Dem followed Telo to Suli's camp. She sat near a cookfire, huddled with an old woman and more than a dozen adults ranging from young parents to grey-haired elders.
Suli rose the moment she saw them. Even shaken, she remembered her manners.
"This is Sentry Commander Demetri Swiftwind," she said, voice trembling, "and you all know Sentry Chief Telo."
Dem could feel the dread in the air—a whole family already grieving. He clapped his hands sharply, making half of them jump.
"Alright," Dem announced, loud enough to cut through the gloom. "I've been briefed. The Sentry Force has decided to accept this mission."
Suli's breath hitched. "You… have?"
"Correction," Dem said gently, "we have. You're one of us."
He clasped his hands behind his back. "Remind me how many times we've failed, Suli."
"Never," she whispered. A spark of hope returned to her eyes. "We have never failed."
Telo grinned. "Settled then."
Dem nodded toward the trail. "Take us to where your dasai was last seen."
Suli broke into a trot, weaving past the family tent and up a steep trail that climbed out of the basin. At the top stood a small grove of tall pines overlooking a thirty-foot drop to the bay below.
"Myna, my dosu was up here with her intended," Suli explained, moving to a broad stump—waist-high, wide enough for a family to sit on. "My dasai was playing on this while they watched the view."
"Intended means they're bonded to be married," Telo added. "This is a place couples come to be alone."
"I see." Dem placed his hand on the stump, studying its weathered surface.
The air thickened, scent-ribbons curling into existence—pine sap, brine from the bay, the faint sweetness of spilled wine… and beneath it all, a tiny wisp. Something unfamiliar.
Dem followed it away from the cliff, making Suli gasp with relief, and stopped at the base of a tall pine.
He stepped back, looking up through the branches.
Telo placed a reassuring hand on Suli's shoulder. "Could you wait at the base of the trail? Keep watch for us. The next part is… sensitive."
Suli left immediately, trusting them completely.
Telo looked up. "He up there?"
Dem nodded. "Yep. Arboreal. Not sure what kind—he's hiding."
Telo squinted. "Looks pretty high, Commander. Guess this is you. Foxes don't climb, and neither do I."
Dem snorted—and vanished in a puff of clothes.
A large black rat emerged an instant later, his claws gripping the bark as he sprinted up the tree as if he were on flat land.
High in the branches, he found the tiny creature clinging desperately to a narrow limb with all four paws and its prehensile tail. Honey-colored fur. Round ears. Soft eyes.
A kinkajou.
Dem didn't know how he knew the name—but something ancient in his blood told him exactly what it was.
The little beast froze as the black rat approached. Dem reached gently, teeth closing around the scruff of its neck. Instinct took over—the kinkajou went limp.
Climbing down was slower, but he descended until he was level with Telo.
"This is him?" Telo breathed, lifting the kinkajou carefully against his chest. "Saints… he's so cute."
Dem shifted back to human form, dressing quickly. "Let's get him back to camp."
Telo glanced sideways. "Uh… gonna change him back first?"
Dem exhaled. "I don't know how yet." His eyes focused. "But I'll figure it out."
Suli was still keeping watch when she heard them returning. She burst into tears instantly and rushed toward Telo.
"Careful—he's small."
Telo placed the kinkajou gently into her arms, then followed her back up the trail.
Suli stared down at him, trembling. "It's really him… the same beautiful eyes."
Dem and Telo followed her into the family tent, where more than a dozen relatives pressed close, hope and fear swirling in the cramped space.
Despite his tiny furred form, they recognized the child immediately.
"Need a moment with Lorn's mother," Dem said.
Suli handed the kinkajou to a young-looking woman with gentle eyes. "Take Commander Dem inside, Mom. We'll stay out here."
She nodded. "I'm Buella. Thank you… for helping my family."
"We are many clans, but one tribe," Dem replied—words that rose from somewhere deep and familiar. The family fell silent at the phrase as he followed Buella into the tent.
"Please, sit," Buella whispered, kneeling beside the cushions.
Dem settled across from her. "Lay Lorn down."
Buella placed her transformed child onto the furs. Dem's eyes sharpened—dark irises shifting to blood-red.
"Escadomai."
Buella vanished in a swirl of red mist; a moment later, a small kinkajou crawled free of her clothes, blinking up at him. Recognition and joy shone in her warm brown eyes.
Lorn squealed, throwing himself at his mother, burying his face in her thick fur. Her soft chittering answered his.
Dem grinned. Some beastkin forms were entirely random, but sometimes bloodlines ran true. His own father. His own mother. His great-grandfather, the Rat King.
"If this doesn't work, we'll try something else," he said gently.
He closed his eyes, feeling Buella's beast form, then Lorn's—two threads of the same ancient lineage. He exhaled and released both forms.
A human infant began to wail.
"Lorn!" Buella gasped, scooping him up, clutching him tight as tears spilled down her cheeks. "He's back… Saints, he's back…"
Dem stood, turning away to give her privacy. "I'll step outside while you dress."
Buella flushed bright red. "O–of course, Commander."
Outside, Suli and the others surged toward him, but Dem held up a hand.
"They'll be out in a minute," he said with a small smile. "Everything's fine. But you should speak to your shaman. Lorn needs to be inked early."
Suli broke. She threw herself into Dem's arms, sobbing into his chest.
"I knew you could do it. Thank you… thank you…"
He hugged her back, gentle but steady, while relief washed through the group.
Moments later, Buella emerged from the tent with a laughing, very human toddler gripping her hand.
Telo's grin stretched ear to ear. "Alright—the Sentry Force racks up another flawless mission."
They left the camp amid more thanks and blessings. Both of them walked in good spirits.
Dem broke the silence. "I have a theory."
"About why this is happening?" Telo asked.
Dem nodded. "Tribal bloodlines are diluted. Most of you don't inherit your parents' forms. You're a fox; Yena's a dhole. Your parents are neither."
Telo blinked. "She's what?"
"Dhole. Long story. But my point is: this might only happen when the child shares the same beastkin bloodline as the mother."
Telo mulled that over. "Not the father?"
"I changed early—out of necessity. And I share my mother's form," Dem said. "That might matter."
Telo snapped his fingers. "Could be relevant. It could be a coincidence. How do we test it?"
"You said this happened three times. What were the dates on the other two?"
"Five years ago," Telo said softly. "And fifteen."
"Fifteen is way too distant." Dem's expression tightened. "Take me to the most recent family."
Telo hesitated. His throat worked. "Commander… It's been five years. Are you sure this is a good idea? Those wounds don't… really heal."
Dem put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.
"That's exactly why we should go."