Clare may have gone into more detail then strictly necessary—as stories go, Beowulf’s was an excellent one, and Kepler was very appreciative. He also had a lot of questions, even after the tale was finished.

[But, why did they keep partying every night? Didn’t Grendel bursting in and murdering people stop them? It would have stopped me—at least until we’d stopped Grendel in turn.]

They were Norse.

[So?]

Nothing comes between a Norse man and his drunken parties. It’s a lifestyle thing.

[That…] Kepler mumbled to himself for a bit, trying to sort through the idea. [Is extremely illogical.]

She shrugged. I mean, they killed Grendel eventually.

[In the most impractical way they could think of! Who decides to wrestle an enormous, murderous giant, when you have a perfectly good sword?]

It was pretty badass, though?

Kepler huffed, grumbling to himself unhappily for another five minutes or so. Clare waited quietly. There was no need to rush.

A case of content theft: this narrative is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

[Then,] he finally got over it, returning to their original subject, [Do you wish to create Grendel’s mother?]

Well, she does live in an underwater cave. And the story never goes into detail about their species, other than that they were big and roughly human-shaped. Gives us a lot of leeway, in terms of design, at least.

[Is it wise though? She’s a formidable villain.]

Isn’t that a matter of perspective? Burial rites were a big deal in Nordic—hell, in all cultures of the era—so recovering his arm would have been important to her.

Clare dimpled her aura in a smile. Damn, she loved moral complexity in a story. There was a reason Beowulf’s was a classic.

Besides, no matter the context, Grendel was her son. Is it so bad to exact a little vengeance?

[Hm. Not a villain, but a dutiful mother? Interesting. I think I could craft a soul based on that. But what about the physical design?]

It was a good question. While Clare now had individual tissues to (probably) build with, using materials from a worm, beetle, and microbe-goo to create something humanoid was… challenging, to say the least.

I’ll give it a shot.

[Good. I think I can figure my side out before long. I can’t experiment much beforehand, anyway.]

Okay. Clare wrinkled her aura anxiously. Heavens, she missed her body, missed human expression.

Kepler wagged his tail, [I’ll come help you once I’m done.]

What a good boy. She reached mentally to give him a mocking head pat, Who’s a good boy? You are—

[Clare. Do you want my help or not?]

She chuckled. Thanks for being here, Kepler. I think I’d go mad on my own.

[Well,] he mumbled to himself, ears at an uncertain angle, [Obviously…]

Her aura wobbled with more laughter, driving an embarrassed Kepler back to his work. After a moment, she followed suit.

Cave monsters don’t design themselves.