“What you see and what you hear depends a great deal on where you are standing: it also depends on what sort of person you are.”

~C.S.Lewis, The Magician's Nephew

The young family finally got home and settled just as the sun set. Kurt took their tired daughter up to her bed, changing Katie into warm pajamas and giving her a kiss before going back down to make a bottle for her.

Blaine whistled for their wolf-dog, Balto, but he didn't come. Resigned, he went across the road and down the path to let Shannon know they were back home and that Katie was on the mend. Maybe his friend had seen Balto.

“Ah, home from the hill the wandering hero,” Shannon said, her face lighting up when Blaine walked in the door of the mess hall. He looked around at the shining clean space, still amazed at how Shannon could keep it so spotless after 30 lumberjacks had eaten here.

“I think you have at least three literary references mixed up in that sentence,” Blaine laughed.

“Well, it has been over 40 years since this little girl was in school, so I guess you can't expect any better,” Shannon laughed. Blaine kissed her cheek and waved at a chair for the cook to sit down.

“How is baby Katura?” Shannon asked and Blaine spent the next half hour telling his friend all about the hospital and how brave his little daughter had been. They laughed over stories of Blaine's own childhood and plans for Katie's future until Blaine glanced at his watch.

“I better get home to Kurt – I didn't realize how time was flying!”

“Okay, sweetheart, I will see you tomorrow. Oh, and I saw Balto up by Mr. Warner's office earlier today. Maybe the dog has a new soft-hearted friend?” Shannon speculated, a smirk on her face. Everyone knew Mr. Warner did not care for his daughter's wolf-dog.

“Yeah, right...” Blaine scoffed as he went out the door.

Blaine was almost home, having stopped to visit his goats that were now taken care of by Shannon and her husband, Cookie. Hugo, the big ram, was pleased to see Blaine, greeting him with a loud racket only enhanced by the three does in their pen next to Hugo's. Seeing all the goats had hay in their racks and plenty of bedding, Blaine went on to his cabin, checking that the locks were in place and nobody had broken in. He hated to have the cabin standing empty, but so far there was no reason to keep it open. With a sigh of nostalgia, he turned and jogged across the road to his house he shared with his fairy-tale husband and their lovely baby daughter.

Walking up the stairs, he walked by Katura's room, smiling at the whimsical mural of fairy tales that Kurt had painted on her wall. There were fairy tale maps painted in pastel colors as a background: the Hundred Acre Woods, Alice's Wonderland, the Lands of Oz, Prydain, Narnia, and all manner of characters. The denizens of Wind in the Willows were painted near their map along with a whole wall of favorites:, Beatrix Potter's little animals (Mrs Tiggywinkle, the chubby hedgehog, being Blaine's particular favorite), young heroes like Harry Potter and company, Meg and Charles Wallace from A Wrinkle in Time, Alex and Connor with Queen Red and Froggie from the Land of Stories, Taran, Gurgi, and Eilonwy from The Book of Three, even Lassie was on that wall. It had taken Kurt almost a month to finish that mural and Blaine was so proud his husband painted it.

Katie was not in her bed, but Blaine knew where she was likely to be. He went quietly into their bedroom and he took off his clothes, hanging up the trousers and tossing the shirt and undershirt into the hamper. He put on his jade green silk pajamas and stepped out onto the balcony and found Kurt and Katie where he thought they would be: in the hammock looking at the stars.

Settling down next to Kurt and cuddling close, a sleeping Katie between them, Blaine relaxed as Kurt sang an old Irish lullaby to lull their daughter back to sleep. Life was so good.

Two weeks later, in the mountain wilderness south of Warner Lumber Camp

“Are you sure Katie will be okay with Lenore and Puck?” Kurt asked for the third time. Blaine sighed and rolled his eyes.

“Yes. Absolutely. Grandma Sophie is with them. The doctor is on speed dial. Lenore's mother is with them this weekend. We left enough clothes, diapers, formula and every possible toy – enough to load a moving truck, I might add – for Katie. She. Will. Be. Fine.” Blaine said with the utmost patience.

“Well, if you think so, honey,” Kurt said once again. Blaine gritted his teeth and prayed he was right. If something happened, he would never live it down. He tried to think of something more pleasant to occupy his mind.

The truth was that this had been planned for six weeks. Blaine needed to go survey a stand of lumber in virgin forest and he was very excited because this was the first time he would lead the survey. It was exactly what he had been trained to do in his college classes and he was anxious to prove he could do this. He wanted to show that there could be a better way to take the right trees for lumber while leaving enough to regrow and conserve the huge swath of forest that covered three mountains.

Blaine was going to be gone for two weeks and they had not left little Katura for more than overnight since she came to be their daughter. So many nights of sleepless worry, not knowing if the oxygen hose slipped in the night, if she had managed to turn and smother in her sleep. So many wires and monitors and tubes – all connected to this tiny little girl. After her bout of pneumonia, though - to her daddies surprise - Katura began to thrive. She gained weight, got a rosy color to her skin and stopped wheezing. It was like a miracle. Blaine was sure it had something to do with feeding her goat milk instead of formula from a can.

The doctor had been so thrilled at Katura's last check-up that she suggested the daddies find a caregiver and go for a rest by themselves for a while to regain their perspective. She pointed out how important it was for parents of chronically ill children to find respite, to renew their bond and start out fresh again when they got back. Both Blaine and Kurt could see the sense in this and although it took them another few weeks to plan it, they did agree.

~

“You're going to be a good girl for Auntie Lenore and Uncle Noah, aren't you? You know Auntie Nana and Grandma Sophie will be here to love you, too,” Kurt cooed at his daughter. Along with Puck and Lenore, Mrs. Warner and Grandma Sophie would be watching over the baby. She gave him a gummy smile and waved her hand towards her daddy's mouth. Kurt grasped her tiny fist between his lips, giving her a gentle tug and his eyes twinkled as Katie got a bigger grin on her face. She wiggled all over, so happy to be with her daddy.

“Say 'Tatay' for me”, he whispered in her ear. Katie wasn't old enough to speak yet, and Kurt was always encouraging her to say 'Daddy' when Blaine was around, but in his heart of hearts he wished she would say Blaine's name first. The picture of how thrilled he would be was in Kurt's mind and he wanted that to happen. He gave Katie another smile and hugged her tiny body close.

While he and Blaine had wanted a child, he had not imagined it would be like this. The love that one wee girl brought to their marriage was incomprehensible. This baby was a miracle and Kurt would spend the rest of his life being grateful they were blessed to be her parents.

“Hey, is she still awake? I thought you brought her in for her nap?” Blaine said as he entered the room. Kurt smiled at his husband, love shining from his face as he leaned back in the rocking chair so Blaine could kiss him.

“She is getting sleepy – I just wanted to say goodbye.”

“Yeah, I know how you feel. I don't want to leave her, either, but Dr. Wallace thinks we need to get used to leaving her once in a while. This is the perfect opportunity...” Blaine said, leaving the thought unfinished as he was distracted by Katie yawning.

“Okay, Tatay...put her in her bed and we'll get going,” Kurt said, handing the baby to her other father.

~

Once Blaine pried Kurt away from their daughter in Philomath, they went back to their home to get mules and pack for the trip into the wilderness.

On Russell Mountain, one peak south of Warner Lumber Camp

“Oh....” Kurt breathed, his mouth open as he shifted his seat on the mule as they rode over a rise and saw the untouched beauty of the Oregon wilderness spread out below them.

“Yeah, what else could you possibly say to describe this?” Blaine whispered. The forest surrounding the men was breathtaking. Kurt had been living in the woods near the Warner Lumber Camp for a number of years and he and Blaine had gone camping in that same forest for all of those years. That forest seemed wild to Kurt – but this was......more. So much more. The land around the home camp had been occupied for decades, if not a full century. The forest near the lumber camp may have appeared wild on first look, but there was evidence of occupation everywhere, from the cabins and dining hall to the barns and equipment, it was a tamed wild place.

Since the turn of the nineteenth century, loggers had been coming to the Pacific Northwest as soon as the timber in the Midwest began to dwindle. Washington and Oregon were sources of over 30% of the nation's lumber as far back as 1890. Brayden Warner was descended from a long line of landowners that had purchased millions of acres by 1900. In that time, they had only logged a small 12% of the land owned by the Warner family.

Brayden's decision to expand the harvest of his timbers was mostly for conservation, with perhaps a bit for profit margins. Thinning some of the old-growth forests was one way to keep forest fires at bay. Removing the dead and dying trees took away some of the dangers, though not all of them.

Blaine had been talking to Brayden about thinning some of the old growth out of the forest on the next mountain over from the logging camp. There were ways to make a large profit while still maintaining the forest. Brayden had never been one of those timberland owners that clearcut an entire side of a mountain just for profit. He wanted to save the land he had been blessed to inherit and he wanted to make it a lasting legacy to his descendants.

Brayden was thrilled when Blaine had gone to college to learn about forestry because he'd thought of the Anderson brothers as his own children. When Blaine and Kurt had adopted Katie, then Lenore announced her engagement to Noah Puckerman, his thoughts had turned to what was going to become of the land in the future. He wanted to leave the next generation something to be proud of, not a naked mountain.

~

Even though Blaine was raised in the forest near Warner Camp, this pristine, untouched forest was very much a different world to him. The trees grew so close together it was impossible to go quickly through them. Animals here had probably never seen a man and were less afraid than the typical deer on Warner mountain who had grown up in the sight and sound of man.

“Do you hear that?” asked Kurt, still whispering. Blaine looked over and lifted a brow in question.

“The chirping noise? Maybe a cricket?” Kurt asked, but Blaine smiled. Kurt was restless in the saddle and Claudius, his mule, felt it - shifting his weight from hoof to hoof in agitation. The animal was tired and hungry and was semi-patiently waiting for Kurt to remove his bridle so he could browse in the forest plants.

“I think it's a brown creeper. Do you mean that tiny, soft chirp at a slow beat?” Blaine asked and Kurt nodded, pointing a finger to the direction the bird's voice was coming from. Blaine cocked his head to the right, then pointed slightly to the north of where his husband was sitting. “Creepers are so interesting, they circle around trees in a spiral, holding on with their claws and looking for tiny insects in the tree bark - then taking only about two cheeps before looking for more insects. Brown creepers go up a tree when foraging, which is the opposite of nuthatches who go down a tree when foraging.”

“Is that one a nuthatch? The one over there that looks like you?” Kurt asked, a teasing smirk on his face.

Blaine squinted his eyes and followed where Kurt had pointed.

“That one with the lemon yellow crest? That little kinglet is the only bird I see there,” Blaine said, looking puzzled.

“Yep. See the large, dark, expressive eyebrows?” Kurt said, grinning.

“I do not have 'large' eyebrows!” Blaine said, affronted.

“Okay. I guess you're right. That bird's eyebrows are not triangular. Sorry...” Kurt said smugly, his smile still firm on his face.

Blaine rolled his eyes and chirped at Caesar to go on down the deer track. His eyes were drinking in all the shades of green he had ever seen in a forest. There were plants of all kinds: trees of every description, shrubs, flowers, and herbs. The man scanned the brush beside the path and could pick out a dozen medicinal and edible plants. He couldn't control the smile on his face as he looked back at his husband. Kurt grinned back, enthralled by the beauty of the forest.

After riding another quiet mile, Blaine stopped his mule.

“Caesar, whoa old boy,” Blaine said, looking around for a moment and putting his finger to his lips. Kurt pulled back on Claudius's reins to bring the mule to a stop. Maximus, the pack mule, wasn't far behind. Wearing a halter instead of a bridle, he dropped his head down to browse the green plants.

“Should we look for a place to set up camp for the night?” Blaine asked, looking at the sky – or what sky he could see between the close-growing pines and aspens. “It doesn't look like a storm, but with those clouds we might get a light rain.”

“Sure – I think the mules are getting tired,” Kurt said. The truth was that his ass was sore from being on mule back. It had been ages since the two had ridden mules through the woods and Kurt was out of shape. He gritted his teeth to keep quiet. He didn't want Blaine to know how saddle sore he was. He'd never live it down if Blaine found out.

They rode another hundred feet before finding a little clearing where they could pitch their tent, not too far from where an underground spring emerged from the rocks. Kurt and Blaine had pitched camp so many times they were well practiced and didn't take very long to have everything set up and a fire started. They busied themselves around the small campsite – setting the bed rolls in the tent, dragging a large log over to use as a seat by the fire, getting a space clear of dry brush and setting rocks in a circle to make a space for the fire. Kurt walked around the camp picking up kindling and dry branches to make a fire for cooking supper.

“Hey, Blaine – could you come over here?” Kurt asked, standing in front of a medium-sized tree. He was studying the tree when his husband walked up in back of him. Blaine put his arms around Kurt's waist and leaned his chin on his shoulder.

“What's up, babe?”

“Have you ever seen a tree like that?” Kurt cocked his head to one side, trying to figure out what it was that made the tree so unusual. Blaine took advantage of having more neck exposed to him and leaned forward to place a nibbling kiss on Kurt's neck. As predicted, Kurt giggled and tried to get away, but Blaine was holding him tight and continued to kiss the tender skin of his husband's neck. Kurt growled and Blaine backed off – although he didn't stop holding Kurt's waist.

“Yes, I have,” he said.

“Have what?” Kurt asked, his eyes a bit dilated and his gaze beginning to get fuzzy.

“I have seen a tree like that. Remember, you just asked me if I'd seen one before,” Blaine laughed, thinking it was funny that a few well-placed kisses could cloud Kurt's concentration so quickly. Kurt shook his head a little, trying to clear his mind.

“Oh...yeah. The tree. I haven't seen one like this,” he said again. The tree in question seemed to be an evergreen – but very different than most pine, fir, or spruce trees. It had spiked leaves growing in rows on branches that ended in what looked almost like artichokes. The branches were growing in a haphazard pattern, not like most trees whose branches had some sort of balanced order to them.

“It just looks out of place, you know? Like Dr Seuss drew it,” Kurt giggled. Blaine smiled, he loved Kurt's giggle. It was one of the first things Blaine had fallen in love with when they met – that light laugh that sounded like bells ringing.

“Yes, I suppose it does. Actually, that tree is not native to the Pacific Northwest at all. It is from Peru,” Blaine told Kurt, happy he knew the story behind it.

“Really? Why would someone plant that tree here – a place that looks like nobody has ever set foot?” Kurt asked, a look of innocent wonder on his face. Blaine practically swooned as he watched Kurt. That was another reason he'd fallen for the boy he found being thrown from the freight train so long ago. So many things about Kurt intrigued him and the more he knew Kurt, the longer that list became. He looked up, realizing Kurt was expecting an answer.

“Oh...the first of those trees – they are called Monkey Puzzle trees – was brought to the mouth of the Columbia River on the Corps of Discovery Expedition by Lewis and Clark. I don't know where they got Peruvian tree seeds in Missouri, but when they reached the mouth of the Columbia River and built a winter camp, they planted handfuls of the seeds. Over the next two centuries the trees have propagated and are now all over the Pacific Coast forests.,” Blaine carefully explained.

[A/N: Seriously, if you are not familiar with Monkey Puzzle Trees, Google it!]

“Wow, like living history. Makes you feel....I don't know...connected to the history of it, doesn't it?” Kurt commented. He was about to ask another question concerning the trees when Maximus started braying and both men turned to see what was going on.

“He just wants to be let lose to eat,” Blaine said, stepping over to the pack mule to remove his burden before putting on a long picket line and driving it into the ground to keep Max from wandering away.

“We'll have to keep a close watch on the mules – the picket ropes could get caught in the dense brush and tree branches easily,” Blaine said, although Kurt probably knew that. Blaine was forever telling Kurt things he had already learned years ago but Blaine thought he needed reminding. Kurt rolled his eyes fondly at his husband and kissed his cheek.

“I'll start some bacon frying if you want to finish picketing the mules and then scout out something edible?” Kurt offered.

Kurt was perfectly capable of fishing for anything in the river – preferably trout – and foraging for edibles. He could find fiddle-head ferns, cattail roots, and all sorts of berries. He didn't trust himself yet to pick mushrooms but Blaine was a master at that, so Kurt left it to him.

About twenty minutes later, Blaine returned with several squirrels, a pouch full of chicken-in-the-woods mushrooms, and some kind of roots that looked like pale, gnarled carrots.

“What are those?” Kurt asked.

“Pacific silverweed. We can put them in the coals and the skins will come off when they're cooked. I also found some ribwort plantain – we can make a tea of that and bathe your mosquito bites - and a few elderberries,” Blaine handed over the plants to Kurt and walked away to gut the squirrels far from their camping spot. He didn't want to draw bears or wolves – or wolverine. They lived in these woods in uninhabited parts anyway.

A few hours later they sat on the large log in front of the tent, drinking the tea Kurt had brewed when they got back from exploring the nearby forest.

“I really like your squirrel stew, Kurt. It smells delicious,” Blaine grinned. He'd eaten more than his fair share of squirrel stew over the years and Kurt made a good job of the stew. Kurt rolled his eyes good-naturedly. He knew how hungry Blaine got when they went camping in the forest.

“Thank you. And thank you for the elderberries – they were good mixed with the blackberries I picked while you were gone,” Kurt offered, trying to capture his husband's attention.

Blaine stirred up the fire and placed two more large logs on it to burn. It was mid-summer but the night tended to get cool if not downright cold at this elevation. Blaine looked up to see Kurt open his arms and Blaine didn't hesitate before he climbed into his husband's embrace. He sat quietly on Blaine's lap in front of the blazing fire and settled down. With both men comfortable and sharing their warmth, they sat for a long time just enjoying the sights, sounds, and smells of the forest.

“I guess I better stir supper,” Kurt said. Their small camp was very isolated and they hadn't seen a single footprint in the soft sand of the forest floor since they began to climb up the deer track on this mountain.

“Shall we take a bit of an explore?” Kurt asked. He got up and held out a hand to Blaine.

“We can check around here while supper cooks,” Blaine suggested and led the way to the edge of their campsite. Blaine had set their big iron kettle over the fire and added water. Kurt added a few vegetables they had brought with them: onions, carrots, celery, and parsnips, plus some seasoning in the form of pepper, salt, bay leaves, and garlic. This was a bit of a change since the two men had been camping but change is good sometimes.

While looking for watercress to add to the stew, Kurt leaned over a submerged log in a small pond and came out with his hand cupping fifty or more tiny frogs.

They were so darling, all jumping around on Kurt's arm and down onto his lap. He held them, studying the tiny creatures, until one brave little guy jumped to Kurt's arm and crawled up his shirt sleeve. Blaine's ears were ringing after being too close to Kurt's steam-whistle screech.

“Hey, babe – they're only frogs!”

“Sorry, Blaine. It kinda startled me, crawling up my shirt like that,” Kurt apologized. He shifted his weight on the log where he sat, scooting closer to Blaine and giving him a kiss. Blaine relaxed into Kurt's embrace and got more serious about the kissing – he'd been thinking about kissing Kurt for the last half hour. Then suddenly.....Kurt pulled the neck of Blaine's shirt open and shook his other hand, prompting a dozen or so tiny frogs to spill down his husband's shirt.

Blaine's high-pitched squeal was louder than his husband's and Kurt started to giggle. Blaine stood up abruptly, shaking his torso and pulling the shirt off over his head to get rid of the frog invasion. Kurt could see the goose-bumps all over Blaine's chest and shoulders – which made him laugh all the more.

“Okay, I guess I deserved that,” Blaine admitted, a shy smile gracing his lips. “Where were we?” he asked, reaching out to steady Kurt on the large log and then sat down next to him. He pulled his husband closer and closed his eyes, their lips touching and all of the giggles gone from Kurt's mouth.

It was a long kiss, lips silently exploring and arms tightening. Even after seven years, Blaine and Kurt still could not get enough of one another. They kissed for a while, hearts pumping and breath coming deeper, before Blaine leaned back to break the oral connection. He had to catch his breath and from the looks of things Kurt did, too.

“I need to check on supper- save my place, okay?” Kurt kidded. He went over to the fire and stirred the stew with a wooden spoon. Licking the gravy off of the spoon, Kurt smiled and gave Blaine a wink. It had turned out very well with thick savory onion gravy, vegetables that were not overcooked but almost melted in their mouthes, and the meat was caramelized a rich golden brown and cooked to delicious tenderness.

Blaine started to laugh, holding his hand in front of his face so the stew would not come bursting from his mouth. They finally simmered down and went back to eating. Kurt lifted an eyebrow to ask what was so funny.

“Remember the first time I made you squirrel stew?” Blaine asked, his eyes twinkling at the memory.

“Yes, I do! I had just eaten a bowl of it and told you how much I liked the chicken,” Kurt replied, a sheepish grin on his face.

“Oh, the look on your face when I told you what it really was!” Blaine laughed, putting his hand on Kurt's shoulder and giving him an affectionate squeeze.

“Well, we could talk about all of your firsts when we went to Ohio. I loved it when I took you to the mall and we came across an escalator...” Kurt countered. Blaine rolled his eyes and blushed. He had never seen or heard of the moving stairs and he was fascinated. He'd refused to get on until he saw several others go up the escalator before he would try.

“Okay, okay...let's just eat,” he said, taking a bite of the golden “chicken-of-the-woods” mushroom. Kurt just smiled and continued on with his meal, too.

When they were done, Blaine took the tin dishes down to the stream and rinsed them off. He intended to wait for later to wash them, but his hands were doing all the work before he could shake himself to clear his thoughts. Done with the chore, he turned to look across the clearing to see something going on in the tent. There were bumps and thumps and a string of cursing coming from the little shelter. With a grin on his face, Blaine walked over to see if he could help.

“Everything okay in there?” he asked, trying to keep the mirth from his voice.

Kurt appeared at the opening, his hair a mess, his clothes wrinkled and a frown on his face.

“Who packed the sleeping bags?” he asked. Blaine pointed at him.

“I thought you did?”

“Nope. They hadn't been aired out from last time we went camping and they smell like fish. Plus they were not rolled neatly – they were both all scrunched up and now we have to sleep in them,” he grouched, pulling the offending bags back out of the tent.

“Let's hang them from the trees and let them freshen up, we still have plenty of time before we go to bed, honey. And I think we loaned the bags to Nicky and Jeff last month...right?” Blaine asked.

“Yes, that's what happened. I guess we can be thankful they didn't camp on the beach, we'd be picking sand burrs and shaking gritty sand from them now,” Kurt huffed.

The two men took their bed things and hung them from low branches to let the breeze go to work. Kurt took a big gulp of air and stretched, then rubbed his stomach. He loved the smell of the pine forest.