Badgers, it seemed, were quite the ornery bunch.

Or at the very least Mama Badger was. I didn’t have much of an opinion on Papa Badger yet since he seemed content to sleep through the entire exchange, not showing the slightest sign of waking up. I couldn’t actually be sure if he could hear me or not, there was a chance that [Primal Communication] was a direct sort of thing rather than projecting to everyone all at once the same way talking to my monsters worked, but either way, he seemed to be sleeping like a rock.

It was honestly more fun for me to just pretend that he was a heavy sleeper and couldn’t be bothered by the sounds of talking. At some point he had rolled over onto his side, paws twitching and his upper lip pulling back from wickedly sharp teeth as he grunted softly. He seemed to be dreaming about running or maybe hunting from what I could gather of his movements. It seemed to be a pretty deep sleep, and he appeared in no danger of waking up any time soon.

As for Mama Badger, she remained right where she had been at the start of our conversation, sitting on her plush little rump with her cute face projecting an expression that screamed “unimpressed” at me. If I didn’t know that she could hear me then I would almost think that she was just staring ahead into space, she was that unphased by pretty much everything I was saying to her.

The only time she had seemed to be upset was when I had suggested that I might accidentally scare her off when I had been explaining why I hadn’t told her that I was here any sooner.

She had snorted, a sharp exhale through her nose as she tossed her head in a defiant gesture that almost demanded that I fight here that very moment. “This is my home. I chose it for myself. You think something like you could run me off? I’d fight you to my dying breath, that’s what I’d do.”

Other than that nothing else seemed to bother her, and she had remained mostly silent through my full explanation, odd little noise here or there aside. She seemed to be absorbing all of the information slowly, processing it, coming to some sort of conclusion that I could only begin to guess at. If it weren’t for her little noises I might have thought she had zoned out at some point, she was just that still and quiet.

When I told her that I was the tunnel around her and also a rock she had simply huffed, when I explained that there were kobolds living elsewhere in the tunnels where she couldn’t see she had made a grunting noise, and when I explained that I wanted to work together so we were both happy she merely groaned as if tiring of the whole situation.

“You done yet?”

Even without actual sounds leaving her it translated easily into speech as something annoyed and clipped, and I found myself almost rolling my core off my shelf in an attempt to appease her. I strangely wanted the badger to like me, to approve of me, and the fact that she had done little more than scratch her ears and lick her claws had left me on edge. It made no sense that I even cared. She was just fuel for me, a mana battery, a living source of food in an admittedly cute package.

I couldn’t even remember if I was done yet! Did she need to know what dungeons were? That I needed to invite humans in if I wanted to grow? Had I explained that I wanted her to slow her building until after I had built another room and that I could help her dig tunnels after that? Did she know that the kobolds were willing to work with her?

Her blank, black, glossy eyes stared into nothing as she waited for my answer. It frustrated me that I couldn’t read her facial expressions. It left me entirely at a loss.

“Yes ma-am.”

Mama Badger huffed, a soft sound that I had grown very familiar with. It was almost a comforting noise to me at this point. That huffing was the sound of my dungeon, the oldest noise that I knew. It was the kind of sound that I knew I would miss if she chose now to leave the dungeon and never come back.

“Alright then. Kor, was it?” She paused long enough for me to confirm before she continued. “I got no idea what all this mana nonsense is, and I don’t give a good hot damn about it either. If it’s mutual benefits you’re after then it’s something I’m used to. I grew up in a large family, I know all about scratching your back to get mine scratched.”

It was the most I had “heard” her “say” all at once. Though she was making the occasional noise it seemed to be mostly translated from intent mixed with body language, the few sounds here or there cementing certain meanings to some of the words.

It was hard to convey how it all worked, or if the version she got from me was the same as what I was getting from her, but somehow [Primal Communication] was making it happen. All I could do was hope that what I had told her actually made sense to her since I wasn’t sure how a lack of a body could communicate with her given how she “spoke” to me. It was all very mysterious and very frustrating. I would give anything to know how the skill actually worked.

“I don’t have a back.”

Mama Badger made a scoffing sound then, but [Primal Communication] chose to translate it into a peal of laughter. While the “voice” it used when she spoke was rather rough sounding, the one for her laughter was downright pretty. I instantly wanted to make her laugh again. “Right. You’re a rock. They ain’t got backs last I checked. Point is: you do something for me, I do something for you, we’re both better off.”

That did sound like what I wanted, so I made a noise of agreement that I had picked up from listening to her. It seemed to translate well enough because she seemed downright satisfied by it, her furry little chest puffing out as she lifted her head.

“You’re practically a badger already.”

I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to take that, but it sounded like it was meant to be a compliment so I thanked her for it all the same. Mama Badger continued to seem pleased by my words, a soft snort leaving her that was translated into the happy vibrating sounds that Cobble and Cobalt both made. Knowing that I was making her happy felt strangely rewarding. It was so much better than merely cleaning up the tunnels after her and hoping that she appreciated the silent effort I was making.

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“Just me living here helps you, right? So you keep an eye out for me. Anything comes in these tunnels just let us all know. Rabbits, other badgers, snakes. You see ‘em, you say something, got it?”

I did indeed have the idea. I wasn’t really sure what a snake was but I could always make [Appraisal] earn its keep. As far as alerting her, I probably didn’t have to worry about anything that came in through my side, just her own. Unless it could open the door then anything from my side wouldn’t be that big of a deal for her.

From the sound of it, I had a feeling that she was planning to do a lot of expansion in the near future. I got a strange idea from her words, an almost solid image of a network of small round rooms, with tunnels branching off of them. There were lots of exits for a quick escape in case of trouble, leading away from a main area. I wasn’t sure if it was a side effect of [Primal Communication] or not, but it seemed to be what her idea of tunnels looked like.

“Yes ma’am, I’ll let you both know if anything wanders in that shouldn’t be here.”

She snorted again, a sound that was apparently approval. “You’re a smart thing. We’ll get along fine. It was getting a bit lonely just me and Basil right now anyway. We ain’t used to such a small family… Just didn’t expect it to grow this way.”

Wait. Basil? Was that Papa Badger’s name? How did that even work? And what was Mama Badger’s name, for that matter? I really should have guessed that they would have names of some sort, but for some reason, I was still feeling surprised.

“Basil? That’s the male badger with you, right?”

“That’s him. Bit of a fighter, older than me, but he was the very best male I could find, and no female for him either, which really sealed the deal. We’ll have real healthy children to start a new family with.”

I didn’t really get badgers, and Inner Voice wasn’t helping explain anything, but at least I had confirmed that the badgers had names for each other. I wasn’t sure how exactly she was communicating it to me, but at least it was consistent with what I knew.

“So he’s Basil… And what’s your name?”

“Sunflower.”

I didn’t really know what basil and sunflower were, but I had the distinct impression that they were kinds of plants that I hadn’t seen yet. Maybe they named each other based on favourite plants? Or on scents? It was impossible to tell thanks to an actual lack of words, and if I asked I couldn’t even be sure it would translate properly. I wasn’t sure what series of movements, sounds, or looks even gave me the names in the first place.

Plus Mama Badger, or rather Sunflower, was so no-nonsense that I had a feeling she would find my question to be pretty stupid. After all, it felt pretty stupid to me, and I was the one who had come up with the question in the first place.

“I like your name.”

She made a scoffing noise again, pure annoyance from what I could gather, and this time she got up off her rump. She stretched herself out, wiggling her legs out from where she had been still for so long, and then began to head back to where Papa Badger, Basil, was still sleeping.

“It’s just a name, nothing to like about it. If we’re done sorting this all out I’m going to get some sleep. Growing babies is hard work, no wonder they don’t just let everyone do it.”

That was an interesting thought. What did that even mean? Not everyone was allowed babies? Was it like how I needed to save up points to make monsters? I must have made some sort of sound that translated along our line of communication because Sunflower paused with a long-suffering sigh as if I had just ruined her entire day.

“Out with it already. I can practically feel you vibrating with questions… Guess this is as good a practice as any for raising my own babies as I’ll ever get…”

Ignoring the part where I was either adopted as her child or compared to one, I decided to go ahead and pose my question. It seemed like either way I would annoy her, and I had the distinct sensation that saying “Nevermind, don’t worry about my question” would do so far more than actually asking it.

“What do you mean that not everyone is allowed to have babies?”

One of her ears flicked slightly, and Sunflower squinted, considering a root that ran along the ceiling as her head tilted ever so slowly to one side. “In my family, only certain females could have babies. If you disobeyed and did it anyway then your babies would be killed by them. I wanted to be a mother, so I found Basil and left.”

There was something about her words, or at least the way [Primal Communication] translated them, that seemed somehow sad. Had she lost children before? Or was her longing to be a mother just so great that she couldn’t stand life as it had been before? There was no way of knowing based on what she had said, and I didn’t want to pry anymore. Not just because it seemed upsetting a subject to dig into, but also because I seemed to be stretching her patience rather thin.

Sunflower waited a moment longer, paused outside of the room where Basil was sleeping as if waiting for me to ask something else before she finally went inside. Huffing and puffing she threw herself against him, causing him to briefly wake in a series of confused grunts. Sunflower grumbled at him as she laid down, stretched out against his side, and before her breathing evened out he was already back to snoring softly.

He really was a heavy sleeper then. It was safe here in their home, and so long as he had no reason to be on edge he seemed content to just sleep away. I found myself wanting to make sure that they could both sleep in peace.

They were a cute pair, no matter the circumstances that had drawn them together.

“Sweet dreams, Mama and Papa Badger.”

I turned my attention back to my kobolds, but at some point while I had been mostly preoccupied with Sunflower it seemed as if they had decided to bed down for the day as well. The sheepskin that had been so carefully removed had been stretched out across the floor beneath my core, and Cobalt and Cobble lay side by side across it.

The fire was down to only softly glimmering coals, and a pile of bones lay to one side of the room waiting to be turned into actual tools and weapons. The dungeon was quiet, only the sounds of the outside world leaking in as the sun slowly rose.

Cobble hadn’t slept at all since I had made her, so it was no surprise that she was out hard, sprawled on her back with her mouth open and the strangest noises leaving her. Snorts and squeaks filled the air, all of them originating from Cobble’s throat.

Cobalt lay against her side, his body tucked and curled into a crescent shape. His forehead was pressed underneath one of her arms, his tail over one of her legs as he tried to fit his body into the space that she had left behind.

Looking at them I found myself feeling rather fond. They were monsters, created just to fight and defend me, to gather food to fuel my digging, but that was no reason for me to not appreciate them.

They were a pretty cute pair, after all.