For once, Sue woke up early enough for everyone else to still be asleep, even despite the creeping dawn. It took her a few minutes of staring upwards in a daze to finally recall what had happened in her dream before she was suddenly pulled out of it. The gash in her recent memories where the events that transpired should’ve been didn’t reassure her any. Once she’d pieced it together, though, she just sighed and got comfortable on her bedding.
Seems Night Father was right, after all.
That answered one mystery, but so many others remained. Mysteries that not even having the identity, fingerprints, and mugshot of the responsible deity would have explained, but which still burned her psyche to think about. Why was she the one thrust into this world? Why was she being taunted with her memories being kept from her, over and over again? The questions hurt to think about, no less so even after Night Father’s recent assistance, but... Sue didn’t let them get to her. Not this time.
Yes, she wanted to know the answers and hoped she’d get them one day, but they didn’t matter anywhere near as much as what she had right beside her. She carefully reached to stroke Joy’s maw with one hand as the other brushed its fingers against the canvas of Twinkle’s bag. No matter the reason for her god-given task, no matter their excuse for putting her here, in this dangerous world where she’d brushed against death more in days than she had in years back on Earth, she was here now; she had people, big and small, caring for her. And she cared for them in return.
As far as she was concerned, this was her actual mission here, her grand goal in this world. To help these two lil’ oddballs feel loved and cared for, to make positive change around her wherever she could, maybe to even help Moonview and Newmoon mend some of their scars—not because an asshole god told her so, but because she wanted to help, however she could.
All that and more could come later this morning, though.
Hopefully Solstice won’t mind if I snooze a bit...
----------------------------------------
A few hours later, the first part of Sue that awoke from her nap was her nose. The thick, peppery smell of yesterday’s breakfast filled the air once more, now somehow even more intense. Her ears chimed in shortly after, noticing the distant murmur of a well-awake town, the quiet crackling of flames, and diligent scraping of a wooden spoon as it stirred the pot’s contents. All those would’ve been lovely on their own, but occasional interjections from a shrill, harsh, girly voice, responded to by a smoother, older, more sing-song voice only made the scene incomparably more pleasant.
Triply so once the latter voice had noticed Sue having woken up, and extended the tent’s telepathic translation to her.
“Wh-wh-what... umm, red a-and yellow?” Joy asked, uncertain.
“Red and yellow?” Solstice responded, unsure. There was faint shuffling in response, quickly interrupted by the Mayor cautioning “Careful Joy, the pot is very hot. Here, let me levitate some of the chopped veggies—”
“Th-this one!”
“Ah! That’s a carrot, sweetie. They’re really sweet, and orange,” the older Forest Guardian explained.
Joy tried her best to pronounce the sounds she’d heard. “Orh-rgh-oooorhhha—”
“Oooooorange,” Solstice repeated, an audible smile in her voice.
“Orgh—orhange?”
“You got it, Joy! Their color is orange, between red and yellow. Any other veggies you wanna know more about?”
*yaaaaaaaaaawnnnn—*
Sue didn’t realize the sound came from her until she felt the focus of the rest of the room home in on her, the little toothy girl included. A smile crept on her face as she heard Joy get up from her seat and walk closer. Before long, her little hands were clumsily patting against her chin to catch her attention. At first slowly, then increasingly faster as Sue’s smile grew without her responding.
“Joy, I think Sue still wants to rest some—”
“No no, I’m okay, I’m okay,” Sue giggled, finally prying her eyes open and squinting at the metal child beside her. “Good morning Joy, good morning Solstice.” Joy responded with a shrill, excited squeak before kneeling and pulling all she could reach of the sleeping Forest Guardian into her arms. Sue couldn’t resist laughing in response as she held the girl close and sat up. A quick check determined Twinkle to still be asleep, snuggled up to her torso. “Someone’s really excited to see me,” she smiled.
“Goo-ood mh-mhorning!” Joy responded, excited about having pronounced the words right—and about her guardian being awake, of course.
Once Sue had finished rubbing the sand out of her eyes, she slid to the edge of her bed and sat the girl comfortably on her lap. As if on autopilot, one hand let itself be gripped by the tip of her maw as the other carefully pet Joy’s front head, the little one’s relaxation downright palpable for her psychic senses. Twinkle themselves was creeping closer to awareness after Sue had sat up, but wasn’t there yet—giving her a perfect opportunity to check in on Solstice.
Their eyes met each other as they put on their most confident smiles, neither as unerringly upbeat as they would’ve wanted. And that was okay. They had a lot to talk about later today, and Sue was glad to not sense much hesitation in the older Forest Guardian at the thought of having that important conversation. Either way, that was for then, and now they were here; they were feeling okay, and more than anything else, they were glad to see each other.
“How was your rest, Sue?” her mentor asked, redirecting her gaze down at the pot before her.
I could go on and on about that, but something tells me the last thing Solstice wants to hear right now is the melodrama of gods squabbling with one another for unknown reasons.
Sue stretched in her seat, and Joy followed in tow, mimicking her motions. “Had quite a dream and woke up early, but overall I’m quite good. Whattcha making?”
“Thickening yesterday’s leftovers, adding some spices to soften the flavor, and we’ll be having them with some bread,” Solstice explained, nudging Sue’s attention to a small loaf of what looked like cornbread. “Gotta make the most out of it, ha.”
As spicy as her last breakfast was, Sue most definitely didn’t mind having some more of it. She absentmindedly nodded at her mentor’s explanation, before looking down at Twinkle’s gradually creeping tentacles wrapping around her and smiling widely. “Hello there, Twinkle. I hope you slept well.” Taking care not to disturb them too much, she unwrapped the knot that kept them attached to her torso—and her skin most definitely appreciated it.
The little ghost wasn’t as talkative as Joy, but they didn’t lack in ways of expressing their affection and gratitude for their guardian’s wishes—if at the cost of some of the affection going the metal girl’s way. They reached up to the hand that was currently dispensing affection toward Joy’s front head, and pulled on it with all their might, managing to nudge it just enough to lower it down between themselves and the other little one. At last, their reward, Sue’s hand, theirs to wrap themselves around. And Joy’s to pet in return, letting her have her revenge.
A revenge that Sue couldn’t get enough of—and probably never would.
“Goodness, I’m so happy to have you two,” Sue sighed dreamily. The little ones were happy, too, expressing that by holding her hand even tighter. Sweet as the sight was, though, the younger Forest Guardian knew full well today would have a lot more in store than just observing the tykes’ antics, even excluding the difficult discussion she was hoping to have. “So, how’s the aid to Newmoon looking?” she asked. “Lilly mentioned it yesterday, and I was curious.”
To her relief, Solstice didn’t seem taken aback at all, maintaining her calm as she switched to telepathy and explained. “^The current plans are to wrap our preparations in the morning, and head out around noon. If I were to hazard a guess, all the supplies are already individually prepared. It’s just a matter of figuring out the transport for them all, and prioritizing what we take.^”
Only good news, just the balm Sue’s mind needed. “That’s great news! Is transport gonna be the bottleneck?”
“^Potentially, yes,^” Solstice answered, chewing through the question in her head. “^Thankfully, I reckon we have enough strong, eager hands to carry everything we’d want to there—can’t imagine having to leave anything behind for a future round of aid.^”
The Mayor stirred the pot some more once she’d answered Sue’s question, only to stop herself at realizing she’d forgotten something. “^Aside from stone and lumber. We have a few people strong enough to carry it, but it might still be a better idea to carry only a minimal amount of them this first time. Can’t imagine anyone in Newmoon having much need to build much right now—^” she stopped herself, wincing at having made yet another assumption. “^Actually, best to just ask what they’ll need in the immediate future once we arrive.^”
That sounded reasonable as far as Sue went, and her mentor catching herself brought a tiny, but well-meaning smirk to her face. Though, there remained one part of the entire aid undertaking that she was woefully uncertain about, selfish as it was—herself. She hoped it wouldn’t be an issue if she tagged along, but the multi-hour walk from Moonview to Newmoon would pose a challenge even if she were to just walk along them. And after her mentor having discouraged Lilly’s younger sister from doing just that yesterday, Sue doubted her odds would be much better.
Still, no way but to ask. Guess I’ll never stop learning that lesson the hard way, will I?
“Actually, I had a question. Would it be alright if I tagged along with you all?” Sue asked. Her true motives might have been... less than perfectly innocent, what with Lilly also helping in the effort, but she hoped Solstice wouldn’t be able to see through them so easily.
Solstice sharply inhaled through her nose in amusement. “^Yes, of course, Sue, why not? Just would have to ask someone to look after Joy and Twinkle. Sundance already agreed to look after Comet, and I don’t think she’ll say no to your little duo. Besides, if she’s gonna be making a costume for Twinkle, then having them there would help immensely with that, no doubt.^”
Sue wasn’t as wholeheartedly convinced, what with Joy’s frightened reaction yesterday, but she hoped that clearer communication with the two tykes would prevent another scare like that. Which... was something she could do right now, even. “Joy, Twinkle?” she asked, shaking her clung-to hand. The metal girl looked up at her in curiosity and the bagful of ghost extended their tentacles up towards her, as if asking to be picked up. Which she then did moments after, without even having to think about it. “So, me and Solstice will be going on a long walk, and I won’t be here for most of the day. Is it okay if Sundance looks after you two today? It’s the nice fox lady you met yesterday.”
The ‘fox lady’ quantifier explained exactly nothing on its own, while perking up Solstice’s attention. Thankfully, the older Forest Guardian knew exactly how to help, mentally nudging the little ones to bring their attention to the memories of being looked after by the fiery vixen. Twinkle was immediately happy at the idea, but Joy was less so, and both psychics noticed. Sue wasted no time thinking of something to say to help the girl overcome the unpleasant situation yesterday—but, before she knew it, she didn’t have to. Joy mimicked what she’d seen adults do and nodded firmly, capping off her response with a stuttered, “Y-y-yes.”
Sue was so, so proud.
With both the little ones once more snuggled up to her, the resulting emotional warmth was enough to nudge the final remaining member of their impromptu household from his rest. Babbling filled the tent as Comet came to, shuffling around his cot before scrambling to his feet and peeking out through the thin bars on its sides. He looked at his mom, let out a happy squeak, and fell back down into a sitting position from the sheer excitement—before standing up again, eager to get out.
And Solstice soon delivered, sitting him down on her lap as he yawned and struggled against wanting to doze back off. The scene was adorable enough to bring the dumbest and widest of smiles to Sue’s face. It almost made her forget about the unanswered question in the room, one that kept her from being fully comfortable with her mentor’s reassurance—but only, almost. “What about my limp, though? Won’t I lag behind everyone else and slow down the entire convoy?” she asked, uncertain whether the word ‘convoy’ was ideal but not knowing how else to phrase it.
The Mayor laughed quietly before giving her a very knowing look. “^Something tells me that, even in that worst-case scenario, Lilly will carry you there in her own arms.^”
Before Sue knew it, her entire face was enveloped in a burning blush at having been seen through so easily. She looked away from her mentor as she reined her embarrassment in, putting in her utmost effort to prevent it from bleeding into insecurity or discomfort. Which paid off, letting her sigh happily and answer without shame, “Y-yeah, that’s basically what would happen if I were to guess. She—she told me she was coming yesterday...”
For once, Solstice didn’t have it in her to express amusement at her pupil’s mood, however well-intentioned. Instead, she just beamed at her, glad beyond words—physical and mental alike—that she and Lilly were hitting it off so well. “^Perfect, then! Besides, I doubt there are many people Newmoon would appreciate seeing more than you, even if just to have that confirmation that you’re doing okay after what Juniper did.^”
That angle also tracked, yes. Sue was glad that the older Forest Guardian didn’t bring up the people of Newmoon being grateful to her for ‘saving’ them—even if that would happen, she didn’t want to fantasize about it. Especially with her having been but one voice of many opposing Root, even if hers was the one to break through his torrent of hateful rhetoric. She didn’t want to be a hero.
She just wanted everyone to be alright.
“^Either way, that’ll be then. And now, breakfast everyone!^” Solstice cheerfully exclaimed, before pouring everyone their portions of the now much thicker stew—finally enough to be worthy of that label. This time, Twinkle didn’t mind staying on the sides, leaning against their guardian while watching the older Forest Guardian cut slices from the loaf she’d brought with herself and hand them out.
Once more, Comet had to be helped with his portion, babbling as he watched his mom dip his slice into the thick stew before presenting it for him to nibble at. Sue tried to pretend she immediately understood how the meal was supposed to be eaten instead of copying it from the lil’ Moon Child. The stew was thicker and much less spicy this time, its bite replaced with a smoky sweetness that lent itself very well for being used as a de facto dip for the bread.
The lil’ ghost was okay with staying on the sides, but they were still curious—and Sue answered their curiosity, breaking away a small piece of dry cornbread for them to taste. To hers and Solstice’s surprise, Twinkle reacted much better to the treat than the last time, pulling it into the void inside their bag where it was presumably eaten. Or vaporized. Or spirited away. Or thrown into another dimension. It didn’t matter; they liked it all the same. They only ended up asking for a couple more pieces before stopping, anyway. Maybe their magical, ghostly stomach was small despite its weirdness?
Questions for someone else to answer, while Sue reaped its spoils—feeling a full, drowsy hauntling flatten themselves on her lap, their amorphous body entirely relaxed.
Behold, a portable pancake ghost child.
It didn’t take long for others to get through their portions. After being thickened, there was only enough stew left for maybe two full bowls. The leftovers got cleaned meticulously, with Sue and Solstice going through almost a third of the loaf as they methodically mopped up the remaining stew. It wasn’t a substitute for washing, of course, but it was best that they got to taste the most concentrated, slightly burned parts of the stew and not the dirt outside.
Once the pot was spotless and Sue felt like she was more cornbread than Forest Guardian by mass, it was time to head out. Her mentor was about to ask her to help carry Comet to their mutual vixen friend before stopping at the last moment—no, not right now. Not with her blasted family around. The thought was accompanied by a strong chill going through the older psychic, strong enough to spread to her pupil and offspring. Even that gloom was nothing for Comet’s antics, though, with the Moon Child reacting to his mom’s shaking by trying to mirror it, showing the world his best dance moves as he wiggled in place and waved his lil’ arms.
Wouldn’t be winning any competitions, but it won the hearts of everyone around, and that’s all that mattered.
----------------------------------------
To her relief, Solstice didn’t end up accompanying Sue outside for long. Now that the breakfast was over, it was very much work time for her—there were some details to be finalized and distributions of resources they ought to bring to be settled on. Of course, Sue couldn’t be asked to bring the three little ones to Sundance’s by herself, not after yesterday, which meant asking someone to walk with her and help out if needed.
And there was just the perfect pair of people nearby to help the younger Forest Guardian with that task. “^Patina!^” Solstice called out, stopping the tall, fiery psychic mid-step. The Mayor dashed up to her and her parent, with Sue trailing close behind. “^Would you mind escorting Sue and the kids over to Sundance?^”
Patina herself was somewhat taken aback, but more so at the randomness of the task as opposed to anything else. She turned towards the Forest Guardians, the contents of the thick bags she was holding filling the air with dry rustling. “^Don’t mind doin’ that, no worries. Any reason for that, though? Doubt I make the best guardian, ha!^” she answered, her voice crackling and noisy.
Solstice sighed. “^My family is unfortunately around, and I’m worried they’ll try something with Comet.^” The lil’ Moon Child was oblivious to the topic of the conversation, but noticed the downturn in his mom’s mood all the same, holding her closer.
“^Ah, so that’s who these ne’er-do-wells were,^” Patina sneered, remembering the unsettling interaction from the previous day. “^Caught them creepin’ on me yesterday, had no idea what their deal was since they looked similar to ya. Sure, I’ll help y’all out! Don’t have a free ‘and right now, and I ain’t sure about psychicing lil’ Comet here—^”
“D-don’t worry, I can carry him,” Sue offered, taking the tyke from his mom’s arms.
“^I could have assisted,^” Celestica added, to everyone’s amusement. Both at their comment, and at Comet’s reaction to hearing a different voice, his confused squeak lifting everyone’s spirits.
“^Ya sure ya wouldn’t drop him, Celly?^” Patina chuckled, her voice confusing Comet even more as she turned towards Solstice. “^But but but, getting ahead of mahself—we’ll figure it out Solly, don’t let us keep ya waitin’!^”
The Mayor appreciated the clarification greatly, giving the paired psychics a quick, but genuine bow before turning deeper into Moonview and breaking into a brisk march. The lil’ Moon Child waved and babbled towards her as she left, thankfully not minding a lack of response—he had a different mystery on his mind. He turned towards Patina and Celestica, observing them intently as the group resumed their march.
“^Your interest is highly amusing, Comet,^” the immobile psychic chimed in, bits of genuine amusement leaking through their gravely mental voice.
The fiery woman looked at the lil’ Forest Guardian in amusement. “^Guess he’s gettin’ tripped by us bein’ so close.^”
“^No different from everyone else, then.^”
“^Hell of a lot more cuter, though!^”
“^I concur.^”
Not even Joy could resist the building giggles that spread through the group watching Comet’s reaction to that exchange, his little head growing dizzy from looking up and down. It provided a much-needed reprieve from the tension filling the air, both the more personal sort referencing Solstice’s relatives, and the general unrest from everyone being busy gathering resources for Newmoon.
And now that Sue’s mind had steered towards said topic, she couldn’t help but notice the bags in Patina’s hands. “Are the bags in your hands intended for Newmoon?” she asked, perking her de facto guardians up.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
An immediate affirmation, a cheerful one at that. “^Yep! Bringing some of the charcoal stockpiles I had piling up to the gatherin’ spot, gonna be helping carry stuff too. Bit of a walk, but I sure could use my legs gettin’ stretched from time to time. Would do me good, especially nowadays. And—gonna try lending them a hand in building their own charcoal pit, comes in handy often. If there’s time, of course.^”
“^And if they’re interested,^” Celestica added.
“^Yep yep! Also worth keepin’ in mind. The last thing I wanna do is step on some more toes on Moonview’s behalf.^”
Celestica’s greenish plates lit up as their eye looked at Patina’s head. “^Airing your lungs from all the fumes that had built up in them will certainly help,^” they deadpanned.
Patina rolled her eyes. “^Ya sayin’ it like I got sulfur crystals growin’ in there.^”
“^Are you insisting you do not?^”
“^I sure hope I do! Would be more sulfur than I can get my hands on right now, could do a lot of stuff with it, keep on looking into hair dyes and such—oh.^” The fiery woman stopped, reminding herself of her mishap from a couple of days ago. “^Sorry for the bleachin’ again, Sue,^” she nervously apologized.
With everything that had happened within the past couple of days—and the obvious difficulty in even seeing how she looked without help—Sue had all but forgotten about the mishap with Patina’s attempts to straighten her hair. Even the miserable burning sensation, as overwhelming as it was at the time, was little more than a footnote in her recent memories. The discoloration sure wouldn’t help her look any more normal, but considering much of her reference for what passed as normal among Forest Guardians was Solstice’s family, she was perfectly fine not looking normal. There was also that one Forest Guardian she could recall seeing in a... vision after Juniper’s attack, but their details grew hazier by the day.
Ultimately, nobody else was having an issue with how her hair looked, so why would she?
“Don’t worry Patina, it’s all good,” Sue smiled weakly. “Guess my hair’s just designed to remain a mess forever, hah.”
“^Sure wouldn’t mind going toe to toe against Destiny Itself with the next straightener I fix up!^” Patina boasted.
Sue’s eye twitched. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, promise!”
“^Well, I’ll be darned...^” Patina mumbled in the least convincingly upset way possible.
“^Considering the explosiveness of some of your recent experiments, that is not out of consideration indeed. With regards to your earlier question, Sue. Will you be heading to Newmoon as well?^” Celestica asked.
“^Ya should! And, before I forget—^”
Celestica’s plates shifted, cutting their daughter off. “^I reckon Sue has already heard plenty of thanks for her role in putting Root in his place.^”
“^Not like one more woulda hurt her anyway, then~.^”
“^Said outcome cannot be wholly discounted.^”
I used to be a village mess like you, until I took a ‘thank you’ to the knee.
The mental image forced a chuckle or two past Sue’s lips, livening up the little psychic in her arms, as well as the lil’ ghost. She didn’t have the most flexibility with both her arms occupied by Comet, but she still tried to dispense Twinkle whatever affection she could at the moment. “Y-yeah, I’ll try to come too.”
Patina radiated satisfaction. “^Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about! Wouldn’t have thought you were already convinced to head there—guess standing up to Root really got to ya, eh?^”
Sue chuckled before blushing as she thought about the actual reasons for her decision. “...among other things, yes.” The merged psychics’ curiosity was downright palpable, leaving the younger Forest Guardian squirming slightly until finally looking up and spotting their destination. “Seems we’re almost at Sundance’s! Thanks for help Patina, Celestica, I’ll—I’ll take it from here.”
The fire woman shot her a very smug, very knowing look. “^Uh-huuuuh. Well, either way, take care Sue, see ya in a bit!^”
“^Farewell for the time being.^”
“T-take care, you two,” Sue responded nervously and turned the corner towards the steps to Sundance’s dwelling. Sure, her real motivation wasn’t exactly a secret, but she had hoped it would’ve been at least slightly harder to piece together.
...
Then again, she wasn’t sure whether Patina had actually figured out the connection between her and Lilly and was shooting her that look because of it. She could’ve very well been bluffing, or had come up with some other reason that sounded convincing but was actually incorrect. It was a more comforting explanation, if nothing else.
...
I’m worrying way too much about this, aren’t I?
With that predictable and yet somewhat disappointing realization and the accompanying sigh, Sue had finally arrived at her mentor’s doorstep. Actually climbing up was more of a challenge than she’d imagined—not because Twinkle and Comet were extraordinarily heavy, but because Joy was so small she could barely scale one step at a time, with the staircase ahead coming off as more of an extreme obstacle course. Thankfully, the help arrived soon after.
Spark woofed an excited greeting as she ran down the stairs, interspersing it with one or two whimpers. To Sue’s relief, the moment the kit spotted the struggling metal girl, she ran down and began to assist her with the grueling climb. Even with the help, conquering all the steps took a while for Joy, but it was okay. She just needed a hand, much like everyone else from time to time. Sue had no idea whether the internal reassurance that came with that framing would last for long, but it sure made her feel much warmer as she stepped into Sundance’s dwelling.
“Good morning, Sue,” the older vixen woofed, stretching her body afterwards. She still opted to lie on the floor, but it was clear now that said choice wasn’t because of that being the only pose she could maintain, but because of it just being the most comfortable. Before her, laid several sketches of Twinkle’s outfit Sue didn’t spot yesterday, including one depicting the broad shape of each individual piece of fabric they would need for it. Just needed the little ghost themselves to act as a model.
Sue smiled weakly, holding the lil' ghost closer to herself before lowering them and Comet to the floor. “Hey, Sundance. I hope you don’t mind looking after Joy and Twinkle too—”
“Not at all, worry not,” Sundance reassured with a smile.
Sue was still somewhat unconvinced, watching Spark help Joy make it through the final few steps with a bit of worry. “Even after yesterday?”
“Even after yesterday. Though clarifying that you’re leaving for a few hours would be ideal to prevent them from getting frightened again.” The words weren’t meant as a jab, and it took Sue all the mental strength she had to not take them as such. She didn’t have to feel bad just because of having made an understandable omission in the heat of the moment—she just had to try avoiding it next time.
She could do this, and if their responses back at Solstice’s tent were any sign, Joy and Twinkle could do this, too. “Yep. Let’s get that done now, then,” Sue responded with determination in her voice, offering both the little ones a hand. The latter took it right away, still easing out after the sudden change of surroundings, and the former edashed towards it as soon as she’d made it past the door frame, panting with her entire tiny body.
Sue might’ve resisted scooping them both in a hug there and then, but that didn’t extend to giving them both some pets and ruffles.
“Joy, Twinkle?” she spoke up, catching their attention and making sure Sundance’s translation aid had encompassed them all. “Like I said earlier, I’ll be heading out for now, and I’ll be back in a few hours. Sundance will be keeping you all company until then.” So far, so good—the little ones seemed to have heard her, and haven’t reacted negatively, in line with their breakfast chat. “Goodbye, see you later!”
And then, she took a couple steps towards the door.
“N-noooooooo!” Joy squealed, making Sue freeze mid-step as she ran over and hugged her leg. Her distress was hard to ignore, very real despite its sudden appearance. Twinkle wasn’t faring much better, though in their case, fear manifested as freezing in place—which they did, shaking weakly.
Thank Duck we had breakfast and headed out early.
Sue had expected that reaction, though not really so suddenly at the very end. Annoying, especially with her having already felt relieved that it all went without a hitch, but better now than in two hours when she wouldn’t be here to help calm them down. She didn’t let it get to her, facing the little girl and the equally tiny ghost with a smile as she carefully sat down on the floor beside them, letting them scramble onto her lap.
Those bony hips most definitely weren’t built to sit on hard stone, but it could wait, too. “I’m here, I’m here,” Sue reassured, stroking the backs of both Twinkle and Joy as they clung to her torso. “What’s wrong?” she then asked, less to find out and more so to help them express it in their own words.
“S-s-scared...” the metal girl mumbled. She struggled against her own airways and voice for a second, but eventually continued, “P-p-please not leave...”
Twinkle’s only response was a couple of drawn-out whimpers, the ghost too unnerved to put together even clear thoughts for Sundance to translate. It was unfortunate, but equally understandable—same with Joy’s fear. Sue had a couple ideas of how to respond to it, but settled on trying to be as descriptive as she could. “Joy, the place I’ll be going to is very far away. The walk will be very long, too long for you two. You’d get really tired, and probably really scared too. I’ll be back later today to pick you both up, and until then, Sundance and Spark will be watching over—”
“Oh, I’m going to Newmoon t-too!” Spark cut in, wincing as she laid down before Sue’s lap. “I wanna tell—*ow*—tell Pollux the good news myself!”
“Awww, that’s sweet of you, Sparkie. But—in that case, just Sundance will be watching over you,” Sue corrected herself.
The adult fox in question lifted a wooden bowl in the air, giving it a little shake. “I grabbed us snacks ahead of time, too.”
“See?” Sue beamed. “She’ll keep you safe, you’ll have snacks, and you’ll be able to help Sundance with making a costume for Twinkle? Isn’t that exciting?” She kept a close watch over the moods of the two kids, feeling the changes her words elicited in them. Most of what she’d just said had little impact, until the very end, where the premise of helping the baggy ghost with their outfit appealed to Joy in particular.
Ultimately, she’d need to be more direct. “I’m not abandoning you,” Sue whispered, holding the tykes closer. “I love you both so much. I apologize for yesterday and leaving you both so suddenly for a while, and I don’t want that to happen again. I care for you two so very much, and I always will.”
The aid of Sundance’s translation helped Sue’s words have their desired effect—getting the two kids thinking. They remained huddled to her as they chewed through the words, their tension slowly evaporating with every deep breath. Surprisingly, it was Twinkle to try “speaking up” first, with Sundance finally making enough sense of their thoughts to put them to words. “Safe...?”
Sue smiled as wide as her Forest Guardian face would allow her to. “Yep! You’re all safe here, and nobody will hurt you here.” It had some impact, but was far from a magic bullet. She was perfectly content sitting here for as long as she had to, anything to make these two tiny magical creatures she felt much closer to than she could admit to herself better.
Joy was next to put her thoughts to words. She looked up at her guardian from her lap and carefully grabbed her hand to wrap her tiny arms around. “B-b-back later?” she half-mumbled, half-squeaked out.
Her guardian answered with firm, calm nods. “Yes, I’ll be back in a few hours, before it gets dark.”
An immediate reassurance, one that soothed Sue’s heart as much as it did Joy’s. The girl wasn’t done yet, though. “N-n-n-not angry?”
Oh, sweetie...
Sue lifted Joy closer to her chest, holding her as firmly as her noodly arms would allow. “I’m not angry at you, Joy, I promise. I’m not angry at either of you. I’m not leaving you here because I dislike you, but because I don’t want you to get scared or tired. How about—maybe in a while, once things get calmer, we can go there together? Then you’ll get to see where I’ll be going to today.”
The toothy girl needed little convincing to appreciate that idea, straightening out as she was lowered onto Sue’s lap. She stood up, looked up at her guardian, and pulled her into as big of a hug as she could manage—with both her arms and her maw, turning it so that its flat side curved slightly along Sue’s back. Not something the Forest Guardian had ever seen her do before, but no less adorable because of it. Sue beamed as she planted a brief smooch on Joy’s forehead, Twinkle holding her free hand close all the while. “Are you feeling better, Joy?”
“Y-y-yeah!” the girl chirped, radiating more confidence than Sue had ever felt from her. As if to make her guardian feel even prouder, she then turned towards Twinkle and lifted them into a clumsy, earnest hug too, trying to pass on the reassurance that had bloomed inside her. It was precious, and it left Sue feeling even happier at the aftermath of—
“T-t-twinkle! We s-safe. M-mom back later!”
...
...
Sue froze mid-pet at the word, her mind suddenly going blank. Every smile, every warm, proud sensation, every shred of relief, all of them immediately overshadowed by this single, off-the-cuff word choice. Something Joy had no reason to pretend, something that Sue had spent days preventing from taking root in her psyche. It felt wonderful beyond words to imagine, but that was exactly the reason she couldn’t—because she didn’t want to lie to herself, to pretend the tykes thought of her this close when she had no reason to assume that, only for the reality to inevitably disappoint her.
Except, this time, it didn’t.
Her expression shifted and squirmed as it valiantly held back the moisture building in her eyes from spilling down her face. She wrapped her arms tight around the little ones, holding them closer than she ever had before. Her hands held their little hands and even littler ghostly tentacles, rubbing against them with her fingers. They—they really thought of her as her mom, at least Joy did, which would make them her, her—
My children.
And suddenly, Sue realized it was her who now had a very hard time letting go of the two, the thought making her break into mute, slightly teary laughter. She wasn’t alone in that, either, with even a brief glance further into the room spotting Sundance’s amused, proud expression on full display, capped off with a wink.
“^Need a moment?^” the vixen whispered covertly.
Her pupil took a deep breath and nodded in return, before slowly unclenching herself from around the tykes. They got the cue to scramble off her lap soon after—though not before she snuck one more smooch on both their foreheads, anything to make them feel half as warm and loved as she was feeling right now. Her body shook as she stood back up and stretched, the aching in her lower half overshadowed by the happiness lighting up her mind. “I-I love you both so much. B-bye bye, Joy, b-b-bye bye, Twinkle!”
She sensed the brief pangs of worry coming from—from her kids as they watched her walk through the door. Thankfully, said feelings couldn’t withstand being subjected to seeing their mom’s smile and energetic waving, the latter returned in kind soon after. Before Sue knew it, it was just her and Spark at the bottom of the staircase, leaving her feeling surprisingly empty. It only lasted for a while, but it was still a palpable shift—
*woof, woof—whimper—woof?*
Right, linking time. Getting a grip on herself again, Sue went through the motions of constructing a connection between herself and the lil’ fox, the action done faster than she could ever remember it happening. Another little bit of progress, as marginal as it was helpful. “S-sorry Sparkie, I-I didn’t hear you there.”
“No worry, Sue! Why crying, you?” Spark asked, her voice more confused than it was concerned.
Why was Sue crying this time, indeed. She giggled to herself as she got going, recreating the steps to where the path towards Newmoon began, assuming that’s where the drop-off point for all the gathered resources would be. “W-well, Spark, I’m just happy that Joy and Twinkle care about me this much,” she explained in rather reserved terms, nowhere near close enough to conveying the sheer warmth fluttering in her chest.
The lil’ fox laughed. “Yeah, they really do! Joy told me yesterday that she really loved her mom, and when I asked who that was, she drew both you and Astra!”
Nope, not winning the battle with tears this time—
*growl, growl grumble*
The second set of animal sounds shot a freezing shiver down Sue and Spark’s spines, the sheer emotional whiplash almost giving the former a headache. She wasn’t sure who exactly it was right away, but the lil’ fox’s immediate terror helped fill in the gaps.
With the almost worst-case answer.
Any and all happiness had washed from Sue’s face by the time she finished turning toward the source of the sound, finding him to be who she dreaded he was. The cream and dark purple badger stood a few good meters away from her, staring her down inquisitively. Contrary to the rage Sue had expected him to feel, however, Root didn’t seem to be angry at all, certainly nowhere near as furious as he had gotten on that fateful evening. Instead, he was... intrigued, observing her closely as he awaited a response to his words. That’s not to say there were no negative feelings coiled up inside his mind either—annoyed frustration, cold resentment, both of them present if masked under the pretense of manners.
He was standing on the side of a busy intersection, making it especially unlikely he would try to attack her with so many witnesses. She had no idea whatsoever what he wanted, but whatever it was, she would endure—she’d already overpowered him once at his worst; she could absolutely do it again. Perhaps she could even try to dig into him some.
Staring fiercely at Root, Sue extended a second link towards him, the gesturing of her arms and fingers raising his eyebrow. She neither noticed nor cared about what he thought of that, her attention instead distracted by Spark’s bright, unpleasant fear emanating from right behind her.
Don’t worry Sparkie, I’ll take care of him.
“Yes?” Sue spoke up towards Root, breathing heavily as she kept her expression neutral.
“Now hear, Moon-chosen?” the badger replied.
“Yes, I can hear you. What do you want, Root?”
Her bluntness took him aback somewhat, slipping a few drops of annoyance into his thoughts and an ever-so-slight scowl into his expression, but he tried not to let it get into his voice. “Perfect. Curious about you, I,” he began, eying out every odd thing about her. Her posture, her mannerisms, her perpetually unkempt hair, even the way she did her psychics—none of them befitting the grace her kin were meant to embody, none of them normal. “Curious about reasons, yours. Why disrespect Pale Lady desire, Moon-chosen? Why give night kin not deserved mercy, you?”
Sue narrowed her eyes. He was trying to dig into her reasoning, but why? To the best of her ability to figure out, the curiosity he was displaying was genuine, but if there was anyone in the entire Moonview who she wouldn’t associate with genuine interest in getting to know others better, it was the bipedal, fiery badger. Perhaps that was an omission on her end. Perhaps...
...
Perhaps he was inspired by her having done that same thing to Willow the day before.
Sue didn’t like either of the answers. Instead, she brushed that unknown aside and replied curtly, pushing past the racist overtones, “The ‘mercy’, as you call it, isn’t somehow undeserved.”
Root scoffed. “Magnanimous, you. Misguided, you. Charity virtuous, indeed. Experienced Moon-chosen charity, my kin. Must only give worthy, charity. Otherwise, squandered, waste.”
The framing of her actions as some kind of magnanimous, patronizing good will annoyed Sue more than the bigoted thrust of the priest’s words. She couldn’t understand how he could look at the mess that was her and interpret anything she’d done as ‘magnanimous’ with a straight face. Ultimately, it didn’t matter either way—especially with the detail he’d snuck in there catching her attention instead. “The Forest Guardians have helped your kin in the past?”
It was just the question the badger had been waiting for. His body language straightened out as his smile turned marginally more genuine, with his short arms splaying wide. “Utmost certainty. By Moon-chosen helped, lowly us, lowly me. Many Moons past, attacked were we. Pushed us from land, lesser kin. Filthy kin. Standing water kin, swamp and mud kin. Beneath most, us even.”
The racial categorization inherent to Root’s every word wasn’t any more pleasant to listen to for the umpteenth time, even with Sue doing her best effort in focusing past those unsightly descriptors and on the thrust of the priest’s words. Where he kept categorizing and separating his people from their attackers, Sue only drew parallels—but it wasn’t time for them yet. “Why did they attack you?” she asked.
“Accusations foolish of arson. Accusations forest fire. Unthinkable, lesser mud kin accuse. More pure than earth are flames, than mud. Accuse, no right had they, below us. Yielded we. Too many, them. Never stop attack they, never stop harass they. Attack they, kill they, never satisfy. Death uncountable, forced me this shape.” He looked down at himself, his body shivering. “Many family death. Mate, death. Watch him after death, Pale Lady, beg I.”
Sue was staring wide eyed as Root wove his tale. It was nothing like she expected, especially with—as far as she could sense—Root being entirely truthful in everything he’d said so far. However, he clearly wasn’t done yet, and so she remained silent.
“After many day, help Moon-chosen. Swamp kin barbarism, stop Moon-chosen. Messenger Pale Lady, save us Moon-chosen charity. Lesson for us—Pale Lady our guardian. Moon-chosen, messengers Hers. That, Moon-chosen charity. Against lesser kin, protect. You, mercy night kin want. You, take away Moon-chosen charity, act.”
The intended rhetorical slam-dunk would’ve been unlikely to make an impact on her even if it hadn’t been mangled in translation, but it wasn’t what Sue was focused on. She could only gawk at Root, trying to make sense of what he’d just said, make sense of his actions when taking what he’d been through into consideration, removed from the festering clothing of racialized language.
If she’d interpreted his words right, his people had experienced a genocide from whoever the ‘swamp’ and ‘mud’ kin were, before being saved by the Forest Guardian intervention. Root himself had lost family and even a partner, an enormity of loss few even in Newmoon could compare to. Sue had no idea how else to interpret his words; this had to have been what he was implying—
But it made no sense! How could this have been the case!? How could someone who has been through that be striving for nothing more than to inflict that same horror on others!? There has to have been something she wasn’t seeing, something she’d maybe misinterpreted; her brain refused to comprehend the picture being painted before her.
She just had to find out what it was. “What—what makes the situation you’re putting the night kin through any different from what your own people have experienced!?”
A great question. A terrible question. Root snarled at her words, offense filling his entire body at the gall of his kin being compared to night kin. For the first time since this accursed conversation had begun, Sue felt him get genuinely angry, the purplish flames sprouting from around his neck pushing her and Spark a couple steps back. “How dare insult such!? Cannot compare kin me, kin flames and guidance, and night kin. Hoped you smarter, I. Smart to know, not able compare these. Cannot compare—night kin danger. Real danger. Damned filth, Pale Lady cursed, lowest, lowest, lowest. Evil in flesh.”
A part of Sue wanted to scoff at the obvious double standard, but at that point, she’d be shooting fish in a barrel with a howitzer. Root knew this was a double standard; he actively cherished and underlined that fact; he clearly didn’t care about it in the vacuum. For a second, Sue considered asking him about how he would’ve reacted if she had been a night kin, before disregarding that idea—he would’ve probably responded very similarly.
*Would’ve been a good one to bring up against Willow yesterday though, darn.*
There was no point in arguing what kin did or didn’t deserve help, because the way Root saw it, that fact was dictated by which kin were ‘above’ or ‘below’ each other on some abstract hierarchy he kept alluding to. The only way forward was to attack that very assumption, not to argue where anyone belonged on said hierarchy, but to reject it entirely. At least, that’s how Sue saw it. She couldn’t deny not having given it much thought back on Earth, not least of all because there she was also on top of almost all such hierarchies. Being a woman in a man's world sucked at times, but it would've sucked ten times more if she'd been a poor brown immigrant as opposed to a middle-class(ish) white native.
“I guess that’s where we differ,” Sue responded. “I don’t see myself or other Forest Guardian as the ‘chosen’, or the night kin as being ‘beneath’ us.”
To little surprise, her show-stopper of a line had no effect on its listener, only eliciting further disgust—and confusion. Intense, pitiful confusion at something so simple, as if the mere idea of such natural hierarchies not existing was literal insanity. Or, perhaps even more patronizingly, childish hope. “Hoped I, smarter you. Naive, foolish you. Throw away Pale Lady gift, chosen her. Instead, seek blame for inevitable damnation, you. Moon-chosen kin mission, cut rot. Destroy filth, destroy Pale Lady enemies. With prayer, with charity, with Her light, with violence, with flame—”
Root paused mid-rant, and Sue’s heart skipped a beat. She watched him calm down in what seemed to be an eureka moment, the most unnerving one she’d ever seen. As if a switch had flipped, his righteous fury had dissipated into confidence, with his light smirk sending freezing fear down her body. He concluded shortly afterwards, “Hope I, one day accept natural reality, you,” before turning around and walking off, his bipedal gait clumsy and forced.
For a while, Sue could only stand there, unnerved and pissed, terrified that him and Solanum and others were going to do something, but without any idea why. Worries circled around in her mind, louder and louder, threatening to plunge her deep into a panic attack—
“S-Sue?” Spark woofed, almost making the Forest Guardian jump on the spot. “Are you okay?”
No, she most definitely wasn’t okay—but that wasn’t something for the lil’ fox to deal with. “I’m—I’m alright, just a bit frazzled from having to talk to him.” She didn’t even need to look down at the kit to know she wasn’t entirely buying her reassurance, but there was little she could do about it on the spot.
“Well, he’s gone now, anyway. Let’s get going Sparkie; it’s almost noon. People are waiting for us.”