We continued through the caves, which had broken into numerous small side galleries where significant bodies of water gathered, though it was too dark to assess their proper depths.

“The water’s probably too cold to bathe in,” Vernie warned me as she caught me eyeing a rather serene-looking pool.

“I prefer privacy anyway…” I wasn’t sure I could dismiss our forceful tour guides. And trying to get the stench off now would be a grand exercise in pointlessness.

“Thanks… for believing me earlier. I know I haven’t earned your trust yet, but–”

“That’s not true,” I interjected guiltily. “I do trust you… I was just, you know.” Annoyed that you would even think that Nora might not be trustworthy. But I supposed that from her point of view, an alien dark mage might be somewhat suspicious…

“I told you not to, though!”

“Yeah, well, that doesn’t mean I have to listen.” I shrugged, taking a seat as we took another break.

“Can I keep calling you Rae-Rae? Holy Captain is too formal.”

“...I never said you couldn’t.”

She cleared her throat and continued, more relaxed now. “I know they stink, but they’re great sentries. I’ve been giving them food in exchange for alerting the gang about potential slave raids. Of course, they just informed us about anyone coming back down the other way into the forest. But still, they work for cheap!” She pulled out a bag of old apples and tossed it to our escorts. They tore the bag apart, snapping up the contents in seconds. Two of them savagely fought over the last apple, while a third one, scrawnier than the rest, looked onward with hopeless desire. The Matriarch snorted loudly, inspiring the bigger two to split it in half to share.

Nora held out an apple of her own carefully, offering it to the third one. He sniffed it tentatively, then plucked it out of her hand. Nora then turned her piercing gaze towards me. “Malodorous mustelids… they really do look like ‘the toxic trio of tyranny’… don’t they?”

The toxic trio of tyranny. Three particularly obnoxious girls with high-pitched voices we had the displeasure of knowing back in high school. They had a terrible habit of humiliating their peers publicly for likes on social media. They were also the ones who used to call Nora a shameful little ankle-biter. Me? I was an ‘ugly goliath’. It didn’t mean anything to me, though, since I had never considered myself ugly. Awkward? Sure. Weird? Yeah. But ugly? I mean, as long as I kept somewhat covered… I didn’t think I was ugly-ugly. And goliath? Well, if you’re tall, you’re tall. It’s just simple genetics and a bit of RNG. Just give up on finding pants that are long enough. While absently scratching my head, I focused more on Nora’s observation, which gave me a bit of déjà vu. Have we discussed their similarities before?

“Yeah, I totally see it,” I finally responded. “It’s the screeching chitters and that heavy, clumping mascara they used to wear. But honestly, I think these guys are nicer than them, so… I can’t… think of them as demonic. I mean, I’ll admit they seemed rather rabid at first, but after I discharged the Matriarch’s animus with a punch, she–”

“You did what?” Tetora interrupted me.

I quickly explained, to the best of my ability, anyway, about the dark miasma that had surrounded her and how I had counteracted it.

“Rae. Demonstrate your attack on me,” Tetora ordered.

“You want me to punch you…?”

“Yes! With amity! See if you can punch out the poison!” I had never heard anything so ridiculous come out of his mouth before.

“But I don’t see any animus around you…”

“Punch me!” Tetora insisted.

Since no one moved to stop me, I repeated my earlier performance with a glowing fist, aiming for his upper arm instead of his abdominal wounds, but to no effect.

“That was not a punch,” Tetora grunted. “Harder!”

“The punch isn’t the point!” I had pushed my amity straight into him just like I had done with the Matriarch. No reaction, nothing!

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“Just try again.” I switched sides, but again, nothing happened.

“You’re not doing it right. Do it again!”

Aleph finally stepped between us and put a hand on Tetora’s shoulder. “Could you tell me exactly why you are insisting on this idiocy?”

“I want to be sure I do not become enraged as she did,” Tetora gestured to the Matriarch. “I do not want to lose my ability to rationalize!” So you finally admit the mustelids also had such an ability…

“Your temper and intelligence are the same as always, " Aleph said, shaking his head. “Short and lacking.”

“What was that?!” Tetora demanded.

“Your evidence. You did not strike me for uttering a provoking verbal insult, so you are fine.”

Tetora blinked several times, then turned away, his tail swishing wildly. “Hmph!”

Nora cleared her throat in exasperation. “You were saying, Rae?”

“Oh, yeah. If we tell the holy knights about what happened, maybe they’ll…”

“They won’t stop,” Tetora muttered, his back still turned. “It’s part of their Purpose to kill demonic beasts.”

“To hell with some randomly assigned Purpose!” I screeched. “What about critical thinking skills?! Where is that in all of this?!”

“You’re a genius!” Nora suddenly stood up. Oh, I had never been accused of that before.

“What?”

“Critical thinking skills. Malodorous mustelids… are considered to be demonic beasts. Name, purpose. They’re historically linked. So, let’s just stop calling them by that name. That’s all. Then their purpose becomes, well, whatever. I say we just don’t bother giving them one at all.”

“What?” I repeated myself.

“Let’s just come up with a new name for them and leave it at that,” Nora repeated. I glanced at the mustelids.

“But we’re not allowed to assign those things, are we?” Also, how would that change anything?

“Relias is a priest, right? We’ll get him to finalize it. But first, let’s come up with a new name. Don’t want to have him work too hard and all…” Was she serious about all this? Does it work that way for er… animals, too?

I began to ponder. “Too bad we can’t ask them what they want to be called…” The whole thing with renaming people against their will was still prickly in my mind. If your name isn’t something you can identify with, why shouldn’t you be allowed to change it? I mean… through the proper process, of course. But what was the appropriate process here?

“Skreethi.” The Matriarch pointed directly at me.

I blinked. “Did she just—”

“Skreethi,” she insisted again, patting her belly.

“She just wants your apple,” Vernie explained with a shake of her head. “She knows there’s some left.” That was some pretty universal body language right there again… Are they just animals? I was beginning to doubt that demons had anything to do with these indeterminately intelligent creatures.

The others also began to mimic her, making noises that came very close to sounding like ‘skreethi’ while patting their bellies.

I pulled out yet another less-than-fresh apple I had saved from lunch and tossed it to her. She caught the apple quickly enough and downed it in just two bites. The others slumped some, but no one was in a position to argue with her about the serving size.

“Skreethi… doesn’t have any meaning to us, right?” Nora frowned. “But that actually might be a good name for them. No preconceived notions.” She opened her journal and clicked her pen audibly, which caused me some anachronistic anxiety. “We’ll get Relias to re-assign their purpose if they really need one, but let’s just list their discerning features.” She started writing while she spoke. “Matriarchal society. Communicates with vocal sounds and arm gestures. Observed using tools.”

“Tools? When?” I asked.

“They threw rocks, remember?”

“Oh, right.”

She drew a sketch in her journal and labeled it ‘Skreethi Matriarch.’

“Nora…” I frowned some, looking at her sketch.

“What? I’ll finish it up later. Pencils, oh, er, charcoal sticks, would be better for this, anyway.” She put the pen away quickly.

“The way you drew her…” She had outlined the Matriarch in the ‘cute woodland animal’ style, blunting her snout and enlarging her eyes while minimizing her teeth and numerous claws. She had also given her a full, pristine coat of speckled fur that gave her a plush, inviting look. “You’re taking an awful lot of creative license with this.”

“They’re gonna need the marketing,” she shrugged. “Think of it as a re-brand.”

“You really like them, huh?” Maybe she felt bad about wanting to incinerate them earlier?

“More than the toxic trio, so, yeah. This isn’t much, but maybe it’s a start. I’d hate to see them disappear.”

“I still think you need to warn people about their stench, at least,” I advised.

“Musk,” Nora corrected haughtily.

“Because… that sounds better?”

“Yep.”

Nora jotted a few more notes, then closed up the journal. “Lead the way, Skreethi Matriarch.”

The Matriarch, who had been lounging and completely ignoring the latter half of the discussion, stood up and stretched before slowly waddling onward.