“SAVING... SAVED.”

The dwarf’s face fell sullen as he glanced at the holes. Warm air crept in from above. Nothingness perpetuated below. Close to nothing, the dwarf thought. The funguay he had condemned to his own former condemnation compelled him to feel he really had earned the latter. Despite what the dwarf assumed of Captain Locust and Doctor Mallow’s deal, regret bit at his dwarfen heart; rather that, his hand went to Waspig. Its locks caught the dwarf’s gruff but measured rhythm, and the beast let out a deep grunt.

“ANIMAL HUSBANDRY SKILL INCREASED TO 18”

He looked upon the rest of his flock housed in God’s walls: large, tall, thin Pistol, its sterilized scars glinting in moonlight, gnawed a pew. Wild haired Bathiel and Cath bounced at each other knocking into Pistol’s late dinner, a gesture it did not ignore and so entered the brawl. Even Waspig could not help but join as well. The dwarf could not claim to know well the difference in its species’ definition of play and fight; it bothered him. But he looked to Joshua, vigilant in the shadows, its eyes too on what the dwarf did then decide to be play--so long as Joshua, tuskless and of a color of the moon, agreed. As well as the latter could the dwarf see the massive neighboring blue planet beheld once before. The night gleamed especially clear, releasing its stars to the steeple to dance upon all present. Indeed the dwarf felt embarrassment of making a barn of His house. These thoughts multiplied at the sight of Blissey and Mustard--so similar to Waspig but undeniably smaller--chewing on the remains of the red carpet in shifts. This the dwarf did not hesitate to intervene, chastising the creatures and shooing them off towards the smoking dwarfen funguay busy on its pipe. He could hear its complaints begin to stream behind as he walked, but the dwarf continued his forward focus, stepping over the charred double doors and out into the crisp night. Light footsteps pattered behind. Expecting Funguayou, the dwarf turned with a dreadful expression only to meet Speedy, mud on its tracks. He softened and allowed it to accompany his walk.

Leaves rustled in fast bursts, warm air traveling on a warm night. Toads topped with ‘stools bounced around the dwarf’s path, Speedy’s sight soon transfixed. He nearly stopped it once the creature bounded off towards its prey; his stomach stayed his feet. Upon return with its trophy, the dwarf praised it greatly, wiping his hand on bark after. As they continued their walk, it was not long before another frog emerged. Speedy too was fast upon it. The dwarf, meanwhile, gazed in appreciation of the surprising clarity, stars and moon and single speckled planet all assisting to light. He could make out the fine stems of branches and nests. In the latter rested a mother, mushroom atop. He thought of Waspig.

“Where’ve you been?”

Having returned to the steeple, the dwarf--armed with bundle of twigs and handful of frogs--marched silently past Funguayou and the still playing hogsects to enter the dilapidated halls leading to the kitchen. Speedy bounced happily along his side all the while. Dust clung to near every corner of every hall, contents ranging from furniture in decay to burnt black floors and walls. Here, the dwarf could hear muffled play. He and the mudkip eventually found themselves before the cold stove. Opening and stuffing wood between coals, he produced Doctor Mallow’s flint striker and, within a few tries, brought about fire. Waspig wandered in during this process just as the dwarf needed it--tusks maneuvered as gently as the dwarf felt allowed, he dressed the frogs and set them into a dusty pan--capless.

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“SURVIVAL SKILL INCREASED TO 14”

“COOKING SKILL INCREASED TO 3”

It wasn’t long before the powerful aroma snuck out and down halls of great ruin, out into the steeple of three exits. Waspig and Speedy, fast made friends, were soon joined by Bathiel and Cath, Pistol and Blissey and Mustard and Funguayou. All were fed, but the dwarf, despite the contents in his stomach bringing bliss, felt a tightness pull at him. He took a few crisped legs and exited the bustling kitchen and down its adjacent halls to emerge into the nave of the church, its dark corners hiding from the stars that danced around. In these corners the dwarf found Joshua, a reluctant acceptant of the amphibious offering. But the pale hog relented, and the dwarf felt relief knowing his flock had been fully tended to--at least for one meal.

Insects driven into the cool church from the surprising heat of the night bothered the dwarf and his companions, Funguayou remarking how it’d love to take the flint to the entire lot. It was clear the ceiling and bare entrance were pressing issues to be solved, and it would take more than siccing Speedy on frogs to solve. But the dwarf recalled the dry wood stored outside--he did not use all to burn the double doors before. Back out into the night, he collected the sacks outside and wheelbarrowed them into His halls. There were logs aplenty, ready to be made planks of. But he did not have an ax. Despite the warmth, a chill crept up the dwarf--he did know of an ax. What he did not want to see was the corpse it belonged to.

And yet, the dwarf needed an ax.

His wits collected, the dwarf hobbled atop Waspig. Hooves on the edge, the dwarf peered into the vast tunnel of black he’d escaped from, never having imagined a willing return this lifetime or any subsequent. But the two descended. Flapping its wings slowly, they traveled through near abyss--near, for the dwarf held a fashioned together torch with grip caked in mud courtesy of his mudkip. The flame flickered for what seemed eternity, and it nearly went out just as the dwarf beheld a wooden handle submerged deep into the tunnel’s round walls, an unknowable depth further to where the end could be. The dwarf grabbed at the thing and pulled it loose from the earth, chunks breaking loose and falling to their demise. The dwarf listened carefully for a sound, and beheld none. Solemnity dominating the thin space, he chanced his voice and called for the fallen doctor. Whether or not it traveled, he did not know--no response returned, and the two waited an uncomfortable eternity. Scratching at Waspig’s cheeks and neck, the dwarf let fall the spent torch and pressed his beard into the fur of his creature, dark infinite. Several moments passed before the dwarf felt willing to retreat. But ultimately the two rose through the abyss until it gave way to familiar color, the steeple’s stained glass one of many beloved sights to return to as the dwarf dismounted and returned to the rest of his flock. He even mustered a smile at Funguayou, unsure if he meant it or simply felt happy to be out from the hole again.

“ANIMAL HUSBANDRY SKILL INCREASED TO 19”

Regardless of what he felt, the dwarf knew his next task with clarity. He approached the scavenged logs with ax in hand. The blade rose and fell, wood split in two. Replaced by another intact, the dwarf repeated the rhythmic process known since near birth, before beard replaced cheeks.

“CARPENTRY SKILL XP GAINED”

“CARPENTRY SKILL INCREASED TO 2”

It was only after a substantial pile had piled before the dwarf realized he’d no nails.