On an individual basis, moments when humans go from “big, scary, too strong and menacing” to “big, protective, safe and ok still a bit scary”
Just little things, like being able to catch a falling numidid, deflect a blow, walk or swim in currents that bowl over little guineafowl people, or bodily grab them out of the way of danger etc.
An adult Human was twice the size of a Numidid in relaxed posture. Four if the Numidid was in a defensive huddle. And if that Numidid stretched, they might have a hope of being slightly taller than two-thirds that of the human.
And that was just on average.
As with any species, there were variants. Smaller than normal Numidid and taller than normal Humans. Such was the case with Syriki the Small and Big Leeroy. Both were very quiet cogniscents and went on many scientific forays together.
Big Leeroy was huge. In both height and breadth. At the end of a long day, many colonists would see him lending his shoulder for the small black Bird as well as being her pack horse of sorts.
Syriki answered many questions from Kal'rike, all coming from concerned citizens who saw the giant, muscular human on her live streams.
Most frequent was, How did you tame such a big human?
Syriki laughed at that one. She didn’t tame him at all.
She’d been investigating some nodules on a branch too frail to hold even her small weight. He’d been underneath, foraging for samples in the undergrowth. Both minding their own business and making their own, muttered, Keep Calm I’m Here noises out of mutual respect.
When the branch snapped and Syriki screamed, she was underneath it. There was no time for her to unfurl her wings.
But the human had simply snatched her out of the air and transformed her inertia into a slowing swing before gently setting her, upright and dazed, onto the ground.
“All good, miss bird?” he chirped in broken Ulu.
Syriki huddled even smaller and practiced her Science Breathing. All she could think was that everyone in Kal'rike was saying life would be better without the humans on the planet.
Without the humans on the planet, she would be experiencing a snapped neck or broken clavicle. And a quick and lonely death in this jungle.
Humans on the planet had made her life longer, for a start.
She took so long at coming back to normal that Big Leeroy had taken his shirt off and used it as an improvised pseudowing to help her keep warm. He was cooing, “Be good, be good…” and gently patting her.
Syriki regained control and managed a shaky, “All good, kind ape,” in broken English.
That was the first day he’d carried her and her findings back to the Beach Path Hide. Humans were learning to communicate in a language their mouths were not made for. They easily sounded like they required an excess of remedial education. But day after day, they proved that they understood.
Though this human had not been seen at or visited the Beach Path Hide, he still knew where it was and knew it was where the Numidid could go to meet with other Numidid.
Syriki knew that the entire Human colony had more or less adopted her as their keet, despite her age. She hadn’t realised until much later that the Humans had taken to following her around and acting as her bodyguard.
It didn’t take her very long. The fifth time she saw or heard Big Leeroy shadowing her path was enough to allow her the realisation.
She hopped down to his eye-line and bluntly asked, “Good ape follow for make-safe Syriki?”
“Leeroy,” he said, tapping his chest. “Make good safe, pretty bird.”
It was a promise he kept throughout his life. Long after he really needed to. He even repeated his snatch-and-swing trick when one of her pre-fledged keets fell from her perch on the courtesy rail. Years and years after most humans were fluent in Ulu.
By then, Kal'rike was asking if she was going to invite him into her nest.
But no, they remained incredibly good friends.
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