"That... Was a little close." Zildra's voice was tense, as she rapidly slithered down the halls, and Tilda couldn't help but agree. She could see them, from the small gap in the bookshelves they'd hidden behind, and appraise them. If it hadn't been for that Mimic, they would have been found. And killed easily.

"Magic weapons... Tilda saw them properly this time." Her voice is low, quiet. And Zildra nods.

"I've... Always hidden from adventurers. As far away as possible. The few you saw were ones who found me, and I almost died to two of them."

"Tilda doesn't blame you. Tilda thinks..." Tilda's mind races, as rapidly as they weave between slimes, toward the stairs Zildra knows. "Tilda thinks... That we should go forward as quickly as we can. We can slow down later, but for now... The place Zildra used to live. As quickly as possible. Definitely two floors down by tomorrow."

Zildra nods. If it weren't for the fact that she knew they needed to get stronger before they reached the 8th floor, she would run further. Deeper, there were monsters who could distract parties for longer, more places to hide. But for now, the stairs. Nothing but slimes in the way, from now until there. Occasionally, Tildra would leap from Zildra's arms to punch a slime on the ceiling, or a couple on the floor, and Zildra would briefly stop.

Tilda was cute. But Tilda was also powerful. She hadn't used her magic so far, and her hands were almost constantly tattered, but she took it all with a stoic look, and snuggled into Zildra's arms when it was time to move again.

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Zildra chuckled, and Tilda looked up at her, tilting her head. "Ah, nothing... I was just thinking about how cute you are."

Dolls, cloth or otherwise, cannot blush. But Tilda fidgeted, and Zildra could tell she was embarassed.

And, inside, Zildra was a little embarassed too.

Mommy.

At first, she'd laughed. It was clear from the way Tilda shook their head weakly that this was a word they didn't want to say. But even though she knew Tilda wouldn't like this thought, and that Tilda was the one doing the protecting, the word... Started to feel right.

Tilda was, compared to her, a child, a monster barely a day or two old, she guessed. And she was cute. And Tilda had read, from diaries and stories she had picked up, left behind by monsters who thought, but weren't interested in books (or didn't understand them) that parents thought their children were cute.

Not a rule, but... Generally.

The stairs were in view, and Tilda nodded with satisfaction, looking up at Zildra. "Forward. Tilda and Zildra can go forward." And then, she tilted her head, and frowned. "Are there... More corridors?"

Zildra wondered what this question meant. She understood slimes. She understood dead ends, but... Well...

"The 6th floor, yes. The 7th floor, not so much. The 8th floor, not so much either. I'd... Have to see the maps to be sure."

Tilda grimaced. "Tilda... Is tired of corridors."

Zildra couldn't help but laugh, and Tilda's gaze tried to pierce her with annoyance. But she understood, in a sense.

The same thing. Over and over. A day the same as the last, with the same thoughts, the same fears... She could see why Tilda thought of corridors, if she put it like that. There were few rooms in the 5th floor. Just... Corridors.

Still, Zildra looked down at Tilda, slowly crawling down the stairs, and spoke.

"Corridors still lead forward. Mostly."

Tilda looked less irritable. But she didn't look convinced either. And Zildra somehow managed to hold back her laughter.