Niu

Niu arrived by sea, like all the best travelers. The coconut palm's great seed — buoyant, waterproof, provisioned for months — rides ocean currents between islands, beaching where it will, sprouting where it lands: the great voyager, colonist of a thousand shores. They have no home port and want none. "The ocean," they say, "is just a road that moves." Their crown drinks the salt wind; their roots grip sand that other trees refuse. Every part is useful — food, drink, fiber, timber, oil — which makes them the Wanderers' quartermaster: show up anywhere with everything needed. Young palms ask if the drifting isn't lonely. Niu watches another nut bob past on the current, bound for somewhere unmapped. "Lonely," they say, "is staying. I have the whole ocean for company, and it never once asked me to stay put."