Enorm-ment^ just keeps going. Instead of letting a group fission when it got bigger than their territory, humans just kept stacking dens on one another. Paths had to take to the sky and tunnel into the earth. Maybe we should’ve left the direct-path sooner. But we had been making consistent progress North^. Not many detours in settlements. Wrecked and reclaimed human settlements have become uninteresting. We’ve gleaned all we can from leftover dens. The shells are just testament to humans changing everything Soil and World (or their equivalent) made. I’d stopped naming settlements. They’re all Bare-ment over and over. Quickest progress is always on direct-paths’ straight compacted stone chunks. I’m sure once something rested on them at regular intervals. Like the occasional remaining freakishly precisely-worked wood chunks. Whatever they were for, the roller-cache travels well on the stone ridges. And growth at the ridge-edge keeps Not-Prey walking. And there are frequent tunnels to hide from floaters. Though we rarely hear floaters now. Maybe Enorm-ment is overwhelming to floaters too. Or dangerous. Or maybe we’ve evaded them!

We could smell the dearth of plant life a day before we reached the first structures. The natural reclamation of Enorm-ment is negligible. Some greenery breaks through. But nothing substantial. Travelling with a voracious herbivore makes me more attentive to patches of wild. Dogs can cope without frequent provision, Not-Prey cannot. I can smell a concentration of trees not too far away, but it’s impossible to traverse Enorm-ment. We’re wandering aimlessly. The den-husks are too large to gather direction. It’s blisteringly hot. Black-paths are too hot to walk on. The ledges that run parallel only marginally better. There’s little cover except tunnels and innumerable high-paths. Animals lived here in great numbers once. There are ancient crumbs of scent everywhere. Recent trails too. So, there must be some wild somewhere.

Vicious’s ears shoot alert. He takes us under the cover of a leaning wall. We freeze. A pair of bright green birds with black beaks fly over. They must have wild to survive. We haven’t found anything living since entering Enorm-ment. We follow. Vicious tracks while I guide^ Pack on his tail. I strain to hear wingbeats. They let out a cackle. Our pursuit is easier. If we could just follow them! The tangled mess of paths and lack of orientation don’t help.

( Wild this way. ) Late First Eyes Runt^ thinks with such firmness and clarity we don’t bother to corroborate with our own senses. She communicates so rarely, with such difficulty and only when she is certain. We cross a high-path. Another path leading diagonally Rise North. Wait. I can smell it. Lush, verdant wild. The others can smell it too. Even Not-Prey begins to run.

Finally, we’re nearly there. I can smell what we can enjoy if we can get to it. It has nearly taken a degree^, but we’re nearly there. It must be a human-cultivated wild. There’s the tell-tale off-key^ smell of plants not meant to live this close together. This amongst cycles of natural growth and decay. Not-Prey is chewing (what?!) in anticipation.

( Here, at last. We can get in here. Even the bovine! ) Vicious’s relief pools in my stomach. Not-Prey starts to munch. I smell all the animals we haven’t been sure exist until now. Time to provision. We leave All-Spot and Shouty with Not-Prey. The rest of us travel a safe distance away.

We can stop. This wild is larger than it first appeared. Natural prey-paths guided us off black-paths into dense growth. We found rodents^ ranging in size and flavour. There are a wide range of uncatchable birds. We’re all provisioned with a small cache. In this oasis in the relentless monotony of twisting paths surrounded by enormous nonsensical structures (without portal covers I can open), we can actually stop. And make whatever kind of plan we can manage.

“So, what do we know?”

“There’s a big-saltwater. The direct-paths have become complicated. But, there are many tunnels. Maybe there’s a way out that doesn’t involve so much human-made confusion. There’re more floaters. But they’re staying over there-ish.” He gestures to Rise. He takes a breath to continue. A floater whines towards us from Rise with a steady, determined pace. Like they heard. They’re not searching. They know where they’re going and for what. Maybe their prey.

( Want to sniff what they’re so eager to get to? ) Vicious seems almost playful having found some wild and hunted at last. I chit Pack. They’ll have plenty to nose about and they shouldn’t be casually observed under this tree-cover even if it’s not a full canopy. Not-Prey won’t be moving for a while anyway. She’s back chewing. It’s perpetual when she can reach plants.

( Late First Eyes Runt, keep Pack safe. We will be back in a degree. )

( I keep sniff.^ ) I feel a flood of warmth every time she uses her new communication skills. There’s no danger but even if there was, I think she would be a good guider to Pack while we are gone.

We follow by sound sticking to the treeline, bellies down and fast. The tone of the hum changes. They’re floating not travelling. We continue to close in. What’s this? Metal saplings block our way. Another human method to trap wild. We cannot push through it. We turn Rise along this regular row of impenetrable black growths. Never wide enough to sneak between.

( There’s a gap! ) We run to it. Human mud-chunk structures, bursting with cacophonous plants.

( Thick cover. We can catch them. ) There’s another approaching. Vicious finds a black-path under the growth and we follow it round a bend. There’s a large patch of controlled lava, very little cover. Another floater swoops past. Perilously close. There’s a tunnel to Set. We duck inside. It’s a very short tunnel. We get to the middle, hidden from both sides. The floater whines on. I glance at the walls lit from sunlight both sides. Those intricate shapes can’t be the product of digging. These intentional shapes convey information. Couldn’t be to convey emotion given the cold, smooth, non-porous, scentless surface.

( What’s the point of staring? You might be a “human expert”, but this is meaningless nonsense. ) I hadn’t realised I was holding him up. Well, he can wait.

( The only reason I am a human expert is because I stop and investigate human artefacts when I find them. ) The patterns are colourful with splashes of grey, black, green and blue. It seems to be an overall pattern that spreads the length of the tunnel. How like humans. They need to mess with things. Can’t just dig a tunnel, must line it with patterns and things that prevent it from collapsing and returning to Soil. I pay attention to Vicious. He is getting slightly annoyed but not enough to do anything. Perfect. ( Let’s go observe a floater then. There’s no shortage so remain alert. ) One swoops over the North end of the tunnel. We exit to South.

The slope up is exposed but the floater is further ahead and we’re hidden by a structure. We creep round. There’s a floater hovering over a wall. Nothing smells particularly different about this place. We strain to get any information to explain this unknown floater behaviour. It moves further away. We each try to scope a path. Another floater comes over. Hovers in the same place. We remain hidden. Again, it’s leaving after a half-littersworth^ of cents^. There’s no proximal whine of another.

( Time to find out what they’re interested in. ) I approach the wall, about the height of a human (if my Heat-mate was a good example of humans). I put my forepaws onto it. There is a human-made drop-off to a flat area. There’s a smell like a long-abandoned settlement on World. I’m not sure what it is. Vicious grabs my mane and drags me into a set of platforms going into the human-made cliff. A floater comes over and hovers where the others did. There’s a tiny hum. A change in light reflected on the floater. They leave as the others did.

( I know you like to observe human things but since you can’t hear at all it seems, do you want to be a little more focused on our surroundings? )

( Fine, I’m sorry. Thanks. ) We go down the platforms. There are some portals without covers. We enter the kind of chamber that has a Wilderness-cache in it. It doesn’t. It has a damp clammy smell, like it is never actually dry. That’s what comes from digging then lining your den with non-porous materials. There’s another portal. And another. We get down to where the floaters observe. A densely grown patch with a small clearing in the middle. Huh. We shunt round seeking anything in the clearing a floater would be interested in. There’s a human artefact, like an enormous, curved sharp-leaf. The sharp-leaf smells of broken plants. Another floater comes. As it hovers above something comes alive. There’s a creepily familiar sound. Like a creche-pack. I smell Vicious’s fear-reek^ as mine spews out of me. What?! There’s… sort of scentless Soil-dogs.

( Run! )

( No! Still as possible. )

( What is it? )

( Damp-Pack? )

( Soil protect us! )

( How is Damp-Pack here? )

( If Damp-Pack has been made-prey by the floaters then let’s learn what they do so we don’t have to join them. ) It is the pack-communication of a small, frightened pack. There is no organic smell from the dogs. They’re not really here. Like the human-mirages in Monu-ment. They are like what I thought Set was when I was a pup. The dogs chirrup and run towards me. I flinch and cower. Oh right, they’re not really smelling me. Or are they? Vicious is focused beyond me, smelling horrified. I turn. There’s a human. A human-mirage, with no scent. They’re just as not here as those Soil-dogs. The human-mirage throws some similarly scentless provision-mirage to Soil-dog-mirages. They start to tear it apart. Then they’re all gone.

( We must leave as quickly as we can, Late First Eyes Runt. ) I send to her as soon as I’m close enough to manage that with no excess emotion. She kis Pack (Not-Prey hasn’t learnt to respond to commands yet but Shouty always brings her along). I hitch myself into the roller-cache. I barely feel the weight. We travel away from the place where floaters gloat at dogs made-runt.

( Is that the first step of making ever-pups? What they did back there? ) Vicious is slipping out of control. He tends not to have episodes so much now, more periods of extended withdrawal where his thoughts are disordered and confusing if he shares them. Right now, is not the time for that.

( Possibly. Let’s get into the tunnels before we start asking questions. ) We sneak through the wild, away from mirages of dogs and humans feeding each other scentless provision. Bellies down. World curse this noisy roller-cache! The trees stop abruptly at a black-path. There’s not enough cover. I dunno if we’re going the right way. But there have been tunnels everywhere so we must find one eventually.

Late First Eyes Runt is guiding the ever-pups as best she can. Shouty’s having trouble getting Not-Prey to cross the wide black-path. She’s freaked out by our behaviour and reluctant to leave the glut of provision after a few days of diminished supplies. We need to get underground. I need to get Pack moving. I unhitch the roller-cache and push it out of sight. I run to a recently fallen branch, covered in strong, fresh leaves. I wave it in front of Not-Prey. She placidly starts to chew. I shift a pawswidth. Vicious encourages All-Spot to cross the path with him. A pawswidth. Pointy and Bouncy trot to join them. Pawswidth. Spotless and Late First Eyes Runt come across, her standing sniff over him as he makes his hobbly way. Pawswidth. I’m covered from above. This can take as long as it needs to. A floater whizzes overhead. No doubt to experience the spectacle of Soil-dogs provisioned by an outpack. It doesn’t stop or hover. Pawswidth.

( Whatever’s ahead, is deep. )

( So, safe. ) There’s a row of black metal twigs here. Within there’s a series of platforms going down. This must be the entrance to some kind of deep-den. We can shelter in there to plan. Not-Prey won’t come with us. She’s stripped enough of the branch for it not to be sufficient motivation anymore.

( Late First Eyes Runt, you stay with Not-Prey and Shouty in that little-wild. Vicious, take the rest of Pack down, have a sniff around. I’ll retrieve the roller-cache and get some motivation for Not-Prey. )

Late First Eyes Runt, Shouty, Not-Prey, the roller-cache and I are cautiously attempting to descend the platforms. Not-Prey doesn’t like it. The roller-cache even less. There are not too many platforms. Thank Soil. I hear Not-Prey chewing and snorting over the rattling, jerking and bouncing of the roller-cache.

“Vicious?” I call with voice and mind. Late First Eyes Runt echoes me in both. They were here, but they’ve gone on from this chamber. I steer the others along the scent-path. It leads to a narrower set of platforms. Nothing for it. I coax Not-Prey with the branch. She plants her hooves firmly on the first platform. She will not be moved. I don’t want to get too loud. A growl starts to build in my throat. The prey part of her stomach responds. Late First Eyes Runt pushes me back. She gently touches and grooms Not-Prey. She calms her. I try to let it calm me. The smell of damp-cold gets stronger as her fear-reek decreases. Not calming. Late First Eyes Runt grabs one of the crunchy fruits I collected from the wild when I collected the roller-cache. They’re Not-Prey’s favourite. She descends a few platforms. Not-Prey’s hooves shift and she tries to step down a platform. I wish my hearing was what it once was. I lose track of what they’re doing except slowly descending. I hear Not-Prey getting a satisfying bite. And another. Shouty is following. In the dark she walks with her flank touching Not-Prey so I assume that’s what is happening. I guess I’ll follow. You’re First Eyes after all.

The platforms are too close together for an easy descent. It’s torturous with the roller-cache. Each platform shakes and wrenches my body. It rattles in my nubs so I can’t hear the progress ahead. I set my jaw as best I can to protect them from the jarring. If Vicious went this way with Pack, he must’ve thought it was worth it for us to follow. Unless he had an episode and has made them all runt or prey. I would smell that. The cold, dirty smell of human tunnels is magnified the further we descend.

( Thank Soil ye are here, these pups are driving me mad. What took ye so long? ) His thought comes from below. I want to scream at him but that would take more energy than I currently have.

( I had to find fruit for Not-Prey, persuade her to go into the dark and then Late First Eyes Runt had to get her down here while I struggled with the roller-cache. I had my own challenges. ) He’s quiet in response. The ever-pups charge up towards us, comfortable with the platforms and no doubt hungry despite provision a matter of degrees ago. Not Prey shies again and is panicked. The platform tunnel fills with the smell of a stomach given too much rich provision. I stop. Earthy^ silence falls.

“Did she shit^?” His voice echoes on the hard walls.

“What do you think?” Why can’t he just help for a few cents? You made him runt. “Any chance these platforms end at some point?”

“Yes, I’m on a big platform. There‘s one more but it is to access the tunnel and seems too big for us. I didn’t push Spotless in, but was tempted.” Late First Eyes Runt appears in my mind,

( Not kind Vicious. )

( No, Vicious is not being kind. )

( Why? )

( Because Quick broke him. He cannot always be kind now. )

( How did Quick break him? )

( By mistake. An accident. )

( That’s sad. ) She passes me and grabs a fruit. I’ll let them get past the sour shit and to the ground before I follow. They reach the big platform as promised and go out of sight. I drag the roller-cache, trying to avoid the terrible shit. Failing. Of course. It’s finally running smoothly. I shrug out of the hitch. There’s a pair of smears loudly pronounced to my nose. But we’re here. Late First Eyes Runt pulls a branch out of the roller-cache. I hear her settling Not-Prey down further away. The others are clamouring for provision. Not until tomorrow. I fumble the hides from the roller-cache to make a warm den on the hard, smooth, chilly ground.

The whole space is illuminated in harsh unnatural light. Maybe I can pry my eyes slightly open. Decorative linings. A drop from the edge of this platform. A direct-path. The drop is smaller than I thought. We can get down that. Whether Not-Prey can will be smelled when we’ve rested. I turn to Rise? Set? North? I’ve no idea this deep into the ground. Intriguing. That’s a much bigger roller-cache. Not-Prey could drag that with ease. It’s big enough any of Pack could travel in it along with all our cache. I trot over and give it an experimental shove. It moves as easily and is less top-heavy than the one we already have. Well, that might come in useful.

Dark returns just as surprisingly as it left.