CHAPTER 44 – The One They Call “SkyWaker”

  The trail north of Neels Gap climbed steadily into deeper forest—cooler, darker, the trees taller and older, like the mountains were shifting into a new mood. Fleta liked the quiet. The air smelled like moss and sun?warmed bark. Birds flitted between branches. SleepisforT walked with them now, making the group feel bigger, more anchored.

  Jess marched ahead humming some tune she definitely made up. Marco balanced on rocks like he was pretending the ground was lava. Riley—Northstar—walked steadily in the middle.

  Fleta was thinking about the shoe tree, about “one day,” when a voice drifted through the woods:

  “GOOD MORNING, MY FELLOW BEINGS OF CARBON AND COURAGE!”

  Everyone stopped.

  A figure came bounding down the trail.

  Bounding, not walking.

  A tall hiker with bright orange shorts, mismatched socks, a vest covered in patches, and a bandana tied like a superhero cape. A pair of sunglasses perched on top of their head, even though the forest was shady. Their trekking poles were wrapped in neon tape.

  They skidded to a stop in front of the group and struck a heroic pose.

  “I AM SKYWAKER!” They pointed dramatically to the sky. “Waker of skies! Snacker of snacks! Keeper of trail vibes!”

  Jess blinked. “Oh. Wow.”

  Marco whispered, “I have found my role model.”

  Riley smiled politely. “Hi there. We’re heading north.”

  “EXCELLENT,” SkyWaker said. “North is a beautiful direction. I tried south once. Didn’t like it. It felt… backwards.”

  SleepisforT snorted.

  SkyWaker leaned on their poles like they were about to begin a TED Talk.

  “Tell me, travelers—have you encountered the PUDS yet?”

  Jess frowned. “The what?”

  “PUDS!” SkyWaker cried. “The Pointless Ups and Downs! They are everywhere! Sneaky little things. Always going up when they should go down. Always going down when snacks are low.”

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  Marco gasped. “That explains everything.”

  SkyWaker grinned. “Ah yes. You understand. You are wise.”

  They turned to Fleta, studying her in a way that was curious but gentle.

  “And who,” SkyWaker said dramatically, “might you be, small hiker?”

  Fleta swallowed. She wasn’t used to being singled out by strangers—especially loud, enthusiastic ones who seemed powered by solar energy and chaos.

  But she lifted her chin a little.

  “StillMoving,” she said.

  SkyWaker gasped like she’d just revealed she was royalty.

  “A NAME OF DESTINY! A NAME OF MOTION! A NAME OF—”

  They tripped on a rock.

  Not a big one. Not a hidden one. A very large, very obvious rock.

  They fell forward, hit the ground with a soft oof, then popped back up instantly.

  “As I was saying!” SkyWaker continued, brushing off dirt. “A name of power. Very good. I approve.”

  Jess clapped once. “I love them.”

  SleepisforT whispered to Riley, “Do we… keep them?”

  Riley whispered back, “They’re not a cat. They’re a whole meteor storm.”

  Marco grinned. “Let’s keep them anyway.”

  SkyWaker threw their arms wide. “I ACCEPT! I shall accompany you until the winds tell me otherwise!”

  Riley raised a cautious eyebrow. “Where were you headed before this?”

  SkyWaker pointed vaguely north. “That way.”

  “Where exactly?”

  SkyWaker shrugged. “Wherever the vibes take me.”

  Jess leaned toward Fleta and whispered, “They’re out there. Like… way out there.”

  Fleta smiled a little. SkyWaker made her feel oddly at ease—like the world could be strange but still good, still safe, still colorful.

  “Do you hike alone?” she asked.

  SkyWaker gasped dramatically. “Never alone! I travel with my loyal companion!”

  They reached into their pack.

  The group collectively tensed.

  SkyWaker pulled out… a small rubber duck.

  It was blue. And wearing sunglasses.

  “This is Sir Quacksworth,” SkyWaker said with absolute sincerity. “He protects me from bad decisions.”

  Jess lost it. Marco fell to his knees laughing. Even Riley snorted.

  Fleta smiled—really smiled—because SkyWaker’s absurdity pushed the last shadows of yesterday’s storm out of her chest.

  The forest felt lighter with them around. The trail felt brighter. Safer. Happier.

  SkyWaker saluted the group with a sweeping flourish. “Lead on, StillMoving and friends! For the mountain awaits our glorious footsteps!”

  Jess whispered, “We’re definitely keeping them.”

  And so the group headed north, now with a new companion—one who talked to ducks, declared war on root systems, narrated their own footsteps, and somehow made the day feel like sunshine had a personality.

  Fleta followed with the others, her heart light, her steps steady, her trail family one hiker larger than she ever expected.

  Still moving. Still becoming.

  And now— laughing.