Sue remembered little of what followed her heart to heart with Solstice.
Her exhausted mind kept slipping in and out of consciousness, reducing entire hours to singular images. Solstice holding her in silence for hours. Being half guided, half carried back to the village, the sun setting above her. Laying on the bed in Willow’s clinic. The medic themselves standing in the doorway, the faint candlelight illuminating them against the backdrop of a nigh-moonless night.
And then... she was here again.
For once, Sue took her time before springing head first into yet another dream, shaking and keeping her eyes closed. The memory of the actual campfire the mockery in her dreams was based on was still fresh in her recollection and rawer than ever.
Maybe, if she just kept trying, she could force herself to snap out of this vision before she had to see any more of it. Maybe if she told Duck and Night Father off firmly enough, they’d leave this place alone and not defile it any further with their presence. Maybe she was just being repeatedly tested, and would be stuck in this world until she cracked a puzzle in her dreams she wasn’t even aware of.
Ultimately, there was little she could do without finding out just what she was in for this time. With a deep breath, Sue turned her gaze skyward and opened her eyes, determined to stare down whichever deity was—
The Moon was not there.
The realization took its sweet time to settle in as she kept examining the starry sky. She hoped to spot the usually unmistakable celestial body, or even just a Moon-sized hole in the astral backdrop—but no, nothing. No Moon, be it full or new, no clouds, only an endless canvas of darkness dotted with uncountable pinpricks of light, a couple of them moving across it.
Sue hesitated before lowering her eyeline and taking in the rest of the scene, left with absolutely no idea what she would see—and with the sky being simultaneously so familiar, and yet so deeply wrong, she didn’t have a good feeling about this. Then again, it wasn’t like she could avoid having to face it all sooner or later. She took a deep breath, then another, and then went for it in one swift motion, hoping her mind was ready for whatever horrors had been thrust upon it this time.
Okay, this is... slightly less unnerving.
Most of the scene was exactly how she remembered it, with the differences being limited to a couple of new objects, one of them as familiar as the other was gaudy.
To her right, on the next bench over, laid her mom’s guitar. The same one she played on that fateful evening before it ended up sharing her fate. The same cheap wood and even cheaper varnish, the same out of tune strings, the same magic-themed stickers covering most of its sides and front, courtesy of Sue from many years ago. The details rushed into her mind one by one, most of them thought long since faded from memory.
The other addition was much more eye-catching, but Sue would be lying if she said she cared about the ornate door anywhere near as much as the instrument beside her.
Before long, Sue was sitting where her mom once sat, the guitar now in her hands—hands that probably weren’t even fit to play it. Even if, though, that was a problem for the awake her. Without thinking more of it, she got right into plucking away at the strings, half-remembered chords combining into the most listenable kind of cacophony. Memories flowed with each note, slipping out from underneath the vice press of trauma that had threatened to crush them out of existence. Memories of the happier times, of her spending hours listening to her mom practicing or learning a new song.
Once upon a time, there was nothing cooler to her than being a guitarist.
She was so glad she could still remember.
Sue’s impromptu jamming session came to an end after a few minutes as she reached up to wipe the quickly building moisture out of her eyes. Once she had steadied her breathing, she laid the guitar down beside her—and did a double take at seeing something, someone in the corner of her eye, in the spot she sat on when she first woke up here—
One blink later, nothing.
Huh.
Regardless of whatever that was or wasn’t, it left Sue with an anxious feeling in her stomach, pushing her away from pondering on it. Shaking it off, she stood up and stretched, basking in the campfire’s warmth for a moment before turning towards the door standing off to the side. The golden frame and ebony wood made it look otherworldly—not to mention absurd, considering its surroundings. Before it lay a small, pink jewelry pillow, and on it rested a pair of golden semicircles, looking as if they had been made by someone with no sense of taste whatsoever.
Their combined appearance was so stark that all they needed was a large wobbling ‘Click Me!’ pop-up hovering above them—
Hold on.
The door could wait for a moment. As Sue was walking up to it, she felt… something underneath her foot, buried in the gray sand. An attempt to reach in found a massive slab of what felt like stone, large enough for her attempts to move it to accomplish exactly jack. She settled for the second best option instead—uncovering the object, one swipe of her oversized hands at a time.
Sue’s determination only grew as more of the slab came to view—and with it, writing engraved on it. Right as she was about to wrap it up, though, her hand brushed against a piece of paper somewhere in the sands. Without even thinking, she grabbed it with an excited, manic motion and brought it in front of herself—
You’re welcome.
Silver ink, elegant cursive, absolutely zero idea of what it could mean. The words made zero sense until she looked up from the page and at the unearthed slab, imaginary blood draining from her imaginary face as she took the inscription in.
----------------------------------------
†
In Loving Memory Of
SUE MARY MULLINS
16th January 2001 - 13th April 2023
Beloved Daughter
Forever In Our Hearts
----------------------------------------
Thirteenth of April, when the hell was that!?
Sue didn’t even notice the second date having been crossed out as her panicking thoughts tried to remember a date, any date, eventually stumbling on something recent.
She remembered waking up at a small rundown hostel and checking her phone first thing in the morning. It was just past nine, April twelfth. She had breakfast, strapped on her backpack, and headed out to a nearby forest trail. It was supposed to look stunning at this time of the year. At around the halfway mark, she found a bench and had lunch, then there was a loud bang some distance away, and—
And—
…
…
And the next thing she knew, she was laying in mud, lost, in a body that wasn’t hers.
Was that supposed to represent her subconscious worry about everyone on Earth thinking she was dead? Sue had no idea, but between the hyperawareness of her memories having been tampered with, and the distress of seeing her own gravestone, she really didn’t want to think about it any longer.
Let’s just focus on that door.
Shaking the morbid discovery off, Sue slowly got up and approached the main attraction this dream had in store. The door’s appearance became more bizarre the closer she looked, extremely lavish materials mixing with equally banal, plain design. Even the door handle was just an ebony replica of the plastic ones from her campus.
She wasn’t surprised to see the handle not budge even slightly when she tried to open it. Instead, her attention jumped down and towards the shiny trinkets laying in front of the door, the entire display as eye-catching as it was tacky. The two semicircles on the jewelry pillow didn’t just look like they were made of gold—they were. Solid gold no less, judging by their weight. They were engraved with depictions of Duck and Night Father, respectively, the engravings as detailed as they were shoddy, as if it had been clumsily machine pressed onto the precious metal.
One of them had a bit sticking out in the middle. It dumbfounded Sue for all of half a second before she spotted a fitting hole in the other one, the realization that followed as dumb as it was inarguable.
This is a puzzle with two elements.
As much as she felt like a victim of a practical joke, Sue couldn’t resist sticking the two pieces together just to see what would happen. They kept clinking against each other as she pressed them together, the sound grating her ears, but eventually she got them to fit. And, on cue, the dreamed-up door opened, revealing her dorm room on its other side.
It was all there. The bed she forgot to make when heading out, her laptop sipping electricity from the outlet, the trash bin that was long due to be cleaned, the small pile of notes cluttering her desk, a few dishes from the last morning she’d spent there.
This was her way out of here.
Sue dropped the pathetic excuse for a puzzle as she took a step towards the gate back to her world. To her dismay, the door didn’t get any closer, remaining just out of reach. Panic built inside her as she broke into a jog, then a sprint, straining her body to the backdrop of her dorm’s ambience as the dream fell apart around her. She couldn’t keep up, putting the last of her strength into one last leap of faith—but it, too, wasn’t enough.
Her reach missed the golden doorframe by mere inches as the surrounding scenery finished dissolving, leaving her to fall down, down, down—
And then, she felt her hand be grabbed by another, much like itself, and woke up.
----------------------------------------
Sue gasped as she came to, eyes shooting wide open. Her mind caught up to her surroundings as she calmed down her shallow breaths, eventually getting back to something approaching calmness. Once she no longer felt like she was on the brink of a panic attack, she sat up on her bed, staring at nothing as she processed what the hell she’d just dreamed.
Which fucking deity is messing with me this time?
The Moon’s absence hinted strongly against either of the two lunar deities—but if not them, then who? That tombstone was there for a reason, that door was there for a reason, that guitar… might’ve been there for a reason, or it might’ve just been her own subconscious acting up or something.
Even brief thoughts about the implication of her having died sent chills down Sue’s back. Chills, but nothing for answers, forcing her to focus on the other mystery, thankfully as trivial in the waking world as it was in her dreams. She brought the Night Mother and the Night Father together, and the door back home opened—
…
Wait, is that… it?
She tried to arrange the facts into some other configuration, worrying she had fallen into an intentionally placed dead end while the actual mystery here ran much deeper. But… no, nothing came up; there was no other way to interpret this. She just had to bring two…
Gods…
Back together…
…
As straightforward as her goal now was, that didn’t make it feel any less impossible. Sue had no idea where to begin with that kind of divine counseling—or even what getting them back together would even look like. Did she just… have to wait until both of them showed up in one of her dreams, at which point she’d make a polite plea for them to get together again?
The mental image of trying to bring a divorced couple together emerged from her brain and wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard she’d tried to banish it. It might’ve been accurate—it even felt like it was accurate—but it only made her feel more disheartened at her impossible task.
Oh, bother.
Sue knew she had to stop thinking about this or she’d grow mad, sooner or later. Tried as she might, she couldn’t snap her mind away from this topic, though, deflating her with a weak sigh. The task in front of her was one she had absolutely no idea how to even begin approaching. Interfering in divine quarrels was an undertaking much better suited for heroes of Greek legend, as opposed to one traumatized comp-sci student of hardly any ability and even less renown.
She was far from a stranger to the question of ‘why me’, and it took her until the past couple years to realize there was no point in asking it. It was a question without an answer, not one more explanatory than the incomprehensible dance of random chance, chaos theory, and Fate.
But… that wasn’t the case here, though.
Someone got her into all this mess, someone snatched her from her world and sent her to calm down a feud between two literal deities, someone left her here without even deigning her with a familiar body—or any memories of being kidnapped into this world, for that matter.
The moment I get my hands on that someone, I’m kicking their ass all the way to the Moon.
The newfound determination didn’t unravel the mystery any, but it certainly gave Sue the motivation to snap herself out of her funk and face the new day. She tossed the covers off and stretched, finally settling on how she was gonna tackle it all.
One step at a time, just like everything else.
Before she could start the day proper, though, a couple of distractions caught her attention. The bulky cast on her leg had been downgraded to just a few layers of bandages. She could still see some reddish swelling underneath, but it was far from the sight permanently burned into her memory she’d witnessed on her first day in Moonview. A tentative attempt to stand up on just her two feet ended in failure, but only barely this time. The pain was only slightly too unbearable now, and if her leg kept improving, then she ought to be able to walk again in a few days.
The other distraction was a small, off-white bundle in the clinic's corner, a far cry from Willow’s usual cleanliness. If it hadn’t been glowing, Sue would’ve probably just ignored it, but that addition made it just a bit too interesting to look past. Especially when combined with there being a mental presence underneath.
“H-h-hello?” Sue asked—and backed off a couple of steps, the bundle’s reaction immediate.
It shuffled around the floor for a moment, making sounds akin to metal scraping on wood, before it hovered into the air. Once it was floating, its—their appearance suddenly became much more familiar, but not their identity.
Sue had no idea why the bedsheet ghost lookalike she had run into outside Solstice’s tent would spend a night in here with her. Before she could put even the measliest of ideas together, though, the hidden creature’s stretch had the canvas sheet covering it slide off. They caught onto it too late, the black tentacles reaching out from underneath the cover fumbling and failing to grasp it before it fell all the way off.
The creature hiding beneath was... a lamp.
It was absurd how well that description fit. The small black body, arms and ‘cap’ had a texture of wrought iron, while their head was a semitransparent, glass-like sphere with a couple of yellow eyes on its outside. It housed a stunning blue flame, growing livelier once she took a closer look at it.
So… so eye-catching... I can’t… look… away…
And then; it was covered up once more.
The floating creature hovered away as Sue blinked through her momentary daze. The stranger’s emotions had turned from a mild startle to a heaping pile of shameful anxiety, the shift catching Sue off guard. Their ‘words’ were apologetic in tone, at least as much as the sound of quiet whispers mixing with fiery cracking could be said to have a tone to it.
“What’s wrong?” Sue mumbled, feeling like she’d just woken up from a nap.
Despite a lack of understanding, the lack of hostility in her voice was apparent, calming the stranger down as they hovered higher into the air. Their black tentacles were gripping their off-white shroud extra hard, leaving them looking even weirder than normal. Out of everything Sue had seen there, they’ve been by far the most… eccentric creature yet—
*rrr-rrrip!*
Sue stared blankly as the black spike at the top of the lamp’s head impaled through their cover. It was clearly intentional if them growing calmer afterwards was anything to go by, but it only confused her even more. Guess it wouldn’t fall off this way, at least—wait, was that why—
Before Sue could home in on that particular mystery, a soft voice perked her up. The sight of Willow had grown incredibly reassuring over her stay here, dissolving any remaining tension as she looked at the door’s clinic, finding the elderly medic smiling up at her.
A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
As they turned to talk to the hiding lamp, Sue gave her telepathy another go. She wasn’t exhausted or panicking anymore; there was much less risk of accidentally mentally assaulting someone, and—if the worst came to pass—Willow would probably be much more forgiving than that bee. With tranquil surroundings and a calm mind, the ritual she’d learned with Solstice only took a few seconds to perform in full.
Time to reap the spoils.
“G-good morning, Willow!” she greeted, expression turning ecstatic at getting one step closer to independence.
The medic, however, jumped at the sound, eyes wide as they turned around towards her. “Oh? Sue?”
The Forest Guardian beamed as she confirmed their hunch with a firm nod, trying her hardest to keep any self awareness about being far behind the skills of other Forest Guardians at bay.
I earned this; my brain can go and beat it.
“Oh! Good. Very good. How feel?” they asked.
Granted, all her limited skill got her were only fragmentary sentences, requiring a lot more brain power to process than she would’ve preferred. Still, it far, far beat nothing, Sue giddy as she replied, “I’m much better, th-thank you, Willow. Is my leg getting better?”
The imperfect communication seemed to go both ways, the bunny-like medic squinting as they worked through the few words they could make out. Their expression lit up as they finally cracked it, an affirmative nod joining it soon after. “Welcome. Leg better. Walk again in days. No walk now.”
She definitely wasn’t about to after her earlier test, but she appreciated the clarification.
With their message acknowledged, Willow turned back to the lamp in the room. Sue’s body used the opportunity to remind her about itself—it sure was high time for breakfast. Or two. She waited patiently as the other two spoke, the medic eventually speaking to her again, “This Crackle. He worried you yesterday, asked me help.”
The name fit, if nothing else. As much of a mess as yesterday was, she couldn’t recall getting scared of him, though.
Wait, maybe Willow means ‘worried about you’. Yeah, that fits better. Aww.
The news brought a smile to the once-human’s face as she waved at the newly identified Crackle, the floating lamp eagerly responding in kind. “Awww, tell him I said ‘thank you’,” she beamed. “That’s really sweet of him. Why is he hiding like this?”
Both Willow and Crackle grew confused as the former passed the words over, leaving Sue to worry she’d accidentally made a gaffe towards the animated inanimate object. Thankfully, the lamp got the gist not long after, his whispers growing louder as he let the medic know. “He say you nice. Glad you not mad. Him fire eat soul,” Willow explained, perfectly calm.
…what?
“Umm, could you repeat?” Sue asked, gulping. “I don’t think I got that right.”
“Repeat? Crackle fire burn spirit. Bad to look at alone.”
...nope, I didn’t mishear that.
Guess them wearing a blanket made much more sense now, even if it also implied that she had some of her soul eaten during her earlier exposure. Once she’d pushed past that terrifying realization, though, Sue realized she didn’t really feel any different afterwards. Maybe he’d only burned a small bit of her soul, then? Too small to notice? Maybe? Please?
Her sixth sense gladly pointed out that the unintentional spiritual arsonist was aghast at her being spooked by the news, only now realizing that she didn’t know what had happened. He hovered away in shame, the malevolent fire underneath the piece of canvas dimming out by the moment.
Regardless of how much of herself she’d lost, an accident was an accident. After taking a moment to compose herself, Sue walked over to the floating soul light, putting on her least shaky smile as she offered him a hand. “It’s okay Crackle, it’s okay.”
The gesture brought the burning one untold relief, his light burning brighter as he briefly grasped her hand with both of his own. They felt metallic and were almost too hot to touch—but only almost. Even their ephemeral speech was much louder and livelier now, even if still firmly in the territory of ‘whisper’.
Hope that the cover won’t fall off again, hah...
With that resolved, though, there was only one question left. “So... breakfast?”
----------------------------------------
Sue spearheaded the makeshift band in their journey towards the clearing. She’d grown so used to her crutch that she could wager she was the best Forest Guardian in the world at using it. Or at least in that specific moment, while reasonably rested and being further sped along by hunger pangs.
She didn’t have to be told where to go, auto-piloting her way over to Poppy’s stall. Hazel ghosted the counter this time, leaning on it with a bored expression. Even without the knowledge of Moonview’s weird language, the ghost’s croaked words being a greeting was a safe enough bet. “Hey, Hazel.”
Just don’t call me ‘Crutches’ again and we’ll be all good.
The ghost lifted an eyebrow and groaned at the newcomer having devolved to speaking in gibberish. Fortunately for Sue’s hunger and sanity alike, Willow and Crackle weren’t far behind, the medic speaking as they caught up. Their soft-spoken words confused Hazel even further, her red eyes glancing between them and the Forest Guardian beside them. With how used she was to Willow’s words being untranslated, it took Sue a while to realize that she’d dropped her link with them without noticing it.
No biggie, just gotta go through the motions again and—
As Sue was about to repeat her minor mental magic miracle from earlier, a sight off in the distance chilled her. Her breaths deepened again as the yellow and black blur turned away from her, her mind hoping that Basil wouldn’t spot her.
Of course, that annoying rational part of her brain may have had a point when it kept drumming about confronting her fears and apologizing to him before the situation could fester in both of their minds.
…
Especially since, even on a purely emotional basal level, as scary as a massive bee with stingers for arms was, a massive bee with stingers for arms and a grudge against her was ten times scarier.
While Hazel and Willow bickered on, Sue finally pushed through her hesitation. She took one step, then another, then a third still, each one taking her further away from the safety of the medic’s presence and towards the bee she was so terrified of. The medic was too focused to notice her sneaking away, but that couldn’t be said for Crackle, the lamp torn between the clueless medic and almost as clueless Forest Guardian. Ultimately, they stuck with the latter, even if just to see what she was up to.
Her breaths grew shakier the closer she got to Basil, knowing full well his relaxed body language wouldn’t last and hoping beyond hope he wouldn’t freak out at her presence. He seemed to have just finished making his order, leaning on the counter as he looked around—
And spotted her.
Both sides jumped, startled, as they stared at each other. His emotions occupied Sue’s entire attention, especially as they went from alarmed to… afraid.
Is he… scared of me? I’m so sorry…
As bad as the realization made Sue feel, it also melted through some of her panic. Her expression softened as she gave him a small wave, wanting to establish some communication, however limited. The bee returned the gesture, though not without concerned confusion accompanying it, one that Sue had no idea how to overcome short of repeating the action that got them in all this mess in the first place.
Sadly, the more Sue thought about this, the clearer it became that it was the only realistic option—one that she’d have to act on eventually with the steadily growing tension. Without wasting another moment, she closed her eyes and went for it, hands moving around as she repeated the telepathic ritual. She felt panic spike in Basil’s mind as she navigated her mental reach through the air, making her want to stop—but by then, it was too late, their minds linking an instant later.
Prying her eyes open revealed Basil to be bracing himself for more pain, holding the two massive stingers in front of himself like a shield. He shook as the torment kept not coming, eventually gathering enough courage to peek out from his arms.
As sorry as the sight made her feel, Sue knew this was her time to act. A determined expression crept onto her face as she walked over and spoke, Basil’s compound eyes going wide—“Hello, Basil. I’m... I’m sorry for hurting you yesterday.”
For once, the bee remained silent, his arms drooping as he stared, dumbfounded. For a few moments, Sue was worried if she’d done it right, if he’d even understood her. She was about to say something again before Basil finally responded, his constant buzzing translating into an entire deluge of words. “Heavens you mad not really good I scared Moon angry me little one us thank thank you.”
Basil’s speech was much less coherent than Willow’s, forcing Sue to fill in the blanks herself and string the words along. Somehow, she could make sense of some of them, but far from all. But it was okay.
I can just ask again. I can, for once, just ask again.
“No, no, I’m not mad. I washn’t mad yesterday either, it was an accident and I’m sorry.”
“You hurt then accident not intent not mad?” Basil asked, leaning in.
This time, she was confident enough in her interpretation to just nod and respond, “Yes. I didn’t know what you were saying, and I wanted to understand, but I hurt you by accident.”
Basil’s body language grew less defensive as he flew over closer, confusion turning into surprise. “You not hear understand me saying you psychic?”
Well, how do I put it...
“I’m terrible at being psychic, I’m sorry,” Sue sighed, chuckling nervously.
The admission melted through the last of Basil’s worries, leaving him calmer despite how fast his thoughts kept buzzing. “Sorry not understand you not understand me. Thought I you talk sacred Moon like I foolish not understand.”
Guess being able to say ‘fuck’ with nobody else knowing does feel sacred in a way.
“I don’t know any sacred words, hah,” Sue shook her head. “And it’s alright, I forgive you!”
The mention of forgiveness left Basil especially giddy. Relief filled his mind as he flew over in one swift motion, nodding rapidly to the tune of repeated ‘thank you’ before he continued, “Wonderful wonderful! Forgive I too, wish I know then you confused scared not understand. Here Birch hear good news happy!”
As happy as Sue was to hear his words, she could tell that the last part wasn’t aimed at her. She glanced over her shoulder, following Basil’s line of sight. Willow was there in the corner of her vision, waddling their way over, but they weren’t who the bee’s attention rested on.
The bespoke Birch was carrying the brown caterpillar Basil was looking after yesterday in their arms. They weren’t particularly unnerving or even weird looking, certainly not by the standards of this world—but what they were, though, was familiar. Almost entirely white wings with black edges, purplish body with large blue legs, red compound eyes. The memory of Sue’s encounter with another of their kin on her first day here crept out of her memories and into her attention.
Good Duck was I clueless. If only I knew massive butterflies are some of the least weird it gets here.
The memories were amusing enough to distract Sue from the fact that the recollection went both ways. Birch was clearly taken aback as they buzzed towards Basil, the bee’s response catching the Forest Guardian’s attention. “What met her ago? Away village, not hurt? Run scream away panic see you? Hey chosen Moon mate my Birch say he you met ago away, scare you?”
...
Welp.
“Umm... y-yeah, I did,” Sue chuckled nervously, trying to look at anything but the bug couple. “I’ve never seen another like him before and was terrified by everything, sorry...” she trailed off. Though, while she was at it—“Oh, and my name is Sue.”
The sound of her voice got the caterpillar in Birch’s arms to wriggle themselves in her direction. They squirmed until they to contort themselves to look straight at her. The two engaged in a brief stare-off before the little one broke it with lively wriggling; the little well-defined there was of their mind feeling very happy to recognize someone outside of their parents.
“Sue then happy hear,” Basil beamed. “Sue never see like you scared scared scared then, apology Birch.”
Thankfully, the butterfly didn’t mind one bit, upbeat and kicking their legs in the air as they laughed the whole matter off. As they did, Sue felt something touch her side from behind, followed by a sudden burst of joy and one warm nose she was well familiar with. And then, shortly after, by a whole host of other noises and emotions, the scene suddenly growing much busier.
But first things first. “Hey there, Spark~,” she cooed. The fiery kit was leaning on her good leg with her forelegs, happiness filling her woofs and mind—especially once she spotted the bee next to her tall friend.
“Hi hi hi Spark!” Basil swooned, returning the lil' vixen's enthusiasm.
Off to the right, Willow was trying to catch her attention, likely not realizing she couldn’t understand them anymore.
The leafy caretaker closed in on the group right behind them, Comet in her arms. His immediate reaction to seeing her was an excited squeak and letting her know he wanted to be picked up. Before Sue could decide on whom to focus first, though, Splitleaf took the initiative.
She moved Comet to one arm and caught her attention with a modest wave, the tiny Martian liking the gesture enough to repeat it on his own. Once the rest of the group had calmed themselves from the resulting giggling, the caretaker spoke up. Her rustling vocalizations were calm and measured, the apologetic intent clear to see.
“Mom Sue you understand not, maybe maybe,” Basil chimed in soon after. He was right, but it didn’t matter—she understood Splitleaf’s gist all the same.
Sue bowed as deeply as she could at the apology while returning some of her own, “Apology accepted. I’m sorry for all that mess yesterday.”
Still, it would’ve been nice to convey her desire for reconciliation in a better way. She lifted her free arm towards the mantis, miming a one-armed embrace, her gesture clearly understood—
If not necessarily by its intended recipient.
For what it was worth, Basil’s blistering speed made her not even realize anything was afoot until he was already embracing her torso. By the time Sue’s brain caught up, everyone else’s amusement was all she could sense, both at the situation and at her expression.
As unnerving as a realization that there were three very sharp, very large stingers next to and wrapped around her was, the adorableness of the attached person made up for that uncomfortable fact. Said person then buzzed, “Aaa aaa nice nice this nice thank you Sue.”
Thankfully, Splitleaf wouldn’t skip out on the opportunity just because her son also took it. She hugged Sue’s other side with one arm while bringing Comet closer with the other one. The little Martian was overjoyed at his big friend being in reach and let everyone know by squeaking loudly as he splatted into Sue’s side.
Guess even bugs feel nice here.
Once Sue got over the initial shock of Basil joining in on the hug, she wrapped her arm around his abdomen, low enough to not swat into his wings while keeping a hearty distance away from his stinger. His buzzing, combined with everyone else feeling well, filled her with a pleasant warmth, sorely needed after yesterday’s mess.
Speaking of.
As everyone detached themselves from her, Comet much more so begrudgingly than others, Sue looked around the scene in pursuit of either Solstice or Sundance. She sure wasn’t expecting to see the former around after yesterday, but the latter was a bit more puzzling. It was possible they had just departed for somewhere again, like they had when she first ended up in Moonview, but... it was worth asking.
Thankfully, the group’s chatter was self-contained enough to let her focus on linking with Willow again. The sensation snapped them out of their own confusion about how to proceed. Sue’s voice perked them up as she spoke, “Willow?”
Their nod prompted an excited question from Spark, the affirmative answer making her burn even brighter in her excitement. The reason behind her response wasn’t exactly difficult to make out, making Sue giggle.
Sure, sure, you’ll have your speaking time sweetie, just not now.
“Where’s Sundance and Solstice?” she asked.
The medic’s own look around the place indeed revealed the absence of either psychic, making them forward the question to Splitleaf. Both Spark and the leafy mantis responded to Willow’s question, occasionally talking over each other. Comet interjected a baby noise or two, squeaking once his addition was rewarded with some further pets.
Eventually, Willow had enough of a hold on the situation to pass it back over to their patient, trying to keep their description clear. “Sundance Solstice need alone meditate. Yesterday very hard both. Be back today hope. Yesterday hard you too, true not true?”
Meditation time, eh? Honestly, I could probably use some, too—at least if I knew how to do it.
“I see, thank you,” Sue muttered, thoughtful. “Yeah, yesterday was... very hard for me, too. Feel better now.”
A part of the medic wanted to reach over and comfort her before the reassurance that she was alright followed shortly afterwards. Concern still lingered inside them despite that, though they tried not to show it. “Glad hear better you. What happen?”
As much as Sue wanted to have someone else to talk about her trauma with, she could probably go a few weeks, if not months, without clawing at these old scars again. Triply so with the deep uncertainty her ultimate realization brought her, many of the intertwined emotions not fully processed yet.
A firm shake of her head was already clear enough of a response, but clarifying further wouldn’t hurt. “A lot,” she sighed. “So, so, so much, and it was all overwhelming, but I’d rather not talk about the details, not now at least.”
Disappointment joined the partially renewed concern, though Willow once more maintained composure, choosing not to press the issue further. “Is good all. Now, we need food take, then,” they began, before pausing at the thought. After a moment of consideration, they turned towards Splitleaf and continued, “Splitleaf Spark Comet take you where? Oh, good. Easy calm. Sue take you too? Good good. Sue! Splitleaf take you. Little play where. Calm there. After breakfast.”
As good as Sue was getting at the game of stringing barely coherent words into one concrete through-line, she didn’t quite accomplish that feat this time. The gist of Splitleaf taking her somewhere calm was as clear as it was appreciated, though, her weary smile inspiring a much larger one in the medic.
But first, breakfast.
----------------------------------------
Willow’s presence as a translator barely made the task of choosing her meal any easier.
Still, Sue eventually settled on something, her meal arriving a few minutes later. Said something turned out to be a well-grilled burrito, warm to the touch and crunchy to the bite. Its filling was much more monotone than even the cheapest meal out of a terrible franchise restaurant, though it had a marked advantage of actually being tasty, combining a crispy seared meat-like texture, with a sweeter, gravy-like flavor.
Not the favorite meal she’d had during her stay in Moonview—not by a long shot—but it was still much better than anything she had a hope of ever cooking for herself.
The meal the bug family went for was tricky to make heads and tails of—all Sue could tell was that it comprised approximately equal parts berries and leaves, the latter eaten with as much gusto as the former. The little ones of the band, Comet and Spark included, each got a singular blue fruit instead, walking away happy while Splitleaf kept trying—and failing—to keep their cheeks clean and non-sticky.
Crackle was... somewhere, she supposed. Sue hadn’t noticed the floating lamp had left until she was already wrapping her meal up, the realization more dumbfounding than anything else.
Hope he’s alright.
Once everyone was done, they all split up and got a move on. Comet got handed off into Sue’s free arm, much to their shared joy; the caterpillar ended up in Splitleaf’s arms; and Spark scrambled along off to the side. The other adults all departed shortly after, leaving the Forest Guardian with just the kids and their caretaker.
As they marched on, there was still one unknown Sue wanted to clarify.
The leafy mantis looked up at her in confusion as she suddenly stopped and concentrated, her mind’s movements making Comet squirm even more. His psychics just kinda went all over the place, feeling tingly against Sue’s skin as she linked up with Splitleaf, one question tickling her mind in particular. “Hi! What’s the little brown one’s name? The one in your arms?”
Sue didn’t expect the bushbug to get as confused as she did in response. The caretaker looked down at the little one in her arms and whispered, “No name,” before holding them closer, a tinge of sadness filling her mind.
The response took the Forest Guardian aback, especially with the unintended tone shift her question had inspired. Comet acknowledged the change in mood with a quiet mumble, clinging to Sue even closer afterwards. “Why none?” she asked.
Splitleaf sighed deeply. “No until two moon.” Her embrace tightened still as her leafy arm pet along the caterpillar’s head and back. “Then know they live. Then they name.”
The reason made sense when stated out loud. At the same time, the mere necessity of a rule like that stabbed Sue in the heart, the arm holding Comet following Splitleaf’s lead in holding him that much tighter. “I-I see,” she whispered, holding back tears. “Thank you.”
The mantis nodded, a weak smile creeping onto her face. “Is good. They healthy. Have hope hope.”
The rest of the walk towards their destination went uneventfully.
Spark kept trying to get as much affection from Sue as she could, getting just a teeny bit frustrated her savior was holding Comet in her arms and not her. The lil’ psychic, oblivious to everything else going on in the world, continued to experience it one exciting thing at a time, waving clumsily at almost every creature the group passed by. Most of them even waved back, those without the limbs to do so using their entire bodies as a substitute.
Moonview’s playground turned out to be less a structured location and more a large sandbox. Most of the little ones she’d seen the other day were already playing there, the blue cloud bird watching over them all. They only passed Sue’s group a brief whistled greeting and a timid wave before focusing back on their duty.
Spark ran right into the fray, immediately splashing sand on some other kids and chatting them up. They returned the favor soon after, forcing the fiery fox to shake the dust out of her fur before counter attacking. The quickly escalating sand battle was thankfully called off with a single stern whistle from the cloud bird.
Splitleaf took a seat off to the side, letting the little caterpillar wander around freely, but only in her immediate vicinity. Guess with her revelation, Basil’s panic at losing sight of his child made much more sense in hindsight.
As Sue looked around for a place to sit down herself, she felt a stronger emotion emanate from nearby. Hardly interesting by itself, but with how intensely sad it was, and with it coming from behind the tree line, she couldn’t help but investigate. It was probably just nothing, but… it could’ve been a lil’ kid in distress.
The feelings tugging at her sixth sense grew stronger with her every step, sorrow soon getting laced with a few other emotions—trepidation, worry, even a bit of excitement. Comet clearly felt it all too, growing quiet before long. The stranger’s longing burned even brighter as she peered into the greenery, scanning the area in search of the source of the emotions—and then, she spotted it. Kinda.
To the best extent her mind could perceive it.
The pitch black spot in the middle of the forest floor felt... wrong. It wasn’t sized right; it was simultaneously too small and too large to be real. A pair of white pinpricks peered out of it, wobbling all over as Sue’s vision grew blurry and her lungs burned, her entire body losing a grip on itself. She couldn’t think, but she couldn’t stop looking, her body gasping for oxygen as the aberration stared back at her—
And with another blink, it took off into the woods, away from Moonview.
Sue came to with a gasp, vision swimming as she tried to process what had just happened. The unnatural sight was so deeply wrong her mind rejected it whole, turning the past few moments into little more than a blur in her recollection. Comet’s equally confused squeaks helped her shake her funk off as she hoped that whatever she’d just seen hadn’t hurt either her or the tyke in her arms.
And that it wouldn’t do… whatever it just did to anyone else, especially the little ones.
Before Sue could worry any more about that, though, she felt one well-familiar mental presence approach her from behind, the toothy girl’s rough cry accompanied by a quiet clinking of metal on metal. Sue’s heart swelled as Joy reached her destination, wrapping her arms around the Forest Guardian’s good leg. “Hey Joy!”
*squeak!*