Aviah
Legacy Name: Aviah

She unwrapped her body in a luxurious stretch, taking the time to feel every muscle from her ever-twitching nose to her velvet-soft tail that never failed her in a leap from one branch to the next. Morning was her favorite time of day. The sun beat down on the home tree and revealed a treasure trove of tasty snacks to fill her stores and her belly and the night predators were safely tucked into their own nests.

A strange sound reached her ears as she was preparing for her first leap of the day. It wasn't birdsong yet it held notes of that cheery, mindless tune the feathered creatures were always singing. With an inquisitive flick of her tail, Aviah set out to determine the source.

Three easy leaps brought her to the giant oak that had long been a friend to the squirrels. She poked her head around the trunk, ready to whisk out of sight into the thick clusters of leaves above at the first sign of danger.

She had seen the occasional human passing through on their way to the distant village but never had she seen one like this. His skin-furs were all bright shades of pink and green, like a walking flower. Atop his head was a strange mushroom with an acorn on its front. That same symbol was on the box he carried. Clever humans could somehow walk on their rear paws while carrying food with the front ones. She had tried the trick a few times when she was sure there were no animals around and fallen flat on her face.

The human would pause every now and then to peek at whatever he was concealing in the box. Aviah couldn't resist trying to get a look of her own. She leaned forward on the branch a little further...a little more...

Plop!

To this day she maintains that she did not lose her grip. Even the oldest, most tottering squirrel in the world never loses his grip on the tree. The bark in that particular spot must've taken storm damage and was weaker than it should've been. Yes. That's obviously the only explanation that fits.

In the moment, when she looked up and met the gaze of that startled human, she was too terrified to consider the brown and white goo plastered to her beautiful fur. She only had a thought for getting away. She waited until she was a good seven trees clear before her heart started to slow down and the heavy stickiness came to her attention.

She wriggled her nose in disgust. What was this sticky stuff that was heavier than water yet lighter than mud? She gave it an experimental sniff, then a lick...

Before she knew it, she had licked her entire coat clean and was lying back in the crook of a branch, sighing her satisfaction. She didn't have a name for chocolate pie with whipped cream so in her mind the human treat became known as the Sweet Sticky.

She just couldn't take an interest in boring acorns and hazelnuts after the delicious sweetness she'd experienced. Despite the dangers, she was determined to set out and find the Giant Acorn Place where there would surely be more Sweet Sticky to sample.

Leaving the safety of the forest was the hardest part. Why did humans insist on living in large open spaces where any hawk or eagle could swoop down at a moment's notice and make a meal of an unsuspecting squirrel? The metal human trees with their many eyes were better though still plenty scary. She dived behind dumpsters and perched atop statues, studying every human tree with strict attention.

One had white pillars that looked like trees with trunks but no branches. The humans that came out of this one were all wearing dark-colored furs with strips of fur hanging from their necks or long flowing furs that nearly dragged along the ground. Another was closer to the ground with humans in white furs and other humans that smelled of sickness. She made a wide detour around this place. Most human ills wouldn't do her any harm but she'd always been warned what dirty creatures humans were and this place of metal and concrete would offer no healing herbs should she catch ill.

Acorn Baked Goods came into sight at last. She scouted the whole building, deciding on a truck to fit her purpose. Though the monstrous thing made frightening noises, it was helpless without a human to control its motion and she determined that it was (mostly) harmless. She kept to the shadows of the wall, not letting the humans see her as she darted from one metal support beam on the roof to another. She could smell apples and blueberries but these didn't interest her in the slightest. What use had she for fruits she could harvest herself when somewhere in this building was the miracle of chocolate and whipped cream?

The scent hit her suddenly, like a strong wind determined to knock her out of the home tree. There it was!

A strange device brought the chocolate pies whisking past in a line, creaking and shuddering with every pie it sent on its way.

She found a low-hanging beam that would fit her needs. Using her tail as a scoop, she dipped down into the center of three pies, bringing up gobs of tasty treat that promptly went into her mouth. Her only regret was that she could not save some of the stuff for winter. As soon as it went into her mouth, it began to dissolve.

The humans caught her on the third. There was much yelling and smacking of hands, sending her up into the safety of the highest beams.

It wasn't the first time a creature had gotten in through the back door. They tried all the usual tricks, even bringing in a pest control specialist that went away again with a red face. None of their traps could tempt that squirrel to come down from the nest she was building of discarded sacking.

It was on the third day of the Squirrel-tastrophe (as one of the advertising interns had dubbed it) that the delivery boy returned to work from a visit to his grandmother. It was his idea that they try a box trap with one of their double-layer chocolate pies. The executives were ready to try anything at that point.

Aviah fell in love with the sugary mound and was shocked when the foolish humans put it out right in the center of the floor as they shut off all the lights. She was suspicious at first. Why would humans waste such a glorious treat? She had seen the way they reacted when their own food fell on the floor. Could it be this Sweet Sticky was poisoned somehow?

Her instincts were screaming at her to remain where she was but she was hungry enough to ignore them for once.

There certainly wasn't anything wrong with the taste of the Sweet Sticky. She meant to only try a nibble but that one pawful of cream soon turned into an empty pie plate. She was too stuffed and content to even notice the box that had fallen down around her.

The boy had volunteered to stay late. He went in and caged the sleeping squirrel with a grunt of satisfaction.

She woke in a place that smelled of humans. The wire cage was large enough to allow her running room and let out into a larger cage outside. She recognized the scent of the boy on everything in the place. She should have been scared out of her wits but in the little food dish, along with sunflower seeds and acorns, was a small dollop of whipped cream.

She soon grew used to the human smell. The boy would bring her treats every time he walked past. One day he unlocked the outer door to the cage. She started to run for the distant forest...then paused and looked back.

Out there she would fight for every mouthful of food and live in constant fear of the many creatures that could eat her. Here food was abundant and sleep was never interrupted by a warning scream. She flicked her tail in indecision.

The slice of chocolate pie that magically appeared on the kitchen floor made up her mind. Mother Nature offered freedom but the best she had to offer couldn't outdo the indulgence of whipped cream.