“Humans perceive sixteen times the colors we do. Do not hide in bushes or vines from humans. They can distinguish your pelt from the foliage with ease.”
There were always things to learn. Things like, once an anomalous shape is recognised, it’s easier to spot. Dappled shadows were better to hide in and blending was important.
“Gotcha!” said the human. “You really suck at hide-and-seek, T'yrt'yr[1].”
“I followed the rules,” she objected. “And your guidelines. How is it that you keep finding me?”
“You’re a charcoal-coloured bird hiding in an ocean-grey nook. You stand out like a sore thumb.” Tor laughed, trying to show her where her wing stood out against the place where she had once hid. “See?”
“I want to surrender,” said T'yrt'yr. “I do not understand how a pale-hide like you can hide everywhere. Or how you can spot me and have different names for identical colours.”
“They look like identical colours to you,” Tor explained. “To us… not so much.”
“Please do not walk me through salmon-fuscia-rose-pink again? They all appear to be the same hue.”
“Maybe we could build a treehouse? At least then we won’t be arguing about colours.”
“Let’s play on the beach. We can collect shells.”
“Sandcastles?”
“You read my mind.”
Two children from different worlds sped together for mutual fun. One occasionally assisting the other by using their arm as a perch to throw the other to glide ahead of them.
Two friends amongst many other like them on a planet called Amity.
[1] pron: chir-chir
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