Chapter 17: Hurt
The blade slid past Pan’s head; the additional bulk provided by the padded tip brushed her fur as the Lilhun ducked into the straight thrust. She responded by unloading the tension built up by the drop in her right leg to dart to Violet’s exposed flank, pivoting her left to face the Atmo side-on and unleashed a rapid combo of a jab into a body kick. The jab flew short as Violet slipped the punch to brace her blade against the kick which hit with a heavy crack against the protective sheath, but didn’t stop her from flicking her free blade four times in quick succession, each swipe forcing Pan to adjust and readjust her footing to avoid the deathly precise cuts that would have been possible were it not for the protective equipment blunting the edge. The space opened between them as Violet turned to face Pan down, the flurry having off-set her footing.
Another roaring straight needed Pan to shift to a bladed stance, her profile completely sideways to the strike as it slid past her leather chest piece. A follow-up cross forced her to drop low again and fire herself backwards, well outside of the strikes as they pierced where she had been. Her paw reached out to stifle the return of a blade as the unoccupied paw shot out to land two quick jabs into Violet, each placed at the body due to her compacted stance. Both hit true, if weak, and she disengaged as the Atmo threw a curved hook into her stomach. The thud of wood and the creaking of the ironwood springs compressing drowned out sound of air violently expelling itself from her lungs. She forced herself to stay upright and slid along the ground as she struggled to gain her breath.
Violet took advantage of her hexapod nature to close any distance built by the strike, alternating sets of two legs; four always touching the ground with the last set primed to plunge into the ground for an instant redirect. The two free legs driving into the wood-covered steel to halt the burst as a knee from Pan threatened to connect with where her head should have been, swiftly followed by a delayed extension of the leg to deliver a renewed strike to adjust for the miss. Violet was forced to retreat a step to lean back against the swing, only to need to deflect a second leg as Pan had used the momentum to spin herself into a roundhouse kick on the return. Violet snapped a click to mark a straight she opted not to take as Pan stumbled to keep her feet under her after the kicking leg had been thrown wildly off course.
The exchange continued in kind several times, each combatant demonstrating their strengths with each encounter. Violet held excellent control of herself, each move an attempt at machined execution of precise strikes and almost teleport levels of movement control within her range. Every thrust and swing were carefully timed to cover herself while responding to every affront. The Atmo specialized in counterattacks, using her durability and blades to either strike back or position her blades to ensure the strike would land on the sharp edge hidden beneath the protective equipment, all while smothering the opponent at a range that gave her the greatest number of options. Assuming it wasn’t her flank, the range was uncomfortably long.
Pan had taken the niche of a fluid; punches, swipes, and kicks all flowing between each other and using her superior flexibility and balance to slide around attacks and striking from blind spots. Were it not for the rules set by the spar and her own inexperience; she would have employed grapples, but it wouldn’t do for her to get too used to that being an option. The Lilhun was being trained to avoid damage and keep her foe guessing so as not to reveal herself to harm, and locking herself to a limb risked more damage than she could take right now.
It was a pretty good idea to specialize the two into defensive archetypes; Pan lacked the sturdiness and power for a more direct approach, leaving the best way for her to come out of most altercations to be an untouchable ‘death by a thousand cuts’. The mixed timings of her kicks allowed her to bail out of awkward positions and link several hits with the single movement. Her punches and swipes were performed with lightly padded leather wraps and retracted claws, designed to force actions and obscure her footwork by covering the adversary’s line of sight with the fist.
Violet was a bit more straight-forward. Make it a terrible idea to attack her and, if they do anyway, make the impact leave them unable to do more. Flicker jabs kept people from smothering her down too close for her to extend her arms in a counter attack and the driving straight kept them at distance and off balance. Hooks and reset flicks covered any heavier strikes in the middle range while leaving a smaller strike on reserve for any hasty retaliation.
The dynamic of the spar leaned heavily back and forth in the favour of whoever managed to use mere seconds to push forth their position, both avoiding any attacks that would do unjust damage and calling strikes that would have likely injured should they follow through. Violet was mostly the one calling those however, as Pan tended to over-stay her welcome in front of the Atmo to apply extra pressure she couldn’t afford. The Lilhun only called one early on in the session as she had caught Violet’s blade on the return and didn’t commit to a devastating clawed kick to the head.
Joseph stood from the bench, clapping his hands once to proclaim the bout finished. “Alright! Good job, you two!” He smiled as he signalled the end, watching the two progress so smoothly over the past few weeks had been a fun venture for him. He helped Pan remove her wraps and released the clasps on Violet’s sheaths. “You guys know what you did wrong?”
Pan spoke first, a much more common experience now that she had fully accepted that there wasn’t much expected from her other than to be a member of their little family. “I shouldn’t have gone for that last kick.”
Her voice was mildly frustrated in tone, but it was an honest appraisal. Joseph laughed as he placed the safety gear on the shelf next to the bench and spare spears he kept. “Nope! The kick was a great idea!” When Pan looked confused, he smiled and elaborated. “The roundhouse kick was a fantastic use of your momentum, as well as completely catching Violet off guard. The issue was your positioning. You could have swung towards the strike, away from the free blade, and followed up from there instead of holding your ground in the centre. She was able to call that last hit because your leg came at her from a side she was already defending. If you had adjusted yourself properly, you might not have been able to do the same kick, but you would have had a clear shot with a different one.”
“I see.” Pan mulled over the advice for a moment, adopting his habit of resting his fist on his lips. “Anything else?”
“Oh, Plenty. Not as much as last time though!” Joseph patted her on the shoulder, beaming with pride and only slightly poking fun. “Your kicks are getting pretty refined, but your punches lack the sting of anything effective. I’d recommend drilling those a bit more when you practice next. Maybe think about where you’re striking a bit more. Your kicks are mostly aimed for the head, which makes them predictable. Other than that, try to stay away from challenging the other person directly. You can’t take a hit as well as Violet can, for instance.”
Pan nodded, moving to take a seat and drink some water after the exercise. He turned his attention to Violet. “Alright, Violet. You’re doing great. Most of what you need to work on is not blindly rushing in. You’re quick to stop, but when you do, it takes you a moment to set yourself back up. It makes it easier for people to circle you and start taking pot shots where it’s harder to defend. I think it’s time to start working on defence that doesn’t involve your blades. As it stands, once someone with experience gets behind your guard, that’s it. Taking your time with the jabs could help too, not every shot has to be at full speed, not with the blades, so save those for when it counts.”
Violet clicked in affirmative, shuffling herself out of the room. Despite the criticism, she maintained a good mood at the theoretical victory of the spar. Pan took a moment to swallow her water and wipe the moisture off her lips before speaking up. “Why do you not spar with us?”
Joseph stayed quiet for a moment, watching Violet leave as he thought of a proper answer. “Honestly, you guys would probably kill me before the first round is out.” He lazily looked at Pan, shrugging as he spoke. “I’m out of practice and not in a hurry to face either of you down in a controlled setting.”
“Will we ever see you fight?” She asked. The question was of honest curiosity, if a bit tinted by disappointment. He understood why she wanted to spar with him, fighting another biped would allow her to gauge her progress cleaner than against someone who couldn’t use the same tool set for her to compare against, but he really didn’t want to throw himself in front of her when fists started flying. He was training her to be a pretty flexible and slippery fighter, the kind he doesn’t deal well with. Once she works out the stalls between placements, she’ll be running circles around him.
“Hopefully not.” He stated simply.
Pan accepted the answer, adjusting the string holding her shorts when she stood. The leather had been processed and worked on in short order, covering the otherwise questionable state the group had delved into with the lack of any real cloth. So far Pan had two sets of clothing made from squirrel leather, sown together with thin fibres of lightly treated rubber wood with a noticeable amount of skill. The clothes were divided into something resembling a sports bra and a pair of athletic shorts that only came a few inches down on her leg. It was great for the exercise, and mostly all they could manage with the smaller pelts without ruining the rotation that Violet and her had worked out.
Several basins were in constant rotation to allow a slow but steady supply of processed leather for them to work on. He himself even had a vest made, but his longer legs meant that they would have to start hunting larger game in order to not use such a large quantity of their stockpile. A good portion of it was being put together as ‘pants’ for Mama to continue to collect logs for the fence, a hilarious idea on paper but resembled an oddly shaped tarp that was secured around her base with buckles.
They left the gym, idly making their way into the hub. All the improvements that Pan had suggested had now been implemented, along with other odds and ends around the base that Joseph had noticed, which meant serious consideration had begun to be put towards ensuring their compound would be fortified.
The initial fence was about a third of the way complete, and further testing of the various wood types that Pan had requested for her leather-working let him designate different types to different purposes. Rubber wood and ironwood would be used where flexibility would be useful, mostly for any arched or load bearing supports. The grey oak would be used for general construction, since it shared the most with the Terran wood he knew, save for its habit of shattering under extreme heat. Finally; palm would be used for furniture and detailed work as it had a soft give to it without deforming. It was the most comfortable wood to work with and has replaced most surfaces that was expected to be sat or laid on, feeling like a slightly stiff memory foam until enough pressure was exerted and it would firm up. It lost all stiffness permanently under heat so it was currently being tested to replace tempered rubber wood for stitching and other fine work that didn’t want ridged material.
The smell of squirrel meat simmering in the kitchen told them that Mama had returned from her latest cutting operation and had decided that now was a good time for lunch. A quick glance out the med bay windows as they walked to the hub shown a respectable pile of logs taller than he was and about twice as wide for each of the wood types that had started changing colour as they dried, the bright silvers and greys darkening as the plants died out.
It would certainly thin out the forest surrounding the meadow, but it was controlled so as not to leave any one area more exposed than any other. With a solid supply of each, he was able to start planning out actual defensive measures for the wildlife. A moat would be a bit of an eye-sore but would keep anything from just barging blindly into the area. Unfortunately, with the winter starting to settle in, he couldn’t rely on the rain to fill any trenches he would need to spend weeks upon weeks digging the frosted dirt, making the idea undesirable at best.
Violet was already lounging on the Atmo couch, idly sculpting away at the early stages of something, but it wasn’t far along enough for Joseph to hazard a guess what it was yet. Pan took a seat against the furniture and started chatting with Violet as he excused himself to go grab a shower. He might not have worked out much, but that was no reason to ignore basic hygiene. He spotted Tel napping in a tree through Mama’s window, taking her duties about as serious as he had grown accustom to. She had since disappeared when he finished up, walking past the window again to find the branch vacated.
The other three were settled down around the table, munching away at the meal. Pan was talking about what they needed to do to improve the next batch of clothing while Violet nodded and gestured in response to some prompts. She had gotten much more involved with talking to them since she internalized that they did understand her, though were lacking the parts required to speak in return. He noticed her scanning the two when they talked amongst themselves on a few occasions, likely trying to parse some of the language to better understand her new group.
Joseph joined them at the table, grabbing a squirrel steak and some rock-worm before asking pan his question. “Since when have you understood Violet?”
Pan paused her chewing, swallowing before responding. “I don’t, really, but a lot of what we work on can be represented by simple pantomime. Like how you would open a door,” She grabbed at an imaginary door knob and rotated her paw then lightly pushed forward. “But more in line with leather-working.”
“Ah.” He said, not quite getting how the craft could be broken down into something that comparatively simple, but happy Pan was getting along with the Atmo nonetheless. “What’s next for you two?”
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She hummed, eyes wandering over the table as she thought. “I think we could start working on waterproofing our bags and the like after I finish sewing up a few more spare sets of clothes. It would be advisable with the colder weather.”
“You know how to do that?” Joseph reached out to scratch Violet’s head as he asked, the Atmo purred as she worked through her meal, leaning into the hand.
“Yes, Harrow noticed that some of the moss you can find around will secrete a waterproof glue-like substance when pressed. If we can dilute it properly with some of that lactic acid, it should bind to the leather and allow us to cover the seams and such. I ran a test sample a few days ago and the results look promising, but that means we need to gather more moss.”
“Hmm.” He hummed as he tossed a chuck of meat into his mouth, pausing to swallow. “We’ll keep an eye out when we go check the snares nearby in a bit. I still have no idea about the specifics of what you’re doing, but if it works, it works.”
Pan nodded, allowing everyone to finish their meals and chat about nothing for a while.
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Harrow pulled the last of the squirrels out of her snare, the frost of her breath spewing fog into the air while she reset the trap and placed it slightly further down the trail to avoid the chance that the animal had marked the area as dangerous with a pheromone of some description. She wasn’t sure if it did that or not, but it was better to assume and it hasn’t ruined her hunting by doing it.
She could hear Nalah cracking off a tree not too far away, so she decided to meet up with her so they could go back together. The catch was heavy, but she wasn’t going to complain since she had caught four today, two more than usual! It was still more tedious and tiring than the work she preferred to do, but at least this had a sense of importance behind it instead of just plotting points on a star map that no one would ever likely use or reading countless reports regarding inventory.
Tel brought back more snares recently, claiming to have stolen them from the biped’s pack, though she doubted it. Harrow had wandered near the pack’s territory on accident a few suns ago and watched Tel lounge out in the open as the biped talked to her, offering her some of their supplies and in general just not minding that they had been sending someone to keep watch on what they were doing. She stayed out of reach, sure, but made no effort to conceal herself or hide that she was watching. The only time Tel made an effort to disappear was when the insects or Pan were around, though Harrow couldn’t be sure why.
She didn’t really care how Tel kept coming back with odds and ends from the biped, but was thankful for the increase in productivity with each addition. The snares had increased the range and effectiveness of their hunting, and bringing back some dried meat every so often was usually a nice effort for everyone when they went out to collect their supplies. Everyone seemed to hold their own suspicions of what Tel was doing while she was out, but they all silently agreed not to ask questions while the results were this good.
When she brought it up to Sahari, mostly to inform her that, although Tel wasn’t likely trading information, she was overstepping her role, the Grand Huntress merely gave her a knowing look and just requested that she pretend she hadn’t seen anything. Harrow was pretty sure that every time the biped acted kindly, Sahari was growing more and more accepting of merging with their pack should it be required.
They weren't there, not yet, but the cold was starting to hit harder than they were able to defend against. Even with Jax bending the trees in on themselves to form a domed roof over the shelter and packing it down to protect against the elements, the cold bled through the walls and fought the fire. Luckily, they were able to have a much brighter blaze with the increased space, but it was a shame that they needed to leave a gap to allow the smoke to escape.
The food situation had improved drastically since Pan was sent out as a servant, even if the biped didn’t make any obvious use of such a position. They had enough to start experimenting with the drying rack Tel had explained to them and were starting to produce their own preserved meat, though the smoked flavour left something to be desired. Maybe some salt.
Pan not being used in the role she was expected to occupy also allowed Harrow some breathing room, mentally. She wasn’t sure how she would feel if Pan had been set to doing nothing but menial and back breaking labour as he lounged in his den, especially with how precarious their own situation has been since they landed. It was nice to be able to hope they would be treated with at least a modicum of respect should they need to contract with him.
The terms of such contract would need to be discussed, but Sahari seemed to be ready to give herself if it was required. She still would need to for the merging, but with the contract of vassalage it was entirely possible that all of them would need to be marked by him. It was a limiting existence to have their choice of mate removed and freedoms restricted, but it was vaguely better than death even if he wasn’t as kind as he seemed to be. Even Jax may need to be marked, depending on the biped’s tastes.
Marked or not, falling under the protection of an actual structure and hopefully leadership would do a lot to straighten out their worries. Jax has been growing tense with every sun that passes and she had overheard him mumbling about how to take the den from them more than once. Tel has been spending more time over there than she had with her own pack and Nalah has started to mirror Sahari’s expression with every gift that Tel came back with. Harrow didn’t blame any of them. Tel was bored at the best of times and seemed to enjoy her little game with the biped, Nalah and the Huntress were mulling over the future of the pack and how the biped would affect it, and Jax wanted to rip everything out for their pack. Harrow was admittedly fine with whichever decision was made, the orange female not really trusting herself to make any heavy decisions, though found herself feeling anxious whenever Jax started getting worked up.
It was more complicated than it seemed at the surface, and she wasn’t prepared to dig into every minute detail to parse out which had the lesser chance of dooming them. Aggressive action could end up with them all dead or seriously injured, and falling under them could lead to a life of servitude and hardship. Alternatively, they could easily rout or dispatch the pack, or the biped could lead them fairly and with full endorsement of Sahari. There wasn’t enough data to firmly plant a foot on either side of the discussion and being too cautious could lead to them simply freezing to death in their hesitation.
Either way, they needed to deal with the biped. Be it through violence or diplomacy. Neither field being one Harrow could do competently.
Nalah landed with a thud a few feet away, shortly followed by a tree uprooting itself under its weight and slamming into the ground behind her. Harrow jumped slightly before giving Nalah a bewildered look.
“How do you manage to make so much noise? And why are you completely fine with having something that much larger than you slamming into the ground nearby?” Harrow yelled, still frazzled by the impact.
Nalah laughed as she turned around, extending a clay to start trimming the felled log. “Simple, I’m used to much louder posing a much bigger threat to my life. As for how I take these down? Time and leverage, Harrow. Lots of time and a little bit of leverage.”
Harrow noticed some stiff branches, each several feet long, were wedged under the roots of the tree. “You dug those under the tree and threw yourself on it to pull it loose didn’t you.”
“Haha, yep! I could have tried scratching away at it a bit at a time, but we’d never have enough wood. I need to go back and grab a torch so I can weaken the tree enough to start cracking it, though.” She replied, talking over her shoulder as she removed a few of the smaller branches.
Harrow thought for a moment before continuing. “So, by process of elimination, that is that tree that gets brittle under heat, right?”
“Yeah,” Nalah replied, tossing the last of the manageable branches aside. “The other types are a bit too difficult to work with without tools. At least this one I can manage without.”
“That’s fair.” Harrow conceded, collecting the tinder and boughs. “I’ll bring these back, we’re a way out so I'll give you a paw once I drop these off.”
“Sounds good! I’ll take a second to sit and make sure this thing is ready to go while I wait. Let Sahari know that I got another ready to bring back, too.” She said, sitting on the tree and taking a piece of dried meat from a leaf. They might not have clothes, but the twine secured their little bundles over their shoulders so they could bring some odds and ends with them while they were out. Harrow missed pockets, though.
“I’ll see you again in a bit.” Harrow waved as she secured the bundle with some extra string and started walking back. It was a longer walk than she was used to, having to check snares out far enough from camp that the wildlife wouldn’t be spooked by the normal comings and goings. Another revelation that Tel had come back with after her observations. Apparently, she herself had never noticed, but if that was due to her being oblivious to the environment or not was up for debate.
The rest were back at the shelter, having completed their own errands a while ago. A few words were exchanged, mostly just playful banter at Tel for having fallen asleep since the biped had spent most of the day inside. How Tel could sleep in the cold was a mystery to Harrow, but she was aware some people just dealt with the chill better than others. Harrow was not one of them, the cold leaving her extremities in tingling pain with ease.
She relayed the message during a quick warming up near the fire, receiving a short laugh as Harrow detailed the method of extraction, before lighting one of the thicker branches and heading back towards Nalah and the tree. The leaves crunched quite a bit in the cold, breaking up the rolling silence as the small animals around her stopped until she had long since passed them. Frost had started taking its hold on the environment, solidifying the ground and suctioning heat from her paw pads. Some of the trees had started shifting their colours from silver and grey to orange and brown; pretty close to the deep red that the trees on her boarder planet tended to take, though still more metallic than she was used to.
Loud growls and barks echoed through the woods as Harrow got closer to where Nalah had taken her rest, the scent of adrenaline and fear mixed with a light copper started assaulting her senses. She picked up the pace, almost dropping the torch as she broke into a jog at the increasingly potent smells.
Closing in on where the tree lay, Harrow could see that blood had been spilled. One patch was obviously from a creature they had yet to run into, another was a small splatter of a familiar colour. A swift sniff confirmed her suspicion; Nalah had a run in with one of the more dangerous beasts they could have encountered. The smell of fear was strong, but not as intense as terror. It wasn’t the grey monster that had decimated the base. Which means that Harrow had no idea what could have injured Nalah, nor how bad the injury was, though the limited spill suggested a more minor wound.
A whining yip was head further in the woods while Harrow was working out the likelihood that her assistance would merely hinder the scout, making the decision for her. She stuck the torch between two rocks so as not to cause a forest fire yet still be lit should the threat be minor enough for them to continue. A few heavy steps and she sprinted towards the increasing volume of combat.
It wasn’t very far away that she passed the first corpse; a quadruped beast of yellow and plant camouflage. The upper third of its body seemed to blend from fur into a rougher textured skin that wouldn’t be out of place against the mossier sections of foliage was shredded by cuts. The second corpse was accompanied by a larger splatter of Nalah’s blood, the killing blow being the entire throat of the beast being ripped out with little other damage done.
Harrow passed by a larger tree, some three times the width of the rest, as she caught sight of Nalah piercing the third beast through the chest with a spear-paw. It went limp on her arm until Nalah threw the body to the forest floor. Harrow was about to call out when the scout collapsed on the spot, likely succumbing to any injuries as the adrenaline wore off. Harrow rushed to her side, inspecting the damage before making any decisions. Nalah was unconscious. Several deep gashes scattered around her body leaked her crimson blood onto the leaves below at a worrying rate.
Harrow had to bring her back to the camp. With a lot of effort, she slung Nalah over her shoulder, her legs groaning under the added weight. Why did she skip PT? It would have actually paid off in a moment like this, but no, she had considered it a waste of time for someone who would only be behind a desk. Stupid. She could worry about her lack of fitness later, right now, something needed to be done quickly. She couldn’t keep this up for long, neither herself nor her injured pack-mate.
Nalah groaned, briefly coming to. “What... Ugh everything hurts.”
Harrow shifted the weight of her friend, struggling not to trip over roots and rocks. “Shush. You’re injured. I’m getting you back to the shelter to see how we can patch you up.”
“Ugh... No... No supplies. Camp’s no good.” She managed through grunts of pain with every other step. It might be possible that the beasts had broken a few ribs, based on the grunts only happening when her right step jolted her shoulder into Nalah’s abdomen. Harrow eased her right leg more with every step, reducing the impact at the cost of slowing her down slightly.
“We don’t have a choice. It’s either we get you to camp and pray something helps or you die out here.”
Nalah started going limp over Harrow’s shoulder, slipping in and out of it. “Pack... Biped’s pack. They’ll help.”
“You don’t know that!” Harrow shouted, starting to panic. Now was not the time to make wild assumptions!
“I don’t,” She admitted. “But... but it’s my best shot. Hey Harrow... you’re... you’re stronger... than you look, huh?” The words faltered and waned until Nalah lost consciousness again, her blood slowly building on Harrow’s shoulder and leaving a trail down her back.
“FINE!” Harrow yelled, stomping to stop her momentum and turning towards the direction of the complex. “If we both end up servants, you’re cleaning the toilets!” She broke into a laboured jog.
It luckily didn’t take very long to break into the hunting grounds that the biped used. Harrow looked for landmarks, desperately searching for any grouping of trees or strips of fabric that the biped used to note snare locations so as to orient herself. A small glimpse of blue amongst the orange and yellow caught her attention, a small strip tied to a branch a few feet above where the snare should be. With a direction solidified, she adjusted course and ran, ignoring the pain of another snare latching to her foot when she ripped it out of its placement.
A third snare a few minutes later sent her tumbling to the ground, her blind running ignoring any and all tells of the traps. Nalah sprawled on the ground, her arm bringing up in a white leg. Harrow raised herself off of her face to see Pan staring at the two of them wide-eyed.
“H-Harrow? Wh-what... What happened to Nalah? Oh she's... JOSEPH!” Pan stuttered, eventually yelling for the biped, who ran up from somewhere nearby. He took one look at the state Nalah was in and threw her over his own shoulder, saying something to Pan before bolting away with the Lilhun in paw.
Harrow forced herself out of her daze. “Pan, she’s hurt. She needs help, we can’t... We don’t have the supplies!”
Pan reached down and gently helped Harrow to her feet, speaking softly to hide her own mild panic. “He’s taking her to see Mama and Violet, don’t worry. They’ll patch her up as best they can.”
“I gotta stay with her, I brought her here.” Harrow stated, managing two steps before the searing pain in her foot forced her to fall again. Pan crouched down again, this time inspecting Harrow. Her eyes widened as she seen the deep gouges caused by the snares that had dug into her skin.
“Harrow, you need help, come on, use my shoulder. You’re not getting very far without it.” She said while switching to Harrow’s right side and hauling her up. Weird, Pan wasn’t this strong before. “Let’s go.”
“Pan?” Harrow asked through sharp breaths.
“Yes?”
“Are we going to be servants, too?”
Pan huffed a small laugh, re-securing Harrow’s arm over her shoulder as they walked. “I doubt it, Joseph’s not much for that kind of thing.” Harrow nodded, wincing every so often when her right foot placed slightly too much pressure.
“Pan?”
Pan hummed back in question.
“Who’s Mama and Violet? The insects?”
Pan stared off in the distance for a moment in thought. “Mama is a great and kind craftsman and carpenter. Violet is a lovely girl with far too much energy.” She let out a short but sweet laugh. “They’re also the rest of our family, so you’re in good paws.”
Harrow nodded, staring down at the ground for a few seconds. “Family, huh?”
Pan returned the nod much firmer. “They’re weird, eccentric, constantly talk about random and mundane things like it’s the most interesting thing in the world, and even though I can't understand half of them, they make some of the best conversational partners I have ever met. They’re a good family.”
Harrow returned her gaze to the crunching undergrowth. “It sounds nice. Is it okay if we intrude?”
Pan giggled, the complex coming into view. “Welcome to our den, Harrow.”