It looked sturdy enough. So, he lifted his feet, placed in the hollow of the trunk, and hoisted himself upwards in one pull. Hot pain shot through the atrophied muscles in his legs.
He had forgotten he had been traveling for two days straight. Forcing himself, Nexus repeated the motions again, and again, until he came within reach of a low hanging branch. After eying it carefully, his calf tensed, and he lurched himself at it.
From there on, it was a breeze. He pulled himself upwards, steadied himself at the base of the thick branch, and swatted off the leaves blocking his view. He was all set.
And so was Monica.
Some twelve feet up in the tree, camouflaged behind the rustling green leaves, the span of Nexus' black eyes followed Monica's movements closely. From that vantage point, unblinking and unmoving, Nexus saw it all.
