“Sue?”

The once-human stared into the distance, mouth agape as she processed the show. The sheer power that had been so casually displayed put her on edge—were those just… performers, or actual fighters? Was their might exceptional, or was that just how strong everyone here was?

Was there anyone here that couldn’t break her body in half without even trying—

“Sue?”

Sue blinked, another attempt finally snapping her out of her shock. She turned to look at a visibly concerned Solstice as she shook her daze off, the Mayor soon following up, “Are you alright?”

“I... yeah, I think sho. Just... didn’t expect that,” Sue mumbled, still processing it all.

Solstice nodded with a light smile, patting her shoulder, “That’s very understandable.”

“It was sooooo cool!” Spark howled, her excitement immediately diffusing Sue’s worries.

The Forest Guardian’s shaky hand reached to keep petting the kit after she’d set Joy down. Her sixth sense let her know the toothy girl’s reaction was not unlike her own, if with less existential dread and more awe. “Yeah, it was. M-makesh me wonder how nobody got hurt.”

“Practice, practice, practice,” Sundance smirked. “I’m sure they’ve rehearsed their entire routine in full over a dozen times before tonight, and if I know anything about Snowdrop, she'd made sure they had a plan for everything that could have gone wrong.”

The vixen’s explanation of the group’s precautions calmed Sue down a bit—guess it all wasn’t as insane as it had looked at first glance. Still, with the sheer amount of flashy and dangerous looking attacks happening in quick succession, she couldn’t help but wonder just how bad something going wrong would be. “I-I can imagine. Wouldn’t it end horribly if someone did shlip up regardless, though? That all looked really scary.”

Willow shook their head, “It’d be ugly, and they’d need medical care, but there’s no way anyone’s risking death to begin with, hah.”

“And as Snowdrop had explained to me, they’re pulling their punches the entire time,” Sundance continued, keeping track of Sue’s reactions. “They just know how to not let it show.”

Sue wasn’t sure which of these facts concerned her more: that most creatures here could survive a burning kick, a thunderbolt, a stone spike, or whatever the hell that laser was, or the casually admitted truth that this wasn’t even the worst any of them could do.

Drop anyone from here on medieval Earth and they’d be worshiped as a god.

“I’m sure she won’t mind going over it all with you either, Sue, if we can spot her amongst the crowd at least. Until then, let’s eat, lest our meals get cold,” Sundance nudged.

As awestruck as much of the group still was, the vixen’s comment did a good job of snapping them back to the reality of having a delicious feast right in front of them. Comet reached out towards the dumplings on a nearby table, managing to pick a couple of them up with his psychic magic before Solstice gently put them back down. “One at a time, sweetie~. Oh, Spark, do you need help with getting something within reach?”

In her daze, Sue hadn’t even noticed Spark’s feeble attempts at grabbing foodstuffs from the table. The kit stood on her hind legs and tried grabbing the nearby items with her front paws, accomplishing nothing but ineffectual swats at the bowls and plates. The Mayor’s question made her freeze and look away in embarrassment, “Yeah...”

“Doncha worry Sparkie, your evolution is coming any day now, and all these struggles will turn into distant memories. Not much space left on the bench; mind if I place your bowl on the ground?” Solstice asked, magicking a small wooden bowl into the air.

Spark pleaded, “But then I won’t be in Sue’s lap—I mean, I won’t be warming Joy up anymore!”

“I think Joy will manage a moment without your warmth, Sparkie~. Speaking of—Joy, do you want me to move your portion somewhere within reach too?”

The overly toothy creature beside Sue jumped at being directly addressed by Solstice, the sound snapping her out of passively taking the meals in. Both Forest Guardians felt a pang of fear rock her small body, the sensation making Sue hold Joy closer to her side.

Solstice had no idea why one of their more recent arrivals was so spooked by her and Sundance all of a sudden, but had an idea of what to do despite that. She moved Comet to her other arm, freeing the one closer to Joy, before slowly reaching over and offering it to the girl. “Joy, I promise you, you’re welcome here. Everyone is, no matter their form or shape. Nobody’s gonna hurt you here.”

As effective as the careful words turned out to be at calming the lil’ one down, Sue felt another emotion coming from nearby. The blip of unamused scoffing was brief and only barely noticeable, not even having time to leave a mark on Sundance’s expression before it faded away.

So many questions, and this one in particular feels like the kind you don’t ask in polite company.

Joy, unaware of Sue’s concerns, focused on Solstice’s green hand, the older Forest Guardian’s gentle smile gradually making her less and less intimidating. Eventually, the lil’ one reached back with her own hand, the black limb only big enough to grab a single finger. The Mayor sighed in relief at the sight while Sue carefully pulled Joy in closer and gave her some more head pats, making her squirm and break into a light blush.

“So~ want me to move you something over there?” Solstice asked again. This time, Joy’s response was a timid nod—there was still some reluctance in her mind, but not enough to leave her entirely unresponsive anymore. After a moment of consideration, Joy settled on what looked like sugared fruit slices, confirming her selection with a shaky nod.

Solstice’s smile grew as her eyes lit up, a few pieces of candied fruit getting picked up together with small portions of healthier meals. A spoonful of veggie salad, a crispy slice of bread, and a cup of water to accompany them, the latter left on the table as the rest was placed beside Joy in a small bowl.

Right as the girl was about to bite in with her front half, Sue caught her attention with a gentle pat, her smile wide and proud. “What do you shay when someone d-does something nice to you?”

Sue might not have been Joy’s parent, but if she could help teach the wild child some manners, she wouldn’t decline that excuse. What she didn’t expect to happen, though, was for the toothy girl to stare at her in utmost confusion, her head chewing through the unintentional puzzle.

She… literally doesn’t know, huh. A great opportunity to teach her!

“You say ‘thank you’,” Sue cheerfully explained.

Joy’s reaction cemented Sue’s hunch; the girl intently nodded as she absorbed the knowledge. She turned to look at Solstice, huddling closer to the friendly Forest Guardian beside her before opening her front mouth—and vocalizing a bunch of gibberish.

It took Sue a while to figure out what happened, the rest of the table similarly confused. She had no idea where there could be any ambiguity in her instructions—unless… unless Joy had taken them too literally and had tried to repeat the literal words ‘thank you’ in the same way Sue had said them.

“Sue doesn’t speak the same language as the rest of us, sweetie,” Solstice chimed in, confirming Sue’s hunch. “We say it like ‘thank you’.”

Sue had to focus past the psychic translation to pick out the actual sounds being uttered. They sounded odd, almost as if they were being whistled out, their pitch constantly moving up and down. Weird or not, Joy understood them this time, giving it a shot herself, “T-t-tha-thank y-y-you.”

And raising even more questions.

With her already focusing on the physical sounds everyone around her was making, Sue realized that Joy’s version wasn’t even close to how Solstice had said it. It was dry and harsh, far from the Forest Guardian’s smooth whistle, with only the cadence matching up.

“There you go~! And you’re welcome sweetie, enjoy the feast! And so do you, Sue!” Solstice beamed, snapping Sue out of her bewilderment. The mystery of the village’s language got discarded on top of her mental confusion fort as Sue refocused on the delicious treats in front of her.

With no knowledge of what any of the displayed dishes were, she opted to grab one of the sugared fruit slices and gave it a tentative bite. Her attention shifted to Joy as they both savored the treat, the third eye confirming what the first two saw clearly—Joy was loving it. And… yeah, it tasted good—great even—but it definitely didn’t come off as something a young child would appreciate, though.

What Sue thought to be sugar turned out to be anything but. The white spice tasted very zesty, almost spicy, the flavor not matching anything she’d ever had. It left behind a warmth reminiscent of mulled wine, bringing back memories of Christmas with—no, no reminiscing, not now. Anyway—the fruit underneath the spice wasn’t anything she recognized, either. It looked vaguely citrusy, but was nowhere near sour enough to match any grapefruit Sue had ever eaten.

Wonder if the plants here are also mutated, and I just hadn’t noticed.

Either way, musings on the precise nature of this world’s ecosystem were best left until bedtime. The day might have been too busy for Sue to pay much attention to her own hunger, but now that she’d gotten some food in her mouth, her stomach wouldn’t let her walk away unsated. As her hunger reminded her of its existence, it made her nab a bit of every dish within reach, starting with the dumplings that Comet had just tried to take.

Ohhhh, that was a satisfying crunch.

The stuffing wasn’t anything to sneeze at, either, a mix of boiled grains and roasted mushrooms in thick, gravy-like sauce. Even if Forest Guardian Sue was growing increasingly repulsed at even the thought of eating meat, Human Sue still remembered how wonderful a good stew could be, and this hit all the same notes.

She didn’t think of herself as being terrible at cooking or anything—she made it workday-to-day, even if her meals were on the simpler side. The gourmet display in front of her made her usual dinners feel like buttered toast in comparison, though, the sheer disparity in richness and diversity of flavors almost indescribable. She knew because she ended up having a bite of every single dish on the table.

Her feast continued even as the rest of the group slowed down, their chatter little more than background noise for the once-human. All that mattered was that she was getting filled up, and that her taste buds were in heaven—even the drinks were great! Perfectly chilled water went a long way, but the juice beside it was somehow even better. Not too dissimilar to apple and mint, but not as cloying and without the unpleasant aftertaste, and the pinch of bitterness made it much more refreshing.

Despite how it had felt at the start of the feast, Sue’s stomach didn’t have infinite capacity.

As it got filled up, her increasingly heavy head shifted from savoring every bite back to pondering on what she was eating, the food coma making it a profoundly difficult task. Right as she was about to pour herself another glass of juice, a gentle shake of her shoulder snapped her back to reality. She mumbled, “Hmm? S-sorry, I must’ve shpaced out bad...”

“Oh, you very much did, ahahaha!” Willow giggled, lighting Sue’s cheeks in embarrassment as she looked around the now much emptier table. Joy was long since done with her portion and had dozed off in the meantime, resting her head and the large black maw on her lap. Without her noticing, somehow. Off to the side, Comet was similarly sleeping in his mom’s arms, and Spark was… absent, it seemed.

“All good Sue,” the medic reassured. “You must’ve been starving!”

“Yeah, I haven’t had anything shince breakfast...”

Sundance smirked, “No wonder you cleaned up half the table, then. Sating that kind of hunger is its own trance, and I would know.” Sue chuckled, appreciating the reassurance.

“Shook you out of it since Snowdrop is around,” Solstice chimed in. “It felt like you had wanted to chat with her about the show her team put on~.” Her words woke Sue up the rest of the way as she scanned the nearby tables, finding most cleared of any food and some already entirely vacant. The mostly white performer from earlier hovered next to one of them, a closer look revealing them to look even weirder than Sue had suspected.

The two extensions that she’d previously identified as arms turned out to sprout from where ears would normally be. The oddities about their appearance didn’t end there—the crystalline horns on their forehead glistened in the orange light, almost distracting Sue enough to make her not notice the red… something on their back, reminding her of tiny wings. It all added up to an appearance that was tap dancing on the line between ethereal, intimidating, and slightly goofy, though their graceful movements swung the needle closer to the former.

They were chatting with the bipedal gray rhino Sue saw toppling trees around the construction site the other day. From what she could make out, their conversation wasn’t going particularly well, with the builder’s increasing nervousness and disappointment bringing to mind someone getting shot down.

At least they took it well, all things considered.

With one last sigh, they nodded and left the white performer, heading back to their group afterwards. Said group was mostly other builders, with the addition of who Sue realized to be the blue performer from the recent spectacle—and, if her eyes weren’t deceiving her, a relative of the gray rhino.

They were both bipedal, with massive tails and horns on their heads; their bodies were covered with stone-like scales, and their stomachs were cream-colored. Despite being much shorter than the gray one, the blue one behaved much more maternally, petting the larger rhino on their back. It didn’t take long for the rest of the group of builders to contribute—Granite pulled as much of the gray rhino into a hug as his four arms were capable of, and the brown, quilled pangolin supported them with some weak pats. The red metal insect and the dark blue beetle kept themselves to just words.

Wonder if the two rhinos really are related—

“Should I call her over for you?” Solstice asked, snapping Sue out of her focus. She gulped at the idea—the icy performer deciding to float over on their own and her using the opportunity to get a couple questions in was one thing, but calling them over just to sate her curiosity was a different matter altogether. It would put a spotlight on her, but… it’s not like there was another way to get answers for her questions, and she was supported by friends—couldn’t ask for a better opportunity to get used to being more social.

None of that’s really helping with the anxiety levels, but I guess I’ll just have to bite the bullet.

“Shure.”

Sue distracted herself by petting the sleeping Joy as she waited for Snowdrop to float over. The toothy girl was no Spark in how pleasant showering her with affection felt, but it was nice in its own right. Her front half was adorable, and when it laid inert like that, even the menacing maw looked… affable. Sue’s brief, tentative pets made her squirm closer as—

*♫~whistle~♫*

Once Sue was done calming her racing heart, she turned to glare at the origin of the sound. Solstice had somehow kept the whistle quiet enough to not draw literally everyone’s attention, melodic enough to not wake either of the little ones up, but still loud enough to accomplish its purpose, making Snowdrop perk up and turn their way.

She only waited for a moment before hovering their way, an inscrutable expression gradually shifting into a smile as she spoke up, “Good evening, ma’am~. Enjoyed the show~?”

Sue sure didn’t expect a creature this ethereal-looking to sound so... teasing.

Solstice answered, “Hello, Snowdrop! And hah, how could I not? Your performance was thrilling as always, though my poor heart sure didn’t like how risky some of that looked.”

“It’s all about looking risky indeed,” Snowdrop winked. “How can I help you~?”

“Well, it was Sue here’s first time watching a show like that, and she was really impressed and had some questions for you, if you don’t mind.”

Snowdrop’s attention shifted from one Forest Guardian to the other, her expression softening the more of Sue she took in. One of her ear-hands gave the once-human a little wave, one that she reciprocated soon after, about as awkwardly as possible. Sue couldn’t deny feeling weird at being eyed out like that, but she wasn’t sure if it was good weird or bad weird.

“Ah, I see!” the performer’s expression lit up. “Oh, goodness, forgive me for not recognizing you sooner~. You’re the one that saved little Spark, no~?” She asked, leaving Sue to nod and squirm in her seat as her unintentionally heroic feat was brought up again. “Well, I’ve got all the time in the world for you, then~. Pleasure to meet you, Sue, what would your cute face want to know~?”

...my cute face?

If Sue wasn’t busy being dumbfounded by the tone of the question, she would’ve noticed the rest of the table holding in laughter at her reaction. Instead, she pushed past it, hoping to get some of her previous curiosity answered, “Umm... how d-do you ensure that nobody getsh hurt?”

Sue saw Snowdrop’s expression briefly falter at the way she spoke, forcing the performer to rely on the mental link to get meaning out of the Forest Guardian’s gibberish. She didn’t linger on it, thankfully, answering shortly after, “Well, that’s an awfully wide question~. Broadly speaking, it all reduces to deliberately missing when we can, keeping track of each other’s cues, and putting in as little power as we can while maintaining appearances.”

“A stage like that has its advantages—everyone is looking from broadly the same angle and from below, so we can move on slightly different planes,” Snowdrop explained, lifting both ‘hands’ so that their ‘palms’ faced Sue, before sliding them past each other a few times. “Very important to keep dodging to maintain the spectacle~.”

The weird tone continued, but at least Sue was getting her answers now. She listened intently, responding, “I-I see, thank you. And what was that about putting in little power, pulling your punchesh—how’s that work?”

“Tsk, tsk, tsk~! I can’t just reveal all my secrets to anyone who asks now, not with so many people around. That latter fact could get remedied if you’d like, though~.”

Sue’s initial train of thought went to a place much, much darker than was intended, almost making Sundance spit her drink out at overhearing it. She began catching onto what the performer actually meant soon after—she wanted to explain it to her, but only somewhere with not as many people around, and was offering to take her there. Which probably meant taking her on a walk there—

...

...

Is she… hitting on me?

Her face went flush at the thought, wide eyes looking to Sundance for answers. The fiery vixen confirmed her hunch with a nod while trying not to laugh, leaving her in a wholly unfamiliar position. And then another once she’d stammered her response, one she hoped she would never have to be in, “I-I, umm, I-I’m sorry Snowdrop, I don’t—I don’t shwing that way...”

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Sue wasn’t even sure whether that was truly the case, but even if it wasn’t, being suddenly put on the spot wasn’t conductive to self-discovery like that, leaving her to just go with what she’d been assuming was true. Her heart sank as she watched the icy performer sigh in defeat, her expression deflating by the moment.

Something told Sue this wasn’t the first, or even the tenth time this has happened to her.

“That’s alright,” Snowdrop sighed, trying her hardest to pretend to be alright. “Oh well. Wish finding someone was easier.” Before she could continue, she spotted the blue rhino waving back at her from a distance. She waved back before turning to the group. “I need to be going now. Though, if you ever want some more of your curiosity answered, or... anything else, I’ll be around, Sue~. Until then, have a good night, you all.”

“Take care, Snowdrop,” Willow smiled. “May She keep your rest peaceful, especially after such an amazing show!”

Snowdrop giggled, “Aww thank you, Willow~! We wouldn’t have gone as far as we did if not for your first aid lessons, it really made us more comfortable pushing the limits. Oh, hey there, Sparkie~!”

The vulpine bark of Spark’s response snagged Sue’s attention as the fiery kit climbed back onto the bench. Her big friend’s lap being occupied prevented her from proceeding further, but Spark didn’t let it get to her, speaking up once her mom had extended her translation to her again. “Sue, Sue! My friends wanna meet you, wanna come over and say hi?”

Sue was a bit taken aback, but on a second thought, she really wasn’t opposed to that. There were some obvious issues with that idea, though, ones Sundance immediately vocalized. “Sweetie, can’t they come here? It’s much harder for Sue to walk than for them.”

“I knoooowww, but their parents won’t let them,” Spark pleaded. “They’re not too far from here, though!”

Sundance raised an eyebrow, “How will you all even communicate with Sue? Maybe I ought to come too—”

“No no no, we have a psychic that can talk to her! Please mom, pleeeeease~!”

Sundance just rolled her eyes and chuckled. Sure, sure, her little one didn’t want herself to get embarrassed in front of her friends. “It’s not me who you ought to ask for this, sweetie,” she chided. “If Sue is alright with it, then so am I.”

Even in the dim lighting, Spark’s puppy eyes were as super effective as ever. Sue just giggled, “Shure, sure. Just need to get Joy off my lap, and I can come.”

“Yay yay yay!”

While Spark wriggled in joy, Joy was picked up with Solstice’s psychic grasp and lowered onto her lap. The brief period in between the two Forest Guardians made the toothy girl stir a bit, but ultimately, her rest remained uninterrupted. With that adorable weight off her lap, Sue got up, stretching her joints after several hours of near motionlessness, full stomach and exhaustion making her somehow feel even less mobile than usual.

“Follow me!” Spark howled.

And follow Sue did, slowly picking up the pace as her arm warmed up again. The fiery kit led her between tables, firepits, and beings of all shapes and sizes, be they sitting, standing, walking, or even asleep. Her presence was barely catching anyone’s attention by now, helping her keep calm enough to let her take in all the scenes they were passing by.

The leafy caretaker she’d met a few times by now sat next to several unusual beings. Sue didn’t have too much time to take their appearance in, mentally jotting them down as a white sphere the size of her arm and a green-white serpent with a yellow collar, respectively. These two weren’t the only beings around, though, not with a small, brown pony and the pink bat-scorpion chimera she saw when she’d first woken up at the clinic sneaking up behind the white sphere.

The green snake might’ve been trying to contribute to the hissed, clicked, and growled chat around their table, but they couldn’t resist joining the two sneaks once they had spotted them. With a quick scan, they slithered off the bench and scooted up to them, helping the pink bat climb onto the white sphere.

Whatever the latter was, it had seemingly just woken up, leaving the bat laughing loudly as they clung to them. It only took moments before everyone else was either giggling along or becoming increasingly confused, the shenanigans continuing until the blue cloud bird had noticed the bat and chirped at them to get down. Probably. If that was the case, it had to have been the most pleasant sounding ‘get down!’ in the world.

Splitleaf might not have noticed her in the crowds, but Hazel did.

The two locked eyes as Sue passed by, her expression softening at the scene beside her. As opposed to any more heart attack inducing pranks, the ghostly prankster was busy stroking Poppy’s hair, the sleeping cook’s head resting on the ghost’s lap. For once, it was Hazel that got flustered, looking away from Sue even as she continued her affection in full.

Guess even Hazel can be cute.

She had little time left to linger on that topic, though—without any warning, Spark took a sudden turn away from the festivities, constantly looking over her shoulder to check whether her big friend was still following her.

“Shpark?” Sue asked, surprised. She knew the kit couldn’t understand her, but the question in her voice was still clear enough. All Spark did, though, was tilt her head to tell Sue to keep following her, the gestures paired with urgent woofs. With no actual communication, this was the best she was gonna get, leaving her with no choice but to follow the fiery kit.

Straight into the treeline.

“Spark, wh-where are you taking me...”

Thankfully for her ever-growing anxiety, the answer turned out to be ‘just a few meters ahead’, the kit then stopping and turning around to face her again. It was a few meters Sue took her sweet time getting through, her steps as slow as possible to avoid tripping on any sneaky roots or other inanimate objects. Spark waited patiently all the while, her fiery eyes piercing the darkness as her friend approached—before being hit by a sudden wall of light.

Sue almost lost her balance as her free arm jolted to shield her eyes, wincing at the impromptu flashbang. Once the stinging in her eyes subsided, she dared to look at what had caused it, taking in the scene she’d found herself in.

It provided more questions than answers.

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Chapter 8 artwork, "Our Little Secret" [https://i.imgur.com/Y3MbHDq.jpeg]

By the lovely eevyychu @ Ko-fi!

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A small clearing with a bonfire at its center stood where there once was just a pitch-black stretch of forest floor. Startling as that was on its own, it wasn’t even all. The two other creatures now present alongside her and Spark took Sue aback, if both for very different reasons.

Hello again, ‘dipshit that stole my peaches’.

The lil’ dark fox remained invisible to her sixth sense as they excitedly eyed her out, a faint blue sheen filling their eyes. They wasted no time before scrambling over to join Spark in nuzzling Sue’s legs as she took in the appearance of their… friend, presumably. They weren’t necessarily harder to describe, but for her sure harder to make any sense of anatomically, being mostly composed of a large, pastel-colored hat, reminding her of something Merlin might’ve worn.

Except this one had a tiny, pinkish, humanoid body hanging from underneath it, their pinprick eyes staring at her curiously.

There’s absolutely no way hanging like this can be comfortable.

As Sue tried to focus on kinda-braid, kinda-hand, kinda-neither extensions on the back of the creature’s… hat, she suddenly felt an uncomfortable wriggling in her head. It wasn’t too dissimilar from the sensation she felt right before Sundance first spoke to her, but much, much rougher and more than a bit painful. Thankfully, it was over before long, leaving her to rub her temples and gather her bear—

“^Okay I got it! She can hear you now Pollux!^”

The very high pitched, very squeaky, very girly voice took Sue aback—as did the cheeky, boyish one that followed, “Yes! Thank you thank you Thistle!”

The sudden voices left Sue too stunned to think through what was going on. All the surprises combined with the constant affection from the two kits made it difficult to keep standing, forcing her to sit down on a nearby log. Both foxes were there before she could even rest her behind, and the pastel creature wasn’t far behind. As the latter dashed over, though, they briefly stopped and winced in pain, one braid-hand-something reaching up to rub the side of their hat. “^S-so many people...^” Sue heard again, in the same high-pitched voice as from a moment ago.

Overwhelming as the scene was, everything clicked into place soon after, especially with the darker fox, Pollux, speaking up again shortly after. “Thank you, thank you, Sh-sh-Shue! We were goners if not for you! I-I was s-so scared, a-a-and—”

The excitement in his voice cracked at the recollection of that almost tragic day, words stopping as he pressed his increasingly teary snout into her side. Sue had enough experience with Spark to know what to do, both hands carefully petting the foxes as they huddled closer. She responded in the only way she could: “Y-yhou’re w-welcome, P-Pollux.”

As the dark fox sniffled and calmed down, the hatted creature took the space on Sue’s other side, observing the entire scene with as big of a smile as their tiny face could contain.

“A-and I-I’m sorry f-for stealing your P-Pecha...” Pollux muttered, looking away in shame.

Guess I know the name of at least one local fruit now.

Sue giggled tiredly at Pollux’s apology, continuing her affection. She appreciated it, though, especially with how much his prank had initially spooked her, trying to make that appreciation clear though pulling him a bit closer. His fur was nowhere near as soft or warm as Spark’s, but the entire experience was no less lovely because of that. “Apology accepted,” Sue beamed, glad to have resolved that unfortunate incident—

“I-I just thought it was Solstice,” the gray fox continued, “and d-didn’t see the difference until after...”

Sue didn’t comment on that, filing that admission into a mental drawer to come back to later. Right now, the little ones needed affirmation, and she needed answers about what was going on here—starting with their talents. “It’s okay, it’s okay. I-I’ve gotta shay, I’ve never run into someone that can do what you did, with that d-disguise and all...”

Her comment perked Pollux back up, his expression turning sly as he repeated his feat from the previous day, once more turning into the orange striped lion-dog. This time, though, his disguise only lasted for a moment before he reverted to his former appearance, giggling, “Hehe, we’re hard to find with our illusions~! Oh, Spark told us you’re from really far away!”

“^Yeah! And that there are only Normal types and Forest Guardians there—does that mean you’ve never seen a Dark-type before?^” the hat creature asked, their high-pitched words inadvertently steering the conversation towards where Sue actually wanted to go, making her nod firmly in response. “^See! I told you Pollux!^”

“No way!” the dark fox gasped, “Really!?”

“Mhm! You gave me a bit of a shcare!” Sue answered, meaning every single word of that sentence.

“Teehee... s-sorry.”

“Don’t worry, P-Pollux, it’s okay; I’m glad I finally got to meet you. Though… you’re not a D-Dark-type, are you~?” Sue asked the hatted creature, shifting everyone else’s attention over to them. A calmer moment let her check that for herself—and indeed, the girlish creature wasn’t just not Dark, but seemingly a fellow Psychic, answering the riddle of how they were all even talking in the first place.

“^Of course not,^” they squeaked, confused. “^Didn’t you feel me connecting us all?^”

Sue gulped quietly, realizing only in hindsight how weird of a question it was coming from a fellow Psychic. She tried to justify herself, “I-I did, I-I just wasn’t shure, I’ve never seen a—a you, either.”

“^I can tell, you’re not scared! My name is Thistle!^”

The immense whiplash between Thistle’s upbeat tone and the incredibly unnerving implication of her words slapped Sue across the face so hard it left a mark. It took her a while to blink through her confusion as she stared at the adorable cotton candy-colored hat girl, asking the obvious once she’d recovered. “...Wh-why would I be shcared of you?”

“^My mom told me our kin are really mean and aggressive in the wild! A-and that almost everyone fears us because of that...^” Thistle explained, reality poking a hole in her enthusiasm and letting excitement turn into somber, sadder feelings.

Sue was still confused as all hell, having a very hard time imagining the goofy pastel Psychic acting aggressive—or even just being remotely scary, for that matter. That didn’t stop her desire to cheer Thistle back up, though. She was about to reach in to contribute some affection before realizing she had no idea where on the hat creature was alright for her to touch.

What in the world is this hat-like growth anyway—

“^That’s my hair! And anywhere on it is fine!^” Thistle squeaked. That was the one answer Sue absolutely wasn’t expecting, but the clarification was nice, she supposed.

With how subtle Sundance and Solstice were, she wouldn’t have guessed the next Psychic she’d meet would be so… nonchalant about acting on her unspoken thoughts. The realization brought with itself a pang of fear that Sue soon shook off—it didn’t feel like Thistle was doing this for any malicious reasons. Maybe this was just how her ‘species’ was?

Wanting to calm her down, Sue gently petted along the blue ‘brim’ of the hair ‘hat’, the surface feeling much closer to skin than bundled-up hair. Odd as her anatomy was, Thistle wasn’t enjoying it any less than the two vulpine kiddos, her pinprick eyes closing as she lightly swayed in place.

Three kids cozying up with her next to a campfire, the feast’s noise turning into a distant ambience—as unnerved as Sue was walking here, this little scene turned out to be much more pleasant than she could’ve ever hoped for. She closed her eyes for a bit, taking it all in as she dispensed affection between the three, their small bodies snuggling her tighter by the moment.

Before long, though, the burning question on her mind reared its head again. “So, why are we hiding—”

The loud call coming from behind her made Sue jump in her seat, a glance over her shoulder barely making out a figure looking their way from the edge of the clearing. Pollux’s and Thistle’s reaction was instantaneous—the bonfire was suddenly suspended in an intense pink glow, getting smothered in a split second as the two took off into the pitch-black treeline.

Sue sat stunned at the suddenness of it all, brain still playing catchup as Spark barked something back at the voice. The fox’s gentle yank on her skin dress finally snapped her back to awareness, cold and anxious. After taking a moment to find her crutch, Sue got up and began to follow the kit back into Moonview, somehow ending up even more confused than before.

What were they doing there in the first place?

Why so close to Moonview’s edge?

Why did Thistle run too?

How come nobody noticed them sooner?

How come I didn’t see the bonfire until I was right next to it?

Could hair that looks so hat-like really be called hair anymore?

And of course, the question at the root of it all—

Why is Pollux hiding from Moonview?

In her dejected pondering, Sue almost didn’t notice the appearance of the villager that had inadvertently dispersed their group—one hell of a feat considering their appearance.

Their bipedal, reddish body radiated heat, prompting her to steer half a step further away, just in case. Even beyond their coloration and the warmth, a plume of pinkish flames flowed from the back of their head, its shape reminding Sue of an odd ponytail. Upon closer inspection, she spotted the large metal plates covering their upper arms and torso, covered with intricate engravings and green corrosion alike.

Sue had a good idea as to what their ‘type’ was, but no clue whatsoever just what they were.

Somewhat ethereal appearance, armor-shaped metal shards, all the flames… yeah, she got nothing. Maybe some sort of forge spirit? Not that ‘forge spirits’ ever made any sense as actual living beings, and she wouldn’t have expected an abstract being like that to be so human-shaped in the first place, anyway. Could be a spirit, could be some sort of fire elemental, could literally just be a really hot guy.

Or girl.

Either way, they were about as confused about her and Spark as she was about them, which… fair. Thankfully, the lil’ fox took all the talking upon herself, eventually convincing the flaming being to split up with them. Sue sensed Spark’s relief the moment the stranger left, the kit immediately scooting over to nuzzle her legs. Most tables were completely empty by now, many of the remaining feast-goers cleaning up after themselves.

Who would’ve thought that bestial freaks of nature have better table manners than my college year.

Their table hasn’t been spared the cleanup either. Dishes weren’t the only thing now gone, though, with Willow also absent. Sundance sighed loudly the moment Sue and Spark stepped back into view. “Goodness Spark, where were your friends at, the Central City?”

“Sorry! Tassel’s family was at the other end of the clearing! It took us a while to get there!” the kit pleaded.

Sue rolled her eyes at their long absence being blamed for her, but didn’t dwell on it for long. She had no idea whether Solstice or Sundance had caught Spark’s lie—if they had; they weren’t showing it.

The older vixen chuckled, “Sure, sure~. An appropriate time for us to head home as well.”

“Y-yeah-yaaawnn—”

Both Spark’s and Sue’s excitement quickly burned into exhaustion now that they were back with the rest of the group. The unanswered questions continued to spin around in Sue’s head, but thankfully for her, she soon grew too tired to focus on them. Much the same was true of Solstice, the older Forest Guardian looking like she was only keeping herself awake through sheer force of will.

The two sleeping kids in her arms and on her lap didn’t help, either.

“Mrs. Solstice, what about you? Aren’t you and Sue going to bed too?” Spark asked, staving her sleep off that bit more.

Solstice yawned and stretched, switching to telepathy to answer. “^We are. Just waiting for Astra to pick Joy up and we’ll rest, too—oh there she is, thank the Pale Lady.^”

Sue followed her line of sight at her comment, turning around and looking up at the night sky. A large silhouette was approaching fast, much larger and faster than any creature she’d seen in Moonview so far. The sight made Sue back a couple of steps away as the stranger finally landed, her wings kicking up dust as she came to a stop.

Now that she could inspect the scout closer, Sue realized she’d already glimpsed her before. Her orange coloration was no more threatening now than it was then, but her sheer size and the draconic parts of her soft appearance did their best to make up for that.

Her satchel’s the size of my hiking backpack, for crying out loud!

“Phew, finally back home—oh no, don’t tell me I missed it all!” Astra groaned. Sue didn’t expect her to be so soft-spoken considering their size—or so outwardly emotional, her body slumping forwards with a loud groan as Solstice’s nod confirmed her hunch. The dragon continued, “And I didn’t even find anything... is there at least some food left?”

“Mhm! Poppy saved a hearty portion for you, though you’ll have to ask her or Hazel where they’d stashed it,” Solstice reassured.

Astra sighed in relief, “At least there’s that, hah—*gasp!*” The entire gathering flinched at the sound, the psychics sensing the reason moments before the dragon herself exclaimed it, “Oh no, Joy!” Her voice trembled at realizing just how long she’d left the little one with no one to look after her. “Where’s—”

Before the dragon could freak out any further, a psychic glow let her spot the toothy tyke resting on Solstice’s lap, before being lifted into her arms, her embrace as huge as it was gentle. She soon spotted the bandage wrapped around Joy’s maw, though, gasping at the sight.

Sundance wasted no time in explaining what had happened, “She’s alright, Astra. Other children sadly got physical with her to the point of minor injury. I doubt she’ll want to spend much time with them on her own anymore, unfortunately…”

Astra was aghast at the news, holding the little one that much closer in response. Emotions boiled on her soft expression, anger mixing with sadness to produce despair. “Oh gods, I’m—I’m so sorry. It all took so long, I had to dodge thunderstorms on my way back, one of the snow people thought it’d be oh so funny to toss an Icicle Spear at me—a-and Joy got hurt a-and I couldn’t be there for her, and,” the dragon choked on her words as her voice wavered, eyes growing damper and damper, “and I-I can’t split myself like that... I don’t know what to do...”

Solstice took a deep breath, holding her own little one closer to herself. She may not have had much concrete advice, but wanted to reassure Astra nonetheless, reaching up to lay her hand on the dragon’s shoulder. “Rest for the next few days, Astra, scouting new lands can wait. But… you’re right. We’ll need to think of something in the long term, or find someone...”

The Mayor glanced up at Sue, thinking of how fond Joy was of her. Gears in her head turned at the idea, but it came with its own host of issues. Still, it was something to consider—consider tomorrow, in any case. “We can do that tomorrow; no need to worry about anything more today. We all deserve rest first—you especially, Astra.”

The dragon nodded wordlessly, a few tears rolling down her cheek as she held Joy close. Moment by moment, deep breathing slowly calmed her back down, as did gently stroking the toothy girl’s head and maw. “Okay. Okay. Tomorrow. I’m—I’m sorry for all this—”

“Don’t be Astra, you did all you could. I don’t doubt that one bit. I wish I could say that of the rest of us,” Solstice sighed. “Take care, Astra, and may She keep your rest peaceful.”

“M-mhm. Y-you too Solstice, a-and Sundance, and Spark, and Comet, and—” the dragon paused, her eyes finally meeting Sue’s.

Sundance helped her out, smiling as she walked over with Spark in her arms. “Sue. The Forest Guardian that you rushed to the village the other day.”

Astra’s eyes shot even wider at that. Before Sue could even react, she was suddenly pulled into a massive, tight hug, the dragon orienting her sideways to avoid being stabbed by her chest-mounted extremity. “YOU’RE ALRIGHT!” Astra half-squealed, half-roared. “Oh my gosh, I kept thinking of you while flying. You got hurt so bad and I was so worried but I never had the time to check up on you and you’re alright, oh my gods, I’m so happy you’re alright. That looked so scary.”

The outburst of joy once Astra had connected the dots between the bloodied, muddied, and otherwise grimy being she helped save just a few days ago, and the unassuming Forest Guardian next to her, was something immense. It almost overwhelmed Sue’s sixth sense, but the once-human was too preoccupied by hugging as much of the dragon as she could to care.

I’m much too tired and much too small to even come close to returning that hug, but that doesn’t mean I won’t try, goddammit!

“Yeah, I’m alright!” Sue answered, suddenly feeling tears flow down her cheeks. “I-I can’t thank you enough for helping me there! I-I thought I was dead there, I-I—” Lacking any words, Sue tried to hold Astra even tighter, once more not accomplishing much. The gesture was appreciated much the same; the dragon’s scaly and surprisingly soft arm held her close in return.

Astra beamed, “You’re welcome! I-I just happened to be at the right place, at the right time... and from what Spark told me, so were you to save her; right, Spark?”

The little fox responded with snores, having lost the battle with her own body in the meantime, making everyone still awake giggle. “I think she’s got the right idea,” Solstice chuckled. “We can wait with all the thanks until tomorrow, too.”

Astra nodded shakily as she let go of Sue, the once-human quickly stabilizing herself on her crutch. The dragon clearly wanted to say something more, but kept her words to herself for now, just nodding deeply in affirmation instead. “Tomorrow.”

“Mhm! And seeing how much Joy liked Sue today, I’ve little doubt she’ll try to drag you over to meet her anyway!” the Mayor continued.

The dragon’s expression turned to surprise, eyes glancing between the little one sleeping soundly in her arms and the still-relatively-small-one she helped save beside her. She really wanted to express her happiness at hearing that, but the resolve to wait until tomorrow held, an almost comically large smile filling her face instead. “Yeah. T-tomorrow. Sleep well Sue, a-and... thank you so much.”

Astra finally collected herself enough to take to flight again, holding Joy tight as she scanned the area for either half of the pantry couple. Sue didn’t get to see whether she’d end up finding them; Sundance soon tapping her shoulder and tilting her head for her to follow.

Guess the poles she saw yesterday were indeed lampposts.

The realization didn’t explain just what it was they were housing, though. ‘Fireballs’ was an answer, of course, but not one that really explained much at all. Even beyond that, Sue wasn’t sure if that non-answer was even accurate, with the flaming spheres in question sitting motionless and slowly shifting between red and purple.

As they all walked back towards the clinic, it struck Sue just how different Moonview felt at night. So much quieter on all her senses, so much more serene, nowhere near as alive, and yet… just as safe. A crescent moon shined on them from above, the sight deeply comforting in a way Sue couldn’t hope to describe.

“Even at her weakest, Her visage is full of hope, isn’t it?” Solstice asked. Sue nodded thoughtlessly at her words, needing a moment afterwards to consciously decipher their meaning. As odd as the religious reverence in the other Forest Guardian’s words felt, she couldn’t help but agree as the clinic came into view. Once they neared closer, Solstice continued; “It was a pleasure to finally meet you, Sue. My schedule is much clearer tomorrow, so if you’d want, you could pick your lessons back up with me after breakfast. How’s that sound?”

“I’d love to, th-thank you.” Sue nodded, excitement pushing past her exhaustion.

“Wonderful. See you tomorrow Sue, and may She keep your rest peaceful.”

Sundance chimed in, “Good night, Sue.”

“You too...”

With a by now well-practiced motion, Sue scrambled through the doorway once more. Her exhausted body gave in to the desire for rest the second her head touched the pillow, her crutch slipping until it eventually banged against the floor moments later.

The two women outside doubled back to check up on her at overhearing that sound, but thankfully, nothing was amiss. Only Sue, sinking into a deeper and deeper rest. Deeper and deeper,

Darker and darker...