#soona

The fire crackled, casting dancing shadows on the faces gathered around it. Noa sat near his mother, absently chewing on a piece of roasted fish while his eyes followed her. She sat cross-legged, laughter shining in her eyes as she spoke to the young ones, who were transfixed by her words, her hands weaving stories of places they had never seen, of humans and old legends, of a world before their own.  Even the eagles seemed to like her, especially Eagle sun, who would always bring her little trinkets or fishes if she joined them on hunts.

She belonged here.

Noa had not expected that. 

The first time he had seen her, bloodied and weak, he had only thought of survival, of Raka’s words, of Caesar's... Of what she could mean for them—for him. Humans were dangerous, unpredictable, and only thought about themselves. But she… she was something else. She had woven herself into their lives like the roots of an ancient tree, steady and firm, until it was impossible to imagine the village without her presence.

His mother, Dar, adored her. The young apes clung to her words. Soona and especially Anaya with his endless teasing, had warmed to her in ways that made Noa’s chest tighten.

He watched now as Anaya leaned over, pressing a piece of ripe fruit into her hand with a soft hoot and  an easy grin. She smiled, thanked him softly, and took a bite.

Noa felt his fingers clench around his own food. A bitter taste rose in his throat, though he had not swallowed anything bitter.

The firelight suddenly seemed too bright, the voices too loud, and the air too thick. He had never been one to question his emotions, but this… this unfamiliar tightening in his chest, the heat curling in his belly—it unsettled him.

He pushed away his half-eaten meal and rose to his feet, ignoring the questioning glance from Dar. He needed air, needed space, needed—

You.

He climbed to the eagles’ tower, hoping it would calm the raging storm in his mind and that the sickening coil would disappear. Your smile flashed through his mind, eyes bright with the fire’s flames and softly looking at the clan’s young ones.

Would she look at him like that too? Would she look at him with love?

Could she only look at him?

Noa’s conscience  (that sounded a lot like Soona’s voice) reprimanded him for feeling jealous of the children of the clan, of any ape that interacted with her. But a more animalistic part of him roared that you were meant for him and was begging him to go and show you that he was the best choice as a mate. Show his prowess as master of the birds, as leader of the eagle clan, fight the other apes and lay claim on you.

He felt his restraint waning.

He could not control himself anymore, he needed to see her– see you.

The night was well in when he climbed down the eagles tower, the stars and dim fire the only light illuminating Noa’s green gaze, more serious than ever.  He found her outside her hut, the soft glow of the fire casting long shadows. She turned when she heard him approach, her gaze warm although surprised.

“Noa?”

He stopped a few paces away, uncertain. The jealousy still burned, hot and undeniable, and yet, beneath it, something deeper stirred. Something he had been afraid to name.

“You… you are close with Anaya,” he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue.

You blinked and tilted your head, studying him. “I suppose I am. He’s my friend. Like you.”

Noa’s hands curled at his sides. “Not like me– Not like Noa.”

Silence stretched between the two of you, thick as early winter’s mist. Taking a careful step forward, you murmured, “Then tell me,” voice soft and tinted with something he couldn’t quite decipher. “How are you different?”

His heart pounded loud, the sound of his blood pounding in his ears. He had fought Proximus Caesar and won, had faced dangers beyond count but this—this was something else entirely. This was losing control in a way that frightened him. He felt like a young ape again, clumsy, afraid...

“I don’t like seeing you with him,” he admitted in a low voice. “I don’t like the way he looks at you. The way you smile at him–.” He exhaled sharply, frustrated at his own lack of words. “I don’t like that I care.”

Your expression shifted, something unreadable flickering across your features. Then, to his surprise, you smiled, understanding shining in your eyes. Gently reaching out for him, hesitating only a moment before resting your palm against the scar on his chest. His skin burned hot where your skin touched his.

“Noa,” you whispered, voice steady as the river’s flow and warm like the sun’s rays in the morning. “You don’t have to be afraid of what you feel.”

He swallowed hard, his green eyes looking for yours. “And what if I am?”

Stepping even closer, until there was no space left between you, until he could hear the soft hitch of your breath. “Then let me show you.”

Softly your hands wrapped around his neck, holding his head gently as your foreheads touched shyly.

Closing your eyes, you felt Noa tense under your hands until his arms wrapped around you tightly, holding your head closer to his, with a need that surprised both of you.  A breath of your name as Noa's eyes fluttered closed.

Then, your lips softly kissed his. A brief, shy peck. Short but full of meaning.

A human kiss.

It was nothing like he expected—soft yet certain, delicate yet powerful. The world around you two faded, the firelight, the village, the elders, Anaya… Gone with the whispers of the wind, disappearing into the warmth of your lips against his. He responded instinctively yet clumsily, unfamiliar with the Echo customs. His arms wrapping around your waist, holding tight as if letting go would mean losing something vital.

When you finally pulled away, much to the ape’s chagrin, his eyes met yours, those beautiful eyes that looked up at him with quiet certainty and a deep loving glint. “You don’t have to be jealous, Noa,” your voice echoed in the darkness of the forest, resting your forehead against his again. “Because it’s you. It’s always been you.”

Noa closed his eyes, inhaling the truth of your words, and for the first time in a long time, he let himself believe.

A small, breathy laugh escaped you as you nudged his shoulder playfully. “You’re adorable when you’re brooding, you know that?”

His ears twitched, and you could swear he was blushing under his fur, warmth spreading across his face as he fixed you with a playful glare. “I don’t brood.”

Smirking at his cute behaviour, your fingers running through the rough fur on the nape of his neck. “You do. But I like it.”

Noa sighed, defeated but content, letting his forehead rest against you once more and pulling your bodies as close as physically possible. The tension he had carried all evening melted away with each caress of your fingers. 

“Stay with me,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Please”

Smiling, fingers curling around him, foreheads like hearts, finally united.

 “Always.”

She did not flinch, but her shoulder hardened beneath his palm, her eyes unblinking. She stared at the entrance to the structure as if it were a predator, waiting to strike the moment she looked away. He dismounted as silently as possible, eyes squinting through the rain to observe the splintered wood in front of him. It was not an old break, but it was older than a few sunsets.

To his surprise, Anaya joined him, motioning for Soona to stay next to their Echo. Soona did not look afraid, though her sling was ready and loaded in her hand. He and Anaya moved forward with careful steps, unable to avoid the creaking and groaning of the wet wood beneath their feet. Anaya’s teeth bared, the noise sounding louder in his ears against the quiet fall of rain. He attempted to scent the air, but could not smell anything other than the rain and the wet dirt. His focus landed on the damaged wood in front of him, unsurprised that Anaya continued confidently past him, into the dark structure.

It was not completely broken, only splintered along one side. There were metal pieces inside the wood he did not understand, but one piece seemed to be the cause of the break. It must have been the piece that kept it secure. His eyes trailed along the front and back, noticing the lack of dents or dirt on the wood. Other than the one side, it was unmarked. That could only mean one thing.

“Good…news.” Anaya said, returning from inside far quicker than he expected. “Not ape…smells like echos…many echos.”

That somehow did not reassure him. He turned to their Echo who seemed to be thinking the same thing. The news did not reassure her, her face scrunching as she questioned, “Humans? There are other humans here?”

“Not…anymore.” Anaya responded, “Smell is…old…herd has…moved on…left no trace…other than…smell and mess.”

Their Echo turned her head slightly, repeating the word, “Mess?”

“Wood,” Anaya nodded towards the frame, before gesturing back inside, “ashes from fire…structures destroyed…human things…scattered.”

He was curious to see what Anaya meant, but before he could step forward, Soona called, “If safe…let us…go in…before Echo…drowns.”

That’s when he remembered the condition of their Echo. She had been in pain for the past few hours, and though he had attempted to keep her dry, the rain had soaked through the blanket he had given her. Her hair was sticking to parts of her face, water droplets dripping from the tips. The longer he looked, the more he was able to notice the slight tremor in her form. Although, whether that was from cold or fear, he was unsure. She seemed uneasy, but swung a leg over and dismounted from his horse without any hesitation.

Soona grabbed the reins of her horse and Anaya’s, their Echo holding the reins of his horse as she attempted to follow Soona. She took a few steps, but he saw the buckle in her knee, the other knee threatening to follow suit as she tried to force herself forward. He moved quickly, gently catching her by the shoulder in order to help her movements.

He reached out to take the reins from her, but she clutched them closer to her chest. “I can do it, Noa.”

He huffed, trying to be patient with her, “You can…but Soona is…right…go inside with Anaya…help him…start fire…rest.”

She clutched the reins for another heartbeat, eyes darting with suspicion towards where Anaya stood. Then, with conviction that surprised him, she handed the reins over, carefully moving around him and towards their new shelter. He wanted to walk in with her, but he needed to make sure the horses were tended to first. She, of course, needed to get inside as soon as possible, where it was warm and dry. Safe. She needed to be safe.

“Noa,” Soona whispered, pulling him from his thoughts. He turned, grunting as he continued the process of corralling his horse. Soona raised her chin towards where Anaya and their Echo had just been, “Do you think…herd…or more echos…like her?”

A long breath escaped through his nose, and he pulled the final knot a little too tight, before replying, “For her sake…I hope…a herd.”

Soona let out a surprised hoot, lowering her voice further, “Would more like her…not be…better…a clan…of her own?”

He stopped mid-step, thoughts and feelings towards the idea of other echos overwhelming. ”It is complicated.”

Soona shuffled over to him then, frame tilting slightly as she inquired, “How?”

He knew the answer. Other echos- other humans, they could be dangerous. If they were anything like Mae, they had plans, goals…secrets. They could not be trusted, not with anything important. Certainly not with their Echo. She had just started to unjumble herself, making progress with his mother and the younglings. With Anaya and Soona, with him…

Friends. She said they were friends.

The idea of other humans showing up, offering her something his clan never could, something he never could…it made his insides burn. He did not like it. That natural likeness, of being the same, of belonging. That is enough for any species, not just humans. All he could think of was her leaving, and then being betrayed by her own kind. He would not be there, and he would be unable to find her. She would be alone. Again.

He wanted more for her. Better for her. He wanted a clan- a family. He hoped it was a herd, echos that were desperate to escape the rain just as they were now. Echos that wanted shelter, something he could understand. Echos that did not care about apes or their existence.

Then another thought, one that slept deep in the back of his mind for a long time. He decided to voice it now, “She left human clan once…not long after returning…taken by apes…for four seasons…then leaving before…a full moon cycle…had passed.”

“Why would…she do that?” Soona wondered, brows raising, “Was she…banished?”

He shook his head, “Left with…mother.”

Soona straightened her posture, eyes scanning the tree line in thought, as if it would have the answers. Eventually, she pursed her lips, smacking them once and shaking her head, “Does not…make sense.”

He nodded, “What if…echos like her…make her leave here?”

Soona bared one side of her teeth before tucking her lips back over her teeth, “Let them try…she is…no longer alone…will protect her.”

“I will…as well,” he agreed. “As long as…she wants me to.”

Soona huffed through her nose, “Hope…it was…a herd.”

“Noa!”

Anaya’s voice alerted both of them, conversation finished as they rushed towards the shelter. They met Anaya at the door, nearly tripping over him. Before either of them could speak, Anaya explained, “There is no wood.”

His irritation at Anaya’s flared for a moment, before he realized the true problem. “Can not…build fire.”

“Or cook food,” Soona added.

“Fine for ape,” Anaya added. “Not for…Echo…is cold and…wet.”

His gaze swept past Anaya, to their Echo. She was sitting on the edge of some structure, arms wrapped around herself as she fought her body’s natural urge to shake. It was summer, but with the rain and night falling, the temperature had dropped. Not unbearable for an ape, but for an Echo…they get cold so easily. She needed a fire.

As if sensing his gaze, their Echo looked up, locking eyes with him. He felt caught, as if he had been doing something he should not have. He could not look away now. He wanted to, but she would not allow him. Her body looked fragile, tired, but there was this light in her eyes, reflecting something that contradicted what he saw in her body.

He shouldered past Anaya, said ape trailing behind him along with Soona into the shelter. Their Echo stood, meeting him halfway as he asked, “What…have you…decided?”

A single shoulder quirked up, their Echo smiling, “I’ll be alright. There’s nothing you can really do. All the wood I had stored in here has been burned, along with some furniture. With the rain, any wood you collect outside will be wet, so it won’t burn. Anaya said you three should be fine, and we have enough fruit to eat until morning.”

“What about…you?” He asked, unable to shake the feeling of wrongness.

She let out a breath, “Luckily, the place I normally sleep upstairs is still intact. I’m going to grab some food and head up. If there’s a blanket I can borrow that’s dry, that would be a big help.”

Soona gestured outside, “Mine is dry…will get…from pack.”

“Thank you, Soona.” Their Echo said in a relieved tone, watching Soona dash to retrieve it. “Once she comes back, you’ll have the whole downstairs area to yourselves.”

Anaya looked up the stairs curiously, “When do we…come up…to sleep?”

Their Echo frowned, hesitating before explaining, “Humans are…solitary sleepers, actually. That’s why I’ll be upstairs. The room is small, you’ll have more space down here to sleep together.”

More unease curled in his stomach, but he decided not to argue with her. Thankfully, Anaya seemed to silently agree with him on this. Soona returned then, handing her blanket to their Echo, wondering, “Will you…be alright…alone?”

She nodded once, “Yes. Thank you all again. Good night everyone.”

Anaya’s hand fell on her shoulder, something that caused his own jaw to clench, as he bid, “Sleep…well…Echo.”

She turned then, steps careful on the old wood as she ascended. He opened his mouth, closed it once, before taking a step forward and offering, “We are…here…if you need…anything…just call us.”

A genuine smile graced her features before her eyes rolled playfully, “Of course, Noa. Rest well, I’ll see you in the morning.”

He watched her go up, her figure disappearing around a wall. His ears were attuned to her steps, until they were muffled by a creak and then a weird sounding click. Above his head, he heard the shuffle of her feet once more, and then there was silence. His lips pursed, knowing she was safe, but unsure if she was truly okay.

There was nothing that could be done about it, so he let it be. He turned, unprepared for Anaya and Soona’s intense gaze. They had been watching him. Anaya looked pleased, nudging Soona, who for her part, seemed to be finished in her study of him. She hummed playfully, snorting once before walking over to the open area and making herself comfortable on the fuzzy surface of the floor.

Anaya was quick to follow, avoiding eye contact as he hooted to himself. Their reaction…it confused him. He called out, “What?”

Soona nudged Anaya, who covered his mouth and curled closer to her on the floor, turning away from him. Over his shoulder, he replied, “Nothing.”

…

Long after the sun set and the rain finally stopped, he thought he would pull out his own fur. Soona slept quietly, her breathing steady a few spaces in front of him. Anaya, on the other hand, slept on a nearby structure, half upside down. His mouth was open, his breathing deep and loud, while his body would randomly toss and turn. He wished this was enough to distract him from his thoughts, but it was not.

He had trouble sleeping most nights, his mind wandering to the past and to the future. He also thought of his duties, tasks he would need to complete the next day. Tonight was different though. Usually, the breathing of his sunset siblings would be enough to soothe him, to calm him, to know everything was right with his world. Tonight though, it just made it too clear the one member he could not hear.

Their Echo had gone up so long ago, yet he continued to listen. Through Anaya’s talking and Soona’s harsh bites as she ate, he had listened. Yet, he could hear nothing. It was as if she had gone up the stairs and vanished. He was sure she was okay, but without knowing for sure…

He was unable to sleep.

He sensed dawn was still a ways off, the sky dark and filled with the sounds of summer insects. He much preferred their noise to Anaya’s. This compelled him to rise, feet as silent as possible against the old wood beneath him. He was able to slip outside without disturbing anyone.

Now that he was out, he was unsure what he wanted to do. He scanned the surrounding area, deciding to wander towards the horses. He checked their binds, their water, and stroked the muzzle of his own. Like him, he also seemed to be awake, tail flicking once before he whinied and dropped his head closer to his hand.

He chuffed to himself, eyes instinctively traveling upward towards the sky. He thought about how small everything seemed compared to the stars, compared to that strange light he saw so long ago. In that smallness, his world became that much bigger. There were things he knew now, things that meant he could never go back to how it was before. He was forever changed. Strangely, that thought made something inside of him sing.

He wanted that change, wanted to continue to learn. If the world was truly so much bigger, he wanted to learn about it all. Humans, at one point, knew it all. They were smart, wrote it down for future generations to inherit. It was sad to him, to think the ones who would inherit that knowledge would be apes.

Then again, why should the knowledge not go to the ones who could use it? Their Echo seemed to have no problem sharing it with them. Of course, he knew other humans did not think so highly of apes, remembering the words Mae had growled at Proximus.

It is not yours!

Had the circumstances been different, had Proximus not been a threat, would she have reacted the same? Mae herself had gone inside for a book, coming out with a weapon. There were strange objects he had found, things he did not understand, but could probably make sense of. What else had been in there? Had he walked past things that were too advanced? Things he would never understand unless shown?

Something in the distance caught his eye then, a new light. Or was it? It flickered in and out of his line of sight. Perhaps a bug? Were his eyes playing tricks? His hand reached up for the edge of the roof, testing his weight before swinging himself up. His footing slipped on a loose square piece, before he righted himself. The crash of sound below him caught his attention, before he locked it back on the line of trees in the distance.

There was light, but it was moving. That meant it was not natural, made by ape or… maybe by humans. He climbed higher, to the second story of the house. The brick chimney was sound enough to hold his weight as he crouched, straddling it. There was only one light, but due to the dense foliage, he could not see who was carrying it. Ape or human?

He scented the air, heart racing as he scrambled for the answer on the breeze. It was blowing the opposite direction. If he left now, saddled his horse and rode towards that light, would he be able to find out? And would he like the answer? The light hovered, before starting to part the foliage surrounding it. Now, it grew closer. He stood upright, ready to sound the alarm if they were humans, and slip away quietly if they were apes.

Closer…

Closer.

Then, a hiss, and a pained groan. The light was forgotten, his head turning towards the slightly open window below him. Was that their Echo? She sounded as if she were hurt. He looked up, back to where the light had been, only to find it gone. Completely vanished, as if it had never been there.

He curled his lip, a snort of annoyance leaving him before he returned his focus to where the sound of their Echo had come from. He swung around the side of the chimney, leaping onto the small ledge of a window. It was blurry, but he could see their Echo inside.

She was sitting up, swaying slightly in place on the bed. One hand rubbed her eyes, the other clutched her stomach. He tapped on the glass gently, trying to get her attention. Her head swiveled groggily, trying and failing to stand up as she called, “Noa?”

He hummed, “You are…alright?”

“Wha’re you doin outside?” She slurred, the same way Anaya did as a youngling when he was not fully awake.

It forced a smile from him as he admitted, “I could not…sleep.”

She grunted, clutching her stomach tighter as she hissed, “Yeah, join t’party.”

“Party?” He repeated, not understanding the term.

She rolled her eyes, letting out a small groan, “Too tired for this shh- are you comin in or what?”

He looked down at the small space between the ledge and the bottom of the window, before returning his gaze to her. “I…will not…fit.”

“Huh?” She mumbled, head rolling to the side. Understanding seemed to dawn on her as she let out a strange noise, flopping back down on her sleeping space and waving her hand up and down in his direction. “Jus take both hands, pull up, an come through.”

She seemed on the verge of falling back asleep, her normal self not fully there. This made him think, for a moment, it was better if he returned downstairs. She said humans were solitary sleepers, and he seemed to be disturbing her. That is, until she let out another hiss and called his name.

He froze, the way she said his name catching him off guard. It was delicate, like a newborn calling out for their parents when frightened. He was helpless against it. He did as she instructed before, the wood sliding upwards without much issue. Fascinating. He bent his head and shoulders forward, nearly tumbling inside. He was careful to return the window to the position it had been in before he disturbed it.

When he turned back, she was lying there, curled up with one hand holding the blanket around her body, and the other reaching out for him. He crouched on all fours, shuffling over to her side without any conscious thought of doing so. She was half looking at him, half fighting sleep, but once he was face to face with her enough to notice that, another realization overtook him.

“Where are…clothes?” He asked gently.

The hand that had been reaching for him, pointed over to something that looked like it had been a chair, “They’re wet, needed to dry ‘em.”

Her hand fell to her side, before she found her strength again and reached for him. Her fingers grazed his shoulder, trailing down his arm, until her fingers found his hand. She tugged it towards her, unfocused eyes studying his palm and fingers. He did not understand what she was doing, and the fact that she was bare beneath Soona’s blanket, unbothered that he was so close to her, very much bothered him.

“You…are…in pain?” It was the most he could think to say, as her own fingers started to graze markings on his palm and dance along the edges of his knuckles.

She hummed, “I’m cold an sore from horse, an the cramps keep wakin me up. Why’re you so warm?”

He hesitated, eyes taking in her form in front of him. He could not understand her. Her hair was no longer damp, she was tired, and she was in pain. Why did she cling to him? Why, in her most vulnerable state, did she seek out his hand for comfort? He was warm? Did that make her feel better? Would his presence make her better?

He slowly raised his other arm, fingers skimming over the edge of her cheek, before settling on her forehead. Her skin was cool to the touch, but not overly so. She did not shake or show signs of being cold. Perhaps he was wrong. He began to pull his hand away, only for her other hand to snap up and stop him halfway. She turned her head, positioning her cheek in his palm, his other hand pulled closer now to her body.

Unwillingly, he felt a low growl rumble in the back of his throat. He silenced it as quickly as he could, but definitely too late for her not to notice. Only…she did not seem to react negatively to it. Her eyes were closed, and they did not open. There was no tensing of her muscles or violent release of his hands in fear. Instead, she hummed in a very pleased way.

Without releasing his hands, she began to move, scooting further back on her nest. And to his surprise, she pulled him along with her. He felt the hair at his neck prickle, calling her name in warning several times, yet not finding the strength he knew he possessed to pull away from her. He found himself crouching on her nest when she finally stopped pulling. She still did not release his hands.

She did not speak, she looked as if she had fallen back asleep. He was unsure what to do. He forced a long breath in and out of his nose, head clearing enough for him to realize he should reclaim his hands. He should then leave immediately after.

His Echo had other ideas, fingers tightening around his, as she mumbled, “Stay. Jus for a little bit. You’re warm.”

He hesitated. Why? There was a reason, something in the back of his mind that told him he should. Echos…solitary sleepers…his Echo…fear of apes…naked…in pain… with him. The answer was there, but the longer her hands clutched his, the further from his grasp it seemed.

Sensing his hesitation, his Echo raised her head, eyes slanting open. “Please, Noa. I don’t wanna be alone like this.”

“You…” he began, trying to sort his thoughts into the right questions. “Are comfortable…with me…here…while you are…like…like partner?”

She pulled again on his hands, “Mhm. No bein I’m more comfortable with than you.”

This surprised him, as he unconsciously lowered himself down, matching her form on her nest. He must have taken more space than he realized when he did this, feeling his Echo move closer, head finding perch on his shoulder. He felt his body tighten, unsure if it was intentional, until she sighed, “Goodnight, Noa.”

He hummed, her closeness reminding him of how he used to cuddle up to his mother and father as a newborn. He had never felt warmer, or safer. If he doubted her words regarding how she felt with him, those fears were wiped away. What little energy remained in her body, keeping her awake ended. He felt her breathing deepen and more of her weight fall into his body. It was…nice.