Palluck sent a glance as his brother left, turning his full attention back toward his unborn sister. "So... last summer we went on this journey, and came in sight of this large thing of water called a lake. There were other creatures swimming and playing in it, and it looked so much fun, but Father said to stay away. He said that Namicans couldn't swim very well, and that the creatures there were nice, but too rough for us. I'm not sure why we stopped our journey there and came back, but the walk was pretty fun. I didn't know Mother could whistle like that."

His sister stretched a paw toward the membrane as if reaching for him. In mild surprise, Palluck extended his own paw, touching hers.

"I've been watching you for a few weeks now, and I'm still not sure what kind of Namican you'll be. You seem to listen well, better than Maldore. Don't get me wrong, he's a nice older brother, but can be a bit rough around the edges at times. Hello..."

Palluck suddenly felt wetness on his extended paw. Pulling back, he saw that his sister had made a slight cut in the membrane with her tiny claw, still scratching. The young Namican suddenly felt his heart skip a beat, and lodge in his throat. He tried to stammer, but his tongue twisted.

His sister was coming!

Palluck could only stare in fascination as his sister kicked both footpaws, claws lashing out. Several more slashes penetrated the outer membrane, fluid trickling out exponentially. She extended all limbs in every direction, the thin fissures widening in response.

Maldore squinted. At first he though his eyes were seeing the figure because he wanted to see something, but he quickly realized that this one moved as if injured. The Namican started down the hill slowly at first, picking in the pace up to a run as he realized the figure coming toward him through the mists was stumbling heavily. He called out.

"You okay? I'm coming!"

The figure was a male Namican a few seasons older than him. Some blood trickled down one side of his head, his eyes unfocused. Every time he fell down to one knee, he just got back up, pushing forward. Maldore could here him mumbling unintelligible statements, the only clear word, "Gole."

"I'm here, what's wrong?"

The strange Namican finally stopped, peering closely at Maldore. After a long moment, he stumbled once more, unable to go another step.

"Help... Gole."

"What is Go-ley?"

The Namican tapped his paw against Maldore's chest. "You. Help. Head hurts."

Maldore gave a quick nod, motioning. "The den's this way. I got you, just one step at a time. Not too fast!"

The young Namican wasn't sure later how to describe the sensation, but it quickly overpowered him as he aided the injured figure into the den, only to see Palluck and a very sopping wet newborn female staring right at him.