Chapter 99: Moving Forward
He awoke sometime late in the night. The moonlight filtering through the hexagonal skylights was just a blur in his squinted eyes. He wasn’t sure why he was in the base, but there was warmth in his arms, and he was still pretty sore for some reason, so his mind disregarded the oddity and urged him to go back to sleep. He ran his fingers over the fur, Pan’s coat feeling a little bit rougher than usual, her stature taller than he was used to. The scar on her stomach felt different too...
He cautiously opened his eyes, peering down to double check what his mind was telling him.
Sunny slept soundly, though he couldn’t for the life of him remember why the Grand Huntress was sharing a bed with him. A secondary scan of his surroundings proved that wasn’t the case either, the floor turned into a sleeping spot with only a pelt on it to cushion the area. He rolled away, his face contorting in pain.
His ribs hurt, his back stung, his forehead was a bit swollen, and his leg felt like he had gotten stabbed by some asshole with a hacksaw. Bruises made themselves known, small lacerations tensed and stretched uncomfortably. It took a moment to remove himself from Sunundra—unwilling to continue using the Lilhun as an unconscious replacement for his white-furred fiancee - but he was able to properly confirm where he was.
From what he could pick out, it looked like he was maybe in Nalah’s room, though the obscured view out of the window was another reminder that he was away from home. Healroot by the bundle appeared to be freshly harvested nearby, water droplets still coating the plants. Some unidentifiable syringes had been discarded next to them. His Wraith armour was laid aside next to his shirt in the corner, and a few blinks were required to fully register what that meant.
Sure enough, he was down to his pants—one of the legs having been cut off at the knee to reveal the limb plastered in the glowing bandage. His arms were mostly spared the treatment, but he was more concerned with how he had got there to begin with.
There was an attack. He was sent down to the tunnels to help gather the Atmo and keep them out of harm’s way. The ceiling collapsed, then he had to run from a group. He...
His stomach pulled. He had been the last one standing. He should have been thrilled, the ones who tried to kill him—kill Daisy and the rest of the Atmo—had failed, but he couldn’t get past the fact that he had to cross the line to do it.
Could he have just knocked them unconscious? Maybe, but it didn’t matter now. He killed people, not even hesitating on the last one.
He was caught between being glad he had protected the young Queen, and guilty at how far he had gone. Guilty that he was so relieved.
He unsteadily got to his feet, his body protesting the lack of rest. His tongue failed to wet his lips. Water sounded like a good idea. He could process things a bit at a time, but a drink would come first.
He opened the door to the dormitory wing, navigating the discordant hallway—his expectations clashing against what he saw. He pushed through the side exit in the corridor, the easing rainfall cooling the air instead of stinging the skin. Gone was the farmland and garden he had grown used to seeing out of the similar doorway. Absent was the tempering fire that usually had someone tending to it. There was no Harrow or Sahari helping out with prototypes of whatever the next ironwood project was, nor smouldering cinders informing him that true night had fallen, and the pack had gone to sleep.
In its place was the surprisingly mundane picnic area he had seen when he first met Sunundra. Benches and tables were placed delicately around the grounded section, a long railing lining the edge of the overhang. The river reported its strength below, the dull roaring of turbulent water emboldened by rain filling the air with an ambience that only slightly betrayed the expectations of the diffused moonlight. The lasting precipitation sapped the excess warmth from the late summer night, hinting at autumn.
He let the falling water wash over him, sweat from his chase that had been left to dry replaced by tepid precipitation. It felt nice.
The unfortunate part was his expectation of more being brought to rest, the desire to tip his head back and deal with the parched pallet falling flat. It wouldn’t work—not in any amount of time he was willing to stand, anyway.
An attempt to sigh left him coughing, the air irritating his already dehydrated throat. He accepted the water-skin handed to him from the side without paying attention, but the soothing liquid he quickly consumed was a godsend. He took several deep gulps before holding it out towards whoever offered it, his eyes following after a second.
Tel accepted it, securing it to her vest before staring at him in equal parts irritation and worry. He smiled, raising out an arm in a silent request for a hug that went unheeded.
“You were brought back to us by the Atmo,” she started flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. “Unconscious and covered in blood.”
He let the limb drop, wincing from both the jolt and her tone. “That explains waking up cuddling into Sunny, I guess.”
“Quite,” she drawled. “You were cut, burned, bruised, and exhausted. You needed several blood stimulants and more medical aids than I care to remember.”
He frowned, looking down at the healroot on his leg. “I mean, I remember my leg getting messed up and a cut on my forehead, but it couldn’t have been that bad.”
She took a step forward, jabbing a retracted claw into his chest. “You suffered a gash across your back, your armour was in tatters, and were walking the line between life and the Void by the time the Queen brought you back.”
“Tel, I’m fine,” he assured her, only grimacing a bit as he tapped his foot on the ground. Her scowl intensified.
“Because you have been stitched up and injected with very limited medical supplies.” Her building fury faltered, redirected towards a self-deprecating tone. “Were it not for the Grand Huntress knowing which would serve you, then you would have many suns of recovery to come.”
He tried to offer her comfort, his psyche latching onto his distressed fiancee over his own guilt. He pulled her into a hug, tugging upwards to force her jaw over his shoulder and tightening his hold.
“Look, I’m here now, and I’m okay. A little beat up, but otherwise alright.” He rubbed her back stubbornly until he felt some of her tension melt away. His mind brought back the reason everything happened to begin with. He stiffened, pushing her to arm’s length. His hands wandered her face and arms to check for wounds. “Are you okay? Is the other pack still attacking? Is it a siege?”
“Joseph.”
“What about the Atmo, are they alright? Leader and Tech? The ship?”
Two paws flicked to capture his face between them, Tel forcing him in for a deep kiss that sapped his strength before resting her forehead against his own.
“The Atmo are safe. Our escorts to the settlement are bruised, but otherwise fine. The ship is unscathed.” She glared at him when he tried to reiterate his first set of questions. “There are no more assailants remaining.”
“What, no one? What about whoever got away?”
She closed her eyes, exhaling a long breath. “There were none left to flee.”
He furrowed his brow, struggling to connect a threat big enough to involve the entire settlement so thoroughly, with them just being...gone. He shunted his mouth closed when Tel backed away to gesture over the roof. His gaze following the indicated direction, he saw large plumes of black, sickly smoke billowing from some distant fire.
“Tel?” he asked absently, slack-jawed at whatever had caused such an inferno so as to be seen in the lower lighting. The question he wanted an answer to fell aside, another seeking resolution. “How do you deal with killing people? How do you cope knowing that, if you had been more careful, or skilled, you could have spared them. How can you end a life without feeling guilty? Without it tearing you apart?”
Her silence matched his own. He didn’t know why he had asked that—be it seeking some sense of justification from one who seemed to revel in violence, or maybe learning something otherwise hidden about the grey-furred female. Something to suggest that she didn’t just enjoy slaughter for the sake of it. Either way, it was a while before he turned to receive his answer, his expression pleading for something to work with. To latch onto. To quell his remorse.
Her brooding glare downwards surprised him, but not as much as her words lacquered with regret, much like his own.
“I do not dwell on removing the attachments of those who I must.”
“There has to be a trick to it, right?” he pressed quietly. She glanced back up at him, holding his gaze before blinking it away to the clouds above.
“There is no ‘trick’ to comforting your own sensibilities, only resolve in your chosen action.” She paced towards the railing over the river slowly, her voice just barely loud enough for him to hear over the light drumming of rain. “Mistakes are easy to make, Joseph. It is fixing them that proves difficult.”
He clenched his fists, self-hatred seeking an outlet through directionless heat in his voice. “That’s why I don’t want to make a mistake, Tel. Look at Jax! It took several of you to haul me off of him when I was fully ready to kill him, and he’s become one of my best friends—my family.”
She peered over her shoulder. Her half-lidded eyes showed no concern for his plight, but annoyance. “The mistake is letting one who should have been removed live. A life taken before its time—possible future ally or not—is something determined by circumstance. It is a decision made based on the situation at paw. Jax was a fortunate comeuppance, but not one you should expect. No, action taken through necessity is not sin, Joseph.”
He barked a dry laugh, his hands shaking as he still felt the CARD in his grip. His fist pushing the skull off his bracer. The crossbow recoil through his arms.
“I shouldn’t be killing anyone, Tel.”
She spun towards him on her pad, a furious expression dragging her muzzle into a snarl as she marched up to him. “Then Pan and myself would be devoid our mate. You would be dead in the catacombs along with however many Atmo are down there, as well as the kit you saved. Were you not to act, then everything you promised Violet would be much like dust in the wind, naught but pain and loneliness left in its wake.”
Her breath felt like a scorching wind against his face, the growl in her throat clipping her words. “You removed that which threatened your kin, your den, your pack, and your mates. You do not regret doing it; you regret not feeling worse!” She thumped her fist into his sternum, her near-shouting tempering into a disdainful whisper. “You worry you would act against those who are not threats, Joseph.”
A grimace returned to his face. “Who’s to say where it’ll stop if I let it go, Tel?”
“You!” she barked in frustration, her arms flung outward. “You decide. You decide for yourself, Pan, Sahari, the Wraiths, and myself!”
“I can’t always be there to stop everything.”
“Apparently you need not,” she grumbled, her anger losing steam. He blinked in surprise as she relaxed her legs to press her head into his chest. “There is a rather clear distinction between those who are threats or not. It has been disorienting, feeling no caution towards those who I otherwise would, uninfluenced.”
His mind whirred like old machinery as it tried to place her statement with something he heard earlier in the day. “Wait, is this about what Sunny said? You think you’re—”
“I don’t know, Joseph,” she interrupted in defeat, some levity returning after a moment as she pulled back to gaze at him with a tired expression. “Would it be wrong for me to suspect?”
He shook his head slowly, pursing his lips and inhaling deeply. “I don’t know either, Tel. I just don’t want something to happen to me and the two...well, three of you decide that life isn’t worth it,” he admitted, averting his eyes. “Sahari has already lost one, Pan is a defect... I can’t keep adding to how much follows after me if—“
She placed a paw on his jaw. “I need not a bond to decide that life without you is meaningless.”
The long touch of their lips burned away what remained of his inner turmoil for the time being, replacing it with a sense of ease he only felt with his mates. It still felt hollow without Pan there, but in no way did it detract his affection for Tel. His heart slowed as they sank into each other, separating with calm breaths. A playful smile tinted her muzzle, issues resolved or shelved.
“So, you were embracing Sunundra, no?” she ribbed teasingly, her grin widening as he finally registered the fact. “Seeking more defectives that do not sully my vow?”
“No, I was just... I...” He clamped his mouth shut, taking a moment to form a coherent response. Failing, he decided to abandon that sinking ship. “How’s Daisy?”
Tel’s ear flicked. “Daisy?”
“The Queen.”
“Ah. She has...” The Wraith frowned. “She has become rather taken with me.”
“Oh?” he drawled, prodding while trying to keep the amusement from his voice. The flat stare she gave him indicated that he wasn’t doing a very good job.
“Once you were...returned, I sought out what few stragglers remained. By the time I had finished, she was awaiting me and only parted for the moon shortly before you arrived.”
He ignored the implication of what she did after seeing him wounded. If Pan was keen on lecturing him for his stupid stunts, Tel was the silent scowl of disapproval. For once, it wasn’t his own hubris that ended with him hurt, so it wasn’t unimaginable that the grey-furred female had left to finish the job.
He accepted the answer reluctantly, a yawn stifled by his fist. “I just woke up and I’m still exhausted. What the hell did you guys stick me with?”
“Unfortunately, I am not well versed in such subjects,” Tel replied with a shrug. “Perhaps Harrow would be the one whom you should ask?”
He nodded, fighting off a repeat inhale. “I’ll ask Sunny in the morning. Do we have somewhere to crash? I don’t want to impose on her and I’m guessing you’re as tired as I am. Actually, I’m surprised you let her inject me with anything.”
She smiled weakly. “She would not harm you.”
“You sound confident,” he remarked, a brow raised.
“You were inquiring about our rest?” she deflected quickly. “Much of the settlement suffered from a short artillery strike. Most of those who lost their dens are resting within the outpost hub.”
“Tight quarters.”
“Quite.”
He glanced skyward as the rain turned to mere mist, the moon peering between a break in the cloud coverage. “Where do we sleep? Warehouse? I don’t really want to intrude more than we have to.”
Tel smirked. “The privacy would be appreciated.”
“Priva— Tel, no,” he warned, recognizing the look in her eye. She tipped his chin up, dragging the claw gingerly down his throat, her voice almost molten.
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“My male defends his charges, I dispose of those whom he deems threats, I finish those who dare harm him, and I get to set off the largest explosive this planet has ever known while doing it.” She nibbled at his neck, her grin tinting her warm breath in his ear. “I have waited long enough, my male. Surely you do not wish to deny me?”
Joseph swallowed, trying for the life of him not to let it get to him. It was a valiant effort of wit, will, and pure determination. He would not be broken. He was still recovering from his injuries, still in the middle of a settlement that had just seen a massive attack, and still needed time to process the events since he got here. The choice was easy.
“Warehouse it is.”
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Bratik pushed his chair to the other side of the small temple, putting away the extra candles after replacing those that had burned too low. Sorren was busy consulting with another of the pack, so he had taken to touching up the place of worship as best he could.
His arm was feeling good, though it occasionally hitched at awkward angles. It wasn’t enough to hinder him from sun to sun, but there were moons where rest was slightly more difficult to achieve because of it.
His leg wasn’t doing quite as well. Though he could use crutches without much difficulty, the ‘wheelchair’ that the Grand Hunter had made for him served its purpose admirably—and saved him the effort of needing to pick himself up when he inevitably fell otherwise. At first, he was rather morose about his new disability, but life had continued regardless, and none judged him for the injury he sustained saving his kin. It gave him great peace to know that the pack still valued him. Even in his present state.
Sorren entered the warmly lit room, the sliding shutters on the windows closed most of the way to allow the flickering illumination of the candles to permeate. His black and yellow-patched fur both blended and contrasted the ambience, but the loving smile always stood out. Bratik turned his wheelchair to face his mate, resting his paws in his lap.
“Another counsel about the offer?”
The priest nodded, bending to give his ashen-furred mate a hug before taking a seat on a bench and producing a sheet of wood and a quill, scratching down whatever it was he needed to make note of.
“It seems that many fear losing the protection of the Guardian were they to accept,” he explained, his pleased tone strained by the sympathetic concern on his face. “Even those who wish to go have begun to voice their indecisiveness.”
“They worry of the Hunt Mother’s judgment?”
“That as well,” Sorren conceded, gesturing to an inkwell on a nearby table. Bratik fetched it for him, happy to be of assistance—even if it was only in such small manners. “They fear what will become of them in either case, but the few who wished to reintegrate have started finding friends in those they reside with now. One even voiced their worry for an Atmo kit.”
Bratik relaxed at hearing the fulfillment in his mate’s voice, his shoulders losing whatever tension they held. “I expect the Grand Hunter will be pleased to know that his chosen are being accepted.”
The patch-furred male chortled. “It is rather appropriate for him to select such a people, no? Their blades are tough and sharp, their bodies hardy and strong, yet their temperament is kind and accepting.”
“As the greymaw has proven, they are willing to use their strengths to defend their kin as well,” Bratik added.
“Much like the Guardian,” Sorren agreed, finishing his note and placing the materials to the side.
“You are aware how much he dislikes being called such,” the ash-furred male warned teasingly. The priest shook his head.
“If another exists who is the embodiment of what our people need in such trying times, I will defer to them. Until that occurs, we must place our faith in the Hunt Mother’s selection.”
Bratik nodded, glancing beyond the sliver of an open window to view the pack outside. He watched some of the workers jeer and poke at each other, jovial in their display. An adult Atmo picked up one of the rowdier Lilhuns, depositing them on their arachnid abdomen before chittering their amusement as the male took the opportunity to lounge. The others in the group laughed, shouting for their own turn being carried around.
“When were we such a happy people, Sorren?” he asked wistfully. “When was meeting aliens last viewed as a time to rejoice, rather than arm oneself?”
His mate’s smile faltered. “Quite some time ago now, I would imagine.”
The ex-High Hunter turned back to his mate. “Do our kin speak of the Atmo with you?”
“They do,” Sorren confirmed, a thankful look given for switching the topic. “Some ask if the Hunt Mother cares for them as well. Others ponder their place in the Great Hunt. I was queried as to if the UM would accept them as kin or not, actually.”
“What do you say to such questions?”
The male shrugged his shoulders. “I know not what the Hunt Mother plans for us, but I feel giving her gifts to the Guardian—and in turn, providing us with new kin—is what she would have us embrace. I pray that we follow her guidance justly.”
A knock at the door surprised them, Sorren calling out to confirm that they were inside. It opened, Atrox entering the room with a towering blue Atmo waving with her joint in greeting.
“Atrox, Mama, welcome!” Bratik greeted cheerily, pleased to see the duo return again. “I take it you have come to continue your work?”
The brown-furred male bowed his head towards Sorren, smiling broadly at the two of them. “We have indeed! We will have completed decorating the walls this sun, by my estimate.”
“Will you be continuing with the outside of the Hall after?” the priest inquired. Atrox chuckled, gesturing to his large company.
“Mama has started a project of her own, so this will be the last we work on together until that is finished.” The artist shook his head. “A shame, really.”
“Shame?”
Atrox laughed when Mama used her massive blade to shove him, her chittering filling the room in a comforting way. “It is rare to find those that appreciate true beauty like her. I will be forced to sit on my paws and await when she is able to rejoin me.”
“I see yourself with her more than your own mates, Atrox,” Bratik ribbed, rolling over to pat the Atmo fondly. Mama lowered herself to give him a gentle hug, much like she was inclined to give all who were receptive. The brown-furred male snorted.
“I have heard their complaints about such as well, worry not,” he assured with a sigh. “I will use this upcoming break to rectify the disparity. It is always so enticing to pursue the arts with another, that I often forget myself.”
“Perhaps the Guardian might deliver you other styles?” Sorren proposed, standing to receive his own embrace from the Atmo.
“One can only wish for such a boon by one blessed by the Hunt Mother,” Atrox hedged with a shrug. They all knew that it wasn’t an area that the Grand Hunter dabbled in, but there might be something to pursue anyway. The mated pair bid their farewells to the others, leaving them with time and space in which to work. Sorren stood behind the chair and assisted Bratik along the pathways beaten flat by traversal and consideration from the pack.
“While we are free, is there anything you would wish to do?”
Bratik thought for a moment, smiling warmly as he remembered the first time he was able to properly move after being rescued by the Guardian. The first time he could feel the Hunt Mother’s love in the gift he received. As his purpose became clear.
“I would like to see the garden.”
Sorren kissed his cheek, amusement tinting his voice as affection carried it clearly. “Then we shall find a comfortable spot in which to relax.”
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The blue-furred female finished her cleaning for the sun. The instruction for the few tasked with working under her had completed smoothly, her new authority expediting the process in a way. They had been shown how to properly care for the den of the Grand Hunter, but because of the nature of the building in which they were performing in, Scarlet had accompanied them under the guise of assistance.
It wasn’t as if the female was insufficient—not by any means—but it was becoming worrisome just how used to the Blade’s presence Volta had gotten.
What once was an unnerving experience was now as common as doing her work at all. Besides the occasional poke and prod, Scarlet was quick to do her task efficiently and thoroughly, leaving the cleaner without much to say. The only time it deviated from such a peaceful silence was when the dark red-furred female’s paws touched and lingered covertly while she was explaining to others who did not know the processes as well. It left her annoyed that she needed to ignore such—lest her competence in her surprise promotion be called into question—yet also created a lasting heat in her stomach.
She shook off the inappropriate line of thought as she walked past several dens in the settlement towards her next destination alone. Kaslin was always stationed with Toril, but her services were occasionally required to tidy the aftermath of whatever experiments that the enigmatic chemist left in his wake.
She entered the ‘lab’—a newer construction purpose-built to deal with whatever the tail-less male might concoct for use around the settlement. Though the output so far had been limited to purely helpful things such as rudimentary cleaners and acids to assist in treatment of leathers, there was always something being done in the background that none were privy to. For whatever reason, the Grand Hunter never seemed to be overly curious about it.
The room wasn’t as bad as she was expecting—the cause becoming rather clear once she spotted the Blade-turned-servant organizing the scattered containers of varying substances, the petite bronze-furred female only tipping an ear in Volta’s direction as she continued unhindered.
“Hello,” the cleaner voiced hesitantly, a cursory glance confirming the absence of the ex-Grand Hunter and his mate. “Have they left?”
“They have,” Kaslin confirmed, the slightest movement of her paws suggesting she had been collecting something in a separate container. The servant turned to face the new occupant of the room, a subtle displacement of her apron outlining where an item had been stashed. If it wasn’t for how much time Volta spent around the ‘girls,’ then she might not have noticed at all. As it was, she could probably draw the outfit from memory down to the specific quirks of each female’s attire.
It had absolutely nothing to do with her enjoyment of how it fit to their figures. None.
Volta observed the space, deciding that it would be a rather quick job to complete before she set about seeing if Huntress Pan was in need of assistance in anything. If she was lucky, then perhaps she would be able to have a meal with the female. If not, then at least pass some time conversing. There were certainly worse outcomes.
“I will return with my supplies. It would be wise for me to utilize the time to clean.”
“That will not be required, mistress Volta,” Kaslin denied, bowing deferentially. “Toril has requested that only the supplies were to be arranged into their proper places.”
“I see,” she replied, dragging the words out in uncertainty. She sighed. At the end of the Sun, they answered directly to those above her, and as such, were far from her responsibility beyond their training. “So be it. Do request of him to inform me when he would like his space tidied next.”
“Of course, mistress Volta. Thank you for your understanding.”
The blue-furred female nodded, closing the door behind her and shaking her head. They were an odd bunch, no matter how you looked at it. Were it not for only a few knowing the true nature of them, she would probably find someone to complain to. Unfortunately, the only ones who were aware that it was Blades cleaning their dens and assisting with the banality around the settlement were those who had assigned them to such.
No matter. It was not her duty to criticize those who answer to the Grand Hunter, much less any who had the trust of the Paw.
Her walk to find the Huntress was waylaid by a familiar touch to her rear, her quick turn meeting the amused smirk of Scarlet. The dark red-furred female bowed politely, though her tone was purely one of sarcasm.
“Mistress Volta, your reactions continue to improve by the sun.”
She ignored the blush creeping up her cheeks, tinting her blue fur a slight purple. A claw was extended to chastise the female. “Is it necessary that you do such things?”
Scarlet rose, tilting her head innocently, the smile never faltering. “My deepest apologies, mistress Volta. I simply saw you unoccupied and thought it prudent to offer my assistance should a task arise.”
“I am not unoccupied,” she refuted firmly, her glare shifting away when the Blade met it.
“Of course, mistress Volta. If you are busy, then allow this low one to offer her services.”
“There is nothing to assist with.”
The dark red-furred female closed her eyes and resumed her usually reserved posture, her paws folded over her lap. “Forgive me for my presumptuous insinuation that you would be unable to manage your tasks. May I inquire as to your work?”
Volta opened her muzzle to respond, her voice stalling as she had to face the fact that she was wandering aimlessly in search of a female that felt no more towards her than basic gratitude. Her expression fell slightly to match her more sardonic tone.
“I suppose I am merely pursuing the unobtainable. I hardly need another to help with that.”
Scarlet opened her eyes in surprise, brow furrowing for a moment. She thought for a while, speaking when the cleaner went to excuse herself.
“Would you like to accompany me for a meal?”
Volta paused mid-step as she made to walk away, turning to eye the female doubtfully. “Why?”
The Blade looked downward. “It is simply an invitation of company. Nothing more.”
She drew a breath, catching sight of Huntress Pan spending time with her adoptive kit as the two went about the settlement. A pang of loss rippled through her, but she knew from the start that her desire to spend time with the white-furred female was bred from the wish to be needed. Her regard turned back to the surprisingly quiet Scarlet. Here she was, pining for a female who had openly denied her advances, and she was about to reject a simple offer of sociability from one of the few whom she spoke with.
Volta wasn’t against the pack or any of those who it consists of, but she hadn’t exactly made much effort to converse with those around her. In a way—a twisted, sad sort of way—Scarlet was the closest thing she had to an actual friend.
She exhaled through her nose, shoulders dropping as confrontation left her. “Okay.”
Scarlet blinked. “Yes?”
The cleaner nodded reluctantly. “It would hardly be an inopportune time to eat.”
Scarlet smiled, biting back the expression and replacing it with her normal impassive facade, bowing again. “Of course, mistress Volta.”
The blue-furred female couldn’t stop the faintest show of amusement, motioning for the Blade to lead the way.
Nor could she help but notice the smallest of spring in Scarlet’s step.
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“Do we have everything?” Joseph asked, patting his bag to check for any loose bindings as he squinted to keep the sun out of his eyes. People were looking at him more now that they could see him without his coat on, but their gazes flicked to his legs and recognized him as something they’d seen before. His armour was stuffed in the bottom of his luggage—as bulky as it was—since the damage had rendered it useless. Though, he would appreciate not having his limbs ogled by every new group.
Most of his wounds had sealed overnight thanks to whatever Sunundra had injected him with, but asking about it proved to be an exercise in futility. Not because she didn’t know what they were, but because the names were jargon that his Lilhun couldn’t even begin to parse, let alone replicate. He did keep the syringes for Harrow to reference, however; if anyone would know how to turn the mind-numbing script and wording into something he could at least pretend to understand, it was probably her.
Tech and Leader stood outside the outpost with them, none complaining about the soldiers being armed so close to the den of the Grand Huntress. It seemed that enough people watched them defend the settlement that they doubted the two would use them for anything. Tel was carrying a bit more than him—her collection of items including the sniper rifle that she acquired at some point. The rest was some additional healroot to swap out the bandages on his leg, since the burned skin didn’t react quite as favourably to his treatment. It was healing, just not as fast.
He still hadn’t seen Sunny after waking up with her wrapped in his arms, but given his habit of latching onto anyone within reach while he slept, he was willing to wager that he pretty much trapped her as she was tending to him. With the settlement as damaged as it was, he wouldn’t be surprised to find out that she was spending the next few weeks just leading the repair effort and holding funerals for the deceased. There was a lot to do.
“Our supplies have been collected,” Tel confirmed, an unusual ease present in her posture. Her ears didn’t swivel towards every sound, her eyes stayed stationary instead of flicking between those who walked by, and a paw rested lazily on her hip—the other dangling at her side. She looked completely relaxed for a change, only languidly watching the comings and goings of various pack members as they set about recovering from the attack.
Tech and Leader eyed the Wraith warily, but voiced their confirmations to the query regardless. Both of them looked like they had taken a mud bath, then struggled to clean off the result. Other than that, Tel was right—they seemed fine enough. He slung the bag over his shoulder, resisting the wince that came from slapping a fresh scar with a few dozen pounds of supplies.
“Well, I suppose we should get going then,” he sighed, glancing over at the warehouse district across the distant bridge. He wanted to see Daisy again to check up on her and say goodbye, but he didn’t have time to wander the catacombs again—not that he was in a hurry to go back down there. He would just have to settle for visiting some time with Violet, assuming he ever got the chance. Who knew, with the UM coming by, maybe they’d be willing to bring him.
Signalling their agreement, Leader walked off ahead of them, the rest of the group following.
The settlement looked in decent enough shape until they had gotten towards the outermost of the densely packed structures, several dens scarred and shattered where purported artillery had landed. He dragged his eyes away from a couple being removed from one such building, his stomach turning.
Surprisingly, it wasn’t in disgust for what happened, nor because it reminded him again of what he had done, but because he knew that more people were dead under orders. Because someone wanted power at the cost of those struggling to get by.
Because of someone he didn’t—
He bumped into Leader, the dark green-furred male having stopped abruptly in their path. Joseph backed off a step, rubbing his nose.
“What’s up? Forget something?”
The soldier huffed in amusement, pointing near the edge of the fence towards their ship. A Lilhun dressed in fairly revealing clothing leaned against the wooden barricade next to a yellow insect. Joseph walked onward past the group, confusion on his face. They waited until he was close to call out to him.
“It seems that someone wished to accompany you,” Sunundra quipped with a loose paw waved to Daisy. The Atmo in question bounced in excitement at seeing him up and walking, but refrained from tackling him until he spread an arm to welcome it. He grunted quietly as she hugged him as hard as she could.
“I can’t just take the Queen, Sunny,” he explained, keeping his tone friendly. The Grand Huntress scoffed.
“Then it is quite the fortunate development that you are not the one doing such.”
His brow furrowed. “They need her for the nest, and you’re needed here for your pack.”
The grey and pale yellow-furred female waved him off. “I have taken your advice, Joe.”
She pointed to a particularly rough patch of the settlement, his eyes widening when he spotted what she wanted him to see.
Atmo were being escorted to the woods past the craters, and returning with new trees to be quickly processed and used as material for reconstruction. None of the pack looked fearful or hostile, though a few respectfully kept their distance.
“How...”
She bumped off the fence, placing a paw to his shoulder. “Several holes were opened into their nest, Joseph. The Atmo set about tending to the wounded as you showed the Queen. Many lives were saved by them, and the pack recognized as much. Once they were aware of the damage we sustained, they insisted on helping.” Her arm fell to her side, a warmth to her voice. “I have spent the early sun directing them to work with the Atmo. After all they have done for us, only the most xenophobic refused, and they were quickly put in their place by those who would otherwise rest alone these moons.”
“But...don’t you need to stay back? Do you have a Paw to keep watch while you’re gone? What about the other Atmo?”
She shook her head, gesturing to Daisy. “I know not what was said, but this one explained the circumstances and was happily escorted here before you arrived.” She drew a breath. “As for myself? I have put Keet and Malaxus in charge in the meantime. They are an interesting duo, but competent enough.”
“No Paw?” he asked curiously, earning a shrug in return.
“There was never a need,” she explained flatly. “They will be busy rebuilding and the Heads know better than to betray me. In addition, this trip will also serve as the final consideration as to the future of the pack.”
“If you’ll reintegrate or not,” he surmised.
Sunundra nodded. “That is the state of things. We will be visiting for some suns before making a decision and returning here. My apologies for imposing.”
Joseph looked for Daisy, surprised to see her go missing so quickly. He spotted her clinging to Tel after a few seconds, drawing a laugh as he watched the Wraith flip between petting the Atmo and trying to free herself. He grinned, patting the Grand Huntress on the back.
“We’ll be happy to have a friend over, and Violet will be excited to meet her sister.”
The female smiled.
“I am happy to be that friend, Joe.”