“^I wouldn’t have thought you would grow even more insolent towards your mother... Snowmoon.^”
Despite standing a few feet away, Sue felt Solstice shudder at the stranger’s words, adding even more confusion to her increasingly terrified mind. The Mayor’s reaction didn’t settle there, though, overcoming fear and blossoming into fierce determination, underlined with cold resentment. If nothing else, it let Sue know her mentor had things under control.
Unfortunately, the younger Forest Guardian’s certainty didn’t extend to the little ones around her.
Comet couldn’t resist contracting the surrounding fear, absorbing emotions like a sponge until they filled his tiny body to the point of tears. He didn’t cry, instead only following Twinkle’s steps and clinging even closer to their guardian. Behind Sue, Joy wasn’t as terrified, but she more than made up for that in restless anxiety. She took a moment to remember which of her tall friend’s legs had been injured recently before clinging to the other one, only braving brief glimpses at the stranger from behind her dress.
“^Leave, Solanum, and take your hatred elsewhere!^” Solstice boomed, trying to keep the children out of the conversation. Sue wasn’t sure why she’d responded to a different name or who said ‘Solanum’ was, but whatever the exact relationship between the two Forest Guardians was, it was drenched in grudges and misery, intense enough to turn onlookers’ heads.
To the regret of everyone who recognized her, Solanum only scoffed at the Mayor’s words. “^Your delusional fantasies might have already swallowed you whole, Snowmoon, but I will not let my grandson be bathed in the same heresy that had claimed Aurora—^”
It was only then that she had properly noticed the third Forest Guardian on the scene, and everyone’s hearts skipped a beat.
Freezing fear gripped Sue’s body as Solanum’s gaze drilled into her. The dispassionate mockery in the other Forest Guardian’s expression first turned into genuine shock, and then gradual anger as she put the pieces together. Before the once-human could even react, she felt her mind be forcefully pried open as if it were a tin can, its contents spilling out to anyone who bothered looking. Her thoughts, desires, fears, and secrets, taken by force and examined by a hateful eye to the backdrop of Comet's alarmed cries, the sensation painful and overwhelming enough to almost make Sue collapse there and then—
Only to feel Solstice’s mental grip embrace her as it cut the mental assault off, leaving her lightheaded and unsure of what the hateful intruder had seen. Whatever it was, though, it only made Solanum scoff harder. “^No, not her...^” she whispered, her words cutting into Sue’s and Solstice’s psyches alike. “^A stray mutt, bereft of the Pale Lady’s blessings, yet wearing our symbols on her flesh.^”
The words were enough to compel the Mayor to take another step forward, her voice equal parts biting and trying to hide a building panic. “^She has no part in this, Solanum.^”
“^And yet, she is holding my family in her arms,^” Solanum muttered in return, eyes narrowing on Sue. “^You being a fool does not surprise me, Snowmoon, but to let someone like this look after your offspring... You have already learned the consequences of opposing the Pale Lady’s will once, and yet you can’t resist begging for it to happen again.^”
Solstice’s buttons were thoroughly pressed, burning her cold resentment into an ever more intense, yet constantly silent anger. Her arms clenched, her body shook, her soul grappled with itself to hide her greatest insecurities from being struck so offhandedly once more. Sue could only keep inching backwards, only pushing past her ‘freeze’ reaction one tiny step at a time. As her body barely made any progress, her mind couldn’t help but wonder—was Solanum really insinuating what Sue thought she was?
Was she threatening Solstice and Moonview as a whole with the plague?
The Mayor wasn’t deaf to Sue’s rumination; hearing her own fears being stated so plainly undermined her confidence. And yet, she persevered—this wasn’t her first time dealing with this particular unwelcome guest. Before she could mount a response or Sue’s panicky mind could force her legs to run, though, they and all onlookers saw someone turn the corner from behind Solanum. Someone whose appearance the younger Forest Guardian most definitely did not recognize.
Their humanoid build was much bulkier than her own or Sundance’s, without crossing into Willow’s kind of chubby. They were the most human-like out of any locals Sue had seen yet, but the general build was mostly where the similarities ended. Their short coat was vibrant yellow, gleaming in the sunlight and making it rather difficult to look at them. A thick white mane surrounded their neck, looking as plush as it did feral—and so did the pointed, triangular ears. Tiny eyes and massive nose completed what Sue could make of their head, making them look old, especially in tandem with a slightly hunched posture.
A brief glint of something metallic wrapped around their arm snagged Sue’s attention and wouldn’t let go. At least, not until she noticed the yellow stranger’s attention being similarly enraptured with her, if briefly. They physically reeled back at the sight, only regaining composure after Solanum glanced at them from the corner of her eye and shook her head.
Solstice speaking up once more cut off any further examination of the newcomer. “^If you think I will let your fanaticism hurt anyone here again, Solanum, you are sorely mistaken.^” She then turned to face the newcomer as they took a stand beside Solanum. Her expression and mind alike jumped haphazardly between regret, sadness, and hope, before once more returning to her anger-hardened determination.
Hardened further mere moments later.
“^Snowmoon, dear,^” the newcomer psychically spoke, his voice soft and weathered, “^you have maintained this insane facade for so very long. Does your heart not ache to return home? To atone for your transgressions before the Pale Lady, to restore your honor in her eyes?^”
Home?
It was only then that all the pieces fell into place for Sue, leaving her gasping quietly under her breath as her mentor flinched. Flinched, and narrowed her eyes at the yellow psychic, her mental voice sharpened by hurt. “^I am home, Luneth. And you are trespassing.^”
The words were what the onlookers needed to turn lively, either approaching the newcomers or backing off from the scene entirely. It was enough for Solstice to drop her fierce mask for but an instant, to finally address Sue once more—and hurry her away. “^Sue, to Sundance’s den, please.^”
To their shared relief, the nudge was just what the younger Forest Guardian needed. She backed off a step, and another, before finally breaking into the fastest jog she could manage with full arms and an even fuller mind, stumbling through the side streets while Joy dashed behind her, crying out as she tried to keep up. The words exchanged moments prior echoed through her mind, growing ever more deafening with each repetition, bringing forth not just idle disagreements but active threats if she’d understood them right.
Have they really threatened us all? Is this a prelude to an all-out attack?
Any worries Sue once had about the Forest Guardians’ destructive capabilities came back in full force, the effortlessness with which Solanum had forced her way into her thoughts nauseating in hindsight. Sue was used to Solstice and Sundance overhearing bits and pieces of what was going on in there now and again, but this was different; this was malicious, almost intense enough to leave her on the ground—and it wasn’t even anything physical! Solstice could lift her entire body up with ease; who says that someone stronger than that couldn’t tear her apart with sheer force on a whim? Or scorch her with the fire magic her mentor had shown bits of in the past, or kill her in any other of the uncountable ways this terrible world was capable of—
“S-Sue!” a dry, shrill scream rang out from behind her, stopping her mid-step.
Her heart skipped a beat as she turned around, watching as Joy finally caught up to her on the verge of tears, immediately clinging to her leg. She wanted to do something to comfort her, anything, but between her own fear and the urgency in Solstice’s command, she wasn’t sure what she even could do.
Pushing her already overworked mind further, she haphazardly linked it with the metal girl, whispering as she kept her voice as calm as she could. “I’m here Joy, I’m here. I’m sorry for running, but—but we need to keep moving. Sundance’s house isn’t far, and once we’re there, we can rest, but now we need to walk some more, okay?” Worries swirled in her head, about what the little one would think of her, whether that remark would cause any further panic in itself and how she’d even deal with it if it had. But, for once, her worries were unfounded.
Joy nodded shakily as she let go of Sue’s leg, fidgeting hands holding each other with her guardian’s out of range. She was still scared, but Sue was clear—they had to keep going. “Thank you, Joy. I love you,” Sue whispered, sharing relief with the little one in response to those three oh-so-important words.
As she picked herself up, she gently placed a hand on Twinkle's disguise to check how they were doing. They felt rattled and withdrawn, only daring to extend a single tiny tendril to hold her and pulling it back immediately once she took her touch away. Comet kept clinging tight to her shoulder, nervously looking around to try to spot the threat everyone else was so afraid of.
Motivated to get the little ones to safety, Sue looked skyward, scanning what she could make out of the neighboring skyline in search of the vixen’s den. It wasn’t in sight yet, but a few structures within sight of it were, and that’s where Sue’s attention was focused. Before long, she was walking steadily again, with Joy keeping up beside her and putting on the bravest expression she could manage in all her fear.
Her mind was about to return to its earlier pondering, to imagining everything terrible the strangers’ arrival could foretell—but it wouldn’t get to do that. Right as her heart began to calm down, it was kicked into a higher gear again as an obstacle appeared before her in time it took her to blink, right as she was about to turn the corner.
The dark green limb was shaped like an arc, with a point on one end and a distressingly familiar three fingered hand on the other. Whether its outer edge was sharp, Sue neither knew nor ever wanted to find out, especially with it sticking horizontally in the air at her neck level, the pointed end striking the nearby bricked wall hard enough to leave cracks.
And even more so with the rest of the person revealing themselves soon after.
Sue took a half step back as they followed their arm around the corner, their slow, nonchalant movements giving her the terrifying feeling they’d been waiting for her. They easily had a foot on her, and that didn’t even include the gray protrusion at the top of their head—their Forest Guardian head. However used to her kin’s red eyes Sue might’ve been, the stranger’s glare rekindled all her earlier fears and more.
Neither their different, bulkier build, nor the different hue of their skin even registered in Sue’s mind—their dimly glowing blue tattoos and crimson eyes captured her attention whole, filling her with more and more terror. Their focused expression turned into a sinister, gleeful smile as they took her in, leering at her as if she was a juicy piece of meat on display. Terrifying as that was, though, it soon turned into something else, something worse—disgust.
“^I have no idea who you are,^” they began, their low, gruff voice dripping with contempt, “^but you best have a reason to be touching my nephew.^” Their grimace only deepened as they examined her tattoo-less body, her discolored hair, the patterns carved into the pleats of her dress, her psychic ineptitude.
The Limb Eater behind her.
“^Especially with that filthy beast behind you.^”
Sue gasped as she suddenly felt her head be grasped strongly enough to leave her with a headache. The sound didn’t even register to her, though, not with Joy’s pained cry occupying every fiber of her being. She wanted to act, to do something except inch backwards away from the stranger, to repel the threat. But she couldn’t.
She pried her eyes away from the encroaching threat for but a moment, trying to make sure the metal girl was okay—and found her grasping her front head with her tiny arms, tears running down her face as she shook in place; the dandelion once tied into her curl laying torn to shreds beside her.
A low, amused chuckle tore her eyes away from the little one—and brought her face to face with the tall stranger, now so close to her the tips of their red horns were almost touching. They—he—continued, expression shifting to grim amusement at seeing Sue’s terror, “^Someone like you has no business touching a blessed child. The Pale Lady would be reviled to hear that.^”
Sue’s and Joy’s mental anguish continued as Comet cried out, inadvertently feeling his friends’ pain. The stranger only shot him the briefest flash of disgust before he grew quiet, little body shaking as he clung to Sue. “^But, who knows, maybe there’s hope for you if you just give him up and let me claim you, you filth,^” he threatened, despair blossoming in Sue’s body in response. She could barely breathe at the nauseating undertones in his words, trying desperately to come up with words only to be unable to.
He slowly reached his hand towards her face, as if to cup her chin, “^So, what do you say? The Pale Lady always welcomes more offspring to bless—^”
*crACK!*
The sudden sound, paired with the stranger’s gasp of pain, broke through Sue’s stasis. She skittered back, half kneeling and half collapsing on the trodden path as she pulled Joy in close, the psychic headache finally fading for both of them. With Joy in her arms, Sue finally looked up to see what had happened—and saw Lilly reeling back her leg; the stranger’s knee now twisted at an unnatural angle.
With a quick dash, the dancer slid in between Sue and her attacker, arms raised up in a guard as she whistled loudly. Her stance was steadfast, but even it began to shake once the stranger recovered from and processed her strike; earlier disgusting flirting replaced with seething fury. Sue saw Lilly slightly bow her head as it shook, almost as if it was being forcibly moved, her whistles not letting any pain through.
The stranger shouted, “^How DARE YOU lay a hand on the Pale Lady’s chosen, you reta—^”
“^Nightbane.^”
Solstice’s voice froze everyone on the scene as she walked past Sue, leaving the younger Forest Guardian and her friend sighing in relief. Sue wasn’t sure if the earlier situation had grown even worse or if it was because of the now-named Nightbane, but her mentor’s fierce resentment had become something else, molten into a raging fury so vibrant she was only barely stopping herself from lashing out with utmost force.
It might’ve been only barely, but Solstice was still stopping herself—and Nightbane knew that. “^Well well well, look who finally decided to greet her brother,^” he taunted, slowly talking backwards as he stared smugly at her. “^Perhaps I really shouldn’t have expected any better than thrusting your own children to a pit for a Limb Eater to dine on! Maybe expecting anything from you, Snowmoon, was just me being foolish~.^”
“^Begone,^” the Mayor boomed, fierce enough to send chills through even Sue despite the words having been aimed away from her.
And Nightbane felt them too, his composed facade fading for a moment to reveal genuine worry—though it didn’t last long. “^You’ll regret this, Snowmoon~.^” Without skipping a beat, he backed off behind the corner he’d originally crept out of before breaking into a limping run, leaving everyone else staring in shock at the spot he’d been in moments before.
It was only after a minute or so, long after neither Sue nor Solstice could sense him anymore, did anyone dare to move again.
Lilly took the first step, turning on a heel and crouching beside Sue, pulling her and all the children she was trying to comfort into as gentle an embrace as she could. Solstice followed suit shortly after, shivering as she assessed the situation—and focused on Joy, the little one still whimpering quietly. She gave the metal girl space, sitting down beside Sue before slowly reaching a hand towards Joy as her psychics carefully pulled Comet out of Sue’s hold. With her child in her arms, she properly linked everyone gathered, including one little one off to the side that was only now catching up with her big sister, and focused to soothe any pains they all might’ve been feeling.
Joy panted deeply as the last of her psychic headache was dispelled. She clung to Sue, confused and scared. Twinkle also felt better, but that was more so because of all the chaos and noises finally easing out, letting them finally dare reach out a single tendril and wrap it around as much of Sue and Joy as they could manage. Comet received the tightest hug Solstice was capable of; any of Nightbane’s stray mental influence washing off into quiet tears as wordless reassurance flowed freely from his mom.
For a few moments, the scene remained quiet, passersby aside, with Lilly and Solstice waiting until they were sure Sue and the little ones were alright. It was the younger Forest Guardian that finally broke that silence, tears streaking down her face as she held Joy tight, whispering, “Y-you’re beautiful, Joy, y-you’re not a—not filth, I-I promise...”
Sue wanted to scream at what she’d just been subjected to, at the unspeakable fear that she was about to become a statistic—but Joy took priority, now and always. The little one took her time calming down, with each repetition of her guardian’s words, each gentle touch undoing a little bit of her earlier terror. Alas, she would never be granted full release from it; she would never be allowed to forget this—but at least this way it wouldn’t haunt her every night for months at a time.
At least, so Sue hoped.
She wanted to do more, to promise Joy that nobody would hurt her as long as she was around—but she couldn’t. After all, she had already lied like that to her at least once. Reality just stepped in and proved how little she could really do to stop harm from coming to those she loved; why would she lie like that again?
She didn’t look up as she felt someone else join their little huddled group, their aura not entirely alien to her, but hardly one she knew well. It was only when the tiny newcomer whistled, “What happened?” did she finally look up at them—at her, recognizing the little plant bud child from around the place.
Didn’t realize how similar she and Lilly look, at least face-wise.
Petal’s question helped break the shell-shocked stasis the group was in as Lilly took her into her arms, shaking her head. “Not know, Petal. Bad person, mean and want attack Sue—and know Solstice,” Lilly realized, perking up as she looked at the Mayor. Emotions stirred in her at the realization, everything from anger at Sue and the little ones having been mistreated like that, to despair at her having only barely managed to do anything, to fear at it all possibly happening again.
Lilly needed answers, and Solstice had them. “Who that was, Solstice!?” she asked, raising her voice more than intended and regretting it immediately afterwards.
The Mayor flinched at the hostile—but not wholly unearned—tone. She didn’t want to talk about this; she didn’t even want to think about any of what had just happened—but Lilly deserved to know. Sue deserved to know, to be aware of just how rotten the tree that had borne her mentor was. “That,” Solstice began, out of breath, “...that was my family. My mother and father earlier at the clearing, and—and now, my b-brother,” she explained, only barely keeping herself from letting fury consume her again.
The leafy dancer and child both gasped in unison at the revelation, Joy whimpered quietly, and Sue... softly nodded. The pieces haven’t been exactly difficult to piece together, even if it took her mentor’s clarification to fill in some of the remaining holes. In hindsight, with what Solstice and Sundance had told her, she wasn’t surprised for them to have acted the way they had—at least, not on a detached, logical level.
On an emotional level, on a level where she had a hard time imagining how people like that existed despite rationally knowing they did, she was shrieking in confused pain. Not wanting to dwell on either that or her own powerlessness, she forcibly shook her head, redirecting her thoughts to a more productive territory. “Wh-why was he—why were they here?” Sue asked, her warbling voice making both Lilly and Solstice slide closer.
To their shared chagrin, her mentor didn’t have anywhere near as much an answer as she wanted to. “I don’t know what or who compelled them to show up right now, with everything else going on, but it seems they want the same thing as always,” she explained, wincing at recalling their previous visits. “They’ve been trying to pressure me to come back to my tribe, or to at least ‘give back’ my children for as long as I’ve been here.”
That much made sense with what Sue had seen so far, but one part of Solstice’s explanation stood out to her, immediately inviting further worry. “W-wait, they’ve been here before?” she asked, aghast.
Solstice silently nodded. “Yes. I’ve lost count of how many times they have taunted me like this, how many times they’ve shown up demanding I give in to their ways. Has to be close to a dozen by now. I thought that after they showed up last time, a few months after—after the plague struck, they would finally decide to leave me alone. But... they seemed to be aware of Comet. I’ve no idea who or what clued them in, but if I get my hands on them, I’ll—no, no, I—I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me,” she lied.
It was Sue’s turn to administer much-needed comfort. She laid her free hand on her mentor’s shoulder, giving her as confident a smile as she could manage. “I-I’d say your anger is more than understandable, Solstice.”
“Lilly always told me to be open with feelings!” Petal added, her words sounding like an even higher-pitched version of Lilly.
“Very, yes!” Lilly assured.
The Mayor slowly nodded as she took the reassurance in, culminating with a weak sigh. She wanted to be better than this, to not descend to her family’s level, but that was always easier said than done. “I suppose,” she offhandedly replied, changing the subject. “At least one comfort in all this is that they’ve never accomplished anything more than sowing doubt here and there. I doubt that’ll change, especially after what you’ve accomplished yesterday, Sue, but I’m... I’m still a bit worried.”
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Warmth filled Sue at her mentor’s comment; the resulting moment of brief bliss transferred to the little ones in her arms with as gentle a touch as she could manage. To be commended on something like that felt good on its own, to have Solstice do that felt—
No. Not the time for that.
“No worry here!” Lilly beamed, scooting up to Sue with Petal in her arms. “They rude and mean, listen nobody.”
“I’d like to think that, yes...” Solstice sighed. She opened her mouth, about to continue to finish the thought, before stopping herself and taking a deep breath. Lilly was right—they wouldn’t be eliciting any sympathy this time, and a much better choice of action than worrying about ‘what ifs’ was to ensure that fact with their actions. “You’re right, Lilly. Many in Moonview have already seen and had the displeasure of interacting with them in the past, and for those that haven’t... I suppose talking to people and giving them a heads-up about my family would help ensure their rhetoric won’t get its hooks in people.”
The dancer nodded with her entire body. “Like that I,” she exclaimed, about to stand up and get to spreading the word before remembering she had a Forest Guardian to comfort. Sue was still clearly rattled after what she’d been through, and Lilly was not under any illusion that a few moments of physical comfort would be enough to wash it all out of her mind, but she still wanted to do what she could, here and for everyone else.
Sue, meanwhile... deeply appreciated Lilly’s presence. She leaned on her more and more by the minute, hoping she wouldn’t notice. Even beyond Solstice’s motherly protection, Lilly’s willingness to protect her even while putting herself in danger was comforting. It was something Sue had no wishes of ever being put to the test again, but seeing it be backed with action only blossomed more feelings towards the leafy farmhand inside her.
Lilly did notice Sue leaning on her—basically right away, even—but knew better than to do anything but silently smile at that.
As they all finished getting a grip on themselves, a chirped voice from nearby picked up the discussion. “By Night Mother’s feathers, you can count on me too, ma’am Solstice! If that bunch ever try laying a hand on a child again, stars be my witness that mere glaring will be the last thing on my mind!”
Sue might not have recognized the speaker by ear even remotely, but the moment she looked up at the nearby roof, her eyes immediately filled in the villager’s identity. The blue cloud bird wasn’t someone she had any particular feelings about before yesterday, but after seeing the way they—she looked at her at the playground, she wasn’t sure whether she was capable of anything better than slight animosity towards them.
Still, the bird clearly stood by what she’d said, even after noticing Sue and awkwardly looking away from her afterwards, an apologetic expression struggling to find the right words. Solstice noticed the weird atmosphere between Sue and the caretaker, but shook it aside, choosing to thank her instead. “Thank you, Cirrus,” she weakly smiled.
“Not a problem, ma’am Solstice! After what that brute had done to poor Joy, my wings are positively itching to dispense a dragon’s justice!” Cirrus sang.
As Sue wracked her head, trying to figure out which between the lanky blue bird and a small mobile cloud had anything to do with dragons, her mentor let out a faint chuckle. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I strongly doubt it’ll ever be needed. For all their threats, intimidation, and combat prowess, they’re much too cowardly to ever openly fight with how badly outnumbered they’d be.”
The gathered adults nodded more or less in unison. Sue was the most hesitant, noticing the unspoken ‘but’ in Solstice’s words—a ‘but’ that then grew in intensity in her mind, bringing with itself fear, and a lot of it. She scooted closer to the Mayor, wanting to reassure her that her logic checked out and that her family was unlikely to take the entirety of Moonview on. And then; she stopped—something was off. This wasn’t that kind of fear; this was something deeper, more visceral, less of a conscious worry, and more of a flashback.
Solstice shook as she looked Sue and Lilly straight in the eye, her telepathic voice wavering. “^Wh-whatever you do, do not let Nightbane c-corner you alone. Scream, thrash, fight—don’t let him.^”
Of the two, only Sue knew what her mentor might’ve been implying, blood draining from her face. She wanted to speak up, ask Solstice if she was alright—but her mentor spoke up first, forcibly washing the traumatic subject from her mind as she addressed Cirrus again. “S-still, thank you, Cirrus. I-If possible, talking to people you know and trust would be preferable, just letting them know what—what Nightbane and the rest of my family had done.” Without skipping a beat, she then took a deep breath and stood up, gradually calming down as she instructed, “^Let’s get going. I doubt sitting here will do us any good, especially since there’s an outfit for Twinkle to be made. Eh, Sue?^”
Sue was almost dizzy from following her mentor’s turbulent emotions, trying to focus on her suggestion instead. After Nightbane’s actions, she didn’t want to let go of Joy for preferably the next forever, and neither did the girl want to let go of her with how tired she now was, but her weight, combined with her guardian’s weakness, made getting up something of a challenge.
A challenge that Lilly helped them with without skipping a beat, lifting Sue onto her legs before she could even think to ask her. Fluster was the last thing Sue expected to be feeling after what had just happened, but she couldn’t deny appreciating that emotional distraction. “Th-thank you, Lilly,” she giggled quietly, to the dancer’s delight.
“Welcome, you!”
As they got going, an idea struck Sue, one just a few moments too late. She had neither the physical reach nor the mental dexterity to pull it off at the moment, not with both her hands occupied by the metal girl. The older Forest Guardian didn’t skip a beat before giving her a psychic hand, swiftly unwrapping the dandelion from her hair before tying it into Joy’s, replacing the torn flower. Joy didn’t outwardly react to the gesture, and Sue considered asking her to thank Solstice for that, but this wasn’t the time for that.
Still—thanks, Solstice.
To Sue's relief and chagrin alike, she wasn't the only one worried about the girl in her arms. Now that the earlier tension had eased out, Twinkle dared reaching out from their hiding spot once more—and extended their affection towards Joy, an inky tentacle gently holding her leg.
With the air temporarily cleared, keeping it free from earlier tension was paramount—and for that, they needed a distraction. “Lilly,” Sue spoke up, the leafy dancer slinking up to her side before she could finish taking a breath, “is Petal your sister, or...?”
“Sister, yes!” Petal squeaked, sending Lilly into whistling giggles.
“Are you two from around here?” Sue continued. She wasn’t sure which of the answers she was expecting more, but between asking about the place her friend had come from and asking about who in the village she was related to, either answer would’ve provided more than enough to talk about.
To her surprise, Lilly took a moment to think through her words, the plant bud in her arms looking up at her expectantly. “From far, think I. Not all sure.”
That... wasn’t an answer Sue was expecting, a tingling in the back of her head making her follow that thread. “Well, what was that place like?”
“Oh, it was a big mountain field!” Petal cut in, her big sister twirling as they both thought back to what they once called home. “Very big and calm, a-and there were many of our kin there! Really safe.”
“That sounds quite idyllic,” Sue muttered, keeping her reactions low-key enough to not give any hints towards her own secrets. “In that case, why’d you come over here—i-if that’s alright for me to ask, of course, you don’t have to—”
“Worry not, Sue, can answer!” Lilly reassured, briefly pulling the Forest Guardian into a gentle, one-armed hug. “Can answer, but... not know, think I.”
If Lilly’s earlier responses had caught Sue’s attention, this detail left her staring at the leafy dancer hawk-eyed, trying her hardest to keep her shocked expression to a minimum. “Y-you don’t know why you left?” Sue asked, her voice wavering. She caught Solstice looking over from her own mental struggles to pay attention to the discussion taking place, the similarities to Sue’s circumstances not lost on the older Forest Guardian.
“Not all know,” Lilly clarified. “Other my kin angry, remember I, then me and Petal left. Not remember walk here—Petal very very small, me angry. Anger make bad memory.”
And she doesn’t remember how she got here either...
Sue wasn’t expecting her best lead in the mystery of how she was brought here to be the farmhand her heart was growing closer to by the moment. It was an exciting possibility, but also one that risked putting Lilly off if she were to ask too many, too prying questions—and that’s without even considering the risk of revealing her own secrets. With that in mind, Sue went back to an earlier topic, hoping to spot more parallels between herself and her friend. “Y-yeah, it’s really not. D-do you think your f-family is worried about you and Petal?”
To Sue’s relief, Lilly’s reaction was very light-spirited—but also a bit mortifying with how confident her head shaking was. “No, think not! There, no family like here. Many many my kin everywhere in big mountain grassland. Everyone help everyone, everyone care everyone. Who parent who, not know.”
...
Well, there goes the possibility of her having once been a human.
“I-I see,” Sue pretended, the actual mental image not sitting right in her mind. Some of her confusion was caused by the less-than-precise phrasing on Lilly’s end, but even beyond that, trying to imagine what she had described proved challenging. Collectively raising children was one thing, but to the degree that nobody even knew who anyone’s parents were just felt... wrong to her human sensibilities. Even with her emotional reaction being as strong as it was, though, she wasn’t under any delusions that she was the best judge of how a wholly different, entirely non-human species raised their offspring.
It just felt... odd.
Though, now that she’d thought some more about it—mostly against her will—Sue couldn’t help but ask about an earlier detail. “If everyone was helping each other, then why were others of your kin angry at you?”
As unphased as Lilly was about the earlier questions, this one finally touched on something she was much more self-conscious of, an almost imperceptible shudder going through her body. Sue may not have had a hand to spare at the moment, but she did the best thing she could in the heat of the moment, walking up to the dancer and offering her a warm smile. “I promise, you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”
“Can answer,” Lilly insisted, straightening her back and scooting closer to the Forest Guardian, her presence helping her regain confidence. “Think just my talking. Not talk good here, not sing good there. Not keep tune anywhere. Not like me others. One day I take Petal and run—think I.”
Sue nodded firmly. Guess that explained why Lilly felt so insecure about the way she talked. There were still many question marks in her recollection of the events, many similarities the once-human would love to prod at some other time, but they didn’t have the time for that—Sundance’s dwelling was finally coming up ahead.
“Ooo, we here!” Lilly cheered—and sighed in disappointment, turning around to face Sue again. “Sorry Sue, need run for duties! Help harvest, gather food for N-new—night town,” she elaborated, struggling with the village name until finally admitting verbal defeat.
Any disappointment Sue might’ve felt at her crush friend taking off was immediately overshadowed by the explanation of what she’d be doing today, though. “W-wait, you’ll be gathering crops for Newmoon?”
“Indeed,” Solstice answered for Lilly. “If everything goes right, we’ll have many carts’ worth of supplies for Newmoon by tomorrow morning. Transporting them all there won’t be easy, especially with the only path we know of being barely wide enough for one person, but we’ll figure something out.
“And I help!” Lilly pridefully added, her chin raised high with her leafy hands on her hips. “Strong, can carry cart!”
“C-can I come too?” Petal chimed in, her quiet squeaks sounding dizzy after being constantly moved between her sister’s arms.
Alas, the lil’ plant bud’s idea was only met with firm shakes of denial. “No Petal, sorry! It long and hard, not with little ones,” Lilly explained, defusing her sister’s enthusiasm. A few squealing ‘pleaseeeee’ that followed had no effect, either. This would all be a challenge as is, and having to look out for kids through it all would’ve made it even harder.
And that wasn’t even the only reason.
“I know you want to come along with your sister,” Solstice began, giving Petal the warmest smile she could muster after everything they’ve been through today, “but think of Newmoon in all this. I can only imagine how rattled they’ll be just by aid showing up after everything so far, and every person present will only make it all the more overwhelming for them.”
That wasn’t an angle Sue had considered either, dampening her own hopes of tagging along. Crutch or not, she wasn’t a fast walker and barely had enough physical strength to keep carrying Joy in her arms. Any serious help with what sounded like hundreds upon hundreds of pounds’ worth of supplies was out of the question.
Solstice had spotted the disappointment in her student’s mind, but before she could talk to her about it, Petal finally had a reply to the adults’ explanation—a slow, somber nod. “I see... sorry.”
“No sorry, Petal! Will tell everything in night town! Now need go, bye Solstice, bye Sue!” Lilly replied, giving the Mayor a brief wave before turning towards Sue, about to sneak in a smooch on her cheek—
Only for the Forest Guardian in question to end up having the same idea. They were locked in a brief but intense kiss before Lilly regretfully dashed back, spinning in place in elation as her cheeks burned bright red. “Eeeeeeee, I-I—bye!” She was gone within moments, booking it behind the nearest corner in blissful fluster; Sue only prevented from following in tow because of the two exhausted children in her arms.
Comet’s giggle at the silly emotions in the air helped everyone’s psyches, too.
No matter how winding their path here had been, they had arrived at Sundance’s dwelling. The stairs leading up to it were just as treacherous as they felt the first time, not inspiring much confidence in Sue after she’d calmed down. Solstice was eager to help, wordlessly embracing Joy and Twinkle in her gentle aura after untying the latter from Sue’s chest—only for the former to squirm and whine even as she was about to fall asleep.
They might have gone along with it—or, more likely, not known how to stop it—but Twinkle wasn’t a fan of being separated from their guardian, either. They futilely tried to reach towards Sue with their black tentacles, their squeaks quiet and distorted. Aided by Solstice’s translation, Sue spoke up, trying to calm them both down. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. I just need to get up these stairs, and I’ll be back with you two again.”
Solstice moved Twinkle within the reach of their guardian as they were being comforted, helping motivate them to endure that brief stretch without Sue. Unfortunately, her words weren’t as effective with Joy, the metal girl clinging to Sue’s shoulder even as she fought on against her tiredness. It was an impasse the younger Forest Guardian didn’t mind waiting to resolve itself in theory, but her arms were starting to complain big time.
A sudden buzzing from down the road was the last thing Sue wanted to hear as she wracked her mind about how to calm Joy down, but the identities of the newcomers provided some much-appreciated balm for her strained mind.
Basil was as energetic and upbeat as ever, hovering right before Sue, what was probably buzzed greetings remaining untranslated. Splitleaf wasn’t far behind, looking relieved to have found their group, even if the reason wasn’t immediately clear. The scene was a bit overwhelming, and Sue could tell Solstice was about to extend her translation to include the two lovable insects—which is why she cut in, shaking her head. “H-hey, wait Solstice, I—I’ll handle this. They want to talk to me, right?”
The Mayor blinked, taken aback before slowly nodding. “^Are you sure, Sue?^”
Not really, but I don’t want to miss out on the opportunity to practice.
“Y-yeah. Y-you can take Twinkle upstairs, a-and I’ll talk to them.”
Solstice was unconvinced but didn’t try to argue, carefully holding the small ghost as she made it up the stairs and into Sundance’s den. If the many woofs filling the air were anything to go by, both foxes were home. The younger Forest Guardian slowly sat down on one of the lower stairs, sitting Joy beside her to free her arms as she prepared for a reprisal of her magic trick.
After double-checking that the metal girl wasn’t about to yank on one of her arms and cause a reprisal of her embarrassment from a few days ago, Sue went for it. Her left hand tuned out the surrounding emotions while her right hand repeated its crutch grasp, extending one mental tendril out of her skull at a time and carefully navigating them first to the bee, and then to the mantis.
Judging by the lack of agonized buzzing and anger in her immediate vicinity, it seemed she’d pulled it—
“Sue Sue you okay? Not sleep Sue, mom want fix your horn wound,” Basil buzzed, the hum of his wings moving all over the scene before zipping right to her free side.
The Forest Guardian took a deep sigh of relief, opening her eyes to smile at the two bugs, catching Splitleaf rolling her eyes at her son. “She not sleeping, Basil. Doing psychics, my guess. Hello, Sue, can hear us?” the mantis asked, growing palpably relieved at the firm nod that followed. “Good, good. Willow tell me about injury. Sensitive, my bandage better. Can try change?”
Sue only needed a quick glance down at her wounded extremity to realize just how necessary a change of bandages was. The sight had turned from worrisome to unsightly—especially with the chubby medic leaving them untouched yesterday morning. She didn’t see any bandages in Splitleaf’s possession, but had assumed she was just keeping them hidden somewhere. “S-sure! Thank you for the offer, Splitleaf.”
“Problem not,” the mantis reassured.
As she unwound the bandages already there, making Sue wince while comforting the girl beside her, Basil took it upon himself to satisfy his curiosity about the big event yesterday. “Sue Sue, what yesterday happen so loud and glowing and you did! Wonder how!”
“Aye. Everyone in hive talk about it at night,” Splitleaf followed up.
Sue felt a bit self conscious about being the talk of the town as she desperately tried to gather words. To her chagrin, words kept not coming—because she had no idea what exactly had happened there either.
“Yes yes yes! Look like Night Mother talk you, strong and bright and good good!” the bee geeked out, leaving Sue feeling even more flustered than before.
His mom might’ve just weakly chuckled at the idea that yesterday’s outburst was in any way divinely inspired, but the Forest Guardian herself wasn’t sure either way. “Truthfully, I—I don’t know,” Sue admitted, catching both bugs’ attention. “It was a really long time coming either way. If it really was Her, then...” she trailed off, looking up at the barely visible moon in the corner of the daylight sky, “then I want to thank Her for setting things straight again.”
“How it feel when shouting and angry and glowing?” Basil asked, swooning at the idea of his silly friend being a vessel for divine will.
“The angriest I’ve ever been,” Sue chuckled, the admission catching the other two aback. “It’s like when you get so angry you can’t see straight anymore. I was already there, and then I got angrier and angrier, I panicked, and then... that happened, and it was just a blur.”
“Guess it only right for Mother to anger sometimes,” Splitleaf chuckled before returning to her work. Sue felt that remark well, looking down at Joy and reminiscing about how angry she felt when it looked like that bat kept wanting to make her miserable—
And then; she spotted what the caretaker was actually doing with her horn.
To the best of Sue’s tattered knowledge of biology, mantises weren’t capable of spinning silk. It was a fact that Splitleaf decided to conveniently ignore, carefully weaving the thick pearly thread around the shallow cut. It didn’t feel anywhere near as disgusting as Sue would’ve thought from the description alone. The silk wasn’t putting any additional pressure on the sensitive tissue, either. If it worked, it worked—Sue just hoped it was sterile, though.
...
Pretty please.
“Anger no anger, glad you did, Sue!” Basil buzzed, taking Sue aback with a buzzing embrace and dragging her attention away from the mantis. “Excited tomorrow, help Newmoon help Ginger too! Talk yesterday fun, want more.” Before she could respond in kind, though, he was already gone, to her disappointment.
“Ginger good sort, aye,” Splitleaf added, effortlessly moving the ever-weaving thread to the bite-sized cuts on her arms each time she had to talk. “Glad have stockpiles important items.”
“Yes yes! Tomorrow tomorrow ahhh, excited! Never think I live important times,” Basil sighed—and finally spotted the metal girl beside Sue. “Oh, Joy sleep?”
A quick glance confirmed his observation. Joy had indeed dozed off in the meantime, to Sue’s relief. She kept her close, nodding softly as she explained, “Yeah. We ran into N—Solstice’s family, unfortunately...”
“Solstice family?” Basil tilted his head. “That not good?” he asked, unsure, inferring based on Sue’s tone.
“Ugh, them,” Splitleaf grumbled, getting up from her finished work. “Nasty. Stay away, Basil—don’t want you hurt.”
“Wh-why they hurt me?” the bee asked, excitable voice noticeably wavering. His mom sighed in return, about to gather words—
*woof, woof!*
Only for Spark to cut her off, rushing down the stairs—and leaping right into Basil’s arms, taking Sue aback. She watched as the two of them exchanged affection to whichever extent their differing anatomies let them, uncertain where it’d come from. She’d seen them be friendly in the past, sure, but this felt like more than just acquaintances.
Splitleaf wasn’t blind to her surprise, buzzes sounding like giggles as she explained, “They always play when little,” clarifying almost nothing. Sure, Spark wasn’t an infant anymore or anything, but she was still firmly a child, whereas Basil had always given off the impression of being an adult. He even had children, for crying out loud. The mantis wasn’t done with her explanation yet, though. “Don’t look it, almost same age. Basil... one Moon older Spark.”
“Two!” the bee cut in as if his honor were on the line.
“One, two, ten, still my baby,” the mantis laughed, forcing the most embarrassed buzz out of Basil Sue had heard yet.
It was all immensely amusing, though the Forest Guardian couldn’t help but feel a bit bad, still. If Basil was an adult despite being the same age as Spark, didn’t that mean his lifespan was much shorter than hers would be? She supposed it made sense; insects weren’t known for their long lives, but... she still felt bad about it.
Sure, random chance shaping people’s lifespans was just as true in her old world, but there, living into your sixties was a relatively safe bet anywhere, infant mortality aside. How much time did Basil have left if he was already an adult at around five years old? Ten? Fifteen? Nowhere near enough either way.
Though... it certainly wasn’t bringing him any despair at the moment, and focusing on the happiness in the scene would only do Sue good, too.
“Basil, gonna go?” the mantis beckoned, prompting her son to place the fiery kit down on solid ground and finally follow her. “Care Sue—please rest, let wound recover, let you recover. Okay?”
Won’t hurt to try that, yeah.
“S-sure,” Sue nodded, smiling as she watched the bug family head out. With them gone, she finally got her overdue share of affection from the fiery kit, her excited woofs remaining untranslated. After she’d gathered the strength to stand up again with Joy in her arms, Sue finally made it the rest of the way upstairs, her legs definitely appreciating a moment of rest.
Inside, Sundance was laying in the bedding part of her dwelling, rifling through the drawers and boxes in her workshop and psyching out everything that looked like it’d be useful for the crafts project at hand. Fabrics, needles, thread, dyes, oils to impregnate the material with after they were done, and more. As she gathered her supplies, Twinkle and Comet intently observed the spectacle from beside her. The former’s spectral limbs were carefully examining the small patches laid out before them to test which of them felt the most comfortable to the touch.
A few feet away, Solstice sat in the chair usually reserved for her friend, calmly enjoying her tea as her mind worked on overdrive, chewing through everything that had happened today and what it could mean. It took until Sue had closed the front door behind herself for the Mayor to finally notice her having caught up, extending the translation to her and giving her a weak smile. “^How’s the new bandage feeling?^” she asked telepathically mid-sip.
“As if it’s not there at all,” Sue remarked, the gentle numbing effect of the silk making the constant aching almost completely ignorable.
Hearing her voice finally stirred Sundance from her impromptu inventory check. The older vixen winced as she looked over her shoulder and shot her a reassuring expression, with just a hint of concern. “Good morning, Sue,” she greeted, her voice much less weak than yesterday. “I hope you’re doing alright after what happened earlier.”
Comet was happy to hear her too, squealing in her direction and considering waddling over before choosing to stay beside his little ghostly friend.
“Awww. I’m—I’m okay now, I think,” Sue sighed. “I’d rather not think or talk about it much if it’s alright.”
The older vixen firmly nodded. “Of course, it’s your call. Feel free to rest Joy beside me. Something tells me she’ll enjoy the warmth,” Sundance smirked.
Before Sue could even take another step in her direction, Solstice was already helping her out, carefully hovering the little one to rest wrapped in the vixen’s warm tail as she slid up the free chair over to her pupil, saving her those few steps. Spark, however, was confused about what her mom and friend had just talked about. She asked, “What happened, Sue? Are you—*ow*—okay?”
“Sue just answered that she’d rather not talk about it, sweetie,” Sundance chided.
Sue’s attention, however, was more so on the wince that had left the younger fox. She chuckled as she sat down, half joking and half guessing, “Hey Sparkie—is everything alright? Did you pull something while running towards Basil?”
“Noooooo,” the kit insisted, wasting no time leaping onto her friend’s lap. “I felt like that all—*ugh*—all day, I don’t know why.” Regardless of where her aching had come from, Sue was keen on comforting her as much as she could, careful pets relaxing the little fox as the stone den returned to its earlier silence.
Leaning back into her seat once more, Sue tried to take a hint from Joy and Spark and sink into the surrounding serenity. To let herself fully relax after everything she’d already been through, after having to go face-to-face with Solstice’s family—
But she couldn’t.
The events she’d witnessed were awful, and she’d rather forget about them, but... the words continued to linger in her mind. The threats towards Moonview as a whole and Comet in specific, the hatred towards them all, towards Solstice, towards her. And, of course, the mystery at the center of it all,
“Solstice,” Sue whispered, pausing as she saw the Mayor wince quietly, “why did they call you ‘Snowmoon’?”
Spark woofed at her in confusion, the vulpine sound making Sue realize she’d been taken out of her mentor’s translation—probably for the best, considering the topic. Off to the side, said mentor sipped on her tea and tried her best to keep her son from noticing the shift in the room’s emotions, eventually finding the courage to admit to her untruths. “^’Snowmoon’ is my... real name, the one that had been given to me when I received my blessings.^”
Sue nodded slowly, having vaguely pieced together that much. “I see. Would you want me to call you—”
“^No, please no,^” Solstice insisted, a flash of fear shooting through her face. “^I’d like you to continue to use ‘Solstice’, please. ‘Snowmoon’ is... a deeply hateful name, one I do not want to represent me. I-I can only hope m-me refusing to use it doesn’t bring on the P-Pale Lady’s anger...^”
“^It does not, Solstice,^” Sundance reassured, taking the other two aback as she continued to calmly sort through her supplies.
Still, Sue was confused. “What makes it hateful?” she whispered.
“^In—in my tribe, each full Moon had its own sacred name, and the traditions associated with it. Snowmoon is the name for the full Moon of freezing winter. When life is still, land is barren, and the world is little more than white ground and blue sky. On the day of the Snowmoon, our warriors would head out far and wide to scour the land and strike the night kin when they were at their weakest, bereft of strength and starving—and it is these hunts I was named after.^”
The once-human could only sit there in shock as she processed Solstice’s words; her tribe being so vile they had named her after an act of genocide. It was all the explanation she could ever need, only whispering a quiet “Thank you” afterwards, her understanding appreciated deeply by her mentor.
Thankfully for everyone, the mystic of the house knew just what to do to redirect everyone’s heads toward less oppressive subjects. “^Alright, I think this is everything,^” Sundance spoke, making sure the little bag ghost in particular understood her words.
“^Now, the question—what do you want to look like, Twinkle?^”