They walked for hours through the shifting light and shadows of the forest. Mico jumped from tree to tree above them. The branches were rarely far enough apart for him to genuinely glide. He had closed his wing-flute somehow and traveled in near-silence, obviously at home in this place.

All around them the trees whispered as if giving away breezy secrets. However, there was no wind to be felt below the canopy. The air was warm and dry and still, The landscape was the same in every direction. Trees, trees and more trees. All of them towering over Jack and Daiki. Uniformly pale gray, hairy trunks crowned with high branches and clumps of black needles.

Jack speculated about the nature of the trees as he walked. He decided that they had evolved black leaves to absorb more light. Jack vaguely knew there was a reason that plants on his world didn’t bother with the green part of the light spectrum for photosynthesis, but it hadn’t caught his attention in science class, and so he couldn’t remember it. Obviously, it wasn’t the case here, and Jack kicked himself mentally for not bothering to memorize that class. Who knew biology would turn out to be more important than chemistry in an adventure with an alchemist?

At any rate, he did know that if something was black, it was absorbing most of the full spectrum of light. Jack tried to think logically about it. So maybe these trees needed more light. Maybe they out-competed every other local tree because black leaves were more efficient?

Was that the whole story? From the glimpses of the sky they were getting, he thought the quality of sunlight was much the same as Earth, and he had spent a lot of time thinking about Mico and how similar, if not identical, he was to creatures that had once lived on Earth. So why were the trees so bizarrely different? And did it even matter? They were probably on an entirely new planet, so of course the trees were different.

It did occur to Jack that the trees might not be entirely natural. No wild forest on Earth was made up of only one type of tree. Only monoculture produced that kind of landscape. So maybe this was a timber forest? Or maybe the whole island was artificial? Could the Alchemist be that powerful? Jack realized he was coming up with a lot more questions than answers, but it was all he could do for the moment. Walk, and look at the trees, and wonder.

After charging through the forest for around an hour and discovering no discernible landmarks, Daiki stopped and pulled a large spray can of paint from his suitcase. He was always an artist first, and that was something Jack admired about him, even now, when Daiki was being kind of a dick. Jack wondered what else his friend had stashed in the heavy suitcase.

Every few minutes after that, Daiki would spray a spot of orange on a tree, leaving a bright trail of paint-matted tree-fur behind them. His suitcase wheels worked surprisingly well on the roughly uniform forest floor as, beneath the needles, the ground was hard and dry.

The suitcase rolled through the coating of dry needles with a continuous crunching sound, occasionally thumping as it was pulled over a root or stone. Jack tried to be useful as they walked, in the best way he knew how. He stared at the woods around them and tried to figure out how far they had come, how fast they were traveling and what other kinds of creatures lived in this place. The forest was oddly empty. It felt almost like a high-vaulted temple, a sacred space filled with endless columns. There was no undergrowth, no fallen trunks or branches, no grass or seedlings or saplings, or indeed much of any plant life at all aside from the furry trees.

Once, Jack glimpsed a pair of eyes shining in the distance, through the shadows between the trunks. Occasionally he would spot small piles of old bones, half buried in the black needles. Jack tried picking one up, but the tiny bone crumbled like sand at his touch, leaving a chalky smear on his fingers. It creeped him out and he hurried wiped the bone dust away. Perhaps there was a strange scavenger living here, one that sucked minerals out of bones. Jack hoped it was a scavenger, anyway.

The thought of predators living in the forest gave Jack a chill, although he wasn't sure if it was excitement or fear. So far, all the bones in the piles had been very small, likely belonging to squirrels or birds. In theory, that could mean the predators were equally small, and large animals, like humans, had nothing to worry about.

Jack chewed it over, but he couldn’t say anything definitely. It wasn’t like he was given any chance to contemplate the bones or anything else for that matter.

Daiki set a cracking pace, brushing past the furred trees as though he was trotting through an obstacle course. He didn’t slow down for anything as far as Jack could tell, aside from leaving his orange marks. If Jack stopped or slowed at all to examine his surroundings more closely, he had to run to catch up to his friend afterward. If he lost Daiki in this featureless place…

After pausing to examine a collection of tiny, translucent blue mushrooms growing in the cusp of two furry roots and almost losing Daiki in the darkness between the trees, Jack decided something had to change.

He had to make an attempt to keep his curiosity in check.

Daiki had a point after all. They had no idea how far Nimble Woods spread and it felt like the day was already edging into late afternoon. Faster was better.

Besides, Daiki was in charge. Jack had lost any claim he might have once had to be the leader. He was determined to keep his mouth shut. He was going to make it up to Daiki and his other friends.

His resolution lasted for almost 15 minutes. Right up until they emerged from the trees into a small meadow with a very large tree on a rise in the middle of it.

Jack stopped in his tracks as the sunlight flooded over him. Daiki didn't even slow down.

“Daiki, we need to stop.”

Jack tried to say it with authority but the words came out sounding apologetic. It was such a relief to be under clear blue skies again, even if they weren’t the skies of home. The light through the roof of black leaves just felt wrong and Jack was in no hurry to rush back under it.

“It's been hours. We need a break.” Jack paused and examined the meadow. “And I want to climb that tree and see where we are.”

Daiki hesitated at the treeline, his jaw clenched and stubborn. For a moment, Jack was sure he would keep walking, just to be stubborn but, to his relief, Daiki let go of his suitcase handle. Stubborn or not, his face was glowing tomato red, and his forehead was beaded with sweat.

Too much time painting, and not enough martial arts, Jack thought.

But that was spiteful. Jack knew very well his friend was pushing himself hard. Making up for my mistake.

“Yeah, you do that.” Daiki lowered himself to sit on his suitcase. He produced a hand-rolled cigarette of some kind from a pocket. Jack hoped it was only tobacco.

“Don’t let the ashes get onto those dry leaves,” Jack warned.

“I’m not an idiot,” Daiki said. He brandished a disposable lighter. “Go on, then. Climb the tree. Make sure that midget dinosaur isn't leading us in the wrong direction.”

“He’s not a dinosaur, he’s a pterosaur,” Jack said immediately. Daiki glared at him, but Jack couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut. “I looked it up. They’re completely different things.”

“Whatever.”

Mico was roosting in a tree on the edge of the clearing. Possibly at the sound of his voice, he yawned, showing off a cement colored tongue. It was surprisingly similar in shape to a human tongue. He stretched, lifting his tiny claws into the air, and then relaxed and let his wing move, seemingly idly, but humming a familiar tune.

Jack smiled when he recognized it and began to sing along. “Aweemawey, aweemawey…”

He was about to launch into the first verse when he turned to Daiki with a grin and was met by a cold stare.

Jack shut up. Time to climb a tree.

The grass of the clearing looked very soft and welcoming after so much walking, but Jack wasn’t about to let Daiki down again. He shrugged out of his pack, gratefully rolling his shoulders as the weight fell away, then crossed the grassy meadow and inspected the tree.

It was dead, probably killed by a lightning strike. Even completely bare of leaves, it was obviously the same kind of tree as all the others in the strange forest, although it was isolated in the meadow, on the small rise of land. It had the same greyish-pewter fur as the trees in the forest, though its hairs were dull while the other trees had a healthy gloss.

Patches of the fur had fallen out, revealing a scabby, reddish bark underneath, charred to black in some places.

The dead tree was enormous. Jack didn’t think his arms would stretch around even a quarter of the trunk, which rose straight up without branches for at least four or five meters.

Jack eyed the fur on the dead wood in front of him. If it was still firmly attached, he could easily put his weight on it, in order to climb to the first branch and scramble higher from there. He discarded his pack at the foot of the tree. He was about to touch the trunk when a thought occurred to him.

“Mico?” He called out. “Are the trees safe?”

“No,” Mico said.

Daiki jerked at the word and scrambled away from the edge of the clearing.

Jack snatched his hand back, thinking wildly of all the times he had brushed past the trees as they traveled. Of course, Mico did seem to enjoy misleading them when it came to information.

“Mico, I mean… I mean could the trees be dangerous to us?”

“Yes,” Mico said.

Daiki swore and turned to face away from the meadow. He planted his feet, his cigarette hanging from his lip, as though he was preparing to fight the whole forest of trees. The whisper of leaves that had followed them since they entered the forest suddenly seemed sinister. Jack noticed there wasn't a breath of wind in the clearing to explain the whispering noise. Not the slightest twig or bit of fluff stirred on the dead tree.

“Mico,” Daiki said, without taking his eyes off the forest. “How are the trees a danger to us?”

Mico blinked in the slow way that Jack was starting to suspect meant he was about to be particularly infuriating.

“A tree might fall and crush you. It could attract lightning. It could trip you with its roots. It could...”

Daiki swore and cut him off. “You dipshit, any tree could do that.”

“You asked if the trees could be a danger and Mico answered correctly.” Mico stared at Daiki even as he waved his wing around with some force. “You were told to be polite to all those you encounter. You have encountered Mico.”

“I'm sorry Mico,” Jack interjected before Daiki could say anything else. “We didn't mean to be rude. You just scared us, that's all.” Jack was suddenly terrified the little cyborg would fly off and leave them stranded in the forest. He was their only guide. How would it look to the Alchemist if they drove him off? As usual, there was no emotion in his mechanical voice, but his words were clear enough. Could he understand emotion? Jack tried to make his own voice as calm and placating as possible.

“What I really wanted to know is, will this fur stuff hurt me if I touch it?”

“No,” Mico said. “The wisken will not hurt you.”

“Whiskers?”

“The ‘fur stuff’ is called wis-ken.” Mico said the last word slowly.

“Oh,” Jack said. “Thank you, Mico.”

Jack put out a hesitant hand and gently stroked the wisken on the dead tree. He had brushed past it in the forest but had not had the chance to stop and really touch it. It had a smooth, velvety feel, like cat fur.

Jack gathered a couple of handfuls of the fur above his head and tugged gently. It seemed to be firmly attached. He put more and more weight on it until he was swinging from the trunk. It held.

For maybe the first time in his life, he was grateful that he had never had the growth spurt his mother had promised him all through puberty.

Jack scrunched up his body so that the rubber soles of his sneakers were on the wisken. It was too smooth to offer much of a grip for them, but it was better than nothing.

The trunk was much too large to shimmy up. Jack climbed it like he would a rock wall, digging in his toes and balancing with one hand, while searching for a higher handful, then slowly pushing his body weight up one foot at a time. It was exhausting, and he was already tired, but he wasn’t about to quit when Daiki was watching.

Eventually, he made it to the first branch. Awkwardly, constantly feeling like he was about to slip off, Jack pulled himself up and over the lowest tree branch. He paused, sprawled out on the branch for a few minutes to catch his breath. It wasn’t bad sitting there, stroking the soft fur idly, until an impatient sigh drifted up from below.

The first branch was too far under any of the others to be used as an easy stepping stone. Jack had to keep climbing the trunk, edging around it and away from that safety net, in order to get to the next closest one.

Jack was about a meter from his goal when it happened.

His foot slipped.