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“Nuju thanks you for inviting him to your village, Turaga Matau,” said Matoro, apprehensively. “But he warns you that he will not tolerate any pranks or foolery on your part, or on the part of your people.”

The Elder of Le-Koro shrugged. “True-promise, hearty Ice-friends. If you would just quick-follow me this way.”

Nuju let out a set of low whistles. Matoro nodded and addressed Matau again.

“Forgive me, Turaga, but Nuju wishes to know why he is so urgently needed here.”

“I would have asked water-maiden Nokama, but she is off-shore. And to be straight-frank, it would probably put us all at ease to have Ice-brother here to lend his expertise,” explained Matau, who led them across a small pathway.

“Expertise?” Matoro repeated.

The Turaga of Air brought them to the entrance of a small hut. “Let’s just say that bird-speak and Rahi-bonding may just be what we dire-need to quick-solve this predicament.”

Matoro and Nuju followed Matau into the hut. They were greeted with the sight of a Gukko bird lying on its stomach on the straw ground, surrounded by his Le-Matoran handlers. The villagers petted the creature and made some attempt to feed him, but the poor thing offered little reaction save for a weakened chirp or two.

Turaga Matau sighed. “Our winged friend has some sick-illness about him, but even our ever-best medicine-folk cannot find the cause.”

Turaga Nuju nodded, understandingly. Next to him, Matoro struggled to hold back tears. Even among the people of Le-Koro, the translator’s love for Rahi was well-known. To see one in pain was always a monumental burden for him.

Tamaru, the Kahu-handler, rose to greet the two elders and Matoro.

He threw a respectful nod their way.
"Turaga, Ice-friend, heart-sorry you have to see this,” Tamaru sadly explained. “Poor Tolu here has been sick-ill for a week now. We know not his illness, but we are doing our ever-best.”

Matau patted Tamaru on the head. “Don’t quick-lose hope, friend-Tamaru. Ice-Elder Nuju here will lend us his aid.”

The Le-Matoran courteously stepped back to give Nuju some space as the Turaga of Ice slowly approached Tolu. He studied the Rahi intensely; the droopy eye and sliver of a tear that fell down the Gukko’s face told him everything he needed to know.

Having ascertained that it was not an illness, but an injury, Nuju erupted into a series of clicks and whistles, apparently addressed to Tolu. The Le-Matoran looked at each other with confused glances. Only Matau seemed unsurprised.

Nuju ran his hand across the feathered part of Tolu’s neck. At first, everyone thought that he was trying to comfort the creature, but a closer look suggested that the Turaga was searching for something.

The Elder of Ice whistled. And this time, Tolu started to whistle back.

It was a peculiar sight for the villagers of Le-Koro to see the Turaga of Ko-Koro engage the Gukko bird in conversation. More surprisingly, Tolu appeared to understand Nuju completely and responded with his own set of chirps and whistles.

The pair had a short discourse consisting only of the sounds of bird-speak until Nuju turned around to face the gathered villagers. He emitted a very shrill caw, followed by a quick set of urgent clicks.

Matoro’s eyes widened.

“Nuju says he needs some healing oil, a numbing balm and as many bandages as we can carry. And to make haste!” translated Matoro. Suddenly, he knew what his Turaga was trying to do.

A moment later, Tamaru and his friends had returned to the hut with the numbing balm and copious amounts of leaf wrapping. Matau had also returned with a pitcher of healing oil. They were about to set themselves to work on Tolu, wherever on Tolu, until Nuju loudly squawked at them and gestured towards the ground. Sheepishly, everyone placed the gathered materials on the floor next to him.

Slowly, Nuju lathered his hands with the numbing balm and reached into an obscure depth in Tolu’s neck. He massaged into the area and waited a moment for the numbness to set in. He looked at Tolu once over to make sure that the Gukko was in a comfortable position. The Turaga searched, felt the strange obstruction deep within and swiftly, steadily, pulled. The splinter was a pale, sickly green.

Everyone recognized the insidious fragment of a Nui-Rama claw.

With the precision of one honed by years of experience, Nuju gently applied the healing oil to the region where the shard had been found. Not long after, he carefully placed the leaf-like bandages on the wound.

In a matter of minutes, Tolu slowly rose to his feet. He let out a joyful squawk.

Nuju stepped back as the overjoyed Le-Matoran rushed to embrace their feathered companion, who had regained his stability and by extension, his cheerful demeanour.

“Like I said,” Matau said, happily. “Bird-speak and Rahi-bonding. You have my heart-thanks, dearest Ice-Brother!”

Nuju chirped happily.

“Turaga says he is pleased to help,” said Matoro.

“I figured! But why the strange-tone, Matoro? Are you not well?”

Matoro paused for a moment, then spoke with a plunge. “It is nothing, Turaga. I am just glad to be in Nuju’s service.”

The Turaga of Ice patted the young translator on the back. After which, Nuju erupted into loud hoots.

Matau laughed. “Ha! More teasure-wisdom, Nuju?”

“No, Turaga Matau,” said Matoro, scratching his head. “Nuju is hungry and wants to know what is for dinner.”

Description
“Nuju thanks you for inviting him to your village, Turaga Matau,” said Matoro, apprehensively. “But he warns you that he will not tolerate any pranks or foolery on your part, or on the part of your people.”

The Elder of Le-Koro shrugged. “True-promise, hearty Ice-friends. If you would just quick-follow me this way.”

Nuju let out a set of low whistles. Matoro nodded and addressed Matau again.

“Forgive me, Turaga, but Nuju wishes to know why he is so urgently needed here.”

“I would have asked water-maiden Nokama, but she is off-shore. And to be straight-frank, it would probably put us all at ease to have Ice-brother here to lend his expertise,” explained Matau, who led them across a small pathway.

“Expertise?” Matoro repeated.

The Turaga of Air brought them to the entrance of a small hut. “Let’s just say that bird-speak and Rahi-bonding may just be what we dire-need to quick-solve this predicament.”

Matoro and Nuju followed Matau into the hut. They were greeted with the sight of a Gukko bird lying on its stomach on the straw ground, surrounded by his Le-Matoran handlers. The villagers petted the creature and made some attempt to feed him, but the poor thing offered little reaction save for a weakened chirp or two.

Turaga Matau sighed. “Our winged friend has some sick-illness about him, but even our ever-best medicine-folk cannot find the cause.”

Turaga Nuju nodded, understandingly. Next to him, Matoro struggled to hold back tears. Even among the people of Le-Koro, the translator’s love for Rahi was well-known. To see one in pain was always a monumental burden for him.

Tamaru, the Kahu-handler, rose to greet the two elders and Matoro.

He threw a respectful nod their way.
"Turaga, Ice-friend, heart-sorry you have to see this,” Tamaru sadly explained. “Poor Tolu here has been sick-ill for a week now. We know not his illness, but we are doing our ever-best.”

Matau patted Tamaru on the head. “Don’t quick-lose hope, friend-Tamaru. Ice-Elder Nuju here will lend us his aid.”

The Le-Matoran courteously stepped back to give Nuju some space as the Turaga of Ice slowly approached Tolu. He studied the Rahi intensely; the droopy eye and sliver of a tear that fell down the Gukko’s face told him everything he needed to know.

Having ascertained that it was not an illness, but an injury, Nuju erupted into a series of clicks and whistles, apparently addressed to Tolu. The Le-Matoran looked at each other with confused glances. Only Matau seemed unsurprised.

Nuju ran his hand across the feathered part of Tolu’s neck. At first, everyone thought that he was trying to comfort the creature, but a closer look suggested that the Turaga was searching for something.

The Elder of Ice whistled. And this time, Tolu started to whistle back.

It was a peculiar sight for the villagers of Le-Koro to see the Turaga of Ko-Koro engage the Gukko bird in conversation. More surprisingly, Tolu appeared to understand Nuju completely and responded with his own set of chirps and whistles.

The pair had a short discourse consisting only of the sounds of bird-speak until Nuju turned around to face the gathered villagers. He emitted a very shrill caw, followed by a quick set of urgent clicks.

Matoro’s eyes widened.

“Nuju says he needs some healing oil, a numbing balm and as many bandages as we can carry. And to make haste!” translated Matoro. Suddenly, he knew what his Turaga was trying to do.

A moment later, Tamaru and his friends had returned to the hut with the numbing balm and copious amounts of leaf wrapping. Matau had also returned with a pitcher of healing oil. They were about to set themselves to work on Tolu, wherever on Tolu, until Nuju loudly squawked at them and gestured towards the ground. Sheepishly, everyone placed the gathered materials on the floor next to him.

Slowly, Nuju lathered his hands with the numbing balm and reached into an obscure depth in Tolu’s neck. He massaged into the area and waited a moment for the numbness to set in. He looked at Tolu once over to make sure that the Gukko was in a comfortable position. The Turaga searched, felt the strange obstruction deep within and swiftly, steadily, pulled. The splinter was a pale, sickly green.

Everyone recognized the insidious fragment of a Nui-Rama claw.

With the precision of one honed by years of experience, Nuju gently applied the healing oil to the region where the shard had been found. Not long after, he carefully placed the leaf-like bandages on the wound.

In a matter of minutes, Tolu slowly rose to his feet. He let out a joyful squawk.

Nuju stepped back as the overjoyed Le-Matoran rushed to embrace their feathered companion, who had regained his stability and by extension, his cheerful demeanour.

“Like I said,” Matau said, happily. “Bird-speak and Rahi-bonding. You have my heart-thanks, dearest Ice-Brother!”

Nuju chirped happily.

“Turaga says he is pleased to help,” said Matoro.

“I figured! But why the strange-tone, Matoro? Are you not well?”

Matoro paused for a moment, then spoke with a plunge. “It is nothing, Turaga. I am just glad to be in Nuju’s service.”

The Turaga of Ice patted the young translator on the back. After which, Nuju erupted into loud hoots.

Matau laughed. “Ha! More teasure-wisdom, Nuju?”

“No, Turaga Matau,” said Matoro, scratching his head. “Nuju is hungry and wants to know what is for dinner.”