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Martin's thoughts raced as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Images of a narrowly-avoided future of being jailed, or worse, hanged for the armed robberies he had committed across northern and central Sinoe flashed through his mind. Caught in this imagined stupor, the man nearly leaped out of his skin when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

“Ope, sorry, didn't mean to scare ya!" the faun woman apologized, her hand jerking back on reflex as Martin whirled around. Martin caught himself before he acted on his survival impulse, but his momentum for robbing the faun of her possessions had come to a screeching halt. He considered for a moment just walking away wordlessly but the faun spoke up before he could mentally finalize the decision. “So, um… my offer still stands, ya know. Do you wanna share a bite to eat? I heard there was a cute little place just that-a-way pretty close to the main road," she gestured in the direction toward Fordham, slightly east of the direction the road. “Would you wanna join me?"

Martin was astounded. She looked sincerely hopeful, despite having nearly been robbed at gunpoint, as if having her life at risk didn't even faze her. The whole interaction was so surreal that his agreement left his lips almost unbidden. “Sure, fine. Not like I had anything better to do."

The traveling faun gave a small hop of excitement. “Oh, how wonderful! Thank you for putting a little bit of trust in me. If what I've heard is true, this place really is a hidden gem with some great scenery and food!" Martin furrowed his brow in thought. He had never traveled this road before, but he hadn't heard anyone else mention an establishment that fit the faun's description. He decided to give her the benefit of the doubt, following behind her as she turned away from him and continued down the road. After a few paces, she turned her head, not breaking stride. “I forgot my manners! My name is Ke'eponuunamo, but I s'pose you can just call me Namo if that's easier. What's your name? Hard to make friends with someone if you don't know their name!"

“Martin," was the man's terse reply.

“Just Martin? Don't humans have two names, sorta like us fauns do? For me, my second name, well, first name actually, well actually it's complicated, but um… but mine's Ke'epo, but you can just call me Namo because my whole family is Ke'epo but I'm the only Namo, that I know of anyway!"

Martin didn't so much as acknowledge Namo's word vomit, preferring to just walk in silence and tune her out in favor of listening to the breeze through the maples that flanked the road.

Namo took the hint, at least, and didn't press him for his surname. “Well, that's fine. Ya don't have to share it if ya don't want to. It's nice to meet you, Martin!"

“Yeah, charmed or whatever."

After a few minutes of walking, Namo halted in her tracks. He followed her gaze along the right side of the road and noticed a break in the trees that opened up into a grassy field. In the far distance, probably at least a couple hundred meters, Martin could make out the outline of a fence, likely demarcating the edge of someone's ranch lands. However, instead of making her way toward the fence, she turned the opposite direction, to the left side of the road, and began waltzing into the forest. Martin squinted, perplexed, but followed nevertheless. Along this portion of the edge of road there was a gentle uphill slope, which the pair followed east instead of continuing south along the road.

The pair dodged bushes, exposed roots, and the occasional fallen log, and as they made their way upslope, Namo began singing a jaunty tune in time with her hoofsteps. The lyrics stemmed from what he suspected was the same language she was singing in before, but in this tune the mood was particularly jovial, almost exuberant. Namo's ability to stay mostly on-key, save for brief moments when she exerted herself while climbing, was impressive; Martin didn't consider himself much of a singer, but he had a hard time staying on-key on flat ground while standing still, let alone while climbing a hill.

The thief found that he began to match his own footsteps to the rhythm of her vocal melody, even if he didn't understand why. He idly wondered if that technically made the song a march, even if it didn't sound like any march he had heard performed previously. Still, there was no denying the effect that it had, and he found himself walking faster than he would have under normal circumstances. The fact that Namo had chosen to forgo traveling along a path of any kind to get to this supposed establishment was a bit unexpected to Martin, but he supposed there was nothing to be done about it save for continuing to follow her. Maybe it was a faun thing to travel through the woods instead of using roads.

It only took a few minutes before they reached their destination, and Namo interrupted her own singing with a jolly “I think we've made it!" As she crested the hill. It took a few steps for Martin to catch up to her, but what he found was even more head-scratching.

“I thought you said there was a place where we could get food up here, like a tavern or something. I don't see anything of the sort. Just looks like a little pond." Martin admitted that calling it “just" a little pond was a bit unfair. Before them stretched an unexpected and lush riparian area surrounding the clear, pebble-bottomed pond, with overhanging, large-leafed trees he didn't recognize. Some of these trees had a red tinge to the edge of their leaves, giving the aggregate effect of a shaded, cozy hilltop oasis. Judging by the sound of trickling of water coming from the southeast, the rogue surmised that this pond was fed by spring or by runoff from another hill nearby. Martin stepped through the sedges and rushes that surrounded the body of water and, peering into it, sighted insects both on and beneath the surface of the pond, as well as fish no bigger than his index finger darting from one meal to the next. He swatted something that landed on his arm, coming to the realization that the insects were also above the surface of the water. An occasional leaf floated across the surface of the pond like rafts for the smallest of woodland creatures, and clusters of duckweed in the pond's center provided refuge for aquatic animals living beneath the surface.

“A tavern? No, nothing like that." Namo trudged through the sedges and stamped down an area to unshoulder her pack. “Sorry if I gave ya that impression! Just a nice little area to grab something to eat." Martin followed the trail she cleared through the undergrowth until he was within arm's reach of her pack. Meanwhile, Namo had continued further into a small grove, likely an area where the soil drainage was too high to support the reedier plants that surrounded much of the rest of the pond. With her back turned, Martin noted that he could easily steal Namo's bag and make a break for it. He considered the option for a moment, but something stayed his hand. Instead, he unbuttoned the top pocket of the bag and placed the small pouch full of mysterious food paste he was given by Namo back in her bag, not feeling adventurous enough to peer inside the pouch she had given him.

“Alright, time to eat! I'm starving," Namo said, her back still turned. She had pulled down a leaf-laden branch of the wide-leafed tree he noticed earlier, one with particularly reddish leaves. He watched her inspect each dinner-plate sized leaf, one by one, and then plucked them until she had four leaves that satisfied whatever criteria she had established. Then, she folded one of the leaves into a neat wafer, about the size and shape of a deck of playing cards, and shoved the whole thing in her mouth with practiced ease.

Martin watched as Namo contentedly munched on the leaf “wrap", equal parts aghast at and bemused by her behavior. She opened her eyes after a few seconds of blissful chewing and noticed him staring. “What?" she attempted to say, mouth still full. “Is something wrong?" A half-chewed, saliva-soaked piece of leaf threatened to eject from her mouth as she spoke, but she covered her mouth at the last moment.

The man couldn't help but laugh at her uncouth display. “Are you for real right now?"

A pause while Namo chewed and swallowed a portion of the giant leaf wrap. “What does that mean?"

“Like, why are you eating leaves?" Martin sat down next to Namo's bag.

“I don't understand. Everyone knows they're good for you and these looked particularly tasty." Another pause as she swallowed the remaining bolus. “I mean, just look at how red these are. The red means it's good for your eyes!" She began folding up another leaf and walked back toward where Martin sat. “Do you want either of these?" She held up the other two once she had folded her next bite.

“Are you delusional?"

“You keep using phrases I don't know what they mean. I'm just hungry and thought you might be too. Do you not like the taste of nataan'snanbo? Oh! Are you allergic, maybe?" She shoved the next leaf cartridge into her mouth as she sat down in front of Martin.

For a moment, Martin just watched her face as she ate. Her large eyes were slightly wider-set on her head and her nose and mouth were also a bit broader than a human's, but other than that, her almost feline snout, complete with a pinkish rhinarium, and the thin coat of pale tawny fur that covered most of her face, she looked very human-like, complete with some faint freckles on the fair skin he could see beneath her fur. He didn't care to admit but could not deny that he found her appearance a bit captivating, and wondered to what extent other fauns' features resembled hers. Her behavior, on the other hand… her loud chewing brought him back to reality. “So why did you make me follow you here if you're just going to stuff your face full of tree leaves?"

For the first time since the two had met, Namo furrowed her brow, displeased. “Listen, mister… um, mister I-forgot-what-your-name-was. I didn't make ya do nothin' and ya don't need to be rude. I just could tell you were down on your luck and I wanted to help, see if a full stomach would help ya on your journey. Don't get testy with me 'cause ya don't like the taste of nataan'snanbo!"

Martin gave a small sigh. “First of all, my name's Martin. Second of all, maybe you just weren't, but as far as I know, humans generally don't eat raw leaves straight off the tree." The man corrected himself. “Except for, like, certain plants that go in salads and stuff."

“Oh." A pause for more chewing while she contemplated the ramifications of humans not eating tree leaves. “Why not?"

“I don't know, it can make you sick or something. I never really thought about it that hard."

“Well I don't get sick from eating them. That would be awful!"

“Right, which is why I said humans don't eat raw leaves."

“Oh," she repeated, swallowing the last of the second leaf. “Well, you can probably still have the batobii I gave you earlier. No leaves in that! Did you eat it already?"

He assumed she was referring to the pouch of goo she handed him back on the road. “No offense, but I'd rather not take my chances." He reached out into his own pack and pulled out the canned meat he appropriated from his last mark, along with a tin fork. He pulled the tab and Namo peered over in wonder. “Wow, what's that?"

Martin scooped out a portion and bit into it. Very salty. The salt content was so high it almost made his lips pucker. “Pork, I'm guessing."

“That's pig meat, right? I didn't know you could eat it out of a can!"

“It's pretty ingenious, I suppose. Makes it easy to travel with." Martin swallowed and had another bite. “Okay, Namo, level with me: why are you being all buddy-buddy?"

The faun had gotten started on her third leaf. “I try to be nice to all sorts of people. Even if those people are scary and want to take things without asking! And especially if those people look desperate." She gave Martin a pointed glance.

The man scoffed. “What are you implying? I'm not desperate." Namo responded with a raised eyebrow that said more than any counterargument could. “Moving on. You didn't really answer my question. You went out of your way, including lying to a lawman and harboring a fugitive. Forgive me for asking, but what are you hiding?"

Namo shrugged “I'm not hidin' nothin'. I probably won't ever see that deputy person again. I'm sure it'll be fine."

“Don't bullshit me, Namo." He drained the brine from his half-eaten can of meat onto the grass and unceremoniously shoved it into his pack. “Are you plotting something?" He wiped the fork on his pant-leg and stowed it as well.

“Maybe I just wanted a person to talk to and had a good feelin' about you. I'm no good at schemes, or plots, or what have you. I've been a bit lonely on the road and I figure it'd be nice just having another soul to share the journey with. That's it, the whole story, promise. I was gonna ask if you were headin' to Fordham because that's where I'm goin' too. I s'pose I'll understand if you'd rather travel by yourself, though."

Martin sighed. Maybe he was desperate, he finally admitted to himself. But if he was, then so was she, if she was willing to travel alongside Sinoe's most incompetent highwayman. “Yeah, okay, fine. You've been nice enough and I suppose it wouldn't be the worst thing to travel together." He almost wanted to take back the half-compliment, as if doing so would somehow save face.

Namo's demeanor immediately perked up. “Oh, how wonderful! That makes me so happy, um…" She took a long moment to think. “M-Martin, right? We're gonna be good buddies by the time we get to Fordham, Martin, I just know it."

Martin voiced his thoughts from a moment ago. “At the risk of beating a dead horse, of all people, why travel with me, a criminal and someone who tried to rob you? Am I, like, the first person you've seen since you started traveling?"

Namo was working on her last leaf now. “Nope, certainly not. But most of the people I did see before you were either ridin' their horses or otherwise traveled in large groups and it was a little bit intimidating. In fact, I only saw one other person traveling on foot besides you, and sorry to say, but she frightened me a lot more than you did."

Her comment, innocuous as it was, nevertheless stung a bit. Am I really that non-threatening? “What was so intimidating about her?"

“Well, she looked like any other human to me, I s'pose. A bit taller than me, dark hair, wore normal human clothes and stuff. She looked really strong, and her skin was a bit darker than yours. But what I thought was real different was she had this really fancy lookin' knife at her hip, don'tcha know? It was like… the color of my hair, but shiny." She pulled a lock from her bun to emphasize her point. “She noticed me starin' at it and waved to me, which, I thought, 'oh she must be pretty friendly'. But then, as she passed me on the road, she said something like 'watch out for yourself.' Now I know sometimes humans say things they don't mean and I have a hard time understanding when they do it in English. But it was the way she said that to me that made me feel all icky inside," Namo said, curling her fists in a display of slight disgust. “She made it sound like she wouldn't hesitate to hurt me if she needed to. It sounds crazy but… I decided I'd just keep walking and hope I never had to see her again." Namo gave a little shiver, as if to illustrate the discomfort of the interaction.

Martin was about to comment on the logical leap, but another phrase caught his ear. “Wait, hold on. You said the knife was the color of your hair? Are you sure it wasn't just the light? Not like… not like this?" He pulled out his own pocketknife and flipped open one of the steel blades.

Namo shook her head confidently. “Absolutely not. There's no mistaking what it was. It was beautiful, but also just made me feel… um, shoot. What's the word… like when you know something bad is gonna happen?"

Martin stowed the knife and took his best guess. “…dread? Nervous?"

“Yes, dread! Thank you. It made me feel dread."

Dread. Martin understood the feeling. He had felt it too, admittedly in that very moment.

“Which direction was she headed?"

“I don't know for sure, but she passed me a day or so ago. I was just getting started traveling from U'snuk-Pinuntuu for the day, but for all I know she could be headed toward Fordham."

Martin considered Namo's words, staring out over the pond as a leaf descended onto the pond's surface from a branch above. Tall, muscular, tan complexion, with a silver dagger. Visions of the past rushed back to him: his hands, bloody; his friend, dead on the ground before him, throat slashed. The coals of rage burned in his chest, reignited after two years of wandering, of being on the run. A name danced on his tongue, threatening to escape.

Fadina.