Despite sensing Spark’s unrest following her unwilling chat with Root, Sue tried her hardest not to acknowledge it—or, Duck forbid, react to it. She was expending all the willpower she could scrounge up on remaining calm even as she replayed the exchange to herself, a task that grew harder and harder with each repetition. She heard, saw, and sensed the switch inside the badger at the end; he’d gotten an idea, she knew it. What kind of idea, or how dangerous it’d be for everyone involved in this ongoing mess? No clue.

No clue, no comfort, no relief. Only the knowledge he had some sort of one-up on her in mind, hidden until it was revealed at the worst possible time, undoubtedly.

As usual, really.

Unamusing as the thought was, it wasn’t wrong, either. Trying to analyze what had happened in a more rational way revealed very little concrete, which both helped and didn’t. He was a bigot, sure, but it certainly felt like he wasn’t the type to ever get his hands dirty. The same held true for Solstice’s family, if what she said was to be believed. Even if they conspired together to launch a smear campaign of sorts, a good chunk of Moonview would visit Newmoon today. They’ll get to see the creatures there as people and former neighbors as opposed to light-hating beasts, undermining Root’s efforts.

The conviction she, the builders, and some others had for helping Newmoon wasn’t universal, sure, but most villagers were closer to it than the positively murderous hatred she felt from some of the Pale Lady’s most fervent worshippers. Sue had a very hard time imagining them getting whipped into the same hateful fervor that led to the night kin’s exile the second time. And, without that, any violent plans Duck’s devotees may have had were doomed to fail.

Not something she’d ever want to verify the hard way, though—

“S-Sue?” the fiery kit beside her whimpered, catching up to her. Sue might have been managing her fears decently well, but it was clear Spark wasn’t doing too hot in that regard, and the constant aching sure wasn’t helping either.

They didn’t have a lot of time, but they were also quite close to where the path to Newmoon began. She could spare a moment to check up on her very first friend in this wild, magical world. Putting on her least flaky smile, Sue crouched beside the kit and offered her a hand. “What’s up, Spark?”

The kit took her time coming up with a response. She first opted to take up the comfort she’d been offered, nuzzling the sides of her snout against Sue’s soft, green skin. Every time her pointy fingers brushed through the lil’ fox’s yellow and white fur, another piece of fear flaked off and drifted into the ether, soothing the emotional trembling—and physical discomfort—in the girl’s body. “Scared, Root,” Spark eventually replied. Putting her emotions to words immediately brought some of their edge back, but her friend was there to help.

Brushing the short fur along the kit’s back and head brought both of them comfort, giving Sue time to think of what to say. ‘Me too’ would be honest, but wouldn’t help Spark’s fears any. ‘He won’t do anything’ would be way too confident, cocky even, for her liking—not to say the fox would likely see through that assertion in an instant.

Which left a different reassurance. “No matter what he does, we won’t let him hurt anyone—especially Pollux.” Sue’s words made the lil’ fox shudder, at least initially. Not having her fears be offhandedly brushed off as silly, dispelled out of her consideration outright, forced her to grapple with them more than usual, something she still struggled with. At the same time, being comforted that they would be alright, even if the worst-case scenario came to pass, had more effect on her than she expected, taking the edge off the horrors her little mind kept siccing on her.

Because Sue was right. Nobody would let Pollux get hurt, especially in Newmoon. And, after having unfortunately known the priest for a few years now, Spark knew he’d have about as much luck at combat as she would at calligraphy.

More importantly, she wanted her big friend’s words to be right. And, without any pesky details for her fears to latch onto, they gradually withered, ceasing their assault on her psyche. She wanted to ask more, ask things she knew full well Sue wouldn’t be able to answer, but her earlier words ringed in her mind again. People were waiting for them.

“Thank, Sue,” Spark woofed quietly before resuming her earlier march, keeping even closer to the Forest Guardian’s leg than before. Sue joined her soon after, glad her words had a positive impact, even if she herself wasn’t anywhere near as certain as she wanted to be.

None of them were, but they had to live with that.

If nothing else, the scene they’d walked into soon after provided some distraction—mainly through overstimulation. Dozens of people stood and chatted around a steadily growing assortment of carts, bags, baskets, jars, and even a rectangular stone boulder for flavor. Inside all of them, food and fabric and rope and kindling; medicine and tools; clay and thread; sweat and tears. Most carts were downright overloaded with supplies, but even with their space entirely used up, they didn’t come close to fitting all the town had gathered.

Some villagers had planned for that from the get go, tying sacks around their bodies to let them carry more—be it by themselves or with help of a dextrous neighbor. Some knew they wouldn’t have that luxury, stretching their limbs and preparing to carry their share of items, with only their strength to aid them.

Some were dragging entire carts by themselves without breaking a sweat. Though, in this specific carrier’s case, Sue had no idea whether she even could break a sweat. Ideally, it’d be something they’d discover together one day—but not right now. Right now, Lilly was patiently making her way through the crowd, carrying with herself a heaping load of fruits and vegetables, familiar and unnatural alike. The Forest Guardian had no idea whether it’d be even theoretically possible for Newmoon to eat it all before it went bad, but she was sure they’d find some use for it, even in that case.

Sue’s pondering about what a hamlet of ten or so people would do with north of a ton of fresh produce was cut off by the leafy dancer squeezing the breath out of her as she lifted her up.

“Lilly, a-air,” Sue croaked, her lungs crushed with the power of love. To Lilly’s credit, she lowered her girlfriend onto solid ground the moment she heard her strained voice. That didn’t mean she let go of the Forest Guardian, though, loosening her embrace juuuust enough to stop choking her crush before gently leaning on her. Coincidentally, exactly what Sue wanted too.

“Hello Lilly!” Spark cheered in between harsh giggles as she watched the farmhand planthandle her friend. The dancer whistled a greeting back right after, breaking into a quiet, melodic tune afterwards. Sue had no idea whether it was speech or song, but it was very pleasant to the ear either way. Much like Lilly as a whole was pleasant to her everything, ribcage aside.

As fun as fawning was, they wouldn’t get far without help from her brain’s translating magic. Having her arms be effectively pinned made all the necessary gestures significantly harder, but nowhere near impossible. The motivation of actually getting to talk to her crush probably helped a lot, too, however that fact couldn’t be independently verified.

Swerve with one hand, push with the other, try to keep her arms like this as a self-imposed challenge even after Lilly had realized what was happening and let go of her, and bingo. The same sensation both of them had felt so many times in the recent days, one that Sue had grown very used to—and which Lilly had become excited by, more and more each time. “Can hear, Sue?” she whistled out, looking up at the Forest Guardian from her embrace.

“Yes!” Sue beamed, netting herself a tighter and only slightly choking squeeze. “S-so happy you’re here, Lilly. This is gonna be a long walk, and any help with carrying stuff will be appreciated.”

The plant girl knew full well when she was being deliberately flattered—and she didn’t care, taking Sue’s words in stride and not resisting showing off just a bit more. “Yesss, help I!” She accompanied her words by lifting Sue off the ground with the effort of picking up a discarded candy wrapper, beaming at the psychic as she looked directly up at her. “Gather fruit some. Harvest little did. Everything important!”

Suppose harvesting all the produce she could immediately beforehand made sure it’d be as fresh as possible. Even if it means a bunch of it still has some dirt on it.

“Not alone, too!” she continued, piquing Sue’s interest. “Bluegrass! Bluegrass, where you?” Sue searched through her memories to see if she’d encountered said Bluegrass in the past and knew how they looked like, but couldn’t recall anything beyond having maybe heard the name before. Spark most definitely could, though, perking up at Lilly’s call and scooting both around and underneath the cart in search for the missing villager.

Lilly, for her part, moved Sue into one arm as she slowly pivoted on her heel, squinting her eyes and scanning the crowds in search of her friend. Sue tried her best to help, but without having a single clue who they were looking for, she had to resort to providing moral support, delivered through gentle pats on Lilly’s shoulder. The dancer didn’t overtly react to them, but if her tightening embrace was any sign, she very much noticed the gesture.

Among other things.

Sue paid the pile of fruit at the back of the cart with no mind, her gaze only snapping there briefly after seeing some fruits tumble down the heap. That couldn’t be said for her crush, though. She knew these yellow fruits; she knew how they behaved in a pile, how easily they rolled—and how they didn’t behave. With only a split-second of hesitation, Lilly leaped along the side of the cart and reached straight into the pile of fresh produce. In less than a second, Sue heard a startled squeak from between the fruits, then Lilly’s triumphant whistle, before the stowaway was pulled into the air, leaving the suspected Bluegrass dangling from their tail for the world to see.

Oh hey, that’s them!

She didn’t know much about the leafy green and cream snake, but what she’d seen of them only endeared them to her. And, now that she could associate their embarrassed expression with an actual name, she could even greet them and pass on her gratitude for helping Joy the other day! Or, she could have, if not for Lilly cutting in moments after. “There you! Bluegrass, why sneak you?” she asked, equal parts amused and confused.

Bluegrass dangled upside down as they hissed out a response, red eyes snapping between everyone in sight as they spoke, Sue included. The sight of the Forest Guardian gave them a brief pause as they scanned the nearby ground in search of one particular toothy toddler, but in her absence, greeting just her parent was more than good enough for them. “Scare? Why scare you?” Lilly replied. She then relayed, “Oh—‘Greeting’, say he, Sue!”

“Hello!” Sue smiled, tilting her head to match the snake’s orientation. “Th-thanks for helping Joy the other day.”

Without skipping a beat, the dancer forwarded the words, netting them both a bright, cute blush from the boy before them. The warm emotions helped him remain composed even as he began talking about the source of his fears. The earlier mention about him being scared left Sue uncertain about what he was afraid of in particular, hoping she wouldn’t have to be disappointed in someone she felt grateful for again. To her—and Lilly’s—relief, his answer disarmed their worries soon after. “Meeting people scared you? Not worry, here me! Here Sue!”

Sue did her part, nodding confidently once Lilly brought her up. She had no idea how long the resulting reassurance would last for, but either way it was effective enough to at least make the lil’ snake stop shaking (as hard). It was good enough for Lilly, making her carefully lower Bluegrass onto the dirt below—followed by Sue, to her spine’s relief and heart’s regret.

Before she could lean on Lilly again and go back to not having to acknowledge the long, messy journey ahead of them, the exchange between the dancer and the snake reminded her of something. “Lilly?” she asked, waiting until her pink, wide eyes met hers. “Nervous about going to Newmoon?” Sue thought back to their little drunken chat before she’d left for the night kin village the first time, and Lilly’s clear worry on that subject.

Her crush remembered it, too, and wanted to be as honest as she could. She took a deep breath, and answered, “Nervous I? Yes. But, much much better with you! If trust Sue, trust I.”

That was just about the best response Sue could reasonably expect, smiling widely in return. She wasn’t used to being a source of reassurance and motivation for... well, anybody, but especially not about anything this serious. It felt nice. It felt so, so nice. “Thank you, Lilly. That—that really means a lot to me.”

Seeing Lilly’s pale cheeks be engulfed in a light green blush was just about the prettiest sight Sue could imagine. It didn’t last long, but it meant a lot to them both. It wasn’t like they weren’t keen on making it last even longer, though—but, unfortunately, duty came first, and the surrounding carts were finally starting to move. Not a lot of time left.

Which raised... another issue. “Um, Lilly? I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk like—” Sue began. The last word of her sentence was shoved to the back of her throat as she was abruptly picked up into Lilly’s leafy arms again; the world around her turned into a blur as she was carried around. Where or why exactly, she had no idea. Lilly clearly did, though, staying quiet as she leaped and sprinted through the crowd, keeping her eyes peeled for something—

“Here it!”

The half-shouted, half-whistled exclamation didn’t even have the time to get settled in Sue’s brain before Lilly broke into her longest dash yet, coming to a stop next to one of the other carts. She exchanged a few words with someone nearby, out of Sue’s view, before lifting the Forest Guardian and sitting her down in front of the cart, in what appeared to be a designated seat.

Once the dust had settled and Sue’s eyes were no longer spinning, she took a glance behind herself to check the cart’s contents. Seeds were definitely one of the more practical things to give to Newmoon, though Sue was confused at seeing a mix of several kinds, including a ton of smaller, dark ones. Ultimately, not her place to argue or wonder—especially with Lilly enthusiastically picking up the cart’s handles soon after, winking at the Forest Guardian over her shoulder. “How this, Sue?”

The seat was about as comfortable as unpolished wood could be, but that mattered little with the convenience, the company, and most importantly, the sights. “I-it’s great!” Sue hurriedly answered, cursing her blush at that last thought. Whether Lilly had realized where her crush’s fluster came from or not, she couldn’t resist giggling at the sight, making Sue want to melt in embarrassment.

“Hope comfortable, too!” Lilly added.

Sue’s wobbly smile grew that bit more focused. “I-it definitely is with you here.” She didn’t expect her incredibly corny line to have gotten anywhere near that kind of fluster from Lilly—but it did so anyway; the dancer was too taken aback to respond right away. The surrounding bustle and Spark finally catching up to them before leaping onto Sue’s lap didn’t let either of the two linger on their feelings for long, though. Some other time, some other place.

And in the here and now, everyone was either getting ready, or arriving at the scene. “^Seems you three are all ready!^” Solstice laughed quietly, passing the two lovey-dovey dorks a knowing look and Spark a gentle smile as she approached. “^Is it already time? I hope I wasn’t late in all the hold-up.^”

The question had Sue look up at the sky to check whether it was exactly noon, while Lilly did a mental roll call of everyone around, both of them pretending not to be embarrassed. While the Forest Guardian was nowhere near outdoorsy enough to be sure off the top of her head, her strong-legged girlfriend was almost certain everyone who either had something to bring or was strong enough to help carry cargo was already there. Neither of them ended up responding to Solstice’s question, though.

The front of the convoy heading out into the forest path was answer enough.

The road was bumpy, but Sue didn’t mind. Or at the very least, she valued the comfort of helping with a good deed while surrounded by friends ~~and more~~ more than the discomfort of her backside being rattled every other second. She passed Solstice a light smile, checking on how the Mayor was doing when faced with venturing out into Newmoon once more. The older Forest Guardian was feeling confident, though it was the sort of confidence that needed to be constantly maintained with thoughts of everything being alright; a voluntary and willful confidence in active defiance of ever creeping anxiety. Sue was equal parts proud and jealous.

Before long, her attention had veered elsewhere, and then, from said elsewhere, towards the rest of the surrounding convoy. She knew better than to underestimate Lilly’s strength, but the dancer was keen to impress her with it over and over again, maintaining a consistently high pace despite the load—much more than what could be said for most of the others. They moved fast enough to end up overtaking a good chunk of the convoy, giving Sue a good look at what others she recognized were carrying with them, and how well they were managing their load.

The results varied.

Orchid’s biology didn’t lend itself to carrying much on herself, but with the vines sprouting from the mess of flowers around her neck, she didn’t have to. Each individual vine only carried a small, nondescript bag, contrasting with the intricate, fancy satchel wrapped around her body. What they contained, Sue had no way of knowing, but ‘medicine’ was a good guess. Others’ payloads were easier to make out, helped immensely by them being visible out in the open. Dewdrop couldn’t carry much in either his actual legs or the... back legs, but it was a limitation he cared little about. A stack of rolled up fabric sat on his back, between the not-legs, secured to both them and his body with several glistening threads of silk. It sure as hell wasn’t comfortable, and the red-black spider made no attempt to hide his struggles, but he persisted all the same.

Further along, they ran into the cart Lilly had originally brought with herself, as well as the person who now carried it. Sue recognized the blue overgrown probably-amphibian at a glance, but wasn’t certain of her name. High... something? No, wait, High Tide, that was it. Either way, High Tide was slightly struggling with her load, but her thoughts weren’t focused on that. Instead, a constant undercurrent of unrest surged through her mind, spinning in circles and growing that bit louder each time as she looked around the convoy. It was the kind of unrest Solstice was dealing with, but without the active effort being put in to keep it under control. Hopefully, she’d get better once they finally arrived at Newmoon.

By the time Lilly had overtaken High Tide enough for the blue amphibian and her cart to be firmly out of range of Sue’s neck—unless she figured out how to swivel it directly backwards—another group came into view, one that Sue was more glad to see. Or, more precisely, she was glad to see one third of the group, was ambivalent to positive about the second third, and just hoped that the final third wouldn’t get any dumb ideas again. For her and everyone else’s sake, said final third was too busy being unnaturally skittish to even think about pranking anyone again. Something that the other two had both noticed and weren’t shy about ribbing her about.

Poppy’s twinkling voice was as pleasant as it was incomprehensible, stirring Hazel out of her anxious murmurs. The prankster ghost didn’t respond beyond a few grumbles, grunting repeatedly as she tried to levitate while pulling the cart behind herself. She only lasted a couple feet each time, ending up with more of an awkward hop as opposed to a proper ghostly glide. It was a fact that the other ghost with prankster tendencies noticed and pointed out; their prehensile, orange hair easily pulled their handle while their gourd-like body hovered in the air.

The pink cook marched ahead of the other two, carrying her fair share in a much more... unorthodox way. Or, rather, unorthodox by this world’s standards. Sue had precisely zero idea where Poppy found the comically tall backpack strapped to her ears and shoulders alike, or how she was carrying it despite it being taller than herself—but by Duck, she was doing just that in a more gracefully than Sue thought possible. It was a sight—and smell—to behold. The aroma of baked goods and savory treats gradually filtering through the rest of the convoy, only making everyone behind them hungrier. The handful of items at the very top threatening to fall out each time Poppy did so much as glance around were just as attention grabbing, if for other reasons.

Hazel grumbled something back to Soot and Poppy in response to the latter’s earlier comment, netting herself an amused giggle from the former. The pumpkin-ish ghost was hardly done either, their amusement shining bright as they teased Hazel again and again, making the other spook roll her eyes wider and wider each time. The cook mostly just sighed at the two, but occasionally offered a few reassuring words towards her wife, as well as greetings at anyone nearby. Including, eventually, Sue and others.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

All Sue could do was wave at the trio and nod absentmindedly at their exchange, neither minding nor caring much about it. Just some teasing, fleeting and ultimately unimportant.

But also, crucially, funny. And Lilly loathed the idea of Sue skipping out on her source of giggles for the past few minutes. “Sue,” she whispered unsuccessfully, nudging her head towards the mostly ghostly band beside them. “Want know what talk they?”

Missing out on some gossip? Well, I’d never.

“Sure.”

“Yessssssss,” Lilly chuckled. “Scared dark, Hazel! Soot laugh, joke about Hazel not want competition in shadow.”

To nobody’s surprise, Lilly’s whisper was much louder than intended, and the group walking just a few feet away from them overheard it easily. Hazel croaked something out in defiance, stammering slightly as she gathered words. Soot’s snarky response was immediate, only aggravating the other ghost’s annoyance with its mocking tone. Which, in turn, was then defused by Poppy moments later. She wasn’t angry or even stern, her words delivered in an uncharacteristically flat sigh. Whatever she said, it seemed to have been effective, snapping the other two out of their respective annoyance and amusement.

For a second, Sue thought it was serious enough that her friend wouldn’t end up translating it. Which she indeed didn’t, at least not right away. Lilly waited until she gained enough ground on the other group to overtake them, and then a few minutes afterwards for good measure. Even if Solstice had been keeping up with them until that point, she’d opted to conserve her strength at Lilly’s dash, not present anymore after Sue glanced over to check again. By the time the scent of Poppy’s cooking had completely dissipated and Sue had a hard time even seeing the other group in the distance behind them, Lilly finally brought up the topic again. “Want know what say they?” she eventually asked, tone much more sober than earlier.

Sue doubted it would be a knee-slapper, but considering Lilly was even bringing translating it up, it couldn’t have been that bad or personal. “Mhm.”

“Say Hazel about not fear dark, fear what in dark. Joke Soot about scary scary bird and bug in dark. Say then Poppy, ‘know scared them you, Hazel, but they friends mine, promise I’.”

That made sense for why it chilled the air so much, and Sue couldn’t help but feel for Poppy somewhat. Not just the emotional rollercoaster over the past few days, made even worse by her knowing and being friends with at least Ginger, but also having to deal with Hazel’s antics during all this. Though, that perception could’ve been just a tad biased because of the Forest Guardian’s own experiences with the ghost. Maybe. Just maybe. Sue sighed. “I really hope Hazel takes it to heart.”

“And not tease more Soot. Not help when serious,” Lilly added. As far as Sue was concerned, that remark also applied more to the other ghost, but her history with the gourd-shaped jokester was admittedly limited. Who knew, maybe Soot was just as unbearable in large doses as Hazel used to be? Not something Sue wanted to find out either way.

With the exchange wrapped up, the silence from earlier resumed, slightly more morose than before. With them surging ahead of most of the rest of the convoy, barring its very front, there soon weren’t any other villagers for Sue to gawk at, forcing her to distract herself with the beauty of the surrounding nature. And petting Spark on her lap too, though mostly the former. The woods looked mostly nondescript, though she could’ve sworn she recognized some trees around her from her doomed solo journey to Newmoon. They were just as lively as she remembered them being, though, with an assortment of birds watching their cart pass by from the canopy above.

It was a sight she would’ve once not given a second thought about, but now, she wondered. They were people just like everyone else around her, that much she couldn’t doubt anymore. What did they think about the artificial village in their midst, about Moonview and its people? Maybe ‘artificial’ wasn’t the right term there. The walls and homes of Moonview are no more artificial than a bird's nest back on Earth. What Moonview was, though, was very cosmopolitan and stationary, rooted to the ground with all its different peoples all at once instead of having the freedom to relocate with the changing seasons or conditions. Both of those would’ve been a concern for those that had spent their lives in a—and Sue loathed this choice of words while simultaneously not knowing what else to use—‘feral’ way.

She was curious, but said curiosity was something that would have to be left for another day. This was neither the time to think about that, nor to think about anything else—not with the ground growing even rougher and Sue’s seat even rockier. As much as she might have wished to focus entirely on keeping her rear from falling off the cart, the world around her demanded attention. More specifically, the small leafy snake still slithering alongside them demanded attention, grasping it in his coils through the brute force of calmly speaking up and waiting for a response.

With Lilly not responding right away, Sue wondered whether Bluegrass’s words were even addressed to any of them, or if the lil’ snake was just mumbling to himself to pass the time. As it turned out, it was the former—and once Lilly remembered her passenger would need help with understanding the question that had just asked, she finally passed it on. “Sorry for wait! Ask Bluegrass, where Joy. Curious, uh, too, I.”

Whether the leafy dancer’s last addition was because she was genuinely curious or to cover up her having not consciously noticed the absence of the kids until now, Sue could only guess and giggle about. She turned to face Bluegrass with a slightly blurry smile, holding Spark close to her lap as she answered. “Oh, Joy is staying with Sundance, together with Twinkle. I may take them here eventually, but figured this trip would be much too long and overwhelming for them, and they’ve already had plenty of scares lately.”

Without skipping a beat, Lilly got to translating. Bluegrass slithered further along to catch up with her as he listened, though neither he nor she could immediately make sense of something in Sue’s explanation. “Sue?” Lilly spoke up, uncertain. “Who ‘Twinkle’?”

...

Goodness, have I really not told her their name yet? I guess things have been hectic ever since Twinkle first found me...

The realization of just how much of a blur the past few days have been made her chuckle. “Lilly, remember that little ghost I found a few days ago that I carried in a little bag?”

“Bag ghost—OH! Remember, I! Very very small, cute! Twinkle they?”

Sue nodded firmly at Lilly’s question, and the dancer wasted no breath explaining everything she knew about the ghost in question to her serpentine friend. Said everything only amounted for three sentences or so, but by Duck were these three intriguing, baffling sentences full of mystery. Said mystery only grew as she talked about them, eventually manifesting in more questions being passed back to Sue. “Better feel they? With you stay?”

The second question made Sue want to nod her head so intensely it was at risk of flying off her neck, but propriety demanded answering them in order. “Yes, they feel much, much better. They’re quite shy, but really like drawing! And... yes, they’ll be staying with me for the foreseeable future. They—they have grown quite fond of me.” Just thinking back to what she’s heard from Joy earlier today threatened to send more tears down Sue’s face, but she held through, if barely.

“They and Joy thi—*ow*—think Sue is their mom,” Spark helpfully added as she stretched, freezing Sue’s mind and body in place. It was true, but not something she wanted to be publicly known, not with it being so recent and undecided. They could very well change their minds on a whim, could be Joy had simply meant it affectionately and not in a real—

*squeeeze!*

Spark might not have realized the impact her words had on the Forest Guardian, but Lilly definitely did, especially with how stiff she had gotten. She wasn’t sure of the exact cause, but could tell Sue was very tense about something. Couldn’t figure out what, though, especially with the sheer adorableness of what Spark had just told them about. Lilly asked, snapping her girlfriend out of her shock, “Good you, Sue?”

I don’t know. Some of this still doesn’t feel real.

“I-I think so, yeah,” Sue mumbled noncommittally. “Just—just worried about what Spark said.”

The fiery kit gulped. “O-oh. S-sorry—*ouch...*”

“No no, you’ve done nothing wrong Spark, promise,” Sue pleaded, some of her emotions leaking through. “Guess it’s just... still worried about them thinking I’m their mom.”

“Why worry? They care lot you! Know Joy trust you, Twinkle trust too, sure I! Why you be mom worried about?”

Lilly’s question was easy to interpret and almost impossible to answer. Not without busting out and digging into every single dirty patch of mental threads and memories that made up her tattered psyche, at least. And that was without even getting into the... practical and time-sensitive reasons why the kids thinking of her as their mom was as worrisome as it was blissful. Which, as her mind was keen to remind her, was also true with her relationship with Lilly.

A part of her wanted to just shrug it off with something non-committal but also misleading, to downplay the blatantly visible impact all this had on her. She knew better nowadays than to try that. Instead, she admitted to the small slice of truth, deeply hoping Lilly would care for it appropriately. “It’s a lot, but... among other things, I don’t wanna disappoint them.”

“Don’t know if ever disappoint anyone you,” Lilly replied in as earnest a tone as she could manage.

“I know I’ve disappointed myself plenty...” Sue mumbled, hoping she’d be able to keep that particular thought contained underneath her skullcap. Tried as she might to wrangle it, her psyche always found ways to slither out of the neat little cage she wished to contain it in. All her effort amounted to nothing, only at most delaying the inevitable impact on her surface thoughts, actions and even body language—as presented here, with the Forest Guardian almost curling around the leafy dancer. To Sue’s relief, tears were still far off, especially after being shed so liberally earlier. The one saving grace of the current situation.

“Not always can be who want,” Lilly mused, holding Sue close with one arm as the other stroked Spark’s fur. “Sometime all can do is try, and again. And that good. I know you try, Sue, and again. Not always do what want—and that good. Promise.”

Beautiful, simple response, hiding all the details their ol’ pal devil liked to hide inside of. Sue had a hard time denying that she was trying, even in her current state, but did that even matter? Could that even matter? She had no doubt her father had tried too, and look at where it got him and his daughter—

No. Stop. Not now, please.

Sue flinched as she tried to get a grip on herself again, looking up at Lilly and acknowledging her reassurance with a faint nod. There was still much more to be said about this matter, but with the carts behind them in the convoy catching up to them fast, it was best for everyone for them to get a move on again—Sue included. Then again, as she knew all too well by now, those kinds of thoughts could only ever be delayed—never forgotten. A worry for future her, either way.

A couple rounds of Sue putting on her most calm and composed facade later, Lilly was finally reassured enough to resume pulling the cart, even breaking into a light jog to make up for the lost time. The pace, even while burdened by a cartload of produce, was still much too fast for the grassy snake accompanying them, as evidenced by panicked gasps trailing off further and further behind them. Sue was just about to speak up about whether they should slow down for him, but Lilly was already two steps ahead. Without any fanfare, she eased out all the way to a relaxed walk, letting Bluegrass catch up with them before... reaching to pick him up and carefully placing him beside Sue on the wooden seat.

The exchange of surprised looks between the serpent and the Forest Guardian was immediately interrupted by the breakneck pace from earlier resuming moments after.

Sue couldn’t deny getting startled at the sudden appearance of a snake beside her, but with this one being as sweet as he was, her better nature gradually calmed her down. Not fully, especially not with their journey still being so bumpy, but enough to let her at least try to comfort him, too. Spark also contributed, both in being their shared personal heater, and by licking Bluegrass’ cheek once he had slithered onto Sue’s lap beside her. Sue hoped the snake was doing alright, and acted on that hope by asking to make sure. “Is Bluegrass alright?”

Lilly slowed down half a gear, both to catch her breath and to make the rumbling quiet enough for her voice to be audible over it. She forwarded Sue’s question to the snake, watched over her shoulder as the planty reptile blinked up at the Forest Guardian, and passed his reply to her crush. “Good feel he! Tired, nervous, but good!”

Sue recalled Lilly giving her the reason for the snake’s nerves, asking to make sure. “He’s nervous about meeting new people?”

Bluegrass answered right away, though his words clearly took Lilly aback. She almost tripped on the uneven path, blushed almost as bright as she did earlier, sighed in relief, and confirmed, “Y-yes! G-good for him!”

There were way too many stutters in these words for there to not be something up, and both Sue and Lilly knew full well. The former gave the latter a knowing look, lifting her eyebrow in amusement. She didn’t even have to resort to words for the dancer to know her omission had been seen through—though Bluegrass did, and his hissed objection to something was hard to mistake for anything else. Eventually, Lilly reluctantly added, “And... *sigh*, and say he not want disappoint me.”

Sue couldn’t help but to let out a quiet ‘aww’ at that, smiling down at Bluegrass—only to see him still staring expectantly up at the leafy dancer. She wasn’t sure what else he wanted from her, but he was clearly waiting for something more. He hissed again, as if reminding her of that last untranslated detail—until finally, she relented. “He say he not want disappoint me because amazing I *grumble grumble*”

Now that made more sense as being something Lilly would be flustered about. And, it also made Sue more appreciative of Bluegrass’s good taste—because hell yeah, he was right, Lilly was amazing. “He’s very right about that!” Sue grinned, leaning forward in her seat. Each new shade of green on Lilly’s cheeks only made Sue’s amusement grow—and her heart swell. Sue wasn’t immune to the mutual fluster either, her cheeks burning bright red at the exchange, much of her warmth towards her girlfriend ending up reflected on her. It was soothing, it was lovely—it even helped Lilly run even faster, soon finally catching up to the very front of the convoy.

Sue fully expected the builders to be individually carrying the most out of everyone, but the sheer difference in scale still took her aback. Granite led the group, with one of his upper arms helping carry a hefty stone block, and the other three each holding multiple thin logs’ worth of timber. If his steady pace was anything to go by, he wasn’t even close to breaking a sweat at the load, with his only worry being not accidentally dropping anything because of an itchy nose. The larger of the two bipedal rhinos, Bedrock, was also carrying a bunch of timber. In his case, though, most of it straddled the cart behind him, its frame only barely holding underneath the many logs.

The rest of the builder team weren’t as fitted to carry tons of cargo, but that didn’t mean they weren’t trying to help in their own ways. Chisel, the red, metallic insect, had several large sacks tied all over her body. The occasional puffs of white powder that escaped from them gave their contents away as most likely either lime or cement. Hoff, the spiky pangolin, didn’t have the stature to do even that, which left the lighter, but no less important, items. Even with enough strength to cleave trees in half and put up homes with their bare hands, tools were important as ever, and Hoff was carrying more than enough for Newmoon—both for now, and likely for years to come. Multiple hammers, picks, trowels, saws, rulers, and levels. There were even dozens of nails tied awkwardly together and to her back, as well as a couple of sticks of chalk and charcoal each, tucked between her claws or behind her ears.

Daisy was mostly preoccupied with balancing the other end of the stone block Granite was carrying, as well as paying attention to the path ahead in case they needed to detour anywhere. Or, more realistically, take down a tree or two to carve out a path wide enough for themselves. Her awareness wasn’t limited to what lay ahead of them, either. Her low growl alerted the rest of the group to someone catching up behind them, and once they all made out who it was, they erupted in cheers that pierced the surrounding silence—much to Sue’s fluster.

Oh, come on, I don’t have to be greeted like that...

Torn between wanting to be polite and not wanting to draw even more attention to herself, Sue settled on returning their greeting with a timid wave, acknowledging them without appearing open to chit-chat. To her relief, the builders reacted how she was hoping they would, focusing on walking as opposed to chatting her up. The tons of cargo shared between them may have influenced that, too—as did the growing shade around them, brought on by the thickening woods. They had to be getting closer, but how close exactly Sue had no idea.

Though... there was someone around who did. “Sparkie? How close do you think we are?”

Sue’s words made the fiery kit jump—not because she got scared, but because she had almost dozed off by that point. Spark blinked with her big eyes as she came to, huddling closer to her friends as she processed her big friend’s words. Once she did, she froze and looked up, the darkness of this particular stretch of the woods familiar to her. That familiarity didn’t extend to this specific spot, as she soon explained. “U-uhh, we—*yaaaawn*—we’re close now, I think. Not sure how close exactly, though.”

The first point made sense, but not the latter. “I would’ve thought you’d be quite familiar with this place,” Sue mused.

Spark knew better than to freak out at her visits to Newmoon being brought up so casually—things were good now and nobody would be mad at her for doing so—but them being acknowledged still left her uneasy. “I almost never used the path,” she woofed quietly, laying flat on Sue’s lap. “I was scared of anyone at all seeing me, and usually took a path through the trees while just staying close to the path.”

That made sense, and netted the lil’ fox a lot more affection in advance, whenever she wished to receive it. She definitely wasn’t saying no to Sue and Bluegrass’s continued touch, her fur being gently played with staving off the annoying aching all over her body that only seemed to grow with each passing hour. If it was up to her, she’d spend the rest of the day like this with Pollux and others coming to her instead. But, alas, no such mercy—

*caw, CAW!*

The piercing sound coming from further ahead made everyone jump, especially as it was followed up on by the panicked flapping of wings, carrying its source away. Sue recognized the cawing, recalling the night kin bird from her first visit in Newmoon—and she wasn’t the only one. The builders stopped, and Lilly followed soon after, unrest and uncertainty growing between them by the moment.

Something wasn’t adding up. Sue asked, “What did they say?”

“Rainfall said ‘they’re coming’, and—*ouch*—and everyone else is talking about what to do next...” Spark whispered, huddling closer to the Forest Guardian.

The group’s apprehension was understandable, especially with Newmoon not having a reason to think their presence here would be for any good reason. The non-zero chance they were all walking into a trap wasn’t lost on Sue. Though, she heavily doubted said chance had fewer than four zeros after the decimal point. If nothing else, if Newmoon really was waiting for them with a trap, Rainfall wouldn’t have cawed like that to announce their approach. Now, something like preparing for a battle was... much, much more plausible, though Sue hoped beyond hope it would not come to that—and not just because she and others would be caught in the crossfire.

The group might’ve been uncertain what to do now, but there was someone who was. And, with the caws echoing through the woods, she took it as her cue to catch up with the front of the convoy. Her Teleport sent a shockwave through the surrounding area, one Sue only perceived with her sixth sense. She watched as the older Forest Guardian approached the builders after having suddenly appeared nearby, letting her psychics recover while chatting with the builders using her physical voice. Ultimately, there were few specifics to be discussed—just reassurance to keep going forward.

Granite and his team didn’t have to be told twice. The gray four-arms got them moving again with a single command, and Lilly followed close afterwards, similarly on edge. Sue expected Solstice to fall behind and walk alongside her for the rest of the way to Newmoon. Instead, the Mayor stayed at the front, choosing to lead them all personally, no matter what would happen next.

The path was barely wide enough for Bedrock to fit his cart-ful of logs through it, forcing almost everyone to walk single file. Tension only grew with each passing step as hope combined with worry, both for themselves and for the hamlet ahead of them. They were coming bearing good news and even better offerings—but would it be enough? Would it be too late? Only one way to know, and they were marching full steam ahead towards it.

And just a few minutes later, they had finally cleared the last corner between them and the loosely delineated town, and slowed down. Newmoon may have been much too small to have exact borders most of the time, but at that moment, the line in the sand separating it from the world was very real—and very much guarded. Almost every adult Sue had seen in her first visit to the town stood there, their fierce stares not flinching even as they saw Moonview’s forces draw closer. The message was very clear: they weren’t going anywhere.

Thankfully for them, they wouldn’t have to.

Solstice signaled for the group to stop with a gesture, putting a few hundred feet between them and the denizens of the night kin town. Spark and Bluegrass climbed on top of the cart to get a better view as the entire clearing was shrouded in thick, suffocating silence. Not even the Mayor was certain of what to do next, mind spinning as worry threatened to take control over it again—before stopping, forcibly gripped by her own psychics. There was only one thing left to do, which she then did, taking one step ahead of the stopped convoy, and then another. She breathed heavily as she approached Newmoon, churning through what to say, how to even potentially sum up everything that had happened in the past few days.

Behind her, Sue examined everyone she could make out from the distance—Ginger, Alastor, Heather, Thorns. Juniper was nowhere to be seen—

And neither was Daystar.

Sue remembered the lanky biped’s tree climbing antics from her previous visit in the night kin settlement, eyes immediately jumping between the surrounding trees in search of her distinctive coloring. It ended up being the glint of her forehead gem that gave her away; in a spot Sue was certain she’d examined several times before. She was up on the tree closest to Solstice, posed as if ready to pounce.

Or scout.

Daystar’s call had nowhere near the carrying power as Rainfall’s caw, but its effect on its intended recipients wasn’t any smaller because of that. Sue watched as the wall guarding Newmoon shuddered and reeled, several faint gasps echoing through the silence. Sue’s heart hammered as she watched Solstice look over her shoulder and beckon them all closer as she resumed her march with a pep in her step.

She watched Ginger be the one to approach them in return, while Heather inched backwards further into Newmoon with their every step. She watched as Daystar leaped and climbed along the trees, getting close enough to examine not just what the builders had brought with themselves, but their cart too, gasping quietly once she’d spotted Sue.

She watched as one particular icy performer finally dared to peek out from behind Alastor, shock spreading over her expression as the reality of the situation sank in.

Just a few minutes later, their convoy had stopped again—and this time, because it had reached its destination. Not even Ginger’s relaxed attitude could diminish the sheer shock on his expression as he eyed them all, and especially after he’d spotted the cart behind them come into view—and then the next, and the next, much of the convoy hurrying to catch up to the front. And yet, no words had yet been exchanged, for nobody had any idea what to say in response to something like this.

Ginger gave it his best shot, with Solstice’s quick intervention extending her translation to Sue. “—ell, hello there, everyone. It’s... certainly been a while. Am I right in assuming that all—all that is for us?”

“^Indeed,^” Solstice answered, her tone equal parts affirmative and disbelieving. “^We figured a more material show of support would only be appropriate, now that we—we undid the banishment of the night kin.^”

That revelation was comparatively less surprising than the tons upon tons of resources being brought before them, but it didn’t mean it had any less of an impact. Some gasped, some stared in awe, some even smiled, in defiance of their jaded expectations of how they would’ve reacted to something like this. Some even cried, especially Snowdrop as she floated closer, her freezing tears flowing down her limbless body. The emotions were building inside everyone, and not even most builders could avoid shedding a tear. Or a hundred.

The growing crowd watched as Granite carefully lowered his cargo onto the ground, the block of stone included, before approaching his long-time friend. Their reunion wasn’t anywhere near as exaggerated as back in Moonview, limited to just a single, drawn-out handshake, but it wasn’t any less emotional because of it. Daystar could only stare at what felt like half of the town she was convinced would remain their enemy forever, still processing the sight even as she climbed down and rejoined her friends.

Snowdrop wasted no time floating over to her, crying out in a haunted, elated voice the moment she’d wrapped her arms around her. “I-it happened, it really happened!” she wailed, voice catching as if unsure whether it wanted to cry or laugh.

Daystar... smiled. “Y-yeah, it did, Snowy.”

“It really, really did...”