In the afternoon she gets a cut hand and a mostly-healed broken nose.

Yay! Those are injuries!

They are!

Segda dives under a tablecloth-bearing offering table at the nearest shrine when the group of five adult strangers passes into view. The priest coughs.

"I apologize. It's sensibly avoiding a big spat with the older ones, I think."

"Did you take it from them? It's not a good idea to interfere too much with their affairs."

"No, I found it in the woods up near Yarisong. I've never met an adult one."

"Then why's it hiding?"

"It might have met the adult ones. I don't know. I don't really know much about them as a species - I know this one well but I don't know when it's difficult because it's a child and when it's difficult because it's a stranger. Why shouldn't one meddle with them?"

"Hard to smooth things over afterwards, nobody wants a fight."

"Do you know of an example?"

"An example of what?"

"A dispute with them, or a point of contention, or a thing to look out for..."

"Oh - hm - once some years back they talked to a novice Yi'a, became confused about the widespreadness of vegetarianism, suddenly stopped selling chickens, there wasn't much violence over that but it was tense..."

" - huh."

"Or, we assume they were confused, it's hard to tell with them." He nudges Segda with his foot. It squeaks.

"I suspect they don't have internal - variance in which gods they worship or how they interpret their teachings. I bet they thought that we didn't either."

"Is that what it said? There have been wars of strangers against strangers."

"Within communities, or between them?"

"I don't recall. No one can tell them apart."

"Mmmm." Are the adult ones out of view.

No, they're moving slowly, talking to someone who might be their human interpreter.

Great. "Segda, let's go outside."

"No no no," says Segda's voice, very small.

"They won't tell you to do stuff, they might not even speak the same language as you."

"No no no no no no no."