"Because she is her mother's daughter."
She woke to find herself covered in brush. Her jacket's outer shell was blasted with gritty sand and wet with dew. The instrument panel that had ridden out the storm tucked into her jacket still worked. Seifert looked like he had gone through the washing machine's rinse cycle. After the storm's passage, the temperature had dropped, and the forest was hushed with fog. It would not take long for the sun to burn it off. Fat-bodied lizards emerged from their hiding places and licked the leaves. She pulled herself clear. The branches had a spongy bark, and the needles were soft. Seifert leaped ahead, moving from branch to branch, his head traversing slowly, scanning for threats. She heard a plaintive mewling and saw the Aranyani.
The Aranyani lay pinned
