Though rendered immobile by the palm tree he was attached to, Oryad’s first few memories remain a summery haze. Direct sun with little shade. Salty breezes that stung the skin. The hot, hot sand.  A spindly palm bowed under the weight of Oryad and several round fuzzy things. Like him, they were stuck. He felt a kinship.

Then came liberation. Though he didn’t know how, he was free -- unlatched -- but with it came an unwanted side effect. When the palm sprang back to its normal upright position, Oryad’s coconut family was slingshotted into the ocean.

Grief-stricken, he paced the perimeter of the tiny island to look for clues to find his coconuts. Walking through the shifty sands fruitlessly tired him, and he grew frustrated and slightly dizzy from walking in circles. He had an epiphany soon after he laid down to rest and made a few sand angels: Perhaps he didn’t need to find them, but follow them instead. Drinking rainwater from woven fronds and shaking some coconuts out of other trees to liberate them, in a few days he had himself a little raft (It was more akin to a glorified kickboard)!

A day or so at sea, in between naps Oryad could see something in the horizon- a much bigger island than the one he left. And it seemed a moving island was headed in the same direction. Upon it nearing him, he was delighted to find that this island was made of trees, just like him. When the ship drew too close, he shouted the only word he knew.

"ORIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAD!"

Mistaking him for a child, the crew threw him a line. Once on board, the sailors were taken aback by what Oryad actually was. Figuring any creature that came from the sea and talked was bad news, Oreo was thrown back to the waves.

Or so they thought.

Grabbing onto a small window on the side of the boat, with all his strength Oryad pulled himself through the small space, landing in a dim pantry filled with dried meats and other perishables. After a hearty snack and nap, he realized the crates in the room were filled with what else but coconut brethren, too many to count! Then and there, he knew this place was where he belonged, among the liberated coconuts.

When the sailors walked into the pantry, they rediscovered the tree rat embracing their cargo. After dragging him out by his ponytail and threatening to tie an anchor to his feet, his screaming and tears were finally enough to convince them that he was nothing more than a shrimpy pest.

Taking pity, they allowed him to stay in return for [heavily supervised] labor, giving him the moniker “Oryad” after the word he yelled at them. They figure they can collect some kind of reward for discovering a new species. Oryad enjoys his current occupation as a coconut stacker, knowing he will no longer be thrown off.