Pug and Tourmaline hastened down shadowed paths in companionable, if somewhat tense, silence. The news about Jet had come as something of a mixed blessing. Finding out he was alive and not wasting away in a beast’s stomach brought no small measure of relief, however with it came a tide of confusion. What could humans want with him, why would they take him? Worse, it seems like they’d only have one chance to catch up with them. A fortnight to reach Hummingbird’s Hearth was cutting it close by any stretch of the imagination. Something more weighed on Pug’s mind however, prompting him to gnaw on his lip and issue deep sighs periodically.

“Alright, out with it then!” She snapped, elbowing Pug. To his credit Pug looked suitably abashed, though he still tried to hide his worries.

“Out with what? There’s nothing to be out about.” He said quickly.

“I know you're worried, and I know you’re trying to save me some suffering but watching you mope like you are is honestly worse than just about anything you could tell me.”

Pug gnawed at his bottom lip for a few moments, lost in thought. His eyes flicked up into the trees above and then down, skimming her face before swinging to look out into the trees behind her. Tourmaline sighed, well used to Pug’s particular idiosyncrasies but losing patience all the same. Her internal pressure was at its peak, and she had just opened her mouth to harangue him further when he finally spoke.

“The thing is, I’ve never seen that happen to Baba before.” He said it so softly she barely heard him, his face averted as though he was nervous to meet her faze.

“Seen what happen?” Tourmaline said, confused.

“I’ve never seen a spell of hers fail like that, never seen her thwarted.” Pug said, mulling over this oddity. “And I’ve seen her work many magics.”

“Well, she looks like she’s getting pretty old.” Tourmaline replied, her tone one of idle curiosity. “How long has she been around?”

“As long as I can remember.” Pug said with a shrug. “The cabin on the stream has always been there, and always been hers.”

“There, nothing to worry about then. You know the mortal races don’t live long, she’s probably just showing her age.” Tourmaline explained gently.

“I’m not sure Baba would ever let something like time slow her down.” Pug said with a wry grin, though he looked more calm now. Tourmaline deftly hid the worry she felt, a coldly burning little nugget resting in her chest. Pug being unsettled over the matter was enough to make her wary, however she was also relatively sure Baba wasn’t human. After all, no human she’d heard of, over the course of her studies on various and niche topics, could outlive a fairy’s memory.

They lapsed back into silence and, despite the worry she nurtured, this one was more amiable than the previous. More relaxed now than the last time she had passed through, Tourmaline saw an abundance of interesting flora in the environment around them, repeatedly breaking from the path to grab samples where she could. Her short little legs and dense frame meant she soon exhausted herself by scurrying through the underbrush, but she didn’t let daunt her. Pug watched with wry amusement as Lina huffed over to a patch of moss and scraped up a bit with her knife, only for her eyes to light up part way through as she saw a particularly interesting rock on the ground a short distance away. She would mutter the name of what she gathered under her breath as well as its common uses. It was an old trick to keep her mind sharp and cement her knowledge, but it had the unintended side-effect allowing Pug to hear. The mischievous fairy amused himself by peppering her with questions, which she felt beholden to answer in the midst of all her distraction.

“Moonfern! We rarely get this back at the village.”

“And pray tell, what does that do, master alchemist?” A lilting tone in his voice confirmed he was teasing her, and had no true interest in its properties. Still she answered, excitement written clear on her face.

“If taken as a tea it lulls you to sleep rapidly, and in a cream it can provide mild pain relief. Look here!” She cried eagerly, already moving to the next item of interest as she gestured to a small mushroom growing from the bank of a river.

“This is a smeltshroom! I’ve only ever seen this in books.”

“What in the Queen’s grace is a smeltshroom?” Pug laughed, imagining a fiery little furnace burning in the stem of a toadstool.

Rather than spoil the surprise, Tourmaline simply smiled mischievously and gestured at the colony. Pug inched forward cautiously, craning his neck to get a better look. The specimens were amazing, the fruiting body a sinuous and flowing construction of lustrous metals. Silver and gold melded together in ways so perfect they seemed natural, but were certainly magical in nature. A master craftsman could spend their life attempting to recreate what nature made here, and this beauty wasn’t even the most amazing part. Strewn across the river bank, like the tossed away work of a mad jeweler, the growths caused the water to simmer and boil where it touched them. Periodically mushrooms would vibrate and begin to glow, emitting a gout of steam as the water around them evaporated in an instant. Slag would be spat from the gills of the mushroom, mixtures of sand, stone, and other unusable materials. The slag would sizzle and pop as it struck the water, and after the slag had dispersed the mushroom would begin to ooze a molten liquid that would cool into new additions to its striking metal body. The whole process took but a few minutes, minutes passed Jet by without his noticing as he was enthralled by the display before him.

“What in the hell was that?” Pug whispered.

“That was a smeltshroom! I’ve only ever seen them grow on ore deposits or forgotten piles of scrap. I suppose the underground part of it, the mycelium, is growing all throughout the river bank and eating the ores carried here by the river.” Lina seemed to be excited over his interest in the matter, rushing headlong to explain everything she knew. “It uses magic to smelt them down and grow, hence the name. Those little balls of slag it spits out are actually spores!”

“The name smeltshroom seems particularly on the nose.” Pug jabbed, however it fell flat as he wasn’t able to stifle his amazed grin.

“Do you mind if we wait here a moment? I want to gather some spores and try growing these back home. I’d like to experiment and see what all they can eat.” Her eyes were feverish with imagined experiments, though Pug was inclined to take a breather anyways.

“Of course, it's about time for a break anyways.” Pug said, unslinging his pack with a content sigh. “Though I am curious about something you said. How, precisely, does it grow here? You said the river washed ores down here?”

“Well, it probably took root during the dry season and started consuming the alluvial deposits left during the rainy season. I can’t imagine it taking root otherwise. “

“Alluvial?” Pug said, tasting the new word, its form novel and interesting.

“Alluvial deposits are just what the river leaves behind it carries from elsewhere. The reason there’s silver and gold in this one is probably because this river starts up in the mountains. Over the ages the river wears the mountain down and frees the ore, which is carried by the river to deposits like these. The smeltshrooms themselves likely came from the mountains as well.”

Tourmaline departed on an excited rant, talking about the metals could be found in deposits like this and how the smeltshrooms took on the qualities of the metals they fed upon. Pug smiled and listened as he pulled the rations from their pack to make a meal, allowing his mind to drift and simply relax in his friend’s chatter. For Lina’s ration he was able to secret it from her pack even as it hung on her back, after which he walked around to her front and pressed it into her hands. He watched as she accepted the parcel without ever looking at it, distracted as she chattered away. When Lina was impassioned she could go on for hours, until she was exhausted or miraculously satisfied she had explained her point. Pug left her to it, and though he harbored secret doubts a river could truly wear down a mountain, he trusted her on the matter as she was the far more knowledgeable of the two of them.

Satisfied she would eat her portion of the food when she paused her chattering to breathe, Pug slid into a seated position with his back to a tree. He listened to Tourmaline, his mind only half aware of what she was saying while his mouth kept him in the conversation with vague affirmations. His eyes wandered over the glittering flow of the river, up and over the trees towering above them. Here and there he could spot a pair of birds hopping from branch to branch, chirping eagerly before taking flight. A squirrel carried food in its mouth, cheeks bulging as it skittered past. Pug let out a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding, and chuckled ruefully. He always found himself more at ease once he was away from the fairy village, though some part of him was dismayed at what that implied about him.

Tourmaline looked over at him, seeming to sense his melancholy mood. Both opened their mouths to speak at the same time, but were cut off by the rapid patter of footsteps approaching and the rustling of underbrush. Lina visibly tensed, but Pug waved a hand at her casually and the tension in her frame eased away slowly. Moments later Slink burst out of a nearby bush, sliding to a stop between the two of them. The marten seemed happy to see them, swaying back and forth as though dancing as he tried to look at the both of them at once.

“I thought you left to drop off your boss’ kid?” Pug said, walking around Slink so the marten could see both of them at the same time.

“Hey there, Slink.” Liina’s voice quavered only slightly, her face betraying none of her nervousness at being near the marten. Pug was proud of her, but decided it was probably best if he kept to himself for the moment. Slink wouldn’t miss the opportunity to poke fun at the gnome, and Pug didn’t think it would take much to break her composure.

“Hey there yourself doll.” Slink blurted with a happy little hop before turning a joking glare upon Pug. “At least she said hello, you mook.”

“Oh hello Slink, my best pal. What made you decide to grace us with your presence?”

“Don’t think you can flatter me, kiddo.” Slink snorted. “I dropped the kit off with his Pa, and the kid wouldn’t shut up about you, kept tellin’ his dad how you guys helped save him. Now his old man thinks you’re the cat’s meow, told me to come help you guys out.”

Pug narrowed his eyes in suspicion but kept his voice even. “Really? That’s awfully nice of the don.”

“Yeah, well, it ain’t all that. I think the boss wanted me out from under foot and figured this was as good a way as any.” For a four legged carnivore, Slink managed to kick his feet in embarrassment fairly well, causing a disjointed feeling in Pug at the disconnect between what he was and the very bipedal expression of discomfort.

“Why does he want you out from underfoot, Slink?” Pug ribbed, recovering quickly.

“Maybe,” Slink hedged, drawing the word out long past its natural lifespan. “Maybe I was the one watchin’ the boss man’s kid when he took off.”

“Sounds about right.” Pug rolled his eyes. “Did you want any food? We didn’t pack for three, but I should have a bit to spare.”

"That's mighty kind of you, but I snatched a vole on the way over.”

Pug noticed Lina blanched, and he assumed she was disturbed at the idea of the marten killing something on the way over here. Something was most likely the size of a gnome or a fairy. He thought it was admirable, how she choked back her bias and attempted to move on. It was then he caught her eye, and she looked at him questioningly as he ate his share of the food. Pug gestured back at her hands, her face flushing as she realized she had been holding her share of the food the whole time. She scurried over to sit beside Pug with a murmured apology and thanks, notably keeping Pug between herself and the Marten. If Slink noticed her pointed avoidance of his person, he was chivalrous enough to let it lie.

The three of them chatted, the fairy and the gnome between mouthfuls of food. It was about halfway through the meal Pug started to feel as though it was him having two separate conversations, rather than a conversation among the group. With no small amount of frustration he started fielding the comments back and forth, until they were essentially having a conversation through him. With the flow established, he suddenly stood up and left to relieve himself. The entire walk into the brush he snickered at the awkward image of Lina and Slink haltingly continuing the conversation. Even Slink had looked relatively flustered. As he meandered back he dropped in the midst of Slink explaining the leader of the martens - Pug refused to let the furry little tyrant force him to call him “don” in his head, at the very least - was preparing for war. Apparently a few of the Speakers of the Forest, which was a better name than ‘talking animal people’, were provoking each other. People going missing, turning up dead.

“Sounds like it's in our best interest to get Jet back as soon as possible, for a variety of reasons.” Lina whispered, perturbed by the news.

With somber thoughts of war and chaos the party set off again. Lina quickly resumed the frenetic pace of specimen hunting, though it seemed she hadn’t rested long enough to get all of her stamina back. She slowed to a shuffle, trudging back and forth, and then fell onto her bottom as she stooped to pull a particularly vigorous growth out by the root. She blinked dazedly at Pug as he caught up to and passed her.

“Well come on. We certainly don’t have any time to wait on you.” He teased over his shoulder.

Tourmaline looked like she wanted to spit nails, but lacked the breath to do even that. Pug slowed to a stop, wondering if he would have to carry the gnome. With her well muscled build and his light frame he doubted he could bring her far. It was to his shock Slink approached and, in the manner of his namesake, fell upon Lina before the gnome realized he was there. In a whirl of activity the marten bit the back of her shirt and lifted her into the air, setting her down gently upon his back. Lina hardly had the energy to look afraid, much less flee.

“Look, you’re dog-tired miss.” The marten said quickly, hoping to head off any protests most likely. “And since you’re my buddy Pug’s moll, I think I can give you a ride for a little bit.”

Pug felt his face flush at Slink’s comment and shot him a glare, which the frustrating weasel pretended not to notice. Thankfully the gnome had bigger issues on her plate, if she would have even understood what the marten implied. The gnome was taking a bit to mull it all over, a look of genuine distress on her face as her tired legs argued against the fear in her heart. Before either of them could speak up, Slink continued.

“I’d even be willing to help you gather more of those herbs and stuff. If you want.” seemed to seal the deal. The exhausted alchemist gestured weakly into the distance.

“...Under that oak tree?” Lina muttered.

“Yeah, what about it?”

“I want some of thistle.”

Pug was quite tickled to hear Lina speak so meekly, her normal energy and exuberance subdued in Slink’s presence. He tried to hide his smile, but it was as though Tourmaline could sense his mirth. Her head whipped around with surprising alacrity given her exhaustion and her eyes pinned Pug to the spot. He jumped in shock and half lifted his hands in the air as a gesture of surrender, the smile never falling from his lips.

“And you.” Tourmaline hissed.

“Yes ma’am.” Pug said, hoping compliance and a helpful attitude carried in his voice.

“You fly up there and get me some leaves from that tree.” She pointed at a nearby tree whose first branches were easily forty feet above the ground.

Pug gave a sigh he hoped sounded long-suffering and dramatic before taking off. He wasn’t going to be the one to tell the gnome no, not after she tamed her fear of the marten in her quest to improve her alchemy. A little pride warmed the cockles of his heart as he flew away, though he’d never inform the gnome of it.

***

Several hours later and pride had decayed and cooled into bitterness and exhaustion. In the manner of all academics, the gnome knew little restraint once her eye was drawn to something, and she had Slink and Pug running themselves ragged to gather ever more samples. The only reason he wasn’t more irate was Lina had hopped off Slink as soon as she had the gumption to do so, and ran about on her own while simultaneously directing Pug, who had the unfortunate trait of being able to fly, into the treetops overhead. Slink, freed from his position as steed, was relegated to pack mule and laden with all the materials the gnome was gathering. Since she only had so many containers, Tourmaline had wound up using rope to literally lash bundles of miscellaneous junk to the marten.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

This behavior saw the three of them stumble up to the guards at the mouth of the gnome burrow, sweat-slick and out of breath. Slink was so overburdened and exhausted his furry stomach was at risk of being rubbed bare against the path beneath them. Pug’s back, particularly the muscle group related to his wings, had gone from aflame to numb and loose feeling, which was worrying. He could hardly twitch his wings, and neither arm wanted to raise above shoulder height. Lina looked just as bad, though her eyes sparkled gleefully as she cataloged her gains. The guards, an older gnome named Chalcedony and a young gnomish lad named Nephrite, had already sent for a hand to assist them in bringing in their goods, as well notifying her parents of Tourmaline’s safe return. They had attempted to pester Lina about her whereabouts, but found she didn’t have the attention to respond and so relegated themselves to eyeing Slink and Pug in an accusatory manner.

“What’s the deal with these bozos?” Slink grumbled, though he made sure to keep it quiet enough to not be heard by anyone but Pug.

Pug could sense real irritation in his tone, which was a rarity for his furry, lighthearted friend. Martens never seemed to fare well under any authority but their own, but that wasn't the issue here. The issue was their accusatory glares and their tense grip on the spears marked them as guardsmen. In particular the marten bristled with agitation when the gnomes addressed Pug, speaking to fairy in tones that were clipped and terse at best. The gnomes probably assigned no small amount of blame to Pug, his guilt or innocence -the latter of the two being far more unlikely in their eyes- of no particular relevance. Pug pulled the marten back a bit to keep the guards out of earshot and explained Lina’s situation, hoping to get the marten to see things from the gnomes’ perspectives.

“So you’re telling me she ran away from home and traveled alone through the woods to seek your help?” Slink would have arched an eyebrow if he could have, instead opting to regard Pug with an air of incredulity. “And there’s nothing going on between you two?”

“We’ve just worked together before. She clearly saw how heroic and competent I am while I was on the job.” Pug stated, cloaking his voice in a veneer of false vanity.

“Yeah, sure. More like she knows you love trouble like molls love a cat with scratch.” Slink muttered. “You’ll come running to assist any fella in a lick of trouble.”

“Run that one by me again?”

Slink just scoffed and turned his fuzzy head to look at the guards again. Pug didn’t have the energy to convince him, and instead leaned up against the marten, enjoying his soft fur. Moments later, far too soon in the weary fairy’s estimation, a gnomish lass by the name of Jadeite arrived with a porter who was drawing an empty cart behind him. They worked together with the guards and the new arrivals to get all of the alchemical reagents loaded and tied down, and then they set off into the burrow. Slink made his excuses and scurried up a nearby tree to bed down for the night, claiming he didn’t like being underground. Far more likely, in Pug’s opinion, was the marten simply trusted the gnomes as much as they trusted him, which was to say not at all.

“‘Bye Chalcy, Nephy.” Lina called tiredly as they moved on. The two guard’s waved goodbye, however Pug felt their eyes on his back long after they’d become nothing more than smudges in the distance.

As they marched through subterranean halls of the burrow they drew the eyes of nearly every passerby. Many were grateful and surprised to see Lina, and just as many regarded Pug with hooded, suspicious glares. Rather than kick up a fuss Pug simply moved to the other side of the cart the porter was drawing along, between it and the wall, trying to keep it between him and the majority of the pedestrians. He knew gnomes were an insular people, but this was a bit much. His irritation tempted him to rant and rave against them, for why would he return with her if he had taken her from her home in the first place? He was somewhat gratified to see Jade smile an apology at him, which he returned with his own weary grin. At least not all of gnomekind was against him.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, which Pug added to the growing list of travails he had to undertake to rescue Jet, they came to an intersection. Lina bade the porter to follow her and asked Jade to take Pug to her family’s residence. Catching Pug’s surprised expression she explained.

“I’m going to take all of this to our lab. Can’t have it overflowing my parents' suite can I?” She said, trying to be lighthearted though her voice broke on his name.

“Alright. Just catch up quickly, otherwise your parents will break out all your childhood drawings and your diary.” Tourmaline scoffed as he said it.

“I only have research journals, thank you very much.” She said with a flourish before continuing on her way. The porter followed after her, sweat beading on his forehead. Pug said a solemn prayer to the Queen for the wellbeing of the poor man before following Jade into the residential tunnels. Without Lina here to incriminate him most people passing by merely looked at him with curiosity, though he could see as the rumor mill struggled to catch up as occasionally someone would frown and stare him down as he passed.

He distracted himself by talking to Jade. He had thought as much by her slender and delicate frame, but she did not come from a mining family like Tourmaline had. Jade’s family were jewelers by trade, and she had joined the guard against her parent’s wishes. Apparently she was attempting to win some independence from them even as they continued to arrange dates and suitors for her. She was in the midst of telling him about her last suitor, a blubbery whale who was the son of a renowned merchant in another gnomish settlement when a heavy hand settled on Pug’s shoulder. He turned to find himself staring into piercingly blue eyes.

“Hullo sir.” He managed to utter as Bazzite spun him around to grasp him by both shoulders. The motion woke Pug’s exhausted muscles, and they made their dissatisfaction known by aching and burning raucously.

“Where is my daughter, fairy?” The stocky gnome growled at him. Hitherto Pug had the good fortune to see Bazzite only from a distance, where his disapproval was conveyed purely through displeased expressions and an aura of intolerance. His intimidation factor was much greater up close.

“She said she wanted to stop by her lab to drop off some of the samples we’d gathered on the way here. Isn't that right?” That last bit was directed at Jade, who nodded eagerly.

“That’s right Bazz, she should be by later this evening. They had quite a bit to unload.”

“Samples? You were busy gathering herbs while Jet was missing?”

“Not my idea, I assure you.” Pug tried a winning smile, but Bazz simply scowled and looked at Jade.

“I’ll take him the rest of the way from here.” He announced, before turning and stalking away. Pug shot a pleading look at Jade, who smiled apologetically and scurried away.

“Traitor.” Pug muttered, though he had to admit he was being somewhat unfair.

Bazz didn’t utter a word the entire walk, and several times Pug had to kick into a jog to keep up as Bazz threaded his way through congested halls. By the time they arrived at what Pug assumed was Lina’s home he felt lightheaded and faint. Bazzite threw open the door and stormed inside, going deeper into the home where Pug heard a door slam closed. The home was dark and murky, and Pug felt as though he wasn’t welcome. He’d have turned and left then but the idea of stumbling around the warren, whose populace seemed inclined to regard him with suspicion, sounded far less appetizing. Nervous and without a chaperone, Pug closed the door behind him gently and called out.

“Hello?”

Bright green eyes flared into existence a few feet in front of him, eliciting a yelp from Pug. A melancholy laugh emanated from the direction of the eyes, and a lantern flared into light. Blinking through the tears brought on by the sudden light, Pug could seeTourmaline’s mother, also previously only seen from a distance. She had a small sad smile as she spoke.

“I apologize, we forget not everyone can see in the dark as well as we can.”

"That's quite alright, Miss…” Pug let it trail off, prodding his mind in vain as he attempted to dislodge the memory of her name.

“Oh, please just call me Beryl. I was just making dinner for Bazz and I, but I heard I should be expecting Tourmaline, a fairy and some sort of weasel?” She asked sweetly, a little confused as Pug smiled. He was amused at someone else calling Slink a weasel, though he doubted she would understand the humor in it and quickly stifled his grin.

“You won’t have to worry about the weasel, just Tourmaline and I tonight. My name is Pug, and I’m thankful for your hospitality.”

“Ah, not that there was much hospitality given.” At this she shot a dark look into the recesses of the home, presumably where Bazzite had disappeared.

Pug was quick to assure her there were no hard feelings, and offered to help with the dinner since it was clear she was going to have to expand the scope of her operations. Beryl politely declined and instead offered Pug the use of their bath, which he eagerly accepted. She led him to the bath, lighting several sconces with small candles sitting in pools of half melted wax. She showed him the operation of the bath, which used two knobs and runic magic to heat the water to the preferred temperature. As soon as she was gone Pug threw himself in the bath, letting the hot water soothe his muscles. He had to be careful of his wings, which fit poorly in a gnomish bath, but beyond minor inconvenience it was heaven on earth for his sore and fatigued muscles.

Pug enjoyed the bath until he felt as though he were going to pass out, so loose and relaxed he almost couldn’t pull himself out of the water. He toweled himself off slowly and fluttered his wings as fast as he could manage to try and dry them. Beryl had left out some clothes, presumably Tourmalines or Jets, which he put on the pants from immediately. The shirt, however, would not accommodate his wings, so he was forced to fashion a sort of loose robe from a spare towel.

While he had thought it a creative solution, Beryl tutted in disapproval in the way only a mother could when she saw him. She approached with a pair of scissors and took the shirt she had provided out of his hands, snipping two paths into the fabric of the back of the shirt from the bottom almost to the shoulder. Once done she helped him into the shirt, aligning the slits with his wings. While it was not the most comfortable thing in the world, it worked and her promise to wash his clothes as soon as she was able mollified him. He realized only now his pack with spare clothes was likely up in a tree with his marten companion.

Though he attempted to cover his own portion of the chores, Beryl firmly dismissed any possibility of him washing his clothes for himself, and so Pug found himself sitting on a couch in the living room and listening to the distant clatter of kitchenware. Warm, relaxed, and eminently glad to no longer be walking, Pug allowed himself to slump over and close his eyes, gently entering a much needed nap. He was vaguely aware when Tourmaline arrived and spoke with her mother, and tracked her through half closed eyes as she went to the bath.

Some unknown amount of time later, for he must have slipped into a deeper sleep than he intended, he was shaken awake by Tourmaline. Freshly bathed and dressed in clean clothes, she worked to towel dry her hair in vain, the thick sheet of curls greedily hung onto water. A loose lock of her hair hung in front of her face and dripped water onto him, causing his nose to twitch and bringing a scowl to his face as soon as he woke.

“You’ll get a cold if you don’t dry yourself off right.”

“Please, gnomes aren’t as frail as you hollow boned fairies.” She shot back, striding away.

Pug grumbled as he pulled himself upright, stomach growling. His clothes were wrinkled and disheveled, and he knew his hair was probably splayed about in all sorts of crazy directions. He rubbed at his face where the texture of the couch had left pressure marks before following Lina. He almost froze when he entered the dining room behind her to see Bazzite sitting at the head of the table, but luckily kept his composure. He ran his hands through his hair, the effort meant to hide his now shaking hands as much as it was to tame the unruly mess.

Turning his attention to the table, he took in the assortment of dishes as well as pitchers full of liquid red and purple and smelling vaguely of fruit and berries. A cursory inspection of the items saw most fit to eat, his constitution being somewhat different than a gnome’s, and the drinks provided were merely juice, nothing more. He heaped his plate full and ate with gusto in the face of the tension hung heavily over the table. Lina looked as uncomfortable as he felt, however a day of traveling and scavenging left her defenseless to the allure of food, and she filled her plate, and emptied it, with great rapidity.

The atmosphere remained unpleasant, even beyond the sound of two ravenous animals eating. Lina’s parents starkly contrasted their daughter and her friend, eating slowly and quietly while they pointedly avoided eye contact with each other. Pug had intended to distract himself with his meal for as long as he could, however fairies had smaller appetites than gnomes and he was soon stuffed to the brim. Unable to manage another bite he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his stomach contentedly, studiously avoiding looking at Bazzite.

By the time the last of Lina’s family had finished eating Pug had already, in his boredom, imagined vague faces into the swirling gray of the stone ceiling he could no longer unsee. He almost cried out when Beryl brought a candelabra over to the table and the faces disappeared as the light revealed the uniform gray color of the stone, dismayed as he was by the erasure of his phantasmal friends. He bit his tongue however, for he suspected fairy-like whimsy would not be appreciated tonight. Beryl and Tourmaline worked together to clear the table, Pug once again forced to relax rather than help. If ever courtesy and manners were a burden, Pug reflected, then it was now as he could do nothing but wither under Bazzite’s disapproval.

“Mom, Dad, I’d like you to put up Pug for the night if it’s no trouble. We’ll be leaving tomorrow, so we won’t be in your hair for long.” Tourmaline attempted to pass it off with casual ease, but her voice warbled as her nerves came to the fore and laid clear the lie of her confidence.

“If Pug doesn’t mind sleeping on the couch-” Beryl attempted to speed along the topic, but Bazzite cut her off.

“Leaving?” Bazzite said the word calmly, the weight of the room’s atmosphere seeming to double.

“Yes, I asked Pug here to help me find Jet and bring him home.” Pug shrank as she mentioned him, but thankfully Bazzite was busy staring at Lina.

“I don’t think you understand young lady, you won’t be leaving this house for at least a year. The burrow for at least a decade.”

“Are you seriously trying to ground me right now!?” Tourmaline spat, volume rising. Pug was distracted by her wording, letting curiosity take him on a flight of idle curiosity. He always assumed grounding had been a term for fairy children because it meant, well, grounded. As in you couldn’t fly. He found it funny gnomes had it, being as they lived underground and all. Does that mean they were glued to the roof when they were in trouble? A small voice in the back of his head cried out in frustration however, reminding him even if it wasn’t his place to participate he still shouldn’t abandon his friend in this argument.

No more whimsy. This is a very whimsy unfriendly environment right now!

A brief stray from reality saw him returning to the pair of them going at it with ever greater fervor.

“You disappeared, and right after we lost Jet! Do you know how worried we were? Your mother could hardly eat, she was so worried about you!” Bazz was roaring at this point. Pug had to hope stone walls offered better sound dampening than the wood he was used to back home, otherwise the neighbors were certainly going to hear their debate in vivid detail.

“I had to find someone who actually gave a damn about my friend. Pug agreed to help me look for him without hesitation! You told me he was probably resting in a hawk’s belly.”

“Pug!? The fairy who aided the pair of you as you went gallivanting across the forest without a care in the world? It’s a miracle something like this hadn’t happened before now. Speaking of, if Pug is so damn reliable, where was he when Jet was taken?” He gestured in Pug’s general direction, not bothering to address the person he was belittling.

Pug made to speak up and defend himself explaining he only covered for them when they, first of all, told him they were going out. Outside of the times he was guarding them, Pug tended to stick around the near side of the fairy village. His protests were lost in the din of Bazz’s shouting, ignored.

“And who’s to say Jet isn’t crow feed at this point?”

“Pug’s friend Baba used her magic. She told us Jet is still alive.”

“Baba!?” Bazz said incredulously as he turned to Pug. “You took her to a witch?”

“Now see, ‘witch’ is a term with negative connotations. I prefer to call Baba a ‘mystical hermit’.” Pug explained, helpfully, he hoped.

“This is ridiculous. Fairies are the least responsible of the Wyldelings! All they do is lounge and play sorry little pranks. I am forbidding you from going on this adventure with this fairy, and that’s final!”

“Forbi-” Lina was about to retort when a stern voice cut her off.

“Alright enough’s enough!” Beryl didn’t raise her voice or put emotion into her voice like her husband or daughter. Instead she spoke with a quiet intensity that made even Lina and Bazz sit up straight.

“I’ve been hoping the two of you would settle this like the adults you are but it looks like I’ll have to step in. Lina, honey, running off like you did was immature and terrified your father and I deeply. We didn’t know where you were or what happened to you. We weren’t even sure we’d get the small amount of closure Jet’s mother has gotten. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.” Lina said quietly, as chastised as Pug had ever seen her.

“Now, Bazz my love. Our daughter is a grown woman. You can’t go grounding her or forbidding her from doing anything. What we should be doing is supporting her and helping where we can, so she feels like she can turn to us when she needs to. She may be your little girl, but she isn’t so little anymore. Got it?”

“Yes my darling.” Bazzite said, trying to soothe her rage. Amusingly, after being chewed out, Lina and her father had identical looks of embarrassment and apology on their faces. It was enough to bring a giggle rising up in Pug, which he struggled to stifle.

“Pug!” Beryl continued, startling him so thoroughly the rising giggle sank to a premature grave.

“Ma’am!” He cried, unsure of why he was going to get a tongue lashing, but quite certain he deserved it.

“I apologize for Bazz’s words. He was unfair and insulting not only to you, but to your people.” She said, softening. “I hope you’ll find it in you to forgive him.”

“Yes, I am sorry Pug. I was assuming things about you because of stereotypes I heard second hand. Please forgive me.” Bazz said, apparently contrite. Pug made a show of thinking about it, putting an upset look on his face.

“Well, as you may know, we fairies are known far and wide for being fickle and shallow creatures.” He paused for effect, savoring Bazz’s discomfort under Beryl’s harsh gaze. He knew if he made a hassle of it he could get her to excoriate him further, but really wasn’t Pug’s style. “Therefore, I suppose you can rest assured all of those insults will surely be forgotten by tomorrow.”

Bazz sagged in relief and Beryl favored him with a small smile. Meanwhile Lina kicked him underneath the table for harassing her father. Pug simply smiled in reply, which only earned him another kick.

“However, I do want to clarify one thing. I am expecting you to look after my daughter Pug.” Beryl continued, her eyes cold and hard.

“Don’t worry ma’am. I’m known far and wide in my village as a paragon of unfairy-like conduct. I am quite boring as I am both responsible and serious, and I keep my promises. I’ll look after Lina and do my best to see Jet back home.”

Beryl relaxed and she reached across the table to set her hand atop his own, the kind action for some reason bringing a feeling of comfort and familiarity to Pug. One he didn’t fully understand. Perhaps his mother would have made a similar gesture had he known her. Pug mulled over this as they all dispersed to their respective beds, he himself laying face down on the couch to allow his wings some much needed space. Despite the weight of his forlorn thoughts and his earlier nap, he quickly fell into a deep slumber.