“And you say it died anyway?” the lemur asked Poire. Chuckling, he scratched the back of his ear and watched with disbelief as piles of sand trickled down his fur.

Poire hugged her knees close to her chest. She watched the waves that calmly licked the shore. “We were eating breakfast together,” she mumbled, “and…Papa asked us if someone had entered his study. Of course, I said no. He tried again, telling us that a paper on his desk had been moved, but my answer was always the same. After a moment, he gave up and told us Jacques had passed away.”

“Jacques?” The lemur tilted his head. He grabbed a tiny nut he’d been keeping for a special occasion and began to smash it open against his claws. “Who in the world is that?”

“It…was his fish,” Poire said as she clasped her palms together. “You know,” she said, “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

The lemur feasted on his food. “Who cares if they died?” he asked her with a mouth much too full for talking. “Isn’t it already enough to know you were not caught?”

Poire paused. She hummed and looked to the moon. “The night is long here,” was her reply.

He nodded. “Is it not to your liking?”

“I don’t know,” Poire said. “Sometimes, I think I miss the sun. But then, when it is up, I find myself missing the moon.”

The lemur snorted. “Ha! Typical human. Your kin are never satisfied. No matter what it is you get your hands on, there must always be more. What greedy pigs you are.”

Poire gasped. She rose to her feet. “Don’t call us that!” she shouted, her fists by her sides. “You’re the one who’s eating like there’s no tomorrow as I tell you about the death of something dear to me.”

The lemur paused. “Is it so wrong to eat if I’m hungry? Would you rather I die for the death of your supposed loved one?” he asked her.

“Supposed? What does that mean?”

He sighed again and pointed to the mountains up ahead. “You’ll find out eventually, girl,” he said. “For now, you must wake up. A storm is brewing, and if you do not defend this world with your life, I’m afraid there might be nothing left upon your return.”