"Ah, what dost we here?" As the little man who's appearance seems to mock whatever is around him. "Why tis it a babe?" with a voice that sounds like a child's voice with a old man's accent looks down upon the babe, Keybonesabi. "Aye, tis a babe. A very special one indeed. But these woods are not where you are to be, are they?" He cackles, "The Great Shirotasama has bungled it again! Heh heh heh. Indeed." The little man plucks the babe, Keybonesabi from his nest, wrapped in a blanket and slung over his shoulder. "Tis well? Now grunting won't get you what you want there, now will it. Ah tis much for you to learn, much to learn."

With that the little old man defies law of being old and leaps from tree to ground back to tree, swinging as if he knew he was doing so. "Ah Keybonesabi, the place you ought to be is a place that will demand your strength, agility, skill, wisdom, and charisma. But no place was that where Shirota left you. Not there. Why you will only know how to talk to crickets staying there. Ah we must find a good place for you." The man's appearance starts to appear to the jostled babe as if the man were some sort of clown. With his patches all over his clothes. His eyes just as if he were an owl. His arms looking as if they belonged to a stick man. And his feet looking as if they were owned by a giant.

"Ah, dost thou wish leave. No no, must stay wit'n pouch." Without an obvious movement the free falling babe appeared back in the pouch of this tiny little man with his plaid clothes. As the trees and the ground flowed swiftly past the pair, the little man continued his constant nagging at the Great Shirotasama and telling the babe of the dangers of leaving the pouch. From tree to tree, and tree to ground, from ground to tree and tree through bush to ground and through again, and the occasional startled rabbit or mouse scurrying for its hole, found a yawn from the babe and into the babe's slumber as the trees and the ground and the bushes and the animals passed by him. The little man continued his bounds and leaps and trots and steps as if he were dancing to a different song in each step. "Ah a merry little jig to settle me into..." With a sudden stop the little old man disappears, and in his place a bush with the odd networked colors with the babe placed at waist height as if he were in a crib. A shake from the bush wakes the baby from his sleep, finding it hungry, and so inducing a cry from the babe.