She was our guide, our leaf hopper in the common slang, one of the Irhindrow - the Forest People, the Squirrel People, the Mousemen. She stood at barely waist high to human woman - all spring, all muscle, with a constant wariness towards both potential dangers from without and from those within. Her green hued skin glowed under the dim flylights embedded in her garment, just enough light to cut the blackness of the deep wood. It was unusual to see her here in the camp, away from her hiding place in the high canopy. Her discomfort was evident from the way her eyes glared from one of our party to the next, constantly shifting as if her gaze were a shield. She was not alone in this discomfort. For we all knew, that if our guide had thought it necessary to leave the safety of the trees to report, trouble must be close. I saw her gesture and hiss her message to our leader. And after a single nod from him, she turned and scampered as fast as a squirrel, back up the trees and out of sight.