Tiktik’s telepathic avatar frowns at me and states, “You two have something going on, and I guess I was out for it, can you fill me in later?”

I gulp, before hesitantly responding, “Um, later, maybe. I, I apparently have to stop thinking for a bit. Maybe just focus on doing. It’s—. It’s hard. Yeah, stuff happened. I—. I don’t know how to deal, and it’s worse for—. I, I can’t say right now. Sorry Kitten.”

Tiktik grumps, “Big Tee isn’t letting me in, and you’re about to shut me out too, aren’t you? Is there anything I could say to prevent that?”

There’s a long, long pause as Tiktik’s telepathic avatar taps her foot while wearing a frown. I’m struggling to quiet my thoughts in general. I can’t manage a response as I ponder deeply while staring at the adorable woman. I barely manage to maintain a neutral expression as I attempt to let my subconscious take control, so that I can stop thinking.

In meatspace, kobolds begin filtering in from the warrens tunnel structure in the meanwhile. Gnawing on my lip in meatspace and thinkspace, I shrug unhelpfully, frowning, tearing up. I have to try to not process my thoughts, or think. I was given an, well not an order, but a request. The request is difficult, quieting my thoughts has always been difficult, shutting them off entirely seems almost impossible. I lapse into nearly guttural sub-vocalization of my thoughts: need stop thinking.

Tiktik interrupts, “Then don’t think Tiger, but please, talk to me? About anything, it doesn’t really matter. I can feel something off, but we don’t have to talk about it if you don’t wanna. Like, there’s so many new people around to prank, but, well, I guess this really wouldn’t be the time to startle people.” Tiktik pauses, and sighs huffily, before adding, “I don’t want to stop being myself, you’ve got no idea how much self control I’m exerting.”

I stifle a chuckle, barely. Trying not to be cynical or rude, as genuinely as I can, I telepathically respond, “Thank you Kitten. Truly. For your self control, for being here, for sticking with us, for everything. As far as talking, and new people? Well, I can point out who’s who that I know at least. Elder is, well, the elder of the clan, he’s that one there. Miza is over there by the entrance. Dippy has their title, ‘The Bravest Amongst Us’, he’s over there, with his little rock-drake, Zippy. Um, that one hauling the weird contraptions is Scrap. Timbik, Miza’s husband is, uh, over that way, shying away from me. I think I scared him when he attacked me while I was down, and I still managed to display overwhelming force. I think I may have blown a hole in his foot, I can’t recall. He’s a bully, and a coward, but he’s married to Dippy’s egg-twin sister, so I don’t want to start anything. Miza and Dippy are great.”

The speed at which the kobolds of The Gap organize under Elder’s leadership is downright astounding. I barely have time to say hello to Scrap and Miza while they work together with groups and divide up labor. Miza brings the exit wall down slightly, allowing a cool breeze into the cavern, refreshing the stuffy air. Tiktik is still bedridden in the carriage, but I can hear her gasp at the literal breath of fresh air from within. Even Hellga stirs slightly at the sudden change in air quality and temperature.

My particular state during this current ordeal is leaving me with time to think. I know I’m not supposed to, but my brain just doesn’t shut off. I can at least focus on the moment, or the near future. I’m not certain how to interact in kobold society, but that’s nothing new honestly. All my lives I’ve been searching for something, something never came, never led to anything. I couldn’t build my community, couldn’t draw people to a safe haven, because by the time I found enough people, it was a refugee effort, an escape. Not long after that, I was on the trail of multiple apocalyptic scenarios. Now I’m on a world where there are still some cities standing, and even still I haven’t had a chance to settle down and learn how to be a member of society. So, when I want to talk, I need to plan carefully what I’m going to say, how I’m going to act.

Hm, odd. Measuring my responses, gauging my social interactions, planning them in advance—. Somehow this seems incredibly familiar. Yet I’ve hardly had any social interactions in all two of my lives. Haven’t I? Can’Z’aas was more wilderness than anything else. When I was in Eimsas was about the only time when I had to even pretend to try to adhere to a human-society’s social norms. I know I have practice doing this, somehow. Or at least think I do. There’s some vague memory--. Oh, wait, stop thinking. Huff, I sigh for a long while and breathe deeply. I know I could be useful in some manner or other, but I need to recuperate, and I don’t want to get in the kobolds’ way as they organize.

I glance once, lovingly, longingly at Teuila, catching sight of her as she changes her armaments about to best suit her. I just nod, almost submissively, as our gazes catch one another momentarily. No, not submissively, that’s the wrong word. Sympathetically, understandingly, almost sadly. I crawl into the carriage, forcing my motions through electrokinetic nerve manipulation, shakily, jerkily.

I find myself situating myself across from Tiktik, as I summon the ghostly steeds at its fore, leaving them for Teuila to hitch. She’s going to want to be alone, driving. Tiktik and I busy ourselves attempting to use our magic to mend what damage we can that the carriage has sustained. After a few moments of telepathic silence, perhaps minutes of activity, Tiktik cautiously floats herself into the seat next to me, and stares me in the eyes.

With one fang sticking out as she grins my way, she almost playfully, almost pleadingly asks, “Fae-fection?”

I can’t help smiling and feeling the faintest flutter in my heart. I’m blessed to have loving, loyal, affectionate friends at my side. I nod at Tiktik, and lean to one side as she lays partially on my chest, and lap, laying longways across the seat. Tiktik wraps one arm partially around my waist as she buries her face in my abdomen. We’re both still recovering from injuries, and Tiktik’s will take much longer to heal, so sharing what little physical comfort we can in the meanwhile just makes sense. I cringe as a spasm in my neck pinches and twists a muscle. Flexing my jaw to try to unlock the twisted muscle, I immediately regret pulling on that region of my neck.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

The pain dazes me with its intensity, and its intermittent pulses. Hell, I’m glad I’m not driving the carriage at the moment. This is nearly knocking me out. I know it’s partially due to my cored-out nervous-system, though it’s not like twitching hasn’t always been a part of my life. Muscle spasms mostly crept in while I was having terror attacks, trauma flashbacks. Sometimes in high-stress situations they’d just happen. I could involuntarily lose some control over one of my arms, and it might twitch, spasm, or possibly even flail wildly. This spasm just happened to be in an egregiously sensitive location in my neck.

Heaving a sigh, I close my eyes and try not to focus on it. Crap. Two-ton elephant in the room that is my train of thought now is sitting at the helm of the train. Don’t think about it? Guess what I’m thinking about. Blargh. Pain, pain, pain. Huff, whatever. I should be used to it by now. Electrocuted, burned, blown up, crushed, melted, poisoned, slashed, stabbed, psionically assaulted, mana residue sickness, I’ve certainly felt a lot of pains. Why is an acute pain so attention grabbing though? Breathing deeply and sighing, I realize why of course. Because I’m on the mend, and not hurting all that much, but I feel guilty for not hurting all that much, so even a single inconvenient pain is something to focus on. Subconsciously, maybe a part of me feels like I deserve to have that pain be the only thing I can concentrate on, I don’t know. It’s okay though, move forward despite it, despite everything.

Glancing around with the senses available to me, I try to paint the scene in my mindscape. The occasional crackle of lightning, and rumble of thunder echoes through the entrance tunnel, and the barest flickering of light reaches this deep, as flashes of lightning reflect and bounce off of the surfaces of the tunnel. There are roughly seventy five kobolds, counting all the younglings who are situated quite near the back. There’s a couple dozen soul-stolen canine and lupine creatures, led by a single wolf, who follows Dippy unflinchingly. The sleek form of the lead wolf has just enough musculature that it’s easy to distinguish from an average dog, but is lean enough to indicate that he hasn’t been eating great recently. His fur hangs limp against his sides, and his tail is stiff in its alertness.

Despite the weariness evident in the wolf, he’s still a leader to all those creatures with no drive, no soul, no ambition or imperative. He gives them purpose, a pack in each other. It strikes me that philosophically, they’re just bags of meat and bone, wandering around with no personality. And yet? And yet they stick together in a pack, somehow the curse didn’t wipe them out, when it wiped out all other soulless bodies. Does that say something about their essence, their nature, their very being? I can’t rightly say, I suppose. Far more scholarly individuals than I have tackled the concept of the soul and the self. Mostly to no true end. No one has those answers. This situation raises only further questions. Questions that my Fakeworld memories say shouldn’t even exist. I sigh after drawing a deep, slow breath. Shaking my head shudderingly, erratically, I try to bring my thoughts back around to Tiktik, Kitten.

The Fae woman’s hair somehow remains lustrous, voluminous, and bright orange, despite the flickering, dim glow that represents what little light penetrates the area. Its vibrance feels like it symbolizes the entirety of her in some way. It’s a simile for how vivacious she is, despite all that’s happened. Her slightly rounded, impish features are turned upwards in a sly grin as she catches me staring, and though I blush, I don’t waver. Her eyes at the moment are red, the irises seem to take up the majority of her large eyes, which occupy a larger section of her face than most people’s. Her bright, wide eyes contain an otherworldly charm as I gaze into them, smiling her way. The softness of her features accentuates the kindness in her every expression. I can’t imagine Kitten ever being intentionally malicious. She’s a prankster, sure, but like she said, she’s using restraint, because spooking people who are miserable, and fearful, wouldn’t be kind.

I hope we can reunite her with Littlebit. I hope we can keep her safe, long enough for it to happen. Honestly though, she’s powerful enough that I’m relying on her to help keep this contingent of kobolds safe, even though she hasn’t yet recovered. She wears a pouty half-frown in response to my thoughts. Which ones upset her, I’m not quite certain. Whether it’s because I’m being overprotective, or putting pressure on her when she’s recovering, or—.

Kitten interrupts my thoughts, “Hold up Tiger, it’s none of that. You’re a sweetie. I just—. I just don’t want to be reminded of Littlebit right now. There’s a whole world of trouble between me and seeing her again. I—. I don’t know if I’ll make it, and that’s not on you. She doesn’t feel that way about me, and that’s not on you either. Even if you’re starting to fall for me, especially now, with whatever’s going on, I just—. Huff. It’s not fair to you. I think you’re special, and whatever’s going on with Big Tee, I’m sure the two of you will get through it.”

I try to respond, but Tiktik continues, “You don’t have to tell me, I know it isn’t the time yet, whatever’s going on. I wanted to say though, that, um. I get it, you’re focusing on what’s in front of you, you have to, for whatever reasons. And right now, I’m what’s in front of you, because I put myself there. I just, well, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to take advantage of that. I know that that’s not what you’d think of me, and I’m glad, but I need you to really know it. I guess, I guess I could share a story about my time in the ‘Twixt, if maybe you’d be up for it? For hearing it?”

I nod cautiously. I’m uncertain as to why Tiktik’s defensive about my focus on her. I don’t hold any expectations, except that we’ll try to work together for our common safety. If it’s about any sort of affection, or romance, she and I both know how fickle and fleeting faefection can be, and that our friendship comes first to me. Like she said, she put herself in the position where she’s at the forefront of my mind, when I have to focus on what’s ahead of me, literally. Yet I’d never make the assumption that—. Well, exactly like she said. Maybe it’s because I’m wrong on why I think she wouldn’t be that way. At this line of thought, there’s a meek, ever-so-slight nod from Tiktik. I cock my head to the side, continuing to stare her in the eyes with a half-sad smile on my face as she starts her tale.