The next day, or at least what he took to be the next day, there was food waiting for him.

Although he remembered faintly something about not accepting anything else from this mutant woman, his stomach rumbled ferociously. He didn't remember the last time he had eaten. Logan was a firm believer in the carnivorous diet, but he was too hungry to turn his nose up at the fruits on the leaf beside him, and he tore into them ravenously. They were pretty good, actually - sort of like a peach and a tangerine together, although they looked weird, sort of brownish with nubs all over them. He didn't smell the woman who had been helping him through his illness until a few moments before she appeared on the far bough on the opposite side of the platform. And somehow he knew that she had slowed down intentionally so that he could smell her approach, rather than risk startling him.

She greeted him in a language that he didn't comprehend, although it sounded archaic, her gaze fixed on him and a small smile playing on her face. On her back was a bundle wrapped in leaves, which she steadied it with one three-fingered hand. She carried more fruits in another leaf bundle with the other. It seemed she could walk on two legs as well as four, and she was completely at home in the treetops, not needing to grab onto any branches around her to steady herself.

"Yeah, hi," Logan replied. "English, remember?"

She gave him one of those still, slow blinks, then nodded. "Yes, I forget sometimes. I heard ground people using the older speech today. It is how I get this."

This was apparently what was in the bundle on her back, which she set down on the platform and unrolled. Inside were chunks of roast meat, corn tortillas and bits of something shiny and pale yellow. Logan picked one of these up and looked at it in the dim forest light; about the size of a pea, although they ranged in size from that to the width of a hazelnut. It was heavy for its size and, as he turned it in his palm, it caught one lone shaft of sunlight that had struggled through the canopy, and blazed in his eyes.

"Gold," he murmured, surprised. "They give you gold?"

She trilled a laugh again in that strange birdsong and waterfall way, her eyes twinkling like the gold in his hand. "They think I am a god, and used to offer me sacrifice long ago. Meat is good," she said, allowing a smile to her lips, which exposed rather sharp looking teeth. She looked down at the meat in the leaves. "I like it better cooked. They know that now."

"So what about this stuff then?" Logan said, nodding to the gold on the leaf. Gold was worth a little bit more now than it used to be, and what was on that torn forest leaf was worth quite a bit of money. "Where did it come from? Who gave it to you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "The ground people dig for it in old places." Her brow furrowed a bit, and her eyes took on a cast he hadn't seen in her before; sorrow, pain, and loss. " Others come for it as well, and they hurt the Forest to do it, sometimes. But the ground people that have always been here are poor now, and they need it more than me, so I put it back where they can find it, and they bless the Goddess for it. Sometimes we trade the same gold back and forth, until I put a message in the leaves for them to keep it for themselves - and to cook the meat next time."

That strange laugh again, which made him think of growing things that would never be cut with an axe, or trampled by careless feet. He was beginning to like her laugh and voice with its images and scents - it was refreshing to him in ways that the cities never could be, although he didn't always understand what she was talking about, like that message in the leaves stuff. He was a wildman still, in some ways. Civilization would always be foreign to him, and the sound of water, the smell of this place, soothed him in ways that he had forgotten about. (but watch it, bub- you have always been a sucker for the dames)

His sixth sense made him snap out of whatever tangent his brain was travelling on to watch her roll some roasted meat into a tortilla and hand him one. "No plant people in this," she said, and winked one brilliant jewel of an eye at him.

He had half of the burrito in his mouth before he realized what she was referring to. "Yeah, don't ever put stuff in my food again, lady. It ain't funny."

She tilted her head at him, confusion in her eyes. "Que?" She thought about it for a moment, almost as if she was listening to something, then nodded. "Ah, yes, the plant you made angry. It was part of her I gave to you, to help you heal. It made you sleep, and you did the rest. I think you call it vac-cine." She looked a bit hurt, but also a bit amused. "If the forest wanted to gone, you would have been, although it would have taken a long time."

"It shouldn't have done anything to me at all," Logan grunted, a bit irritated that his immune system had been taken over by a single scratch off a plant.

She shrugged and rolled another burrito for him, her three - fingered hands working dexterously as she sat back on her haunches, her head tilted again in that strange listening posture. "You must remember, chico, that there are things in this forest that most ground people have never seen," she said finally after a short time. "Even you, forest-man, cannot be able to be safe from everything. You have the forest-scent to you, but those forests and these are two different things. The plant did not know you, and she stored up muchos poison. It would have killed a normal ground person."

"Sort of like auto-immunity, huh?" Logan thought about that. Yeah, when he was ... made - even now he couldn't think of a different word than that -science knew that after a certain amount of time of being exposed to the same toxins or viral strains, the body became immune. However, not even Project X could have exposed him to everything. If, even now, the rainforest was full of plants that no white men had ever seen, let alone classified, it made sense that there was something down here that might be able to kill a man with a scratch. And even kill a mutant. (which makes finding out what Sabretooth is doing down here a little bit more urgent, don't it, bub?)

She had taken this time to study him a bit, and her nostrils flared delicately, inhaling his scent, then she nodded once to herself and handed him another burrito. "You are one of these Other people, I think, but there is a forest scent to you. I think that is why I save you." She shrugged as is resigning herself to her fate. "Perhaps saving you was wrong, who knows?" She nodded at his hands, even though the wounds from his bone claws were healed until not even a scar was left. "True, you could kill me if you wanted, yes?"

He had the burrito to his mouth when he froze at the mention of "Others".

"What Others?" he asked sharply. "Others like me?

She thought about that again for a moment, then shook her head. "No, you would not hurt this place, even if you weren't thinking about it. You are forest-child. Even when the plant bit you, you did not uproot it, like the Others do when something is in their way, instead of going 'round." And here her eyes flashed, and her lips thinned. Her scent, which seemed always to be a bit earthly and greenish, now smelled a bit of ozone and darker somehow, almost the way that Storm smelled when she was about to unleash her powers. He realized that she was livid, and the scent was her fury surging off her in waves. The leaves around in the canopy stirred agitatedly, though there was no breeze. There never was a breeze in the rainforest, and the constant call of animals about them rose to a high anxious pitch, then the forest went silent. Utterly silent, as if the forest was holding its breath. He wondered if something was trying to sneak up on them, and tensed, even though he couldn't smell anything coming. Thing was, she didn't look worried either, just very angry at whoever it was who was stomping through her home and tearing apart just because things were in the way. And he had a pretty good idea who that would be ... oh yeah indeed.

Then her eyes cleared and she shrugged again." It is all right, I will stop them soon. The forest is older than they are, and so am I."

And, as soon as the rage had left her face and form, the leaves above her head stilled themselves, and the parrots and lemurs around them began to call again, hesitantly at first, and then with more of their old joi de verve. (this is one seriously powerful mutant. No wonder the folks around here think she is a god; she doesn't just live in the forest, she controls it.)

He finally managed to get the second burrito into his mouth, and he chewed slowly, thinking. So, her emotions apparently were tied to the forest, and vice versa. The plants and animals talked to her, and somehow she did the same. But she was more than just some rainforest version of Dr. Doolittle if impoverished people of the forest would dig gold for her as an offering. He wasn't sure exactly what she was. She could learn languages and know of things by listening, though listening to what he had no idea. (The forest maybe? sounds crazy, but does she learn from the trees?)

She had no fear of anything, only concern for her home and what was in it. He really didn't think she was afraid of whoever was tearing her part of the forest down, and that concerned him, because if it was who he thought it was, he would rip this girl apart. (or he could try ... I'm not so sure I could take her on myself, not if the whole forest for three miles around reacts when she is pissed off)

One thing was for sure. Sabretooth was here. Maybe others of Magneto's headcase hordes. So at least one part of the mission was still ahead of him.

"I know who these Others are, I think," Logan said finally. "And it would be better if you left them to me."

She had rolled herself a burrito, and ate it ravenously in two bites, then made another almost before she had swallowed the first one. Logan realized with a start that she had probably not left him the whole time he was sick, not even to eat.

"I do not want your war in my home," she said softly, a bit of defiance in her eye. "Enough harm is done, harm that I cannot stop - " again that look of pain in her face. "Whatever war you have, it will not be here in my home."

"If that is Sabretooth out there, lady, you already have a war on your hands," he growled.

She raised her chin higher, and her eyes began to almost gleam with intent - with hardheadedness, more like. "What war there is, you brought with you, Lo-gan."

He winced inwardly at that, because in a way she was right, but he was feeling himself getting angry. "Yeah, well trust me, sister, I don't know what Sabretooth started here to get you so pissed of, but you better believe that I am gonna finish it, with or without your help. He is a waste of space."

She laughed, throwing her head back between bites of her burrito, but there was a bitterness to the sound. "And so you think you can just walk through my forest so easily, when only a short time ago a pretty plant nearly took your life?"

"If it is that easy," Logan sneered, "how come Sabretooth is still around? How come your attack-plant didn't do him in?"

At this, it was her turn to wince, but she did not drop her gaze, the pain returning to her face again, and the very light of the canopy seemed to dim. "The one you call Sabretooth did - bad things to some ground people to make me stop trying to hurt him and the Other with him. The ground people think me a god. I must protect them. How could I keep trying?"

She seemed to shake off the mood, and the sunlight above them streamed down a bit more through the leaves of the canopy as she reached for a fruit. "But believe me, Lo-gan, travelling alone would be foolish, even for you. There are things that walk the forest floor that even I cannot speak to, and I doubt that they would listen if I could get them to understand me. Besides, you are doing good now, but I doubt you can walk for very far yet, let alone fight."

"Don't bet on it," Logan growled. "I am tougher than I look."

She nodded and bit into the fruit, chewing and swallowing like a starving thing. "Oui, monsieur, you have to be. The plant that scratched you would have killed several ground people." She tilted her head and studied him, licking her lips. "Does this make you mu-tant? Are the Others mu-tant as well? I do not smell the forest on them, except for the one you call Sabretooth." Her nose wrinkled. "His scent is rotten though, like a marsh."

"Don't tell him to his face," Logan replied, but he allowed himself a faint smile, because that was how Sabretooth smelled to him too. And maybe he might tell him.

"You can make them leave, these mu-tants?" There was a hint of a hopeful note in her voice. "Every day ground people destroy so much here ... I feel them hurting this place so far away that I can do nothing to stop them, because I cannot see and hear everything. For every place that I save, I lose two. Each day a part of the forest becomes silent to me forever, but these Others are worse even then the greedy ones." She shuddered and pulled her knees up under her chin, wrapping them in her long arms.

Logan didn't quite understand what she was talking about, but he did feel that he owed her a debt. Whatever Sabretooth was doing was hurting her people and her forest. There was also the idea of plants here that might be used against the humans. While humans weren't exactly one of his favorite things, he didn't like the idea of any sort of toxin in the hands of Sabretooth or Magneto. But most of all, the woman had helped him, and Logan owed her a debt for his life. And if there was one thing Logan held above all things, it was his ability to pay a debt he owed in full, and sometimes with interest.

"If you want them out of here, and if they are who I think they are, yeah, I will get them out. One way or another, I can promise you that." She smiled at him, all teeth and twinkling eyes, and it was almost like watching the sunrise. He studied her for a little while, thinking, and then grabbed another fruit.

"What is your name anyway? I can't just say 'hey you' all the time."

She seemed a bit startled at that, and a small frown creased her brow. "I don't think I have one. Or I have many, so I am not sure which one works best. You pick one."

He thought about that for a minute, and chewed on the fruit. A bunch of names came to his mind, most of them more painful than not. He shook his head as if to clear them away, but he knew they would just come back another time and haunt him again.

A thought came to him. He was in Brazil, but the country was still divided into states, and this rainforest was nestled in highlands, a few hundred miles from the ocean, which might have been where she learned the French. What was the name of the place again?

"Guiana," he said softly. "That is the name of this place, right? How 'bout I call you that?"

She smiled again, and looked rather pleased, flipping the ropes of her hair back over her shoulder with a toss of her head. "That is a very good name for me, yes. A very good name."

"Rest for now, Lo-gan," she said, standing up and stretching her long arms to the branches overhead. "I have some tree-people to talk to, and then I will show you where these Others are, and we can make them go away together, yes?"

Before he could reply that the last thing he wanted was her in the middle of the fray, she around on the platform, dropped on all fours, bounded off into the leaves and was gone. He lost her scent in seconds only. She was very fast indeed.

He looked down at the remains of their repast, and the little pile of gold on the leaves, glinting in the dim light, and wondered.