The reunion was everything the forest folk had dreamed of during their long exile. Pappy Jack's joy was as evident as the sun in the sky, his relief palpable. He held them and spoke to them in the mixture of his language and theirs that they were beginning to develop together. Little-Little—Baby Fuzzy—was beside himself with happiness, and the family was whole again.
But they had been brought to a strange place, a vast room filled with Tall Ones and filled with a tension that even the small folk could sense. This was clearly a place of importance, where significant things happened. The family stayed close together, finding comfort in one another's presence as they tried to understand what was unfolding.
There were many Tall Ones there, some they recognized and some they didn't. Pappy Jack was there, and Ben, and Gerd. There was the female who had offered them the trade—Ruth, whom they had come to recognize as a friend. But there were also others, including the ones whose presence made their fur prickle with unease—Kellogg and Mallin, the ones associated with their captivity.
The small folk couldn't understand the proceedings, couldn't grasp that they were the subject of a momentous debate: were they people or animals? Were they deserving of rights and protection, or were they property to be owned and controlled? These were questions that had never needed asking in the forest, where every creature had its place and its dignity.
What they could understand was emotional content. They could sense the passion in Pappy Jack's voice when he spoke about them, the coldness in others who clearly saw them as less than they were. They could feel the weight of judgment hanging in the air like the pressure before a storm.
And then came a miracle that changed everything.
One of the Tall Ones brought out small devices that, when placed in the ears, allowed the giants to hear the high-frequency speech of the forest folk. For the first time, the barriers of communication began to truly fall. When they called out "Pappy Jack!" in their own tongue, every Tall One in the room could hear it, could understand that these were not mere sounds but words, names, concepts.
The revelation rippled through the assembled Tall Ones like wind through grass. Some had believed in the small folk's intelligence all along. Others had doubted, had seen only what they wanted to see—cute animals, clever perhaps, but not truly aware. Now, hearing the speech that had always been there, hidden in the ultrasonic ranges above human hearing, they could doubt no longer.
Seeker, whom the Tall Ones called Little Fuzzy, chose that moment to demonstrate another aspect of forest intelligence. He produced the small fire-making device that Pappy Jack had inadvertently taught him to use, and with careful deliberation, he lit the tiny pipe he carried and smoked it, performing an act that required not just physical dexterity but understanding of tools, cause and effect, and personal choice.
The judgment came: the small folk were people. They were sapient beings, entitled to all the rights and protections that status conferred. They were not animals to be caged or property to be owned. They were citizens of a larger world, worthy of respect and dignity.
The forest folk couldn't fully comprehend what had been decided in that formal way, but they understood the emotional reality. They were safe. They were recognized. They had won not just their own freedom but the freedom of all their kind throughout the great forests and mountains of their world.