After everything that had happened over the past few days, Sue could only thank Duck for Astra’s and Joy’s appearance. She was relieved, both at them doing well after their sudden separation yesterday, and at Comet having someone to play with besides just her.
With that heartwarming revelation came another, though, less reassuring if similarly wonderful at face value.
The bandages wrapped around Joy’s maw were gone, the previously concealed cuts only barely visible anymore. Her menacing back mouth was once more free to open and bite, left slightly agape as the metal girl looked up at her tall friend.
That smile is doing wonders at melting through my worries, I have to give Joy that.
Once Joy had detached herself from Sue’s legs, she ran back into the sandpit, with Astra passing them both a wave as she sat down and got comfortable—one returned right after. Comet wasn’t shy about wanting to join the other kids, squeaking and wriggling much to his current caretaker’s amusement. It took Sue an awkward, drawn-out moment, but eventually, Astra got the cue that the Forest Guardian would need help sitting down, one eagerly given. Her seat in the sand wasn’t the most comfortable out there, but she had more than enough distractions around her to keep it from becoming too annoying.
One of said distractions could hardly contain himself after finally being released onto his own legs.
His clumsy waddle led him first back up to Sue, and then over towards Joy. The toothy girl withdrew into her guardian at Comet’s loud enthusiasm, but Sue’s gentle pets helped her maintain her composure.
“Don’t worry, shweetie, he just wants to say hi,” Sue softly reassured. Her words were greatly appreciated; if not for their contents, then for their tone. They were enough for Joy to finally dare a step towards the little Martian—after grabbing and holding the Forest Guardian’s hand to her front, of course.
Comet responded with a gleeful squeak and an excited scramble, pulling most of Joy’s body into a clumsy, but very heartfelt hug. He wasn’t sure what to do afterwards, though, confused at his playmate’s clear trepidation.
Sue wanted to link up with Joy and hopefully provide some understanding—but before she could do that, Spark made her glorious return onto her lap. Her wonderfully warm presence was accompanied by several woofs, catching the other two kids’ attention.
Fine, fine, Spark’s been waiting for her chance to speak for longer, teehee.
Joy watched keenly as Sue went through a bunch of odd gestures. Her little arms held Comet throughout, or at least until he got bored and waddled away before plopping down in a random spot. The toothy girl didn’t notice, though, too distracted by hearing Sue speak. “Hey Sparkie, yes you can hear me now!”
The lil’ vixen gasped at hearing her friend’s voice, even if she had to put in some effort to piece her sentences together. “Yay yay! How do? Thought you not do.”
Sue thought back to Solstice’s cover-up story, hoping Spark didn’t know enough to poke holes in it. “Solstice taught me, sweetie,” she explained as confidently as she could. “I’m really thankful to her.”
Spark’s excited nods melted Sue’s heart. “Can teach me she?” the kit woofed, preemptively engaging her puppy eyes.
Adorable as the sight was, the question left Sue confused. “Why not your mom?” she asked—and somewhat regretted it right after. She felt Spark deflate at her words, the sensation stinging her soul as she feared she’d misspoken somehow.
That turned out to not be the case. “I can’t she say,” Spark muttered. “Too small.”
“Well, I’d guess that she knows best,” Sue smiled, to little effect.
Spark’s grumbles netted her a few more pets, the affection dissolving some of her grumpiness. Still, Sue wished she could do more. Before either of them could continue, though, Joy mumbled something out at them, catching their shared attention. Muddled as they were, Spark managed to make out a couple of words, responding cheerfully, “We talk, Joy! Sue can talk brain, Solstice teach!”
Joy might not have understood everything her friend had said, but what she did understand had her face light up in awe. Right as she was about to ask for Sue to speak to her like that too, though, she jumped with a startled cry, metal teeth clinking together as she turned to look at Comet. The little Martian was dumbfounded at his curious touch having resulted in such a startle, making him sit down in surprise.
Before either of them could grow more upset, Astra spoke up, her calm words calming both kids down. Joy gathered her bearings before walking up to Comet again, the psychic tyke wasting no time before providing her with some more affection.
This is adorable, but… it won’t hurt to give them something concrete to bond over.
“Wanna try building sandcastles?” Sue asked, beaming. To her worry, it seemed her telepathic capabilities fell far short this time, Spark just tilting her head with no idea of how to respond. Which left a practical demonstration, and Sue wasn’t opposed to that one bit.
As weird as these Forest Guardian hands were, their sheer size left them rather well-suited for shoveling sand. The entire group watched closely as Sue dug into their playground before sculpting a couple of handfuls of wet sand into a cylinder. A pointed fingertip then drew a brickwork texture on its sides, completing the look of a barebones tower.
Fortunately, this was all the example the two bipedal tykes needed to get inspired. Joy wasted no time before reaching into the dugout and grabbing as much sand as she could, already envisioning her own version of Sue’s tower. Comet, meanwhile, got the equally bright idea of decorating the structure by sprinkling it with dry sand and placing a pebble on top of it.
To Sue’s concern, Spark didn’t have anywhere near the handiness or fine motor control to contribute directly. Her attempt to draw something on the tower’s exterior only ended up taking a noticeable chunk out of the sandy wall, leaving her annoyed—at least, before she took a deep breath, and realized there was another way in which she could help. She couldn’t draw well, but what she could do was dig—and dig she was going to do.
The sight of the lil’ fox excavating the raw material for their construction efforts kept Comet’s attention as his playmate kept building. Sue was about to start adding to the impromptu sculpture herself before Astra’s soft, slightly hiss-like speech caught her attention first. The orange dragon seemed to be chatting with someone hidden behind her large body, her words interspersed with an occasional glance at the playgroup.
Can’t see them, but… could try sensing them?
Sue tried to probe with her sixth sense, revealing uncertainty and hesitation emanating from whoever Astra was talking to—one steadily waning with each word. A tiny squeak eventually acknowledged the dragon’s words before the hidden being began making their way over towards their group. With the situation resolved, Astra returned to her earlier duty, resuming her nap underneath the nearby tree’s shade.
The Forest Guardian sure didn’t expect the approaching stranger to turn out to be the plant bulb-like villager she and Joy had seen yesterday. They were friends with that pink bat, though, earning them a glare from Sue as they walked over. Though, from what she remembered, they were by far the least hostile towards Joy, the realization softening her hostility before it could build up further. The plant child still noticed her conflicted expression, though, pausing in hesitation.
Once she’d gathered her bearings and calmed down, Sue tried breaking through their worry with a friendly wave, the gesture’s effectiveness… mixed. Thankfully, it wouldn’t be all up to her, with Comet soon joining in on the greetings with a mumble only he could understand. The sound made Spark peek out of her impromptu quarry, greeting the newcomer—“Hi Petal!”—before going back to her excavator duties.
Joy was by far the least eager of the three towards the newly named Petal, and Sue couldn’t blame her one bit. She might have known nothing about the oddly mobile plant, including whether they would be nice to Joy, but with how serene the scene was and with them having walked over on their own accord, she was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. She reached towards the plant with one hand, as if to shake their nonexistent one, while the other kept calming Joy down with some well-needed affection. As uncertain as Petal was, they pushed through their hesitation all the same, eventually reaching out one of their light green... extremities to be grabbed.
Feels like a stem to the touch. Neat.
From there, it was just a matter of bringing her hands together, the kids at their ends growing less hesitant by the moment. Petal spoke up not long after, their words half-squeaked, half-whistled, and… sounding a bit muffled, probably on the account of them not having a visible mouth.
I... do not want to think too deeply about how that works.
For the second time today, Joy took a moment to cool off before walking over to the plant. She mimicked her big friend and held her hand out, making Petal let go of Sue to shake limbs with her instead. The gradual drop of tension was downright palpable for the Forest Guardian—and so, so welcome.
“Petal! Build us help?” Spark woofed out, leaving the plant child confused. Sue took it upon herself to demonstrate, grabbing another pile of wet sand and building the next mound with it. Joy leaped in to help without skipping a beat, followed by Comet—and then, after a bit more uncertainty, by Petal.
Even if they were individually tiny, three pairs of hands added up, especially when backed up by one really big pair of hands. For a while, the group kept building and Spark kept digging, nobody but Sue having any idea of just what they were even making a sandy depiction of. Despite that, with the Forest Guardian as their forewoman, the construction of the stereotypical rectangular castle progressed smoothly.
As they kept adding to it, though, the sheer mass of the sand made the foundation buckle under the load. After Sue’s fortieth attempt to pile on all the material that had fallen away failed, Petal’s whistled cry caught her attention before she could proceed with attempt forty-one. She watched as the plant scooted closer to try something, resting one light green limb on the sandcastle’s wall—which then glowed.
The repeated exposure to glow stick body parts had dulled Sue’s reaction down to just her eyes going wide. Eye-catching as Petal’s bodily spectacle was, though, it was nothing compared to what happened afterward. The entire castle shuddered as dark, thin roots crept their way around and through the structure, providing reinforcement all around.
Following that minor act of all-natural miracle work, Petal tried to back away from the castle—with clear difficulty. To Sue’s astonishment, their light green limb turned out to be the source of the roots, each individual stalk connecting back to it. As rigid as said connection looked, though, it was ultimately brittle, the plant child freeing themself shortly after—and almost losing their balance while at it.
Guess the ‘types’ Willow had described include something related to plant life, huh?
Still, Sue wasn’t expecting that sort of affinity to manifest itself like this—or to show so strongly through Petal’s appearance, for that matter. With the ‘type’ conundrum on her mind, she couldn’t help but wonder what was the ‘typing’ of the rest of their group.
Both she and Comet had psychic senses, which... counted, somehow, as vaguely defined as that category sounded. And, if she remembered right, they also had a special connection with the Moon, a trait that Poppy of all people shared as well. Spark was fiery in looks, body temperature, and skills alike, the displays of her and her mother’s ability to manipulate fire burned into Sue’s memory. Petal had something to do with plants. Astra was... uh…
It was at that point that her attempts at categorizing everyone present broke down. Sure, Astra very much looked like a big Flying Dragon, but Sue had no idea how that translated to any type in particular. Her big orange friend didn’t look fiery, or plant-y, or... psychic-y, or even icy like Snowdrop. She obviously wasn’t one of the night kin either, which left... ‘none of the above’? That ‘normal’ type that Willow had mentioned and apparently shared?
As unclear as Astra’s elemental affinity was, it paled compared to Joy, making Sue give up right away instead of even trying to categorize the toothy girl. Her looks or anatomy gave very little away in figuring out what sort of ‘type’ she might’ve had—unless ‘cute’ and ‘at least partially made of metal’ counted. Having a list of all the options would’ve helped a lot, that’s for sure—or even just an idea of how many of these types were there. Ten? Twenty? A hundred?
Behold Sue, part Psychic, part Clueless.
Something warm and damp touching her hand distracted Sue from any further thoughts about the wacky genetics of this world. A glance over revealed said limb to be in a… rather unnerving position of being held by the tip of Joy’s maw. Firmly away from the large, sharp, shining teeth, but still much too close for comfort. The rest of the uncertainly typed girl had either not noticed or not paid much attention to what her back face was doing, busy drawing Astra’s depiction on the side of the sandcastle.
As much as the sight unnerved her, Sue didn’t have any reasons to think that the gesture was meant to be aggressive, certainly not from Joy. That didn't help much by itself, though, especially with her not having any other ideas about what it might’ve meant—
…
…
Wait.
Could this... be meant as affectionate?
Sue supposed it only made sense for a species that was half maw by volume to have ways of using it that weren’t aggressive, but… that revelation only did so much towards making it any less unnerving, though. Still, unnerving or not, it was on her end to deal with. It didn’t hurt, it clearly wasn’t malicious, it just felt a bit weird. Hell, it even made sense that Joy would want to do something like that, hold her big friend’s hand while she played with the other kids.
Spooky looking, but ultimately sweet. Joy in a nutshell, hah.
Instead of disturbing the metal girl, Sue inspected the group’s progress. The towers atop the castle’s bastions were left unfinished on the account of nobody but her having the reach to finish building them. Having absolutely no idea what any of this was supposed to look like in the first place helped greatly in not discouraging the handed kids despite that setback.
Spark, however, was growing a bit frustrated. Having an outlet in digging up sand helped release some of her emotions, but hardly all. And between being unable to start learning telepathy like Sue, and being unable to really contribute to the others’ play, there was a lot of annoyance to release. Eventually, the fox had enough—she got up, shook approximately three pounds of sand out of her fur, and scampered over to nuzzle Sue’s free arm, before woofing, “I go play others!”
One affirmative nod later, the lil’ vixen was off to the races, leaping over Astra’s legs. Before Sue could focus too much on the play group Spark was running towards, or the pink scorpion bat therein, the kit’s passed-by greeting caught Sue’s attention—“Hello Kantaro!”
The words jolted Astra out of her nap, making the dragon sit up and look over her shoulder. Astra might’ve been surprised at said Kantaro’s presence here at the playground, but Sue… was surprised at almost everything else about them, despite it being her second time seeing them.
The bipedal beetle’s dark blue chitin shined in the sunlight as they eyed the tree Astra was resting under out. The dragon’s question had them respond with low, grumbly clicks, despite their underlying emotional state, sounding quite unnerving despite their mind being filled with nothing but unemotional focus. While they stood there, Sue craned her head and tried to get a better look at what they had brought with themself. A handful of planks, a large coil of rope, a bundle of something very colorful that Sue had a hard time making out from the distance—and, as they promptly demonstrated by drawing a few lines on the tree’s bark, a stick of chalk.
Are they gonna build a treehouse?
Before Sue could see if her hunch would end up accurate, though, she suddenly felt a jolt in her brain. The sensation was rather unpleasant, but… not unfamiliar. Before she could even look around for its source, a squeaky, girlish voice echoed through her mind; “^Hello, Sue!^”
A much louder voice than Sue remembered it being.
She winced, looking over her shoulder to find Thistle and Pollux peeking out from the treeline, the latter not wasting an opportunity to chuckle at her startle before waving at her. “Hey, Thistle,” she greeted, surprised to see the kids here again after their escape a couple of days ago. “Whattcha doin’ here?”
“^We’re looking for Spark! Do you know where she is!?^”
Despite Sue’s near-permanent state of confusion, this was the one question she had an answer for. She turned further into the playground and pointed in the approximate direction she remembered the lil’ fox run towards—
*BRR-BR-BRRRR!*
The loud sound from behind made Sue visibly jump, kicking her heart rate up by several gears. As startling as the noise was, though, a panicked look over her shoulder revealed the source to have been Kantaro. Having filled in an outline, they were now horn-deep into scraping away the bark and the wood underneath, carving the sturdy tree as if it was butter.
The little ones only barely noticed, and Astra was sleeping through it all. Somehow.
Once Sue had recovered from it all and let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding, she looked back over at where the night kin fox and his friend were—and only found an empty spot among the trees. Well, not entirely empty. A black feathered, crow-like bird sat on the branch immediately above where she last saw Pollux and Thistle. They were focusing on Kantaro’s ongoing crafts work, and Sue didn’t have a reason to disturb them, following their lead shortly after.
After a few minutes of working away at the tree with just their horns, the beetle switched to using their white claws. They continued to make effortless work of the tree as a flat, smooth surface came into its own, followed by the cut-outs for the planks they had brought with themselves to slide into. They finally had to resort to using a tool for the latter, fixing the corners with an elongated, visibly worn down chisel.
As they worked on, a small display began to take shape on the side of the tree. The way it was attached and its slanted roof above it made Sue think of a bird box, despite how inapplicable it was in this world. As the craftsbug worked on, they tried to minimize the usage of any tools beyond their own body, only resorting to their chisel and wood glue a couple times, the latter just for the supports.
Something falling down in Sue’s peripheral vision, followed by Kantaro trying to hammer in the final support beam by tackling it with his entire body, finally took Sue out of watching the incredible display. She blinked her daze away before looking at what had—
Oh no no no no NO NO—
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She had no idea what separated the creatures in Moonview from those in the surrounding woods, but if there was anything that should’ve only belonged in the latter, it was the green, horned spider that had just fallen onto Astra’s front. Its blood-red mandibles choked the breath out of her as Sue shook in fear, about to shout for the dragon to get away—
Before Astra herself came to once more, only reacting to the newcomer with a sleepy blink and a calm question. The spider responded soon after, their ‘words’ comprising soft click-like noises. The spider-dragon exchange lasted only a few sentences before the former... crawled off Astra and made their way into Moonview, leaving Sue stunned.
What, how, but, h-HOW!?
The green spider’s larger, red cousin having tried to eat Spark, Pollux, and then her was still fresh in Sue’s memory, immediately making her hyperventilate. If there were any species that shouldn’t have been allowed anywhere within fifty miles of Moonview, it was these spiders—a-and this one was just there! Just having a nap on a branch!
Splitleaf even waved at them as they crawled past!
Before Sue’s brain could fry itself from attempting to solve that contradiction, she heard someone else’s voice speak up from nearby. It was as soft as growls and whines could be, with a particular croaky quality to it that made her think of Willow. To little surprise, the newly arrived villager was completely unlike the medic. Though, if their chat in front of Duck’s shrine a few days ago was any sign, the two clearly knew each other.
The velvety fur covering their body was split between cream and dark purple. Their proportions looked more like a badger or a dog standing on their hind legs for a trick as opposed to a full-time bipedal creature. Admittedly, Sue wasn’t paying as much attention to their legs as she did to their... collar, she guessed.
Nope, it wasn’t a trick of the light last time; these spots are actually glowing.
The badger’s words had Astra almost jump to her seat before looking at them with concern. Her response was part justification and part apology, the former featuring her glancing over at Joy a few times throughout. The girl had picked up on the attention and scooted towards Sue at seeing the newcomer, her thoughts full of worry—and fear.
Whatever the badger was talking with Astra about, the dragon’s reply only left them more annoyed. Sue flinched at glimpsing violet flames flicker from the purple spots around their neck as they grumbled into their paw. Their response was short and rough, but it thankfully brought Astra some relief. With the dragon dealt with, they switched their attention to Kantaro’s handiwork—before spotting Sue in the corner of their vision.
I don’t like how this feels one bit.
Despite the chills that went through the Forest Guardian’s body, the newcomer’s mood did improve at seeing her. Their steps towards her were slow and clumsy, a scowl turning into a mild smile. Before Sue could react, they bowed as deeply as their elongated body would let them. Which was by no means little.
They accompanied their gesture with a greeting of sorts. Despite their slow and overly-enunciated words, the end result wasn’t any more understandable than any other time Sue’d seen them speak. The badger held their bow for several long, awkward moments until Astra’s brief comment finally clarified something, making them flinch.
Won’t hurt to speak up and drive the point home. Again.
“Hello, I-I can’t understand you,” Sue repeated, anxious. She swore she saw their eye twitch as they straightened out. Even as they composed their appearance, the emotions swirling under the surface turned sour to the point of contempt—much easier to sense than during their first interaction.
What the hell is your problem...
While Sue reeled from the encounter, the badger turned back towards Kantaro. The craftsbug hasn’t slowed down even slightly despite the latest arrival, busy adding decals all around what was turning out to be a small, empty shrine. Sue considered mentally reaching out towards Astra, but between reeling from the badger’s emotions and not wanting to draw their attention, she remained still.
Kantaro’s response to the badger’s words was curt but respectful. They even gave the newcomer a quick bow before resuming polishing the shrine’s wood. As they worked on, they continued to converse with the badger, the latter occasionally pointing at elements of their handiwork or at the large branch under which Astra had been napping moments prior.
Once Kantaro was done polishing the wood, they got to hanging small, flower-like tassels on dozens of small notches covering the shrine. They did a decent job mimicking the appearance of all the flowers at Duck’s main altar, even despite the much more limited color palette. With that menial step done, the pair’s discussion grew focused on a small block of differently colored wood that had been lying off to the side until now.
Once Kantaro and what had to have been their boss had reached some sort of agreement, the former got to work, carefully working away at the chunk of special wood. And, to nobody’s surprise, their carving soon began to take the form of Duck on a pedestal. The beetle’s powerful cuts grew increasingly more precise as the statue took form, the mastery within each stroke clear to see. Their skill made Sue quite giddy to watch, especially with an unfamiliar but pleasant aroma tingling her nose. Before long, she was itching to get back to her own crafts project, or at least check up on its progress.
What was a singular castle the last time she looked was now but a part of a larger fort. A long wall had sprouted out of it, snaking around to surround… the sleeping Comet. The tyke’s hair was full of sand after he’d taken a nap at some point, thankfully with enough foresight to build himself a little sand pillow first.
Joy giggled at seeing her big friend finally notice the progress of their construction efforts. She pointed at the fortifications surrounding the sleeping baby Martian, much to Sue’s amusement and approval. Before she could point more out, though, she looked up at Sue—and something else caught her attention.
Oh? Whattcha looking at, Joy—
The badger’s low, gruff voice cut Sue off before she could follow the line being drawn by Joy’s gaze. They were looking in her direction but not at her, honest-to-Duck violet fire surrounding the purple spots on their neck. And then, Sue heard drawn out, singsong whistling—from right behind her, no less.
She reflexively looked around her shoulder, only to see nothing. Her sixth sense sensed the amusement, some of which she’d thought was her own, move over to her other side. By the time she had looked over her other shoulder, though, the hidden creature had already slipped back into her blind spot, letting out more giggling whistles. The badger grew as annoyed as Sue was getting dumbfounded, shouting at the prankster with their neck flames bursting. Whatever was said, it finally prompted the prankster to make their entrance—right over Sue, at that.
Sue felt two large, smooth leaves press into her shoulders, a hefty chunk of weight following soon after. Her back didn’t appreciate being used as a springboard one bit, annoying her as she looked up at the offender—just in time for them to wrap up a backflip before landing with a perfect split, a handful of fruits falling back into their leafy arms shortly after.
They feel so giddy, so… teasing?
She remembered seeing them around yesterday, while Solstice was guiding her over to her tent. The same humanoid yet plant-like body, the same mouth-less head with a pink flower blooming on top of it, the same… cuteness radiating off them.
As much as Sue liked what she was seeing, the badger remained unimpressed by the stranger’s display. They kept grumbling, though each of their complaints was either ignored or deflected with a few whistled words each. In between arguing, the plant person kicked themselves off the ground and into a standing position, swaying in place as they eyed out Sue’s playgroup—and the once-human in particular.
Petal speaking up finally caught the plant… lady?’s attention, making them show off the fruity spoils in their arms. With a well-practiced motion, they tossed a single fruit up in the air in front of themselves, their arm glowing light green as it sliced the treat in half. Whichever magic they had just used had worn off just in time for them to catch the two halves before they hit the ground.
...don’t get cut on those arms, got it.
They spotted Sue’s awestruck look right away, whistling laugh making her feel... weird. Weirdly nice. A light smile crept onto her face in response, not even thinking of washing off as the leafy dancer passed two halves of a green fruit with orange flesh to Petal and Joy. Even if it should’ve been the bare minimum, the once-human felt much warmer at the sight of someone just being unconditionally nice to the metal girl.
They weren’t done with their fruit gifts. They then left two pried-apart halves of what looked like a comically oversized raspberry with Astra and beside the sleeping Comet, respectively. The dancer’s last gift, the peach—apparently named ‘Pecha’ from what she remembered Pollux say—was… handed over to Sue, in its entirety.
Wait, what?
“N-no, wait,” Sue stammered, “that’s not fair, you deserve some too,” before trying to tear the peach in two with her bare hands—only to be stopped by the plant girl’s smooth, slightly juice-stained arm cupping her cheek. A burning blush erupted on her cheeks as her attention was guided upwards, straight towards the dancer’s shaking head, the accompanying words conveying gratitude, but also disapproval.
Why did that feel so nice?
The message was understood perfectly, though Sue couldn’t deny feeling bad at hoarding an oversized part of the stranger’s gift. With her initial idea of expressing gratitude denied, she opted instead to bow at them, leaving them palpably happier. Their hand kept stroking Sue’s cheek and patting her green hair, not helping any with her fluster.
Off to the side, the badger only grew more annoyed with each passing moment, sternly speaking up again as the entire group got to eating. The dancer’s response was as upbeat as everything else they did, but much more forceful, capped with a pointed question back at the fiery badger.
Before the flames on their neck could burst again, Kantaro’s voice diffused the tension. They took a step away from their handiwork, revealing a sculpted likeness of the Pale Lady in a protective pose. A careful application of the polish even made Her weird wings look multicolored. The leafy dancer liked what they saw a great deal, and so did Astra, both of their responses upbeat and flattering.
Kantaro’s boss, on the other hand, merely acknowledged the beetle’s efforts with a short, approving comment. With that done, the craftsbug carefully deposited the sculpture in the freshly built shrine and prayed to it for a moment, together with the badger. The latter finally took their leave once their prayers were done, neck surrounded with purple embers as they grumbled into their paw.
Good riddance.
The dancer seemed to enjoy that development as much as Sue did. They spoke towards Astra, briefly chatting with her before… sitting down beside the Forest Guardian when she wasn’t looking. Before Sue knew it, the plant girl’s warm, smooth body was leaning on hers, tossing another jerry can of fuel onto her fluster.
…
She couldn’t say she disliked how it all felt, though. Not one bit.
Right as Sue’s hand was reaching around the leafy body to maybe possibly hopefully return some of the dancer’s affection, Kantaro’s gruff voice caught their attention instead. They sprung onto their yellow shoes from a sitting start and leaped towards the beetle, each motion as confident as it was elegant.
Alright, alright, snap yourself out of it Sue, they’re talking.
Kantaro drew something in the sand, clarifying their topic. Somewhat. To the best of Sue’s ability to make out, the subject of the beetle’s sketch was… the tip of their own horn. The depiction they drew was similar to their current one, but much more pointed, with a clean V shape at the top instead of a small prong between the two main ones. Kantaro drew attention to the differences by overlying the current shape of their horn on top of what must’ve been their desirable one. The leafy girl got the gist, going to work after one solid look at the reference. Their arm once more glowed green as it sliced away at the beetle’s horn, each cut small and careful.
Sue was stumped about the purpose of this… minor cosmetic surgery. It could’ve been something as straightforward as keeping the tool of the beetle’s trade well tended to, but Sue wasn’t convinced it was just that. There was the expected relief coming from Kantaro, but there also was… euphoria, vibrant to her sixth sense, even if well concealed in their expression.
The procedure was done in just a few minutes. After the last cut was applied, Kantaro looked at Astra for her to verify the new look, the deed done with an eager smile. They then glanced over at Sue for a second opinion, blinking a few times before realizing the futility of expecting any words from that particular Forest Guardian. Instead, they took a deep sigh and thanked the dancer, their ‘you’re welcome!’ just flat out pleasant to listen to.
I could definitely listen to it all day, at least.
With the horn-icure done, Kantaro turned around to inspect their handiwork once more, growing… annoyed at how it came out, somehow. Sue obviously didn’t have the technical knowledge to tell with certainty, but what she could see looked downright stunning. Hell, both Astra and the dancer clearly thought that, too—and yet, the sculpture’s own artist remained deeply unsatisfied with it.
They didn’t linger on that thought, thankfully. Instead, they got on with the other construction project of the agenda, grabbing the coils of rope and eyeing out the large, horizontal branch right above Astra. And then, they took to flight as if it was the most mundane thing in the world.
As Sue stared, dumbfounded, a cheerful call caught her attention. She glanced at its source, ending up staring face to face with the dancer from just an inch away, their words continuing all the while. Before she could even flinch, the stranger leaned in that bit further to nuzzle her cheek, ruffle her hair, and say their goodbyes. In just a few moments, they were bounding off further into Moonview, leaping their body’s length with each springy step, and before Sue even knew, she was once more left with just her thoughts.
One hand subconsciously reached up to feel the spot where the dancer had nuzzled her, a soft smile creeping onto her face. For once, Sue’s own thoughts caught more of her focus than Kantaro’s artistry ever could, mind kept going in circles over what had just happened, the sequence of events insane in hindsight.
All the affection came from nowhere, so much nicer than it had any right to be. As hard as Sue tried to will it away, the fluster on her cheeks wasn’t fading any time soon. With no explanations, she was left to ponder just what all that implied, and whether she wasn’t misrepresenting the dancer’s actions as something they weren’t.
Because it sure feels like I was just hit on again.
This time, though, it felt… different. Without being put on the spot, without several onlookers focusing on her, Sue… found herself considering it all so much more than Snowdrop’s advance. She had no idea about the stranger’s name, intent—hell, gender even, but… did any of those really matter? The more she thought about them, the less important they felt.
Sue was thinking about some of these topics for the very first time, what increasingly felt like her past life not exactly providing her with many opportunities to socialize romantically. Or non-shitty peers she could do so with, of any gender. She couldn’t even say she wasn’t enjoying thinking about all this, discovering what made her click in real time, but…
…
…
Her hand clenched into a fist as she chewed through the peach, thoughts taking a turbulent turn for the worse. The fruit’s sweet flesh turned bitter as more and more angst dripped into her thought stream.
Why here?
Why do I only get to think through these things here, in this batshit world!?
Why am I being shown affection here, with no knowledge about how long my stay in this world will be!? With any relationship I form here liable to disappear on a whim once whichever sadistic fuck of a deity that put me here decides it’s time for me to go back to suffering on Earth!?
Can I even trust anything I’m feeling?
That thought stung in particular, impossible to fully write off. Who knew, maybe this alien body processed romantic thoughts entirely differently. Maybe she was being manipulated by the very meat suit she woke up in. Maybe the moment she was back on Earth she would only feel revulsion when thinking back to this whole incident?
What if everything nice coming my way is entirely caused by me being an imposter of this revered species?
Sue almost doubled over in anguish at considering that idea, that every single nice thing coming her way was caused by something entirely outside her control. She didn’t even know whether she’d take that trade off, receiving any modicum of affection and romantic attention because of this awkward, weird body, versus being true with her accomplishments, her appearance, and her mind, just to get nothing but more struggle.
The worst part was that she wouldn’t even be the one to make that nightmarish choice in the end. Her Fate was entirely up to the whims of some god that seemed it fit to punish her for crimes unknown by forcing her to quell a conflict between two literal deities.
I’m going to kill that fucking god—
The last thing that Sue expected to hear in response to her god-hating moping was the—by now very familiar laughter. The sound took her aback as she looked up at the approaching Sundance. “That’s one hell of a topic to find you fixated on!” the vixen chuckled.
Sue couldn’t disagree; the religious reverence Moonview held towards Duck contrasted hard with her deicidal thoughts. Hell, there literally was a brand new shrine within a stone’s throw of her. With every passing moment, the mismatch diffused more and more of her anger, grumbles giving way to low chuckling. “Heh. Yeah, I can i-imagine...” she mumbled.
“That’s the type of subject you normally only ever see me pondering about. How are you doing, Sue, after yesterday?” Sundance asked.
Once enough tension had left her body, Sue smiled over at the vixen as she took a seat beside her. She had the same pipe she saw yesterday on her, with, to the best of her nose’s ability to tell, the same payload. “I’m... alright, I think. How’s Solstice?”
Sundance nodded at the offhanded acknowledgement, taking a deeper hit of her pipe before responding. “She’s better, thankfully. Still needs more time to finish processing it all, but should be alright before the end of the day. It was... a lot, for all three of us. I certainly don’t see a point in rushing any of it along. If you want to confide in someone about what happened yesterday, I’m all ears, Sue.”
“Yeah,” Sue began, before a vile pun crept out of the recesses of her mind, “you are. But yeah, th-thank you, Sundance. I-I promise, I’m better now.”
Once the vixen was done grumbling, she nodded. “I’m glad. In the meantime, we’ve figured out a plan for what to do going forward.”
“About what?” Sue asked, earning herself a raised eyebrow and a telepathic response.
“^The night kin. Ultimately, we have to make a first step somewhere. We’ve settled on venturing to Newmoon tomorrow morning to bring the subject up.^”
“Don’t they all hate her?”
“^Not all,^” Sundance sighed. “^Yes, there’s definitely some animosity there, which makes it even more important to face it, overcome the hesitation, and work on mending the wound at the root of it all. It’ll be unpleasant, maybe even awful, but it’s the only way through.^”
Still, Sue couldn’t help but worry. “Won’t she get hurt?” she asked—and flinched, feeling a bitter pang of disappointment run through Sundance’s mind for the first time since she woke up in this world.
The vixen shook her head. “^No, of course not. Yes, they dislike her, but they’re not monsters. Some of them resent what happened a lot, of course, resent her—but even then, they won’t murder her in response to a bloodless exile. Thorns isn’t the type, and Juniper…^” Sundance took a deep hit of her pipe, shuddering, “^…she’ll get herself together once we lay out what we’re there for. I’m sure of it.^”
Sue didn’t question it anymore, taking the words in with a deflated nod. Sundance’s light disapproval gave way to a desire to steer the conversation towards something more pleasant, and the humorously morbid topic from earlier was just the right thing. “^So, god killing, eh?^” the vixen asked, as jovially as she could manage. “^What got you to consider that?^”
Sue sighed, “I-it’s... complicated.”
“^As most things are.^”
“But, wait—is it possible?”
The vixen took another hit of her pipe as she chewed through the intricacies of Sue’s question, unearthing third or fourth hand knowledge from back when she was still traveling the world. Despite her heavy doubts about the trustworthiness of anything she was about to say, she eventually decided to just pass it on. “^From what I know and have gathered from mystics I spoke with during my travels... no. At least, not in a way you can kill a person.^”
Sue blinked. “Is there another way, then?” she asked.
“^I suppose if you were to destroy everything that comprises them, that would ‘kill’ them,^” Sundance mused. “^Their avatars certainly can fall, but the gods themselves... fat chance.^”
“Comprises them?”
The vixen raised her eyebrow at her pupil. “^Well, how do you think gods exist? That they just float in the sky, gathering praise and occasionally intervening in mortal affairs?^”
“...pretty much.”
Sundance choked on her smoke as her deliberately outlandish guess accidentally nailed Sue’s presumptions on the head. Once she got over herself, though, she clarified, “^No, not at all. Gods aren’t... separate from the world, they are the world. Or rather, the world is a part of them, as are the people. The dirt and stone beneath us is all a part of the Landshaper, it’s all Its dominion. Even then, the Landshaper exists beyond just the ground we’re sitting on, It has Its own will, even if that will is tied to the will of all the stone beneath us. You can’t kill Landshaper short of destroying every single rock that comprises this world—and I doubt even that would do the trick either.^”
The Forest Guardian had to chew on that piece of knowledge to even start absorbing it. The entire description sounded partially like something from when she was reading up on animism for her religious studies class, but it was far from an exact match. Ultimately, she just slowly nodded along as a partial picture formed in her mind.
“^Furthermore, there isn’t just one Landshaper with a unified will. Everywhere you go, It will be different, for Its dominion is different. All Landshapers will be greatly influenced by Its innate, divine nature, of course, but still not identical.^”
“I-I see,” Sue lied. “You mentioned ‘avatars’, right?”
“^Aye. They’re the physical manifestations of divine will. Partially independent from their dominion, and even from their divine nature, and yet still ultimately constrained by them. If you’re wondering what the being on the altar and all the shrines of Night Mother is, that’s Her avatar,^” Sundance explained, taking another hit.
Sue blinked, confused. “Are these avatars just... out there?”
“^From what I understand, no.^” The vixen shook her head. “^They manifest when a deity’s will wishes to intervene directly into worldly matters, and fade away when they’re no longer needed. They aren’t identical to the deity they belong to, acting independently even if heavily influenced by their underlying divinity.^”
Sue couldn’t even pretend to understand the entirety of what she was being told. Partially to her credit, though, not even her mentor could claim that. “What about D—the Pale Lady? What’s her dominion?”
The vixen lifted an eyebrow up at the once-human, chuckling under her breath. “^The light of the Moon, from what I understand. Obviously, it’s a much more limited dominion than the land, the stars, or even the Moon as a whole. It’s so fickle, and the Night Mother is so feeble when compared to other deities that, to the best of my understanding, her worshipers are effectively her real dominion. I think I’ve heard the phrase ‘half-god’ used to describe such a being once or twice. You won’t catch me ever saying it out loud in here, that’s for sure.^”
“Her worshippers...?” Sue trailed off, an idea forming in her mind. “W-wait, if I’m getting this right, then what happens to the worshippers affects... their god?”
“^Aye. They’re a part of her. For half-gods, to wound the people, is to wound their god.^”
The Forest Guardian mulled intently through the implications as her mentor watched over, amused at having elicited such a thoughtful mood inside her student. While the vixen watched Kantaro finish working on the swing, a realization bloomed inside Sue.
If Moonview’s people are a part of Duck, and what they do, what they are, what they believe, can affect her, a nd if that also holds true for the Night Father—no reason it wouldn’t with the two gods seemingly two parts of the same coin…
To wound the people is to wound the gods. To mend the people…
Is to mend the gods.
“I’m coming with you!” Sue shouted, inspired.
Sundance blinked as she looked down at Sue, the steadily creeping mental fog not helping in making sense of her pupil’s sudden outburst. “Wh-what?”
“I-I want to help you and Solstice with... y’know, your trip!” Sue insisted, but Sundance was still confused.
Even if the fiery fox understood what Sue was actually referring to, her snap decision still left so much unclear. Why would Sue want to do this in the first place? Why so suddenly, why so enthusiastically? Did she even know what Newmoon was like? Or, for that matter, where it even was?
The totality of unexplained and potentially unexplainable questions brewing inside Sundance eventually reached its zenith, culminating in a single word—
“...what?”