Though they had sat in the darkened main room of the den to view a recording of a festive and spectacular event, it eventually turned into a dredging of old wounds, finally bleeding a festering despair as Sunundra held the strange male. She wasn't sure how much time passed before he politely requested release, but every moment was fulfilling a need more primal than any she knew to dwell within. Yet bliss announced its end when he applied a light squeeze, lessening the lopsided embrace expectantly.

Defiance arose at the thought of it being over—the intoxicating deluge of his scent, the rhythmic beat of his heart reverberating through her claws, and the warmth that seeped into her flesh. The contact she had wished for was within her paws, infinitely more addictive than ever imagined, and now…

The instant bark of refusal was pressed down, her muzzle clamping shut in surprise at the internal demand to remain close. The desire came from a strange origin she couldn’t quite place, the voiceless whispers flowing into her ears and birthing an urge to coat him in her scent. To claim him. To protect and be protected, not allowing even the Void itself to touch him without taking her first.

It itched and tempted her to act.

A jolt went down her spine as she forced herself away, hopefully not appearing too hasty. The impulse had startled her, true, but he need not feel burdened further by her own inadequacy. Whatever…that was…could be reflected upon some other time. Right now, she was looking at the sullen face of the male who tried his best to smile despite the redness around his eyes.

The sudden absence from immersing herself in his touch left her somewhat dissatisfied—a disorienting sensation of something cherished being removed tickling at her thoughts—but she relented before she could ruin whatever progress had been made. Blood pooled in her cheeks as she registered that she had all but smothered him without warning.

“Ap—”

“I'm—

The pale-furred female caught the words in her throat to let him speak, but he mirrored the action, leaving both awaiting the other in uncertain silence. She folded her paws on her lap, quietly nodding for him to continue while her ears pitched forward to hear every detail.

Bill gave a weak smirk, shame colouring his face as he scratched at his jaw. “I'm sorry to ruin the mood. It's been…years now…but watching a video I thought I lost—seeing her before she got sick…? It still feels like it was only last week that she made that promise.”

There was despondency in his voice, but also worry, the second almost too subtle to pick up. Somehow she knew the sound perfectly. It merged with her own concern for the male before her.

Hesitation gripped her stomach. “Are your kits…?”

“They're fine,” he assured quietly, cycling a breath to collect himself. “Half the reason I left Sol in the first place was so they'd stop worrying about me.”

“Is that not a fortunate occurrence?” she asked with a tilted frown.

“Yeah, but they're both grown up now and I'd rather they didn't worry about their old man.” He shrugged, letting his head loll back to stare at the ceiling. “Everything's hard enough without having me drag them down.”

“How would that come to be?”

He shifted his gaze to her and was met with nothing but sincerity. She made sure of that. She wanted to know anything—no, everything—that plagued him. He was so far from his den, and if she was all he had, then she would be all he needed.

Bill exhaled a short huff, a sardonic smirk pulling at his lips. “One keeps trying to send money when he barely has enough to stay afloat, and the other is saving up to move me off the planet.” His eyes shifted away, a deep guilt glinting in the low light. “I'd rather they focus on living the life I could never give them—a good job, a wife, a nice house…kids, if they want them. I'm a lower priority than that. Besides, I might not have much, but you don't really need it when there’s no one else at home to complain.”

The male's dry laugh did nothing to dispel the tightness in her chest. If anything, she could only see a warped reflection of what she constantly told herself to keep the Void at bay, willfully ignorant to the tendrils burrowing into her soul fraction by fraction.

One more sun. One more try. One more smile.

Just one more until she would be happy. Just one more until she could escape the fate she had been shackled to. Just one more lie to herself added to the pile, and one more crack in the glass keeping her from an eternal descent.

She saw the reflection of long moons spent staring at the wall in that visage, the image of her paws being a mere twitch away from granting release. She saw every deployment ending the same, the rest of the unit congratulating each other while she could only be thankful that her contribution was successful, and that there was still a unit left to celebrate. She saw a kit—abandoned and scared—listening to the priests that glared down with disdain for the defective young staining their place of worship, promising kindness in exchange for grueling work and prayer, yet never bestowing a reward.

She had self-delusion and hope. He had a memory of happiness which slipped from his grasp, leaving only suffering in its wake.

Alone…

Wait.

Her brows furrowed sharply, an unease settling into her stomach. “What of your den?”

“That word still tags all over the place,” he noted airily. “Do you mean my house, or my family?”

“Both,” she offered after a moment. “Is your den-pack not awaiting your return?”

“I live alone now, but I'm assuming you all do denser… Know what? That ‘pack’ thing is starting to make more sense now. No, we typically live in pairs when we can. Where I’m from, anyway.”

They…were a naturally isolated species? “Then who tends to the kits while others are away?”

“I did, for the first while. She had enough income that I could get by doing occasional contract work and look after them when school was over. Things got more difficult later on though. We couldn't afford a ‘sitter, but they were smart kids. They knew their mother wasn't able to crack down on them if they did something stupid anymore, and I was always working whenever I wasn’t home helping her, so they tried their best to behave. I think they noticed how hard it was for us, because at some point, I blinked…and my little bundles of chaos had stopped being so little. They were forced to grow up before they even knew what being young was, becoming adults out of necessity.”

He stared down into the open furless paws resting on his lap, one still holding the expended sparkler she had made for him. They clenched into fists.

“That's when I knew I was a failure as a father. So, to answer your questions: no, I don't have anyone waiting for me, and I don't want my sons wasting what they have on someone who couldn't give them what they needed. As long as they find a life they're happy with, then I'll be happy too. I can die proud knowing that they'll spend their lives striving to be more than I ever was.”

She grabbed both of his paws with her own, spurred by the ever-growing need for contact. He raised a brow, but didn't pull away, instead quietly questioning why she seemed so distressed by something he had internalized as fact. Sunundra’s voice fought its way out.

“I am defective—my scent is repulsive to my kind, and I am unable to detect other’s pheromones...”

Her confidence waned. An unsettling sensation sitting in her chest forced her to look away, lest his reaction steal what motivation she had mustered.

“Or…I was. I left the base in pursuit of the Union’s offer to alleviate my condition, though they only managed to make it worse. I was rejected before, and am naught but danger to any den or mates I wish to have now.”

The pressure within her paws increased, Bill applying a light grip in return. “Hey, I don’t know the deal with ‘pheromones’ or whatever, but there’s got to be someone who doesn’t mind, right?”

“Perhaps, but where before they would have been viewed as a mere deviant, they would now be associated with one who silently exudes threats of harm to others. I am but a liability to the health of any who would have me; their peers would distance themselves in only the most favourable reaction—a hostile rejection would be most likely—and though I have spent my existence striving for companionship, my chances at such were stolen from my grasp as soon as I thought it assured.”

It hurt, yet she continued through the pain as layers of self-deception ripped away to unveil the truth. The fabric which blurred the reality of the world had torn many times, but she always patched her resolve with prayer and refusal to accept anything less than the hope of absolution.

She drew a breath before the remaining traces of her resolve evaporated.

“My den was average by most standards. I had been born into a den-pack of eighteen—ten adults and eight kits. Being surrounded by love and affection is sadly something which occurred before I am able to recall, but I surely was. As soon as my light came to my life, I found myself clutching a token. Such is hardly notable now, and yet it proved to be the greatest irony. It was a symbol of the church to ward off the defect and designate me as a kit of the faithful, and in turn, a faithful myself. ‘Embrace this kit within your adoration, for she will struggle tooth and claw to keep her devotion true.’ A sad reality.

“Perhaps it was shortly after my vision cleared that the adults grew weary; I had yet to follow my blood-parent’s scent to find them throughout the den, and locating myself was often difficult. Our olfactory is supposed to be our first fully-developed sense—with pheromone production taking longer to mature—so my behaviour was worrying from both a medical standpoint, and…”

Sunundra swallowed, all too aware that Bill was still holding her paws, and that his focus was undividedly hers.

“Their fears were proven true when my exocrine system started functioning fully. Instead of informing my kin that I was small and whose progeny I was, it began giving off a deafeningly neutral profile. I was repulsive—a corpse which moved and smiled, oblivious to the scent of disgust and hatred filling the den. Soon, my den-brothers and sisters avoided me, then the adults.

“‘They were busy,’ I told myself. ‘My siblings wish to play alone.’ ‘I should be like them and not bother the big.’ ‘Maybe they’ll allow me to rest with them if I am good.’”

Her throat closed, claws stopped from shredding the internal obstruction by his touch and the sympathetic gaze that she couldn’t meet.

“I learned quite some time later that a kit sleeping by themselves was not only worryingly unusual, but detrimental to their development. It causes stress to build and inhibits growth,” she added, shrugging to indicate her stature. Though she had grown to at least meet the lower end of expected heights, she was still much shorter than any of her blood. A desperate thought some years ago suggested she might have been accepted if she was taller, and thus the research unveiled a likely factor, but no solutions.

“Two. Two years after I gained my sight was what it took for me to notice that I was despised, and that was only because three den-parents argued with my sire, then never returned, taking their kits with them.” The dryness of her tongue failed to wet her lips. “I was able to tell apart a strained indifference from hatred that moon, for his eyes held no affection for the kit ruining his den. I sequestered myself to my room—a recurring habit ever since—and only exited when called or for meals. Eventually, they stopped asking for me, and the food provided out of obligation was placed in front of my door. I spent…a long time alone. I cannot say the duration, exactly.

“One moon, my blood-mother actually entered. I was scared. I held not joy that I had been sought out, but fear for what the reason might be. A kit—isolated and unwanted—felt terror at another’s company, for she knew not what else she would lose when she had so little. I think that was what broke my mother. She came with wrath and ire, yet froze upon seeing her offspring in the corner, unwilling to so much as sleep on the bed provided lest the untidy sheets remove the fraction of care she had been afforded. I was a mess of matted fur and unwieldy claws, giving up because I believed the Hunt Mother had decided I was not worth the soul I had been blessed with, and had sent a faithful to reclaim it.”

The tendrils of the depths pierced her flesh, following the same path as the memory, yet she trudged forward, finally baring the scarring beneath the skin.

“I was held instead. She sobbed and apologized—mournful for what she had done to her young—and begged for forgiveness. For another chance. I was young and fractured, so I promised in an instant, soaking in a rarity that was commonplace for most. She taught me how to pray, and joined me in petitioning the Hunt Mother for guidance through my trial.”

“I’m glad you made up,” Bill whispered, an edge to his voice suggesting he already suspected what her response would be. Sunundra laughed mirthlessly.

“For a time, yes. She would come and pray with me—sometimes for strength, other times for mercy—though I was never able to hear the specifics. I still remained in my room, but I was given embrace and attention on occasion. I thought blessings were all that awaited me.”

His voice turned sharp, quietly cutting through the momentary pause. “That’s no way to raise a child.”

She suppressed the burning indignation replacing her melancholy with flickering flames. “She didn’t. Not for much longer, that is. Unbeknownst to me, the arguments within the den continued, my scent seeping through the cracks of the door and tainting the air. My blood-parents entered my room one sun with smiles and asked if I wished to visit the church with them to pray… I wanted nothing more… I was blind to the sick satisfaction in my father’s eyes. I ignored the bliss on my mother’s visage…”

The grip on her paws became painful under his tensed form. An inferno sparked within, wisps of willpower being all that prevented Bill from being punctured by claws as the wrath coursed through her veins. It was overpowering, yet she persisted, bleeding sorrow from the memory as he had.

“I was given a tour and shown the residence for members of the clergy… When the priest offered their sanctum for me to deliver my prayer, I accepted. A faithful renewed, I prayed. A defect gained, a trial given, a reward promised through piety… The small kit wished to seek praise for her devotion from her den, and yet they had left. ‘An urgent matter arose,’ was what they told me. I waited. ‘They are delayed,’ they assured. I waited. ‘They will send someone as soon as possible,’ they promised. I waited. ‘They have entrusted us with your care…’”

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An axe hung over her neck, the cinders of her soul going dark. Her throat pulled upon itself, unable to swallow the knot that formed, her voice cracking.

“And still, I waited. They couldn’t very well have a kit staring into the street from the steps every waking moment, much less a defect—It was bad for the other faithful’s attendance—so I was put to work. Cleaning, disposing of unrecyclable materials… I was set to any task which did not require training, eventually being assigned with organizing the chemicals they stored to keep me out of sight.”

Her gaze wandered to the four rods remaining on the table.

“It was accidental at first, but I discovered that certain combinations produced interesting results. It became my obsession. I started begging for books or terminal access to learn, then taught myself everything I needed to know to make more with whatever was given to cease my speech. Smoke at a whim, fire with a flick, ice out of naught but the ambient humidity… I became useful. I was tolerated. I was blinded by the opportunity. Fixated by the possibilities. As soon as I matured, I sought an application for my usefulness, driven by the priests to succeed. The military offered purpose. It promised salvation from my loneliness.

“I joined, proved my utility, and was assigned a pack-unit to protect. They were to be kin. Allies. Those whom I would grow to love and cherish, then have such affection returned endlessly… They wanted nothing of me. Still, I protected, following my own path in constraining my use to ensuring those I was responsible for would enter engagements as safely as possible. When I was reassigned to my current station, I still held hope that my contributions would have earned some favour, but they cheered and packed my belongings for me, shutting the door the moment I was clear of it.”

She exhaled a long breath and pulled away, smiling as she should when her eyes met the strange male’s, but it was wrong. She had not the strength to feign joy, nor the energy to lighten her tone. There were no more lies to hide behind now. A bitter truth was all that remained.

“And so I stayed in a room by myself—abandoned and ignored in perpetuity—until I was called to bring forth destruction and criticized for my preference in target. A symbolic return to youth as a terrified kit, convincing herself that she could be accepted…that she could be loved…if she just did better. Was better. If she only improved her craft and planned everything down to how often she should blink during a greeting. If she was mindful of the scents she could not detect, and combated the foul odour she produced unwillingly, then affection could be earned.

“The Union offered to fix me…yet all they did was engineer a fate less favourable. I will be attacked and threatened, insulted and repelled. Simple acts such as purchasing goods in person are now unviable, while seeking another is little more than a mere promise to see them ostracized and harmed for associating with me. I am finally what I refused to believe—unlovable. Unwanted. I abandoned the shield of hope for the damnation of folly, and even my Goddess refuses to hear my pleas.”

Bill’s eyes radiated a numbed pain and horror, a hatred she was so familiar with resting behind the pity. How strange it was to stare into it without fear. “Sun…”

A shake of her head left his words trailing into the stagnant air. “Apologies for the sudden contact. As much as I would like to claim it was purely to comfort you, such would be a falsehood. Though true, it was only a partial motivator, for I wondered what the touch of another felt like, and sought to experience it before we are separated and I must—”

A sudden tug clamped her muzzle shut, the male’s arms wrapping around her and halting the need to speak as she was pressed into his chest.

“Shut up,” he snapped, the tension in his form holding her perfectly still. He was like a loaded spring ready to let loose his rage, yet his embrace was tender and mournful, treating her as a precious crystal which would shatter at the slightest disturbance. “I don’t want to hear another word.”

She did as told, not a single fibre of her being wishing for this to end. The pillars on which she stood had crumbled, and yet he caught her. Nothing would compare. Nothing would replace it.

“How the hell do you say that and still smile at me?” he asked rhetorically, a dampness to his words. “How can you wake up in the morning, knowing that’s what’s waiting for you? How can you worry about me when that is eating you whole?”

She wasn’t able to provide an answer to his queries. She could only repeat what she was told by her blood-mother while travelling to the church—words that remained ingrained as if adhering would somehow give back that which she desired most.

“The Hunt Mother cares not for kits who bend and break during her trial. One must walk, even when their legs refuse to move and fatigue eats at their very bones. One must smile, even while sorrow rips them in two and joy is but a distant memory. One must appear as the very image of affability, even when rejection leaves them scarred and numb. One must strive to meet their goal until the Void itself comes to collect their form…and even then they must struggle.”

“And what did that get you?” he growled, his hold tightening. “Tossed aside for something as stupid as smell? What, did they just never bother working on ointments or something to cover it up? A treatment? What about your perfume, is that not good enough?”

The pale-furred female fell quiet for a moment. “Those afflicted are rare, and it is a belief that they are symbols of dens disowned by the Goddess—faithful whose devotion is called into question. The kits are punishment. They are a test of loyalty to the Great Hunt. Raising a symbol of their repudiation by the Hunt Mother would absolve them of their sins.”

“Religion? That’s what screwed you over?” The embrace grew tighter again, the creak of her bones meaning nothing in the face of how loud his heart was beating for her. How totally she occupied his thoughts, no matter the context. Her own chest thrummed in synchrony.

“Those who do not follow the path are few, and of those, even less would tempt the ire of the whole.”

The pressure encapsulating her lessened all at once. “You have nobody? Not even a friend? Acquaintances?”

Her silence said more than her voice ever could. The pit of rage subsided, replaced by a tingling static.

“Me,” he whispered, the shell of protection shifting into a tender touch of affection. “I’m not much, but I’m more than happy to call you a friend. Anything you need, just ask, okay? I’ll do whatever I can. Nobody deserves to be so alone.”

His embrace ended suddenly, her paw stopping his arms from moving too far away. Fear bubbled to the surface. “Bill?”

“Yeah?”

“...I wish to stay like this for a while longer.”

Terror ceased in an instant, replaced by a warmth which flowed effortlessly through her veins. It was tinted by pity, true, but it floated in her chest, lifting the fragments of her heart and coalescing them into something more. Then, she knew what that soothing sensation was, for she had been chasing it longer than she had memory.

Love. For kin, for friends, and for mates. So cloudy was it that she could do nothing but accept all its meanings as a treasure to cherish. The male gave a stiff nod, relaxing after a few motions as he adjusted to allow them both a more comfortable posture, her paws slipping behind him and gaining purchase on his back. His voice reinforced the feeling, coming out softly as it poured into her ears like honey coating her in his colours.

“Of course, Sunshine. As long as you need.”

- - - - -

Things were…different...since the moon where they had held each other to seek comfort in company. Not in any way she would dislike, but certainly in a notable fashion. She now rested with her door open—while remaining mindful not to remove all her garments, of course—and he spent most of his time documenting his experience cohabitating with her species while on the couch instead of in his room. After the first few suns of politely asking if her inclusion would be bothersome, his flat annoyance became no longer needed, the pale-furred female simply taking up whichever space he left vacant on the furniture. She had even tempted fate by resting against him while she worked on her latest prototype, yet he accepted the contact wordlessly, a comforting sensation filling her core.

The routine led to a new development as well. She had started asking questions as they crossed her mind, revealing several curious answers.

As a species officially included in the Union, he was given access to what he described as a ‘requisition system,’ allowing him to place orders for whatever was needed—pending a review process and several layers of bureaucracy. It was how he replaced her translator, though he spent a while grumbling about how hard he had to push for them to provide something meeting various requirements. There was currently a request for more foodstuffs, and assuming the correspondence was to be believed, then that should arrive sometime this sun, which was exciting in a mundane way.

The documents he referenced while she was ill were indeed the ones he was unwilling to delete once his mate passed. Sunundra berated herself for asking, but he scratched between her ears absently when he noticed, the act placating her with startling ease. It was nice, and his dulled claws could apply quite a bit of pressure on small points without worry of puncturing the skin. It was a shame he didn’t do it more often, but the thought of bringing it up was still slightly beyond what she was comfortable doing, even if she was sure he wouldn’t mind.

As far as his ongoing recording of their den-pack, it was apparently a prerequisite of participation for him. He was to note their activities, the broad strokes of their conversations, and anything else which might influence if the Lilhuns would join the Union or not. Though policy barred him from sharing the specifics, she was assured that he submitted a glowing recommendation with every update, as well as several strongly worded requests to look deeper into their experiments with correcting the defect.

It silenced her when he mentioned doing so with such nonchalance, the male waving a paw to dismiss the irritation in his tone. An urge which had once been subdued now returned, itching at her teeth to take him as her own. To claim her other half.

Of course, such was repressed as much as she was able, denying the demands which her body made. Her mind was clouded enough as it was, but even trying to parse the details of why such was happening was beyond her capabilities. It was difficult to remain focused in his presence, yet being without it only filled her with yearning, like a puzzle calling for its missing piece. Was this what she had been devoid of for all these years? Was this fondness and affection? Were dens built upon it, mates selected, and packs formed? If so, then perhaps her deficiency could finally rest within her mind instead of occupying her thoughts so frequently.

The gift was never meant for her, but she could live smiling for those who received it, knowing how fulfilling it must be.

Regardless, the routine had been modified to greatly include time with each other, which was why she was currently quite amused by her den-mate seeming so serious about that which held no consequence.

“Then it’s just a bit of…this stuff?” Bill asked, hesitantly pointing to a stabilizing agent. Sunundra gave no confirmation, opting to watch the male navigate the various compounds laid out on the coffee table as she sat attentively on the couch next to him. His grin turned into a playful frown. “Fine, but if I blow us up, it’s your fault.”

She tilted her head innocently, a smirk belying her confidence. “Then it would be best if you chose wisely, no? It would hardly paint a favourable picture if our guest was to be greeted by a mess.”

He attempted to scowl at two of the likely chemicals, eventually deciding on the first through his chuckle at her morbid humour before rolling his eyes upwards in thought. He measured out roughly the correct amount, passing the completed mixture to be evaluated by the explosives expert, the pale-furred female making a show of scrutinizing it while he awaited her evaluation with a bated breath and expectation in his gaze.

“This…” She dragged the word out, enjoying the tension building in his shoulders. “...is correct.”

The male exhaled dramatically, or perhaps he truly thought she would allow a mixture more volatile than what he requested. Either way, he cheered, celebrating his success far louder than he likely intended. He coughed into his fist after the outburst to feign casualness, but all she could do was chuckle at the atmosphere and enjoy the warmth he brought to her soul as she gathered the paper-like casings they would be using for the ‘firecrackers.’

Her muzzle couldn’t conceal the smile proudly displaying itself as she added a small fuse to each of the tiny bombs. She normally refused to make omni-directional explosives, but in light of their non-destructive application and his polite request to join her in the hobby, she allowed them, the collection of miniature fireworks being set aside for later use. After a quick reiteration of what to expect from the devices, they decided on using a metal plate for the testing site, placing it on the ‘dining’ table for when everything was ready.

The jarring buzzer of the exit caused her ears to flatten, but Bill was unconcerned, his expression full of excitement as he went to address the source of the grating noise. While the male had been reticent about what he had ordered, she was more interested in the method of delivery, wondering if the person would resemble the foggy blurs she recalled from her first introduction to some species. It was a shame that her memory had degraded, but perhaps such was to be expected when one was sedated for a likely extensive procedure.

The door popped open, followed by an odd smell and Bill’s relaxed greeting.

“Oh, hey! Come on in. Thanks for bringing it.”

Her eyes fixated on the new being as they entered, an unfamiliar deep voice going through her translator. “Not a problem. They tell us to just drop things off, but it gets boring in stores and these are heavy, so I figured you’d like some help.”

A wide box came into view, then a darker complexion. Another human? Instead of the pinkish hue she was used to, this one was a more brownish colour, as well as a touch shorter than the male she had come to know—though still taller than herself. It nodded in her direction, the bland grey uniform carrying scripts and logos of various origins. Bill collected a second box just outside, his words delayed by a grunt as he hefted it into his arms.

“So you guys just sit around waiting for people to put in requests?”

The new one—a male, assuming Bill’s late mate was a reliable template—glanced over his shoulder with a defeated sigh. “More like we spend all day getting things together. The fabricators are pretty versatile, but they don’t give us much time between receiving the production list and getting things out. This is one of maybe five for today though, so all-in-all, a pretty relaxed shift. How’s things going on this end?”

The taller of the two walked forward to guide the other into the kitchen, Sunundra keeping her distance as her mind struggled to process everything.

“Good! I showed Sunshine there a video of the first Unification Day, so we were just setting up a little test for firecrackers.”

“Firecrackers?” the new one asked, raising a brow in her direction from the archway. “Oh, I’m Greg. I work with local logistics and delivery. Nice to meet you.”

Her voice caught in her throat. Should she introduce herself with her name? She only told Bill because she felt anything less would be akin to disregarding his kindness. A wariness built within, yet ‘Greg’ seemed unconcerned with her lack of response, turning his attention back to her den-mate.

“I had some ammo for those cheap cap-guns in the bottom of my bag,” Bill called mirthfully. “Ever use those? Little plastic things that did nothing but make noise and stink up the place?”

Greg chuckled, shaking his head as he laid down his box and opened it, removing various items and passing them along to be stored away. “Maybe as a kid. Be careful with that though. They’re not huge fans of the fire suppression system going off. Makes a huge mess and cleaning it takes forever. Stinks too.”

“That bad?”

“It’s nasty. Had a unit set it off a few days ago—probably left something in the oven too long. Must’ve taken the poor guy hours to scrub everything, and god knows about how long it’ll reek. The furry xeno he was staying with was not impressed, I’ll tell you that much.”

Bill slowed in his sorting, curiosity in his tone. “Another Lilhun? How are they doing? We had a big meeting last week, but I wasn't really able to chat with anyone.”

“Good, as far as I could tell,” Greg offered, removing what seemed to be the last item in his box. Satisfied, he stood, collapsing the packaging into a startlingly small square and slipping it into his pocket before leaning against the archway. “Well, it was. From the lecture I heard, the guy is sleeping on the couch until he gets rid of the smell.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm. Oh, I’ll take the box when you’re done. Thanks. Anyway, yeah. It sounded like things were going pretty good there. They said they put in a request to use the skydeck for something to do and really hit it off. They’re trying for a pairing status now. Stick together once everything is said and done, you know?”

Sunundra’s ears perked, listening intently as Bill closed the cupboards and came back to the main room with a thoughtful expression. “Think they’ll pass it?”

Greg shrugged. “Hard to say, but it’s not a bad idea. Even if they wait until the official membership, at least the request will be near the front of the queue, right?”

“Fair.”

A beep from the new male’s wrist had him checking the oddly shaped terminal, a groan of annoyance leaving his throat. “Alright, I need to head out again. New order.”

Bill rolled his eyes in sympathy, walking with Greg to the exit. “Never stops, does it?”

“I’m not that lucky.”

“I can only imagine. Thanks for giving me a hand with those and telling me about the skydeck. I don’t remember seeing that option, but I guess that means I need to look again.”

“Bah, it’s no problem. I like wandering around the place and meeting all the odd pairs. Oh, two things. First is that you submitted this order as recurring, but are you sure about the timeframe, or was it a mistake? I can correct it while I’m here if so.”

“Hm? No, that’s right. I don’t think we’ll go through it very often. Neither of us eat all that much.”

Greg accepted the reasoning, tapping his pockets to confirm that he had everything. “Fair enough. The second is that the organizers pushed a message to some accounts. I’m just passing along a reminder for you to check if you got one.”

“I will. Thanks.”

“All good. Take care…”

“Bill. Nice to meet you, Greg.”

The dark-skinned male smiled, giving a small nod to both of them. “You too Bill. Ma’am. You guys take it easy.”

Bill closed the door with a click after returning the farewell, finally turning his attention back to—then frowning at—the confusion on Sunundra’s face. “What’s up, Sunshine?”

Her ear flicked as she chose a concern to address. “Why did you claim the firecrackers to be of your materials? Will it not reflect poorly?”

The male scratched at his cheek, dropping his arm after a moment. “Well, yeah, but I’m Union—I’ll get a slap on the wrist. You? They might kick up a fuss and send you back, or even pressure your government to put you in prison or something. Any number of bad outcomes, really.”

Send her back? They would take her away from him? A sickening tug in her stomach went ignored. Such was hardly a concern when she was the one to bring contraband… “App—”

“—Nope,” he interrupted, holding up a paw haltingly. “None of that. You’re my friend. I’m going to go check my laptop, see if I can’t book us for the skydeck, then we’re being immature and setting off firecrackers.” He paused. “They’re smokeless, right?”

She nodded, unsure if everything should be dismissed so casually, but feeling thankful all the same. “They will be quite efficient. Smoke is minimal in my creations unless constraints or circumstances require it.”

“Good. Let’s do the boring stuff first.”

- - - - -

Unfortunately, Bill did receive a message, and it was yet another summons. The description was vague, but he surmised it as him needing to stay elsewhere for a while. They wished him to expand on his desires regarding the Union and their experiments with the procedure Sunundra had undertaken, among other things, which only fed the dense pit of fear that she was trying not to think about. The expected duration was somewhere between five and six times longer than the last absence, and although she was grateful he would do it for her sake, she still hated the idea of more suns without him near.

Quick to pick up on her mood, Bill ushered them to use their new creations for entertainment while insisting on excessive caution. She obliged, finding it much easier to keep a light heart when he seemed so excited to try something he had made, even if hiding behind the couch was a bit much for the microscopic payload.

The first test made a loud pop, but remained almost entirely smokeless as promised. The single wisp of fume dissipated quickly.

“Alright, six second fuse time,” he announced, taking two and lighting them with a small electronic starter she supplied from her possessions. The male hurried back to ‘shelter,’ peering over the edge of the backrest and encouraging her to join him in the countdown.

“Three. Two. One…” Elation rose within her.

“Boom!” The pops joined his exclamation, earning a giggle from the female when he playfully scowled at her negligence in following along to the end.

So they tried again, each small explosive being outmatched by the vigour and laughter that set her worries aside as she contributed to shouting the odd word. She was with him, and he was jubilant, so she was too. It was right for many reasons she couldn’t place, but nor did she wish to. There was too much to question already, and even one more would detract from how perfect it felt to be around someone else. A friend. Her friend. Bill.

Nothing would surpass how whole he made her feel.

Concerns lingered, though they could be addressed later. Her possible deportation, his summons, why she felt such strong urges around him, why she noticed regular variations in his scent, and why the other human smelled nothing like the one she had come to form a strange relationship with. None of them were spared thought as she enjoyed his company.

They set off to rest with reluctance, both knowing he would depart early in the sun for far longer than she wished to think about. It was a fitful sleep, but she managed, only yawning slightly as she joined him for an early meal and soaking in his scent for as long as possible. Every detail was etched into her soul.

The farewell was melancholy, but he offered a small smile, surprising her by pulling her close and holding her tight as he delivered good news. They were cleared for the skydeck once he returned, so she should look forward to seeing all that it had to offer with him. She promised that she would, wearing her warmest expression as he left, the exit barring her away from him.

She could be patient. She would wait. She had done so before.

Even if every moment away tore at her core, she would wait.

Even if suns stretched into meaningless wakefulness, she would wait.

Even when she had been told that he was never coming back, she waited.

Even as the Void came for her, she waited.

Even as nothing, she waited.