Times first glance

Gnnamme remains concealed beside the open ditch as the tall grass parts in several places. Older teen and young adult men push through, broad-shouldered beneath crude armor, their exaggerated chonmage topknots tied badly above confused, determined faces.

Bamboo spears and wooden blades rise above the stalks. Shields painted with crooked samurai symbols knock together as the newcomers form several noisy clusters instead of one line.

At the nearest stilt home, the woman grips the raised ladder with both hands while the old man braces beneath it. The child crouches behind their woven wall as boots crush grass below.

The formations tighten around the ditch, but their shouting and crossed routes leave brief openings between them. Spears angle toward the concealed grass while the homes remain under pressure.

Gnnamme’s chant rolls through the ditch and towering grass, deep enough to tremble in the stilt homes. The raiders falter as distant calls answer from every side.

Boars burst from the fern-dark beneath the trees, tusked adults leading a broad rush. Tree-dwelling lizards spill from branches, and huge moths whirl above the clearing.

The animals surge between Gnnamme and the stilt houses, surrounding the raiders without striking. Spears lower, shields overlap, and the young attackers stumble backward.

The chant settles into the living wilderness. The gathered creatures remain arrayed as a protective barrier, while the villagers gain a clear, guarded refuge above the grass.

Gnnamme’s warning becomes a rallying roar, rolling beneath the canopy and shaking seedheads loose. The force tears his throat raw, leaving a copper taste, but every raider hears him.

The boars stamp and snort behind him while lizards cling to the trunks overhead. The raiders obey in fragments, lowering bamboo points and backing away from the stilt ladders.

Above, the woman cautiously lowers the ladder’s end without releasing her grip. The old man peers over the threshold, staring from Gnnamme to the living barrier.