaying under her feet like a thin thread of rope between worlds.
The sky above them had finally begun to shift back from the deep crimson of the eclipse to a softer mix of ruddy oranges and faded yellows. It wasn't the normal sun Savannah was used to seeing, but it was still beautiful. Three moons hovered in the sky, the largest one now a shadow with its dark swirling rings. The blood-red color had faded, but the quiet sense of something extraordinary still lingered in the air, like the world itself was holding its breath.
Savannah had tried to push through the discomfort, but every step she took felt more unsteady. It wasn't just the dizziness. It was the overwhelming strangeness of everything—the vines underfoot, the strange, alien forest, and the fact that she couldn't remember anything before waking up in this world.
She let out a small, frustrated sigh, her steps faltering as another wave of dizziness struck. She didn't know where she was going, didn't know who to trust, and she didn't know how to deal with any of it.
"Are you just going to leave me?" she called up to Korran, her voice tinged with frustration. "You could carry me on your back!"
Korran paused in mid-jump and looked back down at her, an amused expression crossing his face. "You'll be fine," he called, almost as though he were speaking to a child. "You just need to keep up."
She clenched her jaw. "I'm not a child, Korran," she grumbled, pushing herself forward again, though every step felt like she was fighting against her own body.
The more she tried to walk, the worse it got. Her head was pounding, the dizziness was growing, and she was getting slower with each step. Then, she felt it. Her vision blurred for a moment, and before she could react, her foot slipped off the side of the narrow branch she had been standing on. Her body lurched forward, and she only barely caught herself, her heart pounding in her chest.
But the strain was too much. Her grip loosened, and in that moment of panic, she felt herself falling.
Korran had been watching her from above, and the moment he saw her begin to lose her balance, his heart skipped a beat. He leapt down without thinking, catching her in mid-air with ease and pulling her back against his chest.
"You need to stop," he said sharply, his voice firm with a new sense of concern. "You're not ready for this. You're still recovering."
Savannah blinked up at him, breathing heavily, her face flushed with embarrassment and the lingering panic of almost falling. "I didn't... I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."
Korran's gaze softened, though his expression was still intense. "You know what? I was wrong, you shouldn't be pushing yourself so hard. You're lucky I was close. You should have said something sooner."
She tried to stand on her own, but her legs felt unsteady, like they might give out at any moment. "I... I did! I thought I'd try since you didn't listen. I didn't know it would be this hard and my head is in agony."
Korran studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes reading her as though she were an open book. The lines of concern deepened on his face, and without another word, he hoisted her up into his arms effortlessly. Savannah yelped in surprise, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of red.
"Don't argue," Korran said softly, his tone no longer teasing but rather protective. "I'm carrying you. You're too weak right now to walk."
Savannah felt her heart race for an entirely different reason now—Korran's strength, his closeness, and the fact that he was so completely unbothered by the situation. She wanted to protest, but the reality of her weakness settled into her bones, and she reluctantly nodded.
"Fine. Just... Just get me to wherever we're going."
Korran didn't answer, but the briefest smile tugged at his lips as he carried her through the trees, moving quickly and efficiently through the branches. As they ascended higher, the air became cooler and fresher, and the sound of the forest's heartbeat faded into the distance.
The village in the treetops was a marvel. The massive trees, older than anything Savannah had ever imagined, formed a natural foundation for the wooden platforms, bridges, and homes that seemed to grow out of the branches themselves. The homes were made from thick, gnarled wood, tied together with ropes and vines, and perched in the crooks of the trees as though they had always been there. Some structures were simple, built for sleeping and sheltering from the elements, while others were large communal spaces for gathering and feasts. There were no walls, only wide open spaces with ropes hanging down like ladders between levels, weaving from one platform to the next.
The trees here were so ancient and large that the village stretched between them like a city in the sky. It felt like something out of a dream—a mixture of simplicity and complexity, a place that seemed to belong to the very earth itself.
As Korran carried her through the village, Savannah couldn't help but look around in awe. The panther people moved gracefully along the branches, their lithe forms blending with the shadows and light of the towering trees. The village was peaceful but alive with the quiet hum of activity. She could hear the distant sounds of laughter and conversation, the soft rustling of leaves, and the occasional creak of wood shifting beneath the weight of the residents.
When they reached the heart of the village, Korran finally set her down on a low platform, helping her regain her balance as they approached a large, open space. A tall figure stood at the edge of the platform, watching them approach with a piercing gaze.
It was Korran's older brother—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark eyes that seemed to see through to Savannah's very soul. He looked every bit the chief's son, his presence commanding respect without a word.
Korran stiffened slightly at the sight of his brother, and Savannah could sense an underlying tension in the air. Without a word, Korran nodded toward him, and his brother turned to face them.
"Who is this?" the older man asked, his voice deep and full of authority.
Korran hesitated, glancing down at Savannah before looking back at his brother. "Veylam, she's a lone leopard female," he said, his voice cautious. "I found her... in the forest unconscious and alone."
The older man's gaze flicked over Savannah's face, his eyes narrowing slightly. "A lone female? Out here by herself?" His tone was skeptical, but then his eyes softened just a fraction. "And she's... alone?"
"Yes, Veylan" Korran replied, his voice tight. "She doesn't remember anything. She was disoriented when I found her."
The older man frowned. "She must be taken to the shaman. If she's truly from another tribe... as you say, she needs to be seen to. We don't know who she is or what trouble she might bring."
Korran's brother raised a hand to his forehead and gave Korran a knowing, if somewhat exasperated, look. He gave his brother a hard swat to the back of the head. "You should have brought her to the shaman first and quickly, you little fool of a cub. We don't know what's happened to her, and you're treating her like some lost kitten. Take her to the shaman now. Before it's too late and something happens to her."
Korran's shoulders tensed at the reprimand, but he didn't argue. "I will," he said, bowing his head slightly, a mixture of respect and frustration crossing his face.
Savannah, still feeling disoriented, met Korran's eyes for a moment. "What's going on? Why do I need to see the shaman?"
Korran's voice softened, his eyes lingering on her with something between concern and uncertainty. "You need answers. The shaman can maybe give them to you but he can definitely help you heal.
Before Savannah could say anything else, Korran nodded to his brother and took her arm gently. "Come on," he said. "We're going to get some answers."
The village around them seemed to pulse with life, the towering trees stretching high above, the leaves rustling in the wind. Savannah's mind raced as she followed Korran to the shaman's hut, the faint echo of something more profound—something tied to her own future—lingering in the back of her mind.