Confusion and Despair

[Carlisle]

<One broad paw sunk to the dewclaw in thick, sticky mud. The dog heaved an exhasperated sigh and jerked back, unsticking the trapped limb and driving one of his hindpaws equally as deep into the marshy, soft soil. A growl of frustration escaped his white and black muzzle as the hound mix continued his exhausting journey across the strange mixed habitat of wetland, field, and forest. It was a strange place, brushy with tall grass poking up from muddy soil, and small scattered trees dotting the landscape. It was certainly unlike anywhere he'd ever been, but then again, the only place he knew well was a small kennel.
At least there was no more fear. He was hungry, exhausted, muddy, and cold, but he'd have taken any of that any day over the confinement and terror of the class B dealer, the shelter, or even the home. For a dog, he was unusually fearful of humans and his surroundings; he needed a low-stimulus, consistent, and human free environment to be happy. These lands were just that; placid, serene, and void of any sign of man. No, they were not easy lands; he was a hunting dog, yes, but never actually had to fend for himself before. And no, there was no roof over his head to keep out rain, no bedding under his paws (though both had been paltry at the dealer's, anyways). But he at least was in charge of his own destiny, something which in and of itself brought greater security.
The one thing he did feel a sore lack of was interaction. He had never been able to form strong bonds due to his ever-changing past situation, but he had longed to, particularly with other canines. His hound blood was pack-oriented, and he desparately wished for other canines to converse with. His life had been so dull he didn't even know what they would speak of, but just having someone around to talk about nothing with would be better than being alone.
Who knew? Perhaps the humans who "rescued" him would come back later with more dogs. Honestly, he failed to see why he was the only one liberated, anyways. Maybe they would go back later to get more dogs, or maybe they'd bring others from far away places. Surely they wouldn't take him from that hell to deliver him to endless years of solitude; what would be the point? The motives of humans were always tragically lost on canines, and Carlisle was the rule, not the exception...>

[Yantez]

<Even if it was lonely, it was fun. Yantez threw his long arm fowards, finding a branch instantly and using his momentum to fly fowards at startling speeds to the next tree. His furry, white, oddly-human hands grasped surely every time, never once slipping or falling to the earth below, though it wouldn't have been much of a fall; the orchard area was primarily made up of apple, orange, and other smaller, squatter trees, and even those that would one day tower were still too young. Still, even only ten feet or so above the ground, Yantez felt like he was flying, having only had a cage with a six foot diameter and one dead tree to climb in before.
Fruit bobbed on the ends of branches and occasionally dropped to the ground below him as he ricoched((haha, suck at spelling, much?)) from limb to limb, making quick turns and twists in mid air to change direction. He moved through the strange new "forest" until he was flush and tired, whereupon he settled with his back against the trunk of a great orange tree. Pulling one ripe fruit from the branches, he brought it to his mouth and, turning it in his palms a few times, set right into the rind with his teeth. The juicy, citrus taste flowed down his throat, a finer snack than the dry monkey biscuits or browned bannanas he'd gotten back "home."
Home. The gibbon frowned a bit at the memory, because even though it was miserable there, he still somewhat missed it. Yes, he'd been kept completely alone, his cage not big enough to hold more than one of his kind, but he could at least see and hear other primates and animals of all sorts around. Here, it was peaceful and wild, but there was no one to talk to. Indeed, the only animals he'd seen since arriving were some small, bushy-tailed tree rodents who chattered furiously and darted off when he tried to make conversation, and occasional songbirds who sang lyrically but kept their distance.
Were other primates released with him? It seemed only likely, but he'd been here a week now and had seen neither hide nor hair of any other monkey or ape. No tamarins, no macaques, and of course - no gibbons. Perhaps elsewhere in the great land, they all gathered, feasting on even better fruits than the ones he'd found here. Or perhaps they'd been released elsewhere. Who knew? Men had such strange motives, so who could predict the outcome of their actions?
Up ahead, in the great marshy expanse of land inbetween the swamps and the border habitat, sounds of a struggle reached Yantez's ears. Letting out a low hoot of excitement, he reached up to the boughs above him, gripping it with his hands and the limb he was on with his feet, shuffling as a temporary biped towards the end of the branch. He couldn't go far, for these trees were not meant for bearing the weight of his kind, but he got close enough that he could peer through the dense wall of vibrant leaves and lucious fruit and see out over the land.
There was a strange piebald animal struggling in the mud. Something about the sharpness of its face and the shape of its body reminded him a little of the wolves and coyotes his owners kept as pets, but it was all wrong at the same time; its fur was to short, its body too lean, and its ears drooped on both sides of its head like a goat's. Fascinated by this mystery beast, the gibbon's rapt attention was focused on the distance, and not the very tree he was in, perhaps a mistake.>

[Huitaca and AbeMango]

:Abe-Mango squalled unhappily as gloved hands closed around her furred form, pulling her from the battered dog carrier with little ceremony and less civility. Balanced on a tree branch some distance away, Huitaca answered with an excited and upset hoot, bouncing on her golden limbs. Granted, their rescuers had reasons to be so very abrupt and rude: they had been waiting for the gibbon to leave the shelter of plastic and steel for the past two hours. Their was a good reason Abe-Mango did not want to leave, however: she liked the sanctuary. It had good food, nearby companions, and a spacious cage for her and her younger companion. This large, wild space might be larger, but it surely did not come with a health plan or guaranteed meals.
:The carrier door was snapped shut when she tried to reenter, she was picked up and set down again, and both of the men fled to their truck. Abe-Mango followed close on their heels, black arms lofted in the air while she made a bow-legged sprint to the car. With a single heave, she clambered up the bike rack on the back and flung herself onto the luggage rack on the top, balancing with the ease of an animal made fit by a week of rehab and formed by years of evolution. Curses emerged from below as the prim female settled, and one man popped his head out the window, gazing up with baffled and annoyed eyes at the primate. Abe-Mango grinned at him, daring him to do something about her current position. His head ducked back into the car, and angry discussion burst from within.
“Come on, Abe!” The call came from Huitaca, who paced swung a tight circle through a group of gnarled apple trees, knocking loose a few of the plump, ripe fruits. “This place is huge, beautiful, awesome. Better than the rehab center by far. Don’t you want to explore?” The tawny female sounded hopeful.
:Abe-Mango did not deign to respond for several moments, puffed up and self righteous. This was not her home. It was none of anyone’s business to put her here.
“They’ll not take you back!” This was a wail, part hope, part knowledge: after all, if they did drag Abe-Mango back to the center, that would leave Huitaca all alone, something the social fae did not want. Her words obviously jarred the other female, whose head cocked and body drooped. If nothing else, the need of the younger wae touched her, and the black primate swung down from the trunk, purposely dropping down near the driver window. She gave the driver one last glare, one hand hooked over the window seal, taking great pleasure in the way he recoiled.
:She trotted to the trees in a bow-legged run, sprang up into the branches with the natural strength and agility of her kind. She perched on the same branch as Huitaca, some distance away, and watched with a sort of dwindling sadness as the truck drove away. Judging by her cheerful smile, the golden female felt far different from her brunette counterpart. The younger fae turned towards her elder with an expectant gaze shortly thereafter, however, waiting for instructions to negotiate this odd world. The look always discomfited Abe-Mango: so very unnatural.
:Normally, two females would not so closely associate, and they had fought when they were first introduced at the menagerie. Years had passed, and they gradually calmed and agreed to peace and became close as young siblings, keeping what distance they could but relying on each other for their social needs. Once, they had squabbled over the best perch for sleeping (one of two) or the monkey biscuits and half-rotted fruit they were fed (enough for one) but for a year now, they had dropped all aggression and let life be. The hard life showed on Huitaca: the nervousness she often displayed, her hatred for humans, the bare spots of fur where constant rubbing against her cage bars had worn away the derma. A week had been long enough to abolish sniffles and had dulled the extreme ribbiness the gibbon had previously displayed, but the fae still lacked the fit condition and endurance she would, hopefully, someday achieve.
:As for herself? Abe-Mango was little better. But she realized this nature was a two-faced thing, on one hand beautiful, perfect, free, on the other dangerous and harsh. She sighed. Well, she would not take the joy from her young companion. Let her learn the lessons later on- at least she would be free of cages. With a chipper smile she actually felt (much to her own surprise) the older female gestured broadly with one white hand. “Well? What are we waiting for? Let’s explore!”
:Huitaca giggled joyously at this directive, bouncing from their tree to the next, pulling herself onto a limb upon which three globoid oranges hung like coral promises. She snatched one, brought it to her mouth, slurped into it with the excitement of a creature who had been deprived from the joy of fresh fruit for so long that a week of free, clean food had not yet quenched her thirst for such. Abe-Mango smiled to herself and swung forward, past the other female but keeping her in sight. Her intelligent gaze took in the surroundings: the orchard looked tailored to one such as them, filled with young and exuberant fruit-bearing trees. She sighed in sudden and unexpected contentment.
:A hoot rang through the trees, and both females came to attention. Huitaca dropped her orange and swung to stand next to Abe-Mango, on alert and obviously nervous. The sound was not an angry one, however, but a noise of excitement, and besides not directed at them- no white-handed looped towards them. Inquisitive and animated, the duo swung swiftly towards the noise, wondering if perhaps this was another gibbon from their menagerie, one of the many that they had heard but never seen...: