When Paul Manchester came to, he had the sneaking, nagging suspicion that he was going to be in a really bad mood that day.

Almost immediately, his intuition proved him right yet again- a splitting headache wracked his brain the very next instant, as though it had been waiting for him to regain consciousness to take full effect. Urgh, his whole body felt like it’d been through the wringer and then some- what had happened?

Cracking his eyes open, he winced at the rays of dappled light filtering in from above, piercing his poor head like needles. A thick canopy of luscious foliage stretched on and on high above, and Paul squinted, not entirely sure of what his eyes told him he was seeing.

He sat up to look around, as carefully as he could for the sake of the throbbing in his head, and Paul saw… a forest. Tall, imposing trees and foliage thrived around him, unconcerned for the man who’d found himself lost amidst their roots and bushes. Dangling vines and wide, odd, colorful flowers strung between branches in wild formations, unnerving Paul the more he looked around.

He was alone, in an alarmingly unfamiliar, untamed environment, racking his brain trying to remember how in the world he’d gotten there. It was Thursday, and he worked on Fridays, so it was the wrong schedule to have taken his kids on a camping trip if he’d somehow forgotten he was in the middle of one. He couldn’t have driven here, since he couldn’t see his car anywhere around, nor could this possibly have just been the ordinary city park forest decorated strangely- he couldn’t hear the city sounds in the distance, or see any buildings through the trees if he looked hard enough.

Paul grimaced, rubbing his head. The last thing he remembered, he was on the way to the store with Asher… but they must not have made it, because he couldn’t remember going inside. Asher was nowhere to be seen when he looked around, though- did Asher end up somewhere else, or had he been here with him before leaving to go looking for help?

The man’s face soured at the thought. If you’re lost in the wilderness, you’re never supposed to move somewhere else to find out where you are, you stay right where you are and wait for help to come to you, he knew. Paul's confusion bent into disappointment- of course Asher wouldn’t have listened to him when he’d told his kids what to do if they were lost in the wilderness. They hadn't listened time and time again when they’d gone camping before, much less now that they were actually lost for the first time.

There were no footprints or tracks around for Paul to follow, either, so staying where he was would be the responsible thing to do here, anyway. Stay here, wait for help to come, get their help to find out wherever Asher had wandered off to. Paul rolled his eyes- it'll be so inconvenient, for both him and his eventual rescuer, he could already imagine.

Paul opened his mouth, ready to call out for if there was anyone around who could help him, before he froze- there was a rustling in the bushes, just nearby.

Paul pulled himself up to stand, something small hitting the soil with a light thud at his feet. Paul didn’t dare tear his eyes away from the rustling bush, steeling himself for whatever encounter with wildlife he might be faced with. The largest threat he was likely to have to worry about were bears, depending on where this forest was in the United States, and he knew what to do in response. Standard bear safety: get as big and threatening as you can, back away slowly, don’t make any sudden movements-

The bushes parted. Split and pushed apart, by a pair of sharp, ruby red claws.

Poking its head out of the greenery, immediately catching sight of Paul where he stood… entered the snout of a short, white furred creature that couldn’t have stood much higher than Paul’s knee height. It wielded the aforementioned sharp, red claws with ease, and donned a tumble of spikier, haphazard fur over the top of its head down its back… the spikes front and center on its head in a fauxhawk colored gold instead of white, almost as though it were dyed in human fashion.

The creature’s clear, blue gaze met Paul’s- and its eyes widened. It opened its jagged mouth, the pair of fangs on its lower jaw glinting in the daylight…

And something in Paul clicked.

Monster.

The man let out a scream, falling backwards onto the ground again, his volume surprising both the creature and himself. He scrambled back on his rear over the soft-smelling grass, unable to tear his gaze away from those terrible blue eyes, eyes that widened at his sudden movements.

The creature opened its jaws to make some horrible sound, that Paul couldn’t hear over the blood pounding through his ears. Every thought, every fiber of his being was screaming at him to get away, get away, get away, a primal urge lancing through his veins like ice to run from the danger until it could never find him- and finally, his pathetic body actually listened.

Scrambling to his feet, Paul broke his gaze and turned, bolts of fear arcing up and down his body like an electric current as he dashed away into the forest- he needed to get away somewhere, anywhere. A voice called out from behind him, but he couldn’t bring himself to turn back or look. Not with that creature still there.

Paul tore through the woods, the brush and low hanging branches clawing at him as he made his mad dash to escape. He needed to find help, anyone who could tell him where he was, or take him home, or bring him to shelter or maybe lend him a satellite phone for him to let the office know he might not be around to come into work tomorrow morning.

It didn’t quite occur to him to pay attention to his surroundings until he felt a sudden rise and flip of his stomach- he’d tripped, crashing forward onto the ground the next instant.

Dazed and groaning, Paul craned his head to look back at what he’d tripped over. A pair of something… fuzzy? No, he was clearly too dizzy to know what he was seeing, so he blinked and rubbed his eyes before looking again.

Nope, they were still there. Despite his best efforts, he still did indeed see a pair of somethings on the ground just behind him, so foreign and odd that he couldn’t place what they were in that instant. He’d tripped over what appeared to be a ball of orange fur, and a little animal he might at first glance compare to a giant bee, of around the same size as the one next to it. The bee-looking thing righted itself first, a pair of tiny antennae on its head twitching as it looked towards Paul with large, black eyes attentively, fluttering three pairs of small, clear wings as it watched.

Paul’s face creased in confusion the longer he looked at it- the little thing looked more like a cartoon shape of a bee than anything he’d considered biologically capable of flight, but there it was, staring at him with its big old eyes. And was that a mouth there, flat on its face, instead of insect mandibles-?

But as puzzling as the first animal was, Paul nearly sputtered when the other thing he’d tripped over took the time to right itself, next. The orange ball of fuzz next to the odd bee was much less of a ball than he’d initially thought, as it turned out- its actual ‘upright’ position became much more apparent as a dark, curved spike rose into view, almost reminiscent of a shark fin where it remained at the top. Even stranger still, the ball turned around from there to reveal a face of some kind, clearly more mammalian than the bee next to it but still distinctly inhuman, like some sort of pale-faced orangutan squished down to the size and shape of a soccer ball.

It blinked a pair of large, red eyes wide up at Paul in startlement, before its face began to blubber up in tears. Still at a loss for words, Paul’s eyes flicked towards the big red welt on the orangutan ball’s forehead- and if this was a creature able to cry as a response to stimuli, it was likely to be aware of the bruise and to be crying because it was hurt.

Belatedly, Paul also noted that he felt a similar pain in his foot and knee upon tripping and hitting the ground- and making the connection that all three injuries could have spurred from the same moment, rather than the little creature already having it and only deciding to make a fuss about it now.

“Uh,” he managed out, struggling back up to his feet, looking back down to the two creatures he’d tripped over in a second wave of curiosity. What sort of little animals were they, exactly? Paul wasn’t strictly a biologist, but the little things almost looked more like stuffed animals he’d see in the window of some pawn shop, rather than living beings he’d find somewhere in a forest. A lot smaller than he realized, too, now that he was standing up- he could pick one up and hold it in both hands.

Not seeming comforted much by the impulse, the little orangutan ball burst into tears, wailing and bawling its eyes out. In an instant, Paul’s wonder and mystified confusion at the peculiar animals soured into irritation, resisting the urge to clap his hands over his ears. He at least had the sense to set the crying orange thing back down as quick as he could before he hastily withdrew, glaring down at them with much more vitriol to his gaze.

“Oh, keep it down-”

He was cut off as he heard bushes rustling from not too far away- the sound of something in the brush approaching quickly. The lance of fear shot through his chest as his heartbeat picked up, bending down to fiercely motion to the crying ball with a shushing sound. “Be quiet!”

The words didn’t seem to help much, the little noisemaker just crying and bawling all the harder. Ugh, was it doing it to spite him?

Paul hissed through his teeth, deciding to not take his chances with the strange little things, and stood back up to run, leaving them behind. With any luck, they might buy him some time by distracting the creature chasing after him.

He tore off through the brush once more, eyeing the woods around him nervously as he hurried away. The forest… was a lot less empty than he'd thought, now that he was looking- and full of creatures so much bigger than they had any right being, too. The outrageously colorful birds flying overhead larger than turkeys, the unnervingly puppy-sized insects skittering about, and even some of the foliage and flowers caught his eye, curling and unfurling stalks and wide petals in ways they only could have if they were alive and aware.

Paul shuddered, imagining shadows of creatures even larger than himself slinking through the dense forest- before feeling his heart almost stop in his chest, as he ran past a well and truly giant insect creature with a pair of scythes longer than his car for hands. Thankfully, it either didn’t seem to notice his glaring lack of subtlety or didn’t care, fearsome jaws locked around and gnawing on a particularly thick tree trunk, with an enormous drooling tongue licking up the sap voraciously. Paul clapped a hand to his chest over his heart to steady it, feeling a bit delirious from the sudden dizzying realization that he could be considered prey to predators as large as this.

A round of collective chitters sounded from somewhere close ahead as he sped onward, to which Paul had the sense to suck in a breath and duck. His momentum too great to keep from barreling forward, he narrowly avoided blowing right through a near cloud of hanging bagworms looking as sharp as a pinecone, each the size of his head. Paul groaned as he massaged at his forehead- he’d still clipped one of them hanging particularly low, but he wasn’t in any place to stop to check if it was bleeding. He needed to get out of there, and-

Paul stumbled through a thick curtain of brush and vine, shielding his eyes from the sudden bright, unfiltered light of day. He’d made it out of the woods- or at least, out into a clearing of some kind.

He stood there for a moment, steadying his breath and listening for the monster that had been chasing him… before an annoying giggle startled him out of his fear. A familiar one, at that.

He whipped his head back forward to look, astonished. Sitting on the clearing grass, not too far away from the treeline Paul had just broken through, was Asher.

He hadn't noticed him yet, seeming more occupied with a kickball on his lap.

Paul tread carefully forward, his steps brushing against the wildgrass as softly as could be. Asher seemed unconcerned where he was sitting, especially given he’d been laughing just a moment ago- hopefully he wasn’t doing anything he wasn’t supposed to, Paul thought to himself with a furrow of his brow. But after wandering away instead of staying put with him and waiting for help, and not seeming to care either about being lost in the woods either, it wasn't looking great for Asher's chances.

As Paul drew closer, however, he drew in a sharp breath, his train of thought sharply veering to the side. The ‘kickball’ Asher had on his lap was on FIRE.

“Asher, what the hell are you doing?!” Paul snapped, and Asher gave a guilty jolt at the sound of his voice right behind him- clearly, he knew he was doing something wrong and doing it anyway, again! He should know better than this, honestly. “Are you trying to burn down the whole forest? No playing with fire, what did I tell you!”

Asher couldn’t look up, couldn’t meet his eyes, squeezing the flaming kickball in his arms even tighter. He knew, he knew, he knew. The selfish, irresponsible brat.

And then there was movement in his arms.

“Asher, Asher? Who was that, let me see!”

A little voice came up from somewhere underneath Asher, from within the vice-tight grip of his arms. The boy seemed to look down at the sound in surprise for a short moment- before looking back up to meet Paul’s gaze with eyes alight with excitement, his fear all but forgotten.

“Oh yeah, Dad! Look, meet my new friend!” Asher blurted out, thrusting up his arms to show the kickball on fire in his hands to Paul more clearly.

Paul was faced with… something he didn't know where to even start describing. The thing in Asher’s hands took a spikier shape than a kickball should have been, like he’d thought before, though Asher didn’t seem to mind holding and gripping the little ball through the spikes around its surface. It blinked up at him with naught but a pair of small eyes and a wide smile, so simplistic and nearly seeming drawn-on that Paul could have mistaken it for a rubbery bouncy toy of some kind… if not for the tall, active flame burning an invisible wick on the top of its head. Its eyes seemed to get even wider, impossibly, as it took in the sight of Paul towering over it.

“Whoa, you’re big…” The weird candle ball gasped, looking up at the human in naked awe. “Hi, I’m Sunmon! Do you know Asher? I’m his partner!” The little fire burning on top of it seemed to glow a little brighter as it spoke- beaming in pride, Paul realized. Another one of those little ball creatures, Paul supposed, looking down at it in bafflement. This one seemed to be able to talk, more than just cry, though- and what had it just said about Asher?

“Sunmon- partner? What?” Paul sputtered out, fixing his gaze back on Asher. “Asher, put that thing out, you’re not supposed to be playing with fire. You could burn yourself.”

“Oh, actually-” Asher began, pulling the fiery blob back towards him- jutting his chin into the open flame.

Paul drew in a sharp breath, lunging for and snatching the creature out of Asher’s hands, though he startled and almost immediately dropped it when the thing let out a cry of surprise at the sudden motion. Paul's gaze darted around the area for something to put out the fire, since Asher clearly couldn’t handle being responsible for it, but everything around him looked all too flammable to him to work with. Not even shoving the lit flame into the dirt so as to smother it didn’t seem like an option, there being too much dry grass around to risk a disaster. Instead, he opted to hold the burning ball high in the air at arm's length- far out of reach of Asher or any flammable materials.

“Asher, what did I just TELL you!? You could burn yourself, and then next thing you go and stick your HEAD in the fire?” Paul scoffed, a short laugh of utter disbelief leaving his mouth without him meaning to. He could not believe the lack of self preservation, the impossibly poor judgment Asher had continued to demonstrate, in such a dangerous, precarious situation. No wonder he wandered off without telling Paul. “Unbelievable.”

Asher shook his head- even now, he wasn’t getting it.

“No, no, look, see? Sunmon didn’t burn me, the fire is fine. It’s only like, a baby fire.” He pointed to his chin and neck, where Paul had seen the fire licking at his skin and burning-

The skin was fine.

No charring, or searing, or… huh. Paul’s face creased in confusion, peering closer, then looking back up to the- the Sunmon toy ball thing, or whatever it was.

“Yeah, I’m careful with my fire! I would never hurt my partner, no way!” Sunmon cried in indignant agreement, before continuing on, sounding a bit more sullen. “I can’t really burn much of anything, anyway, even if I wanted to…”

“It’s all warm, and it tickles! And yeah, it doesn’t hurt at all, I was trying to show you.” Asher giggled, still sitting at Paul’s feet.

Paul rubbed at his temples with his empty hand, letting out a blustery sigh. “Don’t you dare do that again, though, you’re lucky you weren’t burned. You try that again with a different fire, and your face will catch fire and burn all the skin off of it, charred black.”

He shook his head, glaring down at Asher a bit for staunchly refusing to take the matter seriously. “And what do you mean, ‘partner’? Do you even- partners in what? You aren’t doing crimes, are you? How did you even become partners, anyway?” Paul asked, incredulous.

Asher blinked up at him, silent for a moment while he tried to think of some excuse, before coming up empty, shrugging.

“I don’t know. I just woke up, and Sunmon was there- and when they saw that I had this, they seemed really sure about it.” Asher dug through his shorts pocket, producing something white in his hand- something familiar.

It took a moment, but Paul recognized the same bulky white plastic and dark screen of an electronic device, one that Asher had picked up in a dingy alleyway Paul knew for certain was located back in the city he called home. Just beyond the wall of the electronics part store parking lot, to be more specific.

Upon seeing it this time, though, Paul eyed the harsh, visible crack in the frame, spanning from one jutting edge all the way through to the black surface surrounding the screen in the center. Even the polished blue inner ring wasn’t spared from the heavy blow it seemed to have taken.

An easy contempt rose up in Paul’s chest, and he reached out an expectant open palm to his son upon being presented the electronic. He didn’t need to say anything to communicate what Asher needed to do.

Of course, Asher shrank back, clutching it back to his chest. Disobeying. “No, I can’t, I-”

“Yes, you can. If you really aren’t addicted already, then you’d be just fine with giving it to me. You can use Time to play with it when we’re home, if you really want.” Paul scowled down, ready to reach for it himself if Asher wasn’t going to obey on his own.

“No, no- actually, I figured out what it was!” Asher fumbled with the electronic, looking closely down at it in his hands as he pressed buttons around the sides, before holding it up to show it to Paul once more. “It just tells time, look.”

Paul squinted his eyes to read the small screen… and it read the time on a digital typeface, an early 10:27 in the A.M. Asher’s face peeked around the odd electronic as he held it up, watching for Paul’s reaction. “It doesn’t have a wrist part, but I thought I could just keep it as a new watch… since I lost my last one, at least.”

Paul stood up straight, resisting the urge to let out a sigh. Asher did have a track record of getting yet another new bulky wristwatch for his birthday every year, that tended to last for about six months before he’d break it or lose it somehow. And if he wanted to use this new one for however long before it disappeared, then that was one less watch that he or Asher's mother would have to pay for.

Not that he was particularly concerned about the latter.

Tilting his head to peer closer at it again… it even sort of reminded Paul of an old black sport stopwatch that he’d used to have all the time back in college, too- one that also told the time, though the buttons around the edges of this one were much smaller, harder to see than his own used to be. After another moment of deliberation, Paul relented- counting digital watches as electronics was absurd, anyhow. If Asher really wanted to keep it, the reason wouldn’t be the games he could play on it while Paul wasn’t looking.

“Fine. Just be sure not to lose it or break it so soon, it’s already looking bad,” Paul conceded, wrinkling his nose at the ugly crack in the thing. Looking back up to his full hand, he suddenly remembered his other qualm with Asher’s whatabouts.

“Alright, watches are fine, but toys on fire are absolutely not.” He glared down in disbelief at Asher, still blown away by the sheer irresponsibility he seemed to hold. “How did you even light this thing on fire, anyway-”

His grip on the flaming orange in his hand had relaxed when he leaned down to look at Asher’s new watch- just long enough for the little thing to wriggle free, giggling as it floated gently through air out of Paul’s grasping reach.

“I’m not a toy…” It protested teasingly, before drifting down like a balloon into Asher’s open arms. The boy wrapped his arms around it and squeezed it close, a wide grin across his face to match the balloon’s own apparent delight. “I’m a Digimon!”

“…A what?” Paul looked between the two, his exasperation with them both coming to a head.

What in the world is a-? He cut his train of thought off, closing his eyes to clear his head. “Never mind. You can talk about what kind of toy you are once we make shelter and find some food. We’re lost in the wilderness, Asher, I expect you to be more responsible.”

To Paul’s relief, Asher finally nodded, seeming to listen to him for once. “Oh, yeah, Sunmon and I already found some that we could use. It’s over that way-”

“‘DERE ‘dey are!”

Asher pointed, but Paul turned to see a pair of figures emerge from the forest brush that same moment, in that very direction.

Stomping out of the bushes with a temper Paul felt the sudden impulse to roll his eyes at, came a couple of fellows that would've looked more in place at some sort of costume convention than out here in the wilderness. Half dressed in brown, crude leathers, and swinging unwieldy wooden clubs with nails and bolts screwed in, the two of them beat back the thick forest brush to break past the tree line. They stood a good feet or two shorter than Paul, with large eyes exaggerating their facial expressions, sharp fangs poking out of a thick jaw with a serious underbite, a fiery red mohawk of unkempt hair, and pierced pointed ears, with skin a deep green from head to toe.

Paul tried not to let his distaste show too plainly on his face- these two seemed every bit the ‘hooligan’ types that Paul wanted to keep Asher away from, else he might end up like the crowd his oldest had fallen into.

One of them scrunched up his face upon catching sight of Paul, though his expression resembled anger more than anything scary. He lifted up a meaty fist, pointing a clawed finger at Paul standing with Asher in the clearing.

“We’s were lookin’ for youse, and guess what- now we found ya’! You two gots a lot to answer for, y’know!” It growled out in a throaty, guttural voice, while its buddy next to it pounded one fist into his other with clear malintent.

Paul didn’t panic- he didn’t see the need to. Despite their heavy clubs and aggressive attitude, he still stood a good deal taller than both of them, even if they stood on each other’s shoulders. From his estimate, Paul could likely manage well if they tried to physically overpower him, especially if they only tried attacking him one at a time. Paul hadn’t checked his phone for any cell service yet, but if people were around this deep into the wilderness- even green, filthy punks like them- then he was probably close enough to some semblance of civilization to call the police on them, if they decided they wanted to follow through in causing trouble.

The man stood up straight, turning to address the two newcomers approaching them, wrinkling his nose in less hidden disgust and annoyance. He didn’t have time for this- they were supposed to be finding someplace to secure food and shelter, or a town or something if one was really nearby. No way these hooligans would want to help them with much of anything instead of causing trouble, that much was clear.

“Would you buzz off? We’re lost in the woods and having a bad day, and having a couple of hooligans bothering us is the last thing we need. Really not cool.” Paul spat, cutting at the young punks where he knew it’d hurt the most, so they’d leave them alone.

The green hooligan who’d pointed at them first seemed to hesitate, tilting his huge, slack jaw in confusion. The wide, strange eyes on his face blinked and narrowed at Paul, before jerking its head over to the side to elbow his buddy. “D’he say ‘buzz off’? Wuz’ts he thinks I am, some kinda Flymon?”

The other one snorted, elbowing him right back. “You knucklehead- he ain’t sayin’ we’s no stinkin’ bugs, he’s callin’ us chumps an’ tellin’ us ta skedaddle!”

Asher tugged at his side, but Paul barely paid him any mind, his attention still occupied with the pair of green-skinned punks approaching them. “Um, Dad-”

“Not right now, Asher,” Paul interrupted, waving him off as he dug his phone out of his pocket, since the strangers in front of them didn’t seem inclined to leave them alone. Turning on his phone, he paused when he had to squint at the screen for a moment, perplexed.

There was absolutely no cell service available, as expected… but what he did have, that he needed another good few seconds to look closer at the innocuous symbol in the corner of his phone, was a perfect wifi connection. Paul nearly sputtered- wifi, out here? In the wilderness? Where in the world were they?

Even moreso, when Paul unlocked his phone to investigate further, his face fell aghast- the text across his screen had been all but mutilated. Many of the letters and words were replaced by odd symbols and script, nearly rendering the whole darn thing illegible to his eyes. How hard did he drop it to break it like this? “What in the-”

“Ohhhh- they’s want us ta skedaddle, huh? Hehhehheh, why’s don’t we’s teach dese chumps a lesson and watch them’s doin’ the skedaddlin’!”

Paul looked back up from his phone, irritated at being interrupted, in time to catch the two hooligans trading nasty, fanged grins.

“Couldn’a said it better myself,” The second one chortled, hefting up his crude club over his left shoulder.

He reached back a meaty fist, as though winding up for a pitch- and something began to coalesce in his hand. Paul’s eyes flew open wide, as a mote of orange flame lit up in the hooligan’s open palm, whose grin stretched just a little more devious as he read the appalled shock plain over Paul’s rigid body. The punk tossed the fireball up into the air, swinging his club like a bat as it came back down, to send it rocketing through the air.

Paul didn’t know what to do, this shouldn’t have been possible. No way were these hooligans being safe and following forest safety rules, messing around with fire in the middle of the woods- but how was this happening, anyways? He stood stock still, so baffled by the firepower they seemed to wield so readily, that he didn’t even think to watch for where the mote of flame might be headed. He could only watch, as the fireball hit a speed that hurt to register with his eyes, sailing through the air-

“Goblin Strike!”

right

towards

Paul.

He could have dove out of the way, could have made any movement to avoid the oncoming fire, but he could only widen his eyes further in shock. It was too much, too quickly- no body parts, nothing of his that he could control, seemed to move quickly enough. Nothing.

“Paul, look out-!”

A high voice rang out, thundering through his ears as he stumbled in surprise, his sight still too hooked on the fireball heading his way to turn his head. His sheer, narrow tunnel vision flooded in a field of white, as something interposed itself in between Paul and the attack, forcing him to blink and readjust his eyes in turn. A white, furry little shape had leapt into the air, right in front of him- bringing down a deft pair of ruby claws to connect with the fireball hurtling toward him, dissipating the hot, angry mote shooting his way with a single strike.

The creature landed on the ground in front of Paul, facing the green punks who’d just tried to attack him. Though appearing quadrupedal at first, it reared up on its hind legs in a ready, active stance, looking a bit silly for something with such short stature.

The immediate danger had passed for Paul, yes- but a bolt of terror and familiarity lanced through him once his vision cleared, getting a better look at the creature in front of him. White and yellow fur and claws blood-red, it was the thing that had found him earlier, that he’d fled for his life to escape.

He wanted to stumble back, bolt from the clearing or just get away however he could, but his disobedient legs locked up. Even worse, to his horror, the creature turned its head back to look at him, rooting him to the spot with its terrible blue gaze.

The creature’s needle-sharp teeth flashed as its mouth moved. As panic-stricken and tense as he felt, Paul couldn’t possibly look away, his breath trapped in his throat.

“Paul, are you okay? You aren’t hurt, are you?”

It took one agonizingly slow, dreadful moment for Paul to realize that the soft, worried voice asking about his well-being had come from the savage maw of the creature standing before him.

He simply gaped his mouth in return. His throat was too dry to shout for help or maybe scare it away, if he could even think of something useful to say in the first place. The fear wracking his body had left him defenseless, vulnerable- paralyzed, was the word.

Thankfully, before the creature could snarl or perhaps lunge at him, the hooligans close by riled up at the intervention, drawing the creature’s attention instead. Paul was still a stiff breeze away from falling over onto his rear again from the shock, but he did feel his heartbeat relax just a touch once that awful, piercing gaze had been torn away from him.

“Hey, what’s da big idea, bud! We’s jus’ tryin’a teach dis fella some manners, ya hear?” One of the unfortunate hooligans protested, hefting up his club onto his shoulder. The other did the same, somehow lighting another ball of fire in his empty hand- both of them not seeming to realize the terrible danger they were in

The creature bared its claws, flaring them menacingly towards the angry punks in response.

“Hang on, it doesn't have to come to that, please! Maybe this is all just some kind of misunderstanding, can’t we just talk things out…?”

To their credit, the hooligans seemed unimpressed, elbowing one another and pointing with an accusing thumb or two at Paul.

“Talk things out, yeah- big guy o’er here seemed to understand pret-ty good what ‘e was in for, talkin’ da big talk to a pair a’ Goblimon enforcers doin’ their job!” The left one chortled, pointing at the white-furred terror with a single finger from a meaty fist. “You wanna get tangled up in dis too, shortie? Just ‘cuz ya never gave us trouble b’fore doesn’ mean you’ll get off scot free from dis, ya know… how’s about we rough up all four a’ da ya!” The one on the right slapped his own club into his open palm to emphasize his buddy’s threat, sporting a menacing grin.

The creature in between Paul and the punks bristled, its fur flaring up like horrible, dangerous spikes. It glanced back, sending a jolt of fear down Paul’s spine as it caught his eye.

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“Stay back, Paul, I- I can do this! Just leave it to me!”

Paul drew in another hitching, sharp breath as the bundle of white fur and claws sprang into motion- thankfully, mercifully, in the opposite direction than he was expecting. He took the miraculous stroke of luck as opportunity to stumble backward with what little mobility he could manage, distantly hearing a startled cry from the green fellow on the left as the creature launched itself at him. The sight would have been almost comedic, watching the hoodlum flounder around with its too-large, too-indiscriminate club in attempt to seize and remove the thing latched so tightly onto his face- that is, if the monster remaining within eyeshot wasn't enough for his body to seize up in terror.

His buddy seemed just as alarmed, immediately lunging to find some handhold to pry it off of the punk’s head, but yanked back his hands with a little yipe! The bristling fur on the creature’s back must have had a lot more substance to it than just for show.

Asher gasped out in surprise just behind the man, his voice so distant and out of Paul’s awareness he almost didn’t register anything had been said at all.

“Whoa- that little furry Digimon saved you, Dad, you almost got blasted by the Goblimon!” Asher exclaimed, before glancing down at the fiery blob held tight in his arms. “Hey, Sunmon, do you know who she is…?”

The little sun’s mouth opened to gasp wide, flame quivering as it watched. “Wait a second, yeah! That’s Herissmon, a… a mammal Digimon, I think? I don’t really know what that is, but that’s what she said when I asked. She was nice to me when I met her a few days ago, but now she’s taking on a couple of the strongest Goblimon around, too? Wow, she’s so brave!”

Wrenching his gaze away from the violent terror, Paul looked to Asher, his eyes filled with-

Paul had to stamp down the thought, the urgency meant he couldn't afford the wave of disgust that would come from acknowledging the awe in his son's eyes, watching that ‘Herissmon’ thing. Or… whatever it was. He would have to file it away for later, once the urgent danger had passed. They were in deep trouble no matter which side tore the other to pieces first- whether it was the punks bent on bothering them with clubs, or the awful beast that would surely turn on them next once it had finished off the hooligans.

“Asher, we need to go, right now.” Paul kept his voice firm and controlled as he could, struggling to emphasize his command over the terror roiling inside him.

The boy looked up, of all things seeming shocked by the idea. Like escaping from a savage, aggressive predator was something he’d never have considered in a hundred years.

“Wait, we’re not going to stay and help? Dad, that Digimon could get really hurt if we leave her to fight them off all by herself! It’s two against one!” He cried, in yet more backtalk. Paul grit his teeth in frustration, but there was no time to reprimand him.

“No, we’re not. We’re leaving, heading off to find the nearest town or place that has reception, and going home before anything else dangerous happens.” Paul put his foot down, already herding Asher away from the shouts and sounds of violence, risking a terror-driven glance behind him to gauge what he would have to prepare for in the next few moments.

Even through his spike of fear seeing the ‘Herissmon’ creature again, Paul could plainly see that the ‘scuffle’ between hoodlum and monster was painfully one-sided. For all its sinister claws and dangerous spikes over its back, the beast could only weakly beat and claw at the punk’s head to stay where it had latched onto. Its two opponents, on the other hand, had wisened up to the fact that they both had large, crude clubs to work with, whaling at the thing from either side.

Paul quickly looked away, internally reassuring himself that he’d watched for as long as he needed. Training his gaze forward in their path leading back into the forest to Lord knew where, he focused on moving and pulling Asher along further. Whatever he could do to distract himself from the image burned into his mind, of the creature dangling from the angry hooligan’s long face.

Paul hadn’t seen that piercing, bright blue when he looked, it struck him. Its eyes had been squeezed shut tight.

There was movement in Asher’s arms, rousing Paul from his thoughts.

“Asher, Asher- we should stay, right? We can help fight the Goblimon, too- I know it!” The little sun-ball’s eyes sparkled up with a resolve Paul could have hardly expected, its flame crackling with a ferocious intensity for its small size.

Paul’s brow furrowed as he glanced down at the little fiery blob- he did not appreciate it goading Asher on to disobey, especially when he’d just told him what they were going to do next. The boy in question, thankfully, had the sense to disagree, shrinking back and squeezing the sun-toy a bit tighter.

“I mean, I do feel like we could- and should, too, but…” Whatever Asher was going to say to finish his thought, he didn’t make it, finally clueing in that his dad was right and they had to keep moving.

It was thanks to times like these, that Paul knew Asher was capable of doing the right thing after all- he was a smart kid, for sure. If only he’d just use that common sense more often, then Paul wouldn’t think he was doing the wrong thing on purpose, now, would he.

The little sunspot held tight in Asher’s hands, on the other hand, seemed almost determined to disappoint Paul at every turn.

It had received very clear, very understandable instructions, and even gotten additional encouragement from Asher with it. The sun-like creature had every reason to follow along and stay put in the boy’s arms, if it wanted to stay with Asher- something it would surely do, if they really were as close as it had claimed. But instead, to Paul’s frustration and disbelief, it wriggled out of Asher’s arms, bouncing in floaty, determined arcs towards the scuffle Paul had set on leaving behind. Asher gasped out loud in turn, craning his head back to keep the little spitfire in his sights.

“Sunmon, wait-!” Paul’s grip failed him as Asher wrenched away, dashing after it. Disobeying.

Paul’s expression sharpened, turning to look back and opening his mouth to snap at Asher to STOP, before the creature clinging to the hooligan’s face caught in his sights again. His voice froze in his throat, his legs couldn’t move- he could only watch, as his son followed the flaming bouncy ball into certain danger, drawn in as though its flame were the glowing lure of an anglerfish.

Once it got close enough to the punk whacking at the Herissmon with its club, the little spitfire seemed to puff itself up and spit something out- or blow something out, rather? From out of its little simple mouth, came a few frothy, unimpressive bubbles glowing orange, spat out at the green goon on the left. Paul wasn't fooled by the sunspot's confidence that something was about to happen.

The bubbles at least seemed to carry the little slime’s intended momentum, as they hit the bare, green skin of the right punk’s shoulder. To Paul’s shock, though, he yelped- letting out a loud “YYYYOUCH!” as he grasped to cover the ‘wound’ with a big, meaty hand. The green hooligan whirled around, still clutching at his shoulder and giving a nasty, harrowing look down at Sunmon, expression already a foreboding sign of nothing good to come.

“Arright, dat’s it- I’ve had aboutta enuff’a youse, punk.” He growled, in that moment almost seeming as monstrous as anything else Paul might have encountered in these woods. “Ya never stop bein’ a real nuisance, huh? How’s about I knock ya into da stone ages, dat oughta teach ya alesson!” He hoisted a club into the air, ready to bring it smashing down onto the little Sun monster.

“No, no, Sunmon-!” Asher’s voice rang out in alarm, desperate and loud and clear as day.

Paul’s ever-vigilant ears, despite the terror threatening to overtake him, figuratively perked at the sound of a frantic, urgent beeping coming from his son’s side. Asher wasn’t allowed to have a phone, since he didn’t have a job to pay for one, so Paul’s thoughts turned instead to the odd, cracked watch he had picked up earlier. He must have set an alarm of some kind some time before, probably to check if the digital watch functions worked.

In that moment, though, a bright light flashed in the corner of his vision, drawing Paul’s gaze back in the direction of danger and monster.

He couldn't believe his eyes. The fiery little blob… Sunlon, or whatever it was, began to glow.

The luminescent, eyesearing yellow of the little thing’s flame overtook its form, and of all the oddest of things, a ring of sorts appeared spinning around it- something blue and impossible and inscribed with unknowable symbols. Even stranger still, the little sunny shape within it had begun to grow, too.

“Sunmon, digivolved to…!”

The Sunrom’s fiery, jelly-blob anatomy seemed to stretch and grow, fierce little paws and claws taking shape at the end of stubby little arms and legs as it must have grown twice its old size. A wiry, whip-thin tail lashed back and forth at the creature’s back, relishing its new flexibility while the tip smoldered in a gentle orb of flame, unbothered by the sharp new movement.

The little wick of flame at the top of the Sunlom’s form burnt down close to the head, sending a wave of flares down into a shape Paul could recognize despite the active change. Part of the creature’s new head seemed to take the shape of a roiling flame, yes, but others seemed to curl into more natural angles, looking not all too dissimilar from a the messy, wild hair he’d see on his own son sometimes- the kind of hair that always led to his ex-wife getting on his case about Asher needing a haircut.

The bolt-filled, dull wooden club came crashing down onto Asher’s self proclaimed ‘partner’, but it raised up its arms to cross its new wrists- catching the club itself, and with it, the impossible ring of blue and blinding glow of yellow were dispelled in an instant. Standing stout and clear as the summer sky, the orange blob in the vague shape of a sun had become an actual creature, now, though still little in stature. In the jelly's place stood a lion cub, upright on its hind legs, with fur the color of Suntom’s orange and a little tuft of yellow over its chest.

His wrists had locked together, catching the club on a pair of metallic bracers with a simple emblem engraved on the surface, tough enough to resist the heavy blow without cracking. Peeking over his crossed wrists at his opponent with a troublemaker’s grin, the Sunlion cub shoved forward with his wrists, pushing both the club and the green hooligan holding it back with a force that sent the sorry punk stumbling and tripping backwards. The fiery cub seemed all too delighted with its success, its smoldering tail lashing about- and the little headpiece, of the same shape and design as his wristguards, flared up out of the emblem’s center with a little lick of flame.

“…Coronamon!”

Paul could scarcely believe his eyes. How in the world did that little Sunlion thing get so… so, so much worse?

The lion cub creature thing had once again superseded any and all possible prediction Paul could have made- no doubt deliberately to win his son over and get him to do things he wasn’t supposed to do.

And by the look of wonderment on Asher’s face, it was working, too.

The green hooligan left standing managed to wrench the monster off of his face, jerking his scratched mug over to shout to his buddy.

“Arright, got’er right where I wan’er- ehh?” He blinked once, twice, and his jaw fell open, seeming almost as shocked as Paul was to see his buddy lying on the ground and Sunbomb having gotten bigger. “What intha- HEY, I didn’t say youse could do that! Lookit what ya did to my bro!” The hooligan tossed the white furred terror to the side with rough abandon, letting it tumble over itself multiple times before landing sprawled on its back, and the green punk ran to his buddy on the ground instead.

In a harrowing lapse of judgment, the orange lion-thing noticed the little monster, waving over to it to get its attention, to Paul’s utter disbelief. Didn’t he realize how clearly dangerous it was?

“Hey, Herissmon! Are you alright?” The Suntom called over, and the horrible beast stirred at his words, just as Paul feared. “Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this, now!” The little troublemaker swiveled his gaze back to the hooligans with a daring grin, punching his fists together. To Paul’s disdain, the orange flash of a few licks of flame scattered at the contact.

Despite Paul's wishing it would stay a pile of white fur and bloody claws, the Herissmon creature heaved itself back up, scrambling to its paws. It lunged towards the fiery cub, and Paul flinched, the motion sending his head reeling, but it miraculously didn’t seem to find purchase. It stood back up on its short hind quarters, seeming just a little taller than the Suncub, and faced back towards its original prey.

“It’s… it’s okay, I can still fight, too,” it rasped out, sounding almost agonizingly close to having been done in by those rude punks for good. “These are… Goblimon, in case you didn’t know. They’re Virus type, Earth attribute- and, well, they’re not too brave! They always act as a group, but fall apart if you get them alone, see?” It pointed a grisly claw towards its chosen prey, the green hooligan helping to stand his groaning buddy back up from where he’d been knocked clean onto the floor.

Mystified, Paul looked closer at the two punks without really meaning to. They sort of did look like goblins, now that he thought about it- green skin, hunched posture, crude weapons, they seemed to have a theme, now that he looked. Paul was glad he noticed, at least… maybe he could use that to scatter them or throw them off their trail, get them to leave him alone. But what did he know about goblins? Those weren’t real.

The sun cub seemed to come to the same realization the same time as Paul did, nodding once as he took in the sight. Paul couldn't help but wrinkle his nose at the notion that the little troublemaker was smart, too.

“Thanks, Herissmon! That’s good to know.” The cub turned his head back to look towards the man with a broad, ecstatic smile over his face, and his voice called out, young and loud and boisterous. “Let’s go, Asher! Are you with me?”

Too late, Paul realized, that the troublemaker was instead shouting to the young boy next to him.

Asher had been silent since the moment that orange friend of his changed shape, he hadn’t complained or pulled away once when Paul gripped his arm to carefully pull him away without any sudden movements- hoping to make their escape while the monsters were busy.

Asher’s primary concerns couldn’t be clearer, though. His mouth hung agape, eyes fixed to the scene even as he moved, unable to look away from an entirely different reason. The moment the sunlion thing called out to him, too, he punched a fist into the air, letting out a loud whoop that Paul had to clap a hand over his ear in reflex for.

“Yeah!! Coronamon, wow… you can do it, kick their butts!” Asher all but hollered back. Without Paul’s subtle grip guiding him in the right direction, Asher stepped back towards the dangerous monsters, even breaking out into a run to get closer faster.

Paul grinded his teeth to hold in a shout of frustration- why did Paul let go of him, he should have known this would happen. Where in the world was this boy’s common sense!?

“You got it, Asher!” The little firestarter gave a few little bounces on his heels, thrashing its flaming tail back and forth in wild, dangerous arcs. He whirled back to the goblins, setting his sights on the one still struggling to get his disoriented ally back steady on his feet in particular. He balled his little lion cub paws into fists, and dashed forward on two speedy feet, rushing the hooligans before they could recover. Bounding forward, the troublemaker-

Asher drew in a sudden, sharp breath, calling out with all the might his little voice could muster.

“Corona Knuckle!”

-pounded his fists together to light them aflame, driving one flaming knuckle into the thuggish jaw of the hooligan still on his feet. The poor sap yelped, clapping a meaty hand to what had to be a nasty burn mark on the side of his face- and before he could so much as growl a response, the other fiery fist came crashing into the goblin guy’s exposed stomach.

Paul did a double take, still frozen to the spot as Asher skidded to a stop closer to the danger. How could he think it was a good idea to shout something with the monster so close, poised to attack? And what had he even meant, anyway- a what knuckle?

The man flinched as a flash of white lunged in his periphery, after Asher had just so callously gotten its attention with his shouting nonsense- but thankfully, it didn’t seem to pay him much mind. Asher had been awfully lucky that the monster seemed so set on its original target, instead of taking advantage of Asher’s mistakes where the opportunity arose…

The creature had curled up into a ball, appearing almost upsettingly inoffensive and even innocent in spite of the horrors Paul knew it hid within, before spinning fast enough in place, catching on a stray root in the soil to rocket itself forward. It bounded into the air and slammed into the same punk’s jaw as before from the other direction, the poor guy now seeming in just as bad shape as his buddy. The monster tumbled away from the goblin’s face, withdrawing quickly- the blow admittedly didn’t look to have done much more than daze the fella, to Paul’s incredulity, but that was secondary to the real intent of the attack. Thanks to Somebon knocking the wind out of him just the moment earlier, the monster’s glancing blow struck just hard enough to send the unlucky hooligan crumpling forward to the ground, groaning in exhaustion.

The other punk let out a startled grunt, having just managed to find his footing again thanks to his buddy, and turned his sights on the miserable little creature that’d downed him. The goblin snorted out a hot breath, raising his club up high, and Paul’s eyes shot to the white-furred monster left vulnerable in the punk’s sights. His heart hammered, as he watched with bated breath- would it really happen? Would the goblin really finish the horrible thing off once and for all?

“Oh no, look out-! Corona Flame!”

Paul grimaced. That was Asher shouting again, thankfully not right into his ear. Giving him a brief look, Paul let out a sigh, irritated by the opportunity surely lost to Asher’s carelessness.

“On it!” The other wild card Paul had to remind himself to keep an eye on had his paws to his temples, bright light dancing between them as something on his forehead that Paul couldn’t see began to glow. His face soured into a glare, though, once he recognized the tongues of flame licking off the ball of fiery light growing and settling between Sumpon’s paws, though thankfully no larger than a grapefruit. Winding back his arms, the little troublemaker hurled the ball of fire at the goblin with both paws as hard as he could. “Ohhh, no you don’t!”

The hooligan swiveled his head at the words to look, his nasty sneer dropping into a face of bewilderment. Twisting his whole body to lean away from the fireball’s projected trajectory, Paul couldn't help but scrunch his face up in confusion at the strange, even silly stance he ended up in- that albeit did seem to work, the fireball whizzing past harmlessly.

“H… heh, you missed, chump!” The green hooligan taunted, puffing out a breath as his body settled back down- before giving a jump, suddenly spotting golden orange flame gnawing at the tip of his crude wooden club.

The poor sap howled- albeit sounding more panicked, rather than pain. He stumbled around on his feet as though stepping on hot coals, beating the air and smacking the ground with his club in horrible lack of regard for fire safety, trying to put out the fire as Paul looked on in disapproval. “Muh… not mah fav’rite club, no, nooo…! Not againnn…”

Submon blinked, watching the goblin frantically scuffle about for a brief moment with his head tilted just to the side, before he wrenched his attention back to the far greater threat at hand.

“Phew, you alright, Herissmon? That was a close one!” The fiery cub called out, clearly not nearly as smart as Paul thought he was, to be drawing the vicious monster’s attention so brazenly. Naturally, the predator turned its icy blue gaze back to him, scrabbling its claws on the ground to find its footing and pounce, taking advantage of such a clumsy mistake.

“I’m okay, I’m okay- thanks for the save,” its monstrous fangs flashed, blood red claws itching to find purchase on skin of any kind and tear open wound after savage wound. It edged closer to the foolish cub in a burst of speed, having the wherewithal to skid to a stop at the very last moment before the cub might have a chance to launch some fiery counterattack and finish it off. Snarling like a wounded animal, it gripped one of its sides with a paw- clearly in no place to take the troublemaker cub in a straight fight. “You want to get this last hit in? I’m, er, not really feeling at my best, and he’s got the type advantage on me- but I can cover you where you need.”

In only the briefest of glances he could afford, Paul could have sworn he noticed Asher mouthing the words ‘type advantage’ to himself.

The little lion’s muzzle broke into a wide smile, his paw shaping into a big thumbs up- offered to the miserable, savage creature, if such a thing could be believed.

“Thanks, Herissmon! Alright, on my count of three, we rush ‘im- you get ready too, Asher!” He called back, offering a thumbs up to him, too- of which Asher responded back with a wordless thumbs up of his own, giddy smile wide on his face.

“One…”

The two odd creatures crouched, ready to spring as the howling hooligan drew back around closer, still rather occupied with trying to put out his flaming club. Belatedly, it struck Paul to wonder how the goblins had been able to hit their own balls of fire with their clubs, if they set fire to the lion cub’s stray attack so easily. Maybe there were different kinds of chemicals fueling their different fires? But the colors of their different flames didn’t look that different, so it wasn’t likely he’d be able to pin it down without further study…

Paul shook his head to clear it. Why was he even entertaining the idea, neither of these things were supposed to be possible in the first place. Not to mention, what a fire hazard it was to be flinging fireballs around in the woods all carelessly like this.

“TwothreeGO!” The orange firecub rushed out the last numbers as the punk drew near again and sprang forward, his fists-

“Corona Knuckle!” Asher was quick on the draw to shout, once again.

-igniting into a pair of fierce flames once more to sock the other goblin first in the jaw, then in the torso to send him stumbling back…

…just far enough to lose his footing when a blur of white and yellow fur swept beneath his feet to trip him.

The goblin fell backwards, landing with a grunt across the top of his downed buddy in a rather pathetic pile.

The bout was decided- and the two punks knew they’d lost, it was clear.

“You DID IT!!” The little fiery lion didn’t get much of a chance to celebrate on his own before Asher ran to tackle him from behind in a hug, squeezing tight and bouncing on his heels. “That was so COOL! How’d you get bigger and stuff, huh? You said Coronamon, did you evolve from Sunmon like a Pokemon? Are you like a Litleo, can you evolve into a Pyroar or something, like get even bigger if I find you a Fire Stone or something like that? Litleos don’t need one of those to evolve, they just need to get stronger, but some other fire types do,” Asher chattered on, while Paul struggled to keep his balance- he still couldn’t bring himself to take a single step closer, not with the beast still so close.

The little spitfire seemed to have lost all his sense of self preservation, too, not even pushing Asher away from the lingering danger like he should have done, if they were ‘partners’ like the two of them had claimed.

“Not a pokey-mon, I’m a Digimon, silly!” He laughed, turning himself around in Asher’s hug to return it, fiery tail lightly whipping in the flippant fire hazard Paul was so annoyed by. “But you’re right, I digivolved from Sunmon- and now I’m Coronamon! I’ll make sure to keep you safe, Asher, you can count on me! I’m, uh, not sure what a Little Lee-ohs is, but I’ll beat up any that try to get us!”

“Nono, it’s called ‘Litleo’, like- aww man, I don’t have any cards on me to show you what they look like… maybe I could try and draw one, or- oh!” Asher interrupted himself when he happened to glance over the cub’s shoulder, catching sight of the creature Paul had so desperately wanted them to escape from.

It hoisted itself up off the ground, brushing soil off its matted pelt with chilling, bloody claws. Its predator’s gaze snapped to Asher as he waved to the monster, releasing the hug but keeping still one of the lion’s orange paws held in his hand. “Herissmon, are you okay? You looked really hurt there, before Coronamon and I came to back you up…”

The creature gave itself a beastly shake, standing back up on its own hind legs, and brandished one paw full of dangerous claws at the two of them in a threatening motion that Paul drew in a sharp breath at.

“Y-yeah, thanks so much for the help, I was in a really tight spot there.” It let out a monstrous breath in between words, fixing its cruel gaze on the prey before it. “It’s, um, nice to meet you! What are your names?”

“You’re welcome- and oh, yeah, sorry! I’m Asher, and this is my partner, Coronamon.” Asher swung the paw he held back and forth and jabbered away like he was talking with a schoolmate rather than a wild creature who could spell his end in an instant. He took the creature’s paw full of claws with his free hand to shake up and down, too, before Paul had the chance to hiss out a warning to stop him. “You really saved my dad back there, too, so I think we’re even! He would’ve taken a Goblimon fireball to the face if it weren’t for you, which would’ve really hurt since he’s not a Digimon and everything.”

The beast’s eyes flicked over to catch Paul in that icy blue gaze for a petrifying, tense moment, and he froze in his tracks in response. His half-baked plan to sneak closer, grab Asher, and make a break for it before it could notice and give chase crumbled before his very eyes, stuck like a deer in the headlights. The white creature opened its fearsome jaws, fangs glinting like knives in the morning forest light, ready to tear and rend his flesh where he stood-

Before a stirring and throaty groaning just nearby drew both their attention.

The goblin-ish punks were all but struggling to pick themselves up, trying in vain to reassert themselves as intimidating forces to be reckoned with. They didn’t succeed very well, especially when the one on top’s arms gave out and lost their hold on the ground, collapsing over the other and sending him to the ground, too.

“You chumps ain’t seen da last’a us, you betta believe!” The one on the bottom glowered up at Paul with a nasty sneer on his ugly mug, seeming determined to try and save face despite their clear humiliation. “When we tell da Boss youse been tryin’a sneak inta our farms and steal our food, you’ll be REAL in for it den, punks!”

Paul simply blinked back, uncomprehending. He hadn’t seen any farms or food dashing through the woods, much less steal from them. Naturally, he looked down to the only one here who had even a chance of giving him a clear answer- a small chance, albeit, but still better than nothing.

“Asher, do you know what they’re talking about?” He balked, once again watching his son's face closely to discern why he didn't seem nearly as alarmed or concerned as Paul felt.

Asher looked up- he was listening, at least. “Yeah, I was trying to tell you earlier. Coronamon and I were looking for food in the woods a little while ago, and he led me to this big barn just outside the woods that had so much food inside, but then the Goblimon started chasing us and we had to run away-”

Paul’s eyes narrowed, his expression sharpening the instant clarity struck.

“Asher.” The trouble in his voice was gone, turning pointed as his posture imperceptibly shifted higher. “Are these goblin people upset because you tried to steal their food?”

His son didn’t speak right away, but the answer still came immediately. Asher shrank back at the simple question, so clearly, obviously guilty. And he knew it.

“Um, yeah, we did? I was getting hungry, and Coronamon told me where we could find some, so we-”

There it was. “No, Asher, you’re not supposed to do that,” Paul snapped, cutting him off before he could disappoint him further with excuses. “Remember? We ask first, we don’t steal. That is not cool.” Paul gave a snort of disbelief and shook his head, appalled by the audacity. “Unbelievable.”

Asher’s head hung low, his chin about pressed to his chest, while his hands dug deep into his pockets. One of them shifted visibly in his pair of cargo shorts, as though his hand were clenching and unclenching around something. Guilty.

“…Sorry,” came the mumbled apology.

Paul nodded, glad that Asher at least had the sense to be sorry. If he didn’t, Paul might have needed to take whatever he was distracted by in his pocket.

“Good. Now, go apologize to them.” Paul pointed to the goblin punks still on the ground nearby, his voice firm and expectant. His eyes shifted to the orange troublemaker to Asher’s right, his hard expression remaining the same. “You apologize, too, now.”

Blessedly, Asher didn’t argue, looking to the two punks on the ground and beginning to trudge over, head still hanging in guilt for having been caught. The little spitfire next to him, on the other hand, didn’t move, scrunching up his face to meet Paul’s stern expression with defiant gray eyes and mouth open to protest. But something tugged at his paw, and the cub turned his head to look- Asher was looking back at him, lifting his free hand to point in the direction they were supposed to go.

The fiery cub watched his ‘partner’s’ face for a long moment, lashing his dangerous tail back and forth, before relenting. The fight leaving his body almost seemed to make him deflate, letting Asher walk him to the goblins they’d just trounced with his own head turned low.

It was good to know, Paul noted, that despite his bad influence on Asher, the little Sumton- er, Shenlon, or whatever he was- seemed to listen to Asher, at least. Good to have in his back pocket for how to get the little lion cub to listen to him, that is.

Both kid and cub reluctantly shuffled their way up to the goblin pair left worse for wear, arms straight down their sides as they bowed their heads in apology together.

“Um… we’re sorry for trying to take some of your food. We were hungry, and I didn’t know it belonged to you.” Asher began, respectfully bowing his head low.

“We’re also sorry for beating you up, too,” The spitfire piped up next, prompting a glaringly inappropriate giggle from Asher when he was clearly supposed to be sorry, that Paul gave a stern glance to. “We didn’t want to fight you! But at that point we were really just defending ourselves, since you chased us down after we ran away. And you dragged poor Herissmon into fighting, too- she was just trying to help!” He continued, folding his arms.

This was getting out of control. The Sumnon was immaturely talking down to the people he’d wronged, Asher was laughing, and the expressions on the goblins’ faces looked more baffled than anything, clearly thrown off by the mixed, ingenuine apology. Paul had to act quickly, before things got worse.

He stepped behind the kids as quickly and softly as possible, showing as many signs of being the responsible adult in the room as he could to further support his credibility- one hand on the lion cub’s odd shoulder, and his other lightly, easily wrapping around the back of Asher’s neck, giving its sides a gentle squeeze.

Asher went quiet with a quick breath, seeming to understand that Paul was about to speak. Paul felt thankful that Asher knew when to let his dad do the talking.

“My son and his, ah-” Paul stuttered for a brief moment, not wanting to repeat the word he’d been given, but conceded when he couldn’t come up with a substitute he liked. “-and his ‘partner’ are apologizing for trying to steal food from your farm earlier, they know it was wrong and won’t do it again.” Paul gave Asher another light, imperceptible squeeze to the same spot with his hand in emphasis, and Asher stiffened, nodding demurely in agreement.

Paul nodded in turn, content to leave it at that, before he caught up to his own words and realized the opportunity in front of him. “Actually, if it happens to be nearby, we’d like to ask if there’s anything we could do for you or your, uh, Goblin… Mon? Associates, in exchange for food or shelter. We’re lost, and need to find some before night falls- no stealing necessary.”

Asher had dutifully remained quiet while Paul spoke, gaze still averted, but he mumbled out a quiet, “Goblimon,” once Paul had finished.

The… Goblimon, Paul supposed, blinked up at them from where they’d fallen, still splayed on the ground. Turning to look at each other with matching bewildered faces, neither of them spoke for a long moment, before the one underneath broke the silence.

“Dey’re… apologizin’? Did I hear dat right?”

“Nah, I heard dat too, yeah- huh.” The other replied, scratching at the forehead in between their wide eyes and red mohawk. “I’m startn’a think they might not be da invasion da Boss was worryin’ about if dey’re, uh, willin’ to reason with us.”

There came a pause, and then the Goblimon reached up a hand by his big mouth to whisper to the other, almost comically loudly for an attempt at secrecy. “Uh, bro, what should we do?”

“I’unno, I didn’t think of anything ahead a’ time…” The other Goblimon whispered back, keeping their discussion private just as badly. “Think da Boss would know, or…?”

Paul watched the two Goblimon, waiting as they traded confused shrugs and furtive glances mulling it over, before looking back up to Paul. The lower one decided to roll the other Goblimon off of him and stand up before speaking, letting the other hit the ground with a comical grunt.

“So, uh, we have food and shelter back at da Goblimon Village, like you’re askin’- but I don’t think we really know how to arrange dat kinda deal?” The first Goblimon explained, reaching down to help his buddy to his feet, who in turn bent down to reach for both their crude clubs that’d been knocked away. “Dere’s always work ta be done, but I don’t really think I can make any promises without gettin’ da Boss ta weigh in, first. Best we could do is take ya to ‘im, and youse guys could try ’n work somethin’ out with ‘im there? If he ain’t in a bad mood, that is…”

Paul tensed upon seeing the other Goblimon return with both of their crude clubs, but when the first one took his own back, he simply raised it to casually rest on his shoulder without a hint of aggression.

“Yeah. Yes, sounds good, thanks.” Paul shut his eyes in silent exasperation, finally relieved to have a clear answer as to where they needed to go next. “Lead the way, let’s go talk to your ‘boss’, then. Asher, come on-”

A tug came on the back of Paul’s ruffled, untucked shirt, and upon looking back sharply to see, he froze in his tracks. The terror he’d forgotten when taking the time to rebuke Asher for his wrongdoing came rushing back in full force, Paul realizing the horrible white creature was upon him, had its claws in him, deadly glinting jaws opening wide to rend his flesh apart where he stood-

“Um, hi! I didn’t really have a chance to introduce myself yet, my name’s Herissmon. I’m really sorry for scaring you earlier, I didn’t mean to…”

The monster miraculously let go of his shirt and withdrew its blood-red claws without tearing through his skin, pulling back both pairs of its terrible claws close to its chest. “You just, er, dropped something, way back there where I first saw you, and I tried to hurry after you as fast as I could to give it back.”

Paul drew a deep breath in. The mention of an intent of some kind felt like a breath of fresh air, grounding him enough to keep him from bolting outright. So the monster had reason for following him after all, something he could understand rather than the wild impulses of a vicious predator- meaning that once it was resolved, the creature could then leave, its business taken care of.

“I would have caught up to you faster, but there was a Tsunomon crying along the way, and it took me a little while to calm them down and send them home…” The creature- the Herissmon murmured to itself, digging one of its paws around into the spiky, tumbling mane of fur and quills until it perked up.

“Right, here it is! You dropped this- and, um, I made sure to clean it as best as I could, too.” Out of Herissmon’s white, terrible mane came its deadly, blood-red claws flashing into view, holding up to Paul the prize it claimed.

Despite the fear clenching his body tight at the predator’s mere presence, Paul had to lean forward and peer closer, not quite sure as to what he was looking at.

Held delicately around Herissmon’s claws lay an odd electronic of some kind. Lumpy and light blue around the outside, with a set of grippable indents around the edges and a bulky little antennae poking out of one corner. The device carried a charming air that Paul recognized from those kinds of ‘retro’ electronics, whether they were the kinds made back in the ‘90s themselves, or the ones that simply referenced them for that extra nostalgia factor. A blank square screen sat in the center, colored the same sea-gray as those old handhelds Paul had to confiscate from his kids when they’d snuck playing video games without asking, the ones too old to have a screen that lit up by itself.

Such an odd, striking shape, Paul noted- sort of like the little device Asher had claimed as a digital watch earlier. Paul didn’t need a digital watch, he already had his phone to tell the time, but Paul carefully picked the electronic out of Herissmon’s claws, if only to hurry things along and get going sooner.

“Okay. Thank you, then,” Paul answered, carefully picking the odd device out of the Herissmon’s terrible grasp, trying to avoid touching any of its savage claws as best as he could. For a moment he worried the claws would snap closed, like the jaws of a deadly trap spelling his end- but he yanked his hand away too quickly to be caught, free from the danger in an instant, and let out a breath of relief through his nostrils.

The screen lit up in Paul’s peripheral vision once the device was safely in his hand, but he stuffed it in his back pocket, opting to rather keep his eyes on the more pressing threat at hand. He’d have plenty of room to check the time later once he’d gotten away from this Herissmon beast, anyhow.

“Alright, if that’s all.” Paul righted himself, turning away from the creature in a miraculous measure of self composure, his neutral expression giving more credibility to the normal pace he took as he walked away. Asher and his new friend were already a little ways off, since they hadn’t stopped or waited for Paul to finish his business to follow the Goblimon back to their village- but Paul didn’t dare break into a run, carefully walking at reasonable pace to avoid potentially triggering any predator chase instincts Herissmon still may have had.

He nearly let out a breath of relief, thinking he was in the clear, before he heard the padding of pawsteps behind him as he walked.

Whirling around and half expecting a face full of bloody claws and horrid fangs as the creature pounced the moment he let his guard down, Paul turned sharply to stare hard at the beast behind him, its piercing blue eyes deep and wide on its face.

“What are- why are you following me.” Paul asked, swallowing hard to keep the strangle out of his voice.

It opened its mouth for a silent moment that seemed to stretch on for hours, Herissmon clearly bent on intimidating Paul with its dangerous fangs.

“Oh, I, er…” Its icy blue eyes darted around to take scope of the area, hind claws twitching and ready to pounce. “I’m, uh, just making sure the Goblimon aren’t leading you into a trap or anything. If the Goblimon were to all gang up on you humans and Coronamon while you’re left to fend for yourselves, that’d be really bad news.”

Paul had needed to avert his gaze not long after he’d asked, hating how much sense the Herissmon was making. He could handle Asher’s friend being smart, but this little predator being smart, too… no doubt it’d spell the death of them both, if he let his guard down.

And now those blue eyes were on him again, he could feel it.

He nodded absently, and instead of dignifying the creature and its frustratingly sensible explanation with a response, he turned to walk at a more brisk pace in the direction he last saw his son heading, still having a ways to catch up.

Paul shut his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose, trying desperately through his fear to ignore the sound of pawsteps that started back up again, a little faster now as Herissmon tried to keep up with his pace.

Paul could only pray he’d be rid of the little monster soon.