Navigating down the stairs of Sundance's dwelling gave Sue some time for thought, almost all of it occupied by her complaining leg. A sunbeam sniping the corner of her vision politely informed her that the evening was upon them, and the noise in the distance signaled that the clearing was getting livelier and livelier. Her stomach screamed obscenities in her direction at how empty it was, but now that she was on her way to remedy just that, she hit the mental 'snooze' button on the sensation of hunger. It did the trick. For now.
These stairs were annoyingly steep.
Thankfully for Sue's composure, the group didn't notice her slower pace. They had each other to keep their interest. Joy looked uncertain, but with her parent's approach, she supposed she could try to get the older kids' attention. Because despite her initial reaction, she recognized them. Faintly, but still—she'd seen them before, and they knew Spark. They had to be friends. "H-h-hi," she growled out, waving at the pastel stranger.
And said stranger was all too happy to respond. Her lopsided body shifted onto a single braid as the other one waved back. The gesture was accompanied by a momentary pressure on the back of Joy's head, and then finally clarity. "^Hello! I'm Thistle! Is Sue your mom?^"
Joy flinched at the loud mental voice, but the question that followed steeled her resolve. She nodded firmly and looked up at Sue, making it down the last couple of stairs, before pointing at her. "Mm-mom!"
Sue hoped Joy wouldn't see the bright blush that set her cheeks ablaze at that. Joy most certainly saw, commenting on it with loud, raspy laughter.
Thistle, for her part, was uncertain where Sue's emotions were coming from. "^Why are you blushing, Sue?^"
To the Forest Guardian's dismay, the question brought the attention of the rest of the group to her, forcing her to explain herself. Her immediate idea was to come up with an excuse or just refuse to answer, but her conscious mind intercepted that train of thought before it could bury her even deeper in the tar pit of dishonesty. She was already keeping way more from people than she reasonably should have—no reason not to be open about this. Especially since, for all the supernatural weirdness that infused everything about how and why she was in Moonview, this situation was entirely untouched by it.
She didn't end up with a couple of little people looking up to her as their guardian because of divine bullshit, but because she'd been there for them. "Well, Thistle, it's because I'm happy to be their mom. I haven't been looking after them for all that long, and I'm just, just so happy they trust me so much. They love me, and I love them too."
Most of her words went over the heads of the kids in question, except for the final and most important part. Twinkle scooted closer and wrapped their tentacles around her neck and shoulder, while Joy cautiously embraced her uninjured leg, effectively pinning her in place. The former got a Forest Guardian hand gently stroking the canvas of their temporary outfit, the latter a beaming smile from above.
"Yeah, but where is their real mom?" Pollux blurted out.
Away on a scouting mission. Who knows, maybe by the time she'll get back, I'll already be gone.
For all her excitability, Thistle didn't hesitate to speak up. She turned her pinkish body towards him and mentally shouted, "^Pollux, that's not a nice thing to ask!^" She couldn't help but flinch along with everyone else at her own volume, making her look away apologetically.
Joy clung even tighter to Sue's leg, no longer to provide comfort but to receive it. Neither psychic could see her face, but they could tell it wasn't dry anymore. Twinkle froze, as they always did. The question made no immediate sense to them. They had no 'real' mom; they had no 'real' memories prior to meeting Sue. But they knew they should have. That there should've been another mom in that time forgotten and erased.
The lil' fox was about to defend himself, but even he noticed the changes in the tall friend that'd saved his life. Thistle shouting at him didn't help, but it pushed him towards saying something at least. "I-I'm sorry, Sue. I-I didn't mean—"
"It's okay." Sue's words were whisper-quiet, her gaze unfocused. She sighed, leaned the makeshift cane on the side of the building, and sat down on the bottommost stair, letting Joy climb into her arms. "It's not a nice question, Thistle's right, but it is a valid one. And we just... don't know. For either of them. I'm not their biological mom, I didn't give birth to them, but I still want to be their mom, their guardian. Is that wrong?"
The massive, 'birth'-shaped question mark hung in the air for everyone but Sue, though the kids knew better than to bring it up. It wasn't the point. Despite how quiet Sue's voice was, Pollux still felt scolded, shrinking before her. "N-no. I'm sorry..."
Sue's hands were too busy to reassure him right away. It took a solid bit of effort to lift Joy into her arms. The girl's wet cheeks immediately pressed into the crook of her mom's neck, right next to her sibling. Once she was in place, Sue could spare a hand to ruffle Pollux's head. Her smile was the opposite of convincing, but it was all she could put on. "You're all good, Pollux. You were just curious, right?"
The kit whined and nodded. "I know my mom is buried next to our swing, and I thought Joy and—and they could visit theirs too..."
A stabbing pain shot through Sue's chest at not realizing that dimension to his question. Of course he'd also lost a parent; she knew that, she just forgot. She tried her best to offer him a genuinely reassuring look, however strained it ended up looking, and responded, "That's kind of you, Pollux. But no, that's not the case for them."
Thistle had picked up on the change in vibes as well. Her eyes jumped between everyone involved, wondering who she should be comforting. Maybe if she'd added something of her own, it'd help distract the others from their bad feelings? "^Maybe they just didn't have another mom before this? My mom told me I didn't have a dad at all.^"
Thistle the Clone, heh.
"I really don't know, Thistle. If they don't wanna think or talk about it, we should just let it—" Sue began, before cutting herself off as Joy shimmied out of her embrace.
The girl was still nervous, and the tip of her maw grasped Sue's hand for reassurance, but she approached the pastely psychic all on her own before asking, "N-no dad?" Her words were whinier than her usual growls, but still clear despite that. She wasn't calm, far from it, but instead... surprisingly hopeful.
And Thistle knew what to say. "^Yeah! No dad.^"
The response stirred the deepest thought Joy had experienced in her brief life so far. Her hands fiddled with each other as she tried to make sense of her scary, half-forgotten memories and everything she'd felt about her guardians. "N-n-no dad me. No dad me too." Despite how difficult thinking about all this was, there were still things she knew for certain, and her mental maw clung onto them for dear life. "S-S-Sue mom, a-and A-Astra mom! No else."
"Who's Astra?"
Four heads and one amorphous blob of darkness craned themselves upward at hearing Rainfall's question, finding the crow perched on the top of the stairs. Joy was the first to answer, enthusiasm melting through her previous fear. "Mom!"
Sue smiled. A part of her thought she ought to feel bad at not being Joy's sole mom, but the rest of her was busy shoving that errant neuron into the nearest locker. "Yes, she is, Joy! She's a cartographer for Moonview, Rainfall. She makes maps. Right now she's away on a scouting mission, I think. She's, uh, orange and very big—"
"HER!" the crow screeched, leaning back in shock. Everyone waited for her to continue that train of thought, be they confused, worried, or outright intimidated by the intensity of her reaction.
To Sue's steadily creeping bemusement, however, the caws kept not coming, and eventually she had to broach the subject out loud. "Has she done something?" the Forest Guardian asked, trying to keep her voice neutral in case the answer was 'yes'.
"No!" Rainfall answered. "I recognize her, though! She's so big! My flock told me they've seen her in plenty of other places too, I didn't know she was from here."
"You're in a flock?" Pollux asked, dumbfounded.
The crow nodded so eagerly her hat-like feathers were at risk of falling out. "Yes! They fly over Newmoon twice a year!"
"So that's why you keep disappearing! Why'd you never tell us?"
Rainfall tilted her head. "You never asked!"
Sue's steadily building giggling interrupted the conversation before it could get even sillier. The sound made Joy scamper back into her arms, but this time without her earlier sadness. Even Twinkle felt better at hearing it, though they'd still need time before they felt normal. As normal as they usually felt, at least.
With everyone else having chimed in about their families, though, there was one obvious person left to ask. "Sue, what about your parents?" Pollux perked up. Sue couldn't sense his excitement like she did the feelings of others, but the wagging tail and wide eyes left nothing to the imagination. Now Thistle's and Joy's curiosity, that much her aching horn could absolutely sense.
And she was unsure how to answer.
She couldn't fool herself; the topic still hurt. Nowhere near as much as before she ended up in this world, but it hurt all the same. That was a secondary concern compared to ensuring she wouldn't say something too explicit with Joy and Twinkle listening. Hiding her human origin was also a factor, though much less relevant—and one she wouldn't be able to run away from forever.
Let's try to be as non-descriptive as I can. Gentle words, passive voice, like a journalist describing cops committing a hate crime.
"Well, my parents aren't with me anymore, Pollux. My mom p-passed away when I was slightly younger than you, and my dad just a couple years ago. I miss them a lot."
Predictably, the kids within reach huddled closer to her. Including Rainfall for once, but her best attempt at affection was landing directly on top of Sue's head and sitting there to share her warmth. The reserved language helped Sue keep a grip on her emotions, and she just ended up chuckling at it all.
What Thistle said next stopped that dead in its tracks, though. "^I thought Solstice was your mom.^" The magical hat girl could instantly tell she'd made a mistake of some sort, but couldn't figure out what it was exactly. All she knew was that Sue was staring at her, aghast and blank-minded. At a loss for words.
"She. She isn't," Sue forced out. The words tasted wrong. However much of a handle she might've had on the topic of her biological family, the unresolved tension between her and Solstice wasn't letting her mind rest. The older Forest Guardian knew they'd have to talk it through, be it today or tomorrow, but she wasn't ready to discuss the topic with a gaggle of kids. All of them waited, high-strung, for her to say another word. But she just wouldn't. She couldn't.
Fate didn't mind providing her with a way out, however.
The hisses and clicks coming from the path beside them snagged everyone's attention away from Sue and onto another band of kids. Sue's subconscious instinct was to furrow her eyebrows at seeing the pink bat-scorpion again, but she overruled that impulse just in time. The other two members of Copper's group were much less emotionally charged in her mind. The little plant creature, Petal, was Lilly's sister—and from what Sue understood, also adoptive, funnily enough. Sue recognized the appearance of the cream-and-brown donkey Copper was lying on top of, but knew nothing about them beyond that.
Including what they sounded like. Something Thistle immediately helped with, roping the newcomers into her translation while trying not to grow too dizzy.
"Oh. You must be the Newmoon kids. I was wondering when you were going to show up." Their voice was mumbly, boyish, and flatter than Sue's chest. It conveyed treacherously little emotion, and much the same was true of the rest of the donkey, mind included. Sue gulped as they stared her group down, nobody brave enough to make a sound—
The donkey half-cantered, half-leaped the few feet that separated their group from Sue's, nearly throwing the bat off his back entirely. "Hi, I'm Clay. Nice to meet you." Their tone was only marginally less flat, but their modest smile combined with a warm mental demeanor melted through Sue's reservation.
"You almost threw me off!" Copper squeaked from Clay's back, trying to balance himself to the tune of Pollux's laughter.
Clay nodded solemnly. "Oh. I am sorry, Copper." They then tilted their body to the side as strongly as they could, unceremoniously tossing the pink bat onto packed dirt. The antics, combined with them sticking out their tongues at each other afterwards, cleared whatever tension was still left between the groups.
Tension, but not curiosity. "Oh, it's you!" Petal squeaked towards Pollux, taking the kit aback.
"M-me? What about me?" the night kin fox squirmed at the attention being placed on him.
"It is you. The infamous shapeshifterrrrrr," Clay followed up, dragging out the word until their playmates laughed.
They certainly had their creature! Pollux was confused at their tone, but wouldn't waste the opportunity to show off. He closed his eyes, focused, and left others reeling as his form shifted before their eyes until it became an identical copy of Clay, staring back at the donkey. Hearing the impressed murmurs, he leaped down onto the road; the movements of his disguise were so unnatural they made the actual donkey cringe. There was no time to dwell on that, though, not as Pollux assumed the form of Petal instead, whistling gibberish and spinning on the spot. He then glanced around, clearly trying to find the last member of the trio, but couldn't—"BOO!"
Copper suddenly swooping down before Pollux's very eyes scared the disguise—and nearly the heartbeat—out of the fox, leaving the bat cackling as he climbed back onto the nearest wall. "I knew it! It's just a disguise!"
Well duh. Imagine how messed up it would've been if Pollux actually transformed into different beings all the time. World record amount of dysmorphia in the making.
"A-and so what?" Pollux defended himself, ticked off. His cross expression and spread stance made Sue genuinely worried the situation would sour even further, and she was about to speak up to calm the kids down, but the scorpion-bat was first.
Or rather, wanted to be first, but found himself unable to come up with the follow-up to his verbal gotcha. "And, and nothing! Everyone thought you were a bad shapeshifter, but I knew this was a disguise all along!"
"HEY! I'm not bad!" the kit huffed indignantly. Sue wasn't a good judge of that, and so she stayed out of the petty squabble.
Thistle, however, didn't. "^You could be better, though.^"
"M-maybe, but that doesn't mean I'm bad!"
"No such thing as bad, merely untrained." The gravely voice took most kids aback, be it because of confusion or intimidation, but not Sue.
She let out a small gasp and looked up at the door to the dwelling underneath Sundance's, and there he was—the craftsbug himself, looking out with moderate annoyance on his features. "Good afternoon, Kantaro!" Sue greeted.
"Afternoon, Sh-shueh," the bug responded, making it the rest of the way out of his dwelling and stretching his bandaged body. His gaze lingered on each of the Newmoon newcomers only for a moment, almost as if he was expecting them.
The same couldn't be said for the other way around, though. Pollux paused in thought before gasping and running up to the stonesmith excitedly. "You're Kantaro!? I-I think I saw you earlier today! Ginger told us so much about you! My name is—"
"Pollux," the craftsbug answered for him. The laughter that left him at seeing the kit's stunned expression reminded Sue of grinding rocks, except if one of them was made of chalk and the other of blackboard. "Oh, do not be so shocked. It's not like Alastor and Aurelia didn't discuss what name they'd give you. Discuss they did, for months, hah..." Kantaro sighed. "I had suggested 'Vulpecula', but ultimately they went with Solstice's idea. Can't blame them either, 'Pollux' has a nice ring to it."
On a rational level, Pollux knew he oughtn't be surprised that he wasn't a total unknown in Moonview, but that didn't mean he wasn't shocked. At being known, at his parents being known, at his mom being known. Solstice being the one to name him stung Sue much more than it did the kit himself—his priorities lay elsewhere. "Y-you knew my mom?"
The beetle straightened himself out, taking pride in that fact, before his posturing faltered. His pride amounted to nothing, really. The kid could use a lot more knowledge. "Correct, Pollux. If you don't slow me down, I might even humor some questions." Thankfully for said kid, he wasn't rushing anywhere.
Pollux nodded rapidly, halfway between anxious and manic. "O-of course, Mrs—"
"That's mister Kantaro for you," the beetle reminded, before flinching alongside Pollux at his own harsh tone.
"S-sorry... C-can I still a-ask?" the kit whimpered, looking everywhere but at the craftsbug.
"Of course, kiddo," Kantaro's voice softened, to whatever degree it even could. "You coming with us, Shu-eh?"
It was Sue's turn to perk up and get back onto her feet. The time she'd bought before her stomach would start eating itself was running out fast. "Yeah. Let's all get something to eat, shall we?"
"She lifted an entire TREE from the ground!?"
Kantaro spearheaded the makeshift group on their pilgrimage towards warm meals, with Pollux orbiting around him. Despite a less than perfect introduction the two had, the kit could barely keep his energy contained after the craftsbug began divulging his mom's past, gasping and squealing at every additional detail. In truth, Sue wasn't terribly sure what to think. On one hand, it was a heartwarming display, and even though the other kids didn't care about learning every minute detail of someone who wasn't around anymore, the lil' night kin certainly did.
On the other hand, even Sue knew some of these tidbits from her talk with Patina a few days ago. How come Pollux didn't?
Sue wanted to be shocked at that being the case, but with her past interactions with Alastor, she couldn't say she was. Grieving was one thing; keeping all the knowledge of your dead wife away from your son was another. It really seemed that the only thing Pollux had known until now was her name. And that just sucked.
"Aye. Gave it a good twirl, too. Snapped it in twain on her knee."
The beetle, for his part, was enjoying this. He knew that Sue knew that he knew he wasn't being entirely honest with the feats of strength he was describing, but reality really wasn't that far off. The tree that Aurelia ripped out and showed off with wasn't even thrice her height at that point; it wasn't some imposing old growth, but that's not how Moonview collectively remembered it. Describing her feats with more reserved wording would've been more factually correct, but it wouldn't convey what she'd meant for him. What she'd meant for them all.
And how much her absence hurt.
The rest of the group was entirely satisfied to chat amongst themselves, trailing enough behind the beetle and the fox to not disturb their bonding moment. Copper climbed back onto Clay's back and resumed his laziness, which proved awkward once Sue had to place Joy back down onto the ground and grab her walking stick. The bat and the metal girl remained content to flank her on the opposite sides for the time being, though without any animosity she could sense. Unease, sure, but nothing beyond that.
Rainfall was still perched on Sue's head, and the Forest Guardian was only barely stopping herself from shaking her off. At least all the stiff hair proved enough for her talons to cling to, and they weren't scratching up her forehead. Petal was glad to accompany Joy, walking as fast as she could and holding extremities with her. She still ended up being the slowest member of the group, but neither Sue, Clay, Joy, nor even Kantaro minded matching her pace. Thistle bounced from braid to braid ahead of Sue, carefree demeanor mixing with curiosity about her surroundings, now that she wasn't just looking at them from behind the trees, and a slowly but steadily mounting headache. The girl didn't seem to be particularly worried about it, and Sue figured she might as well follow her lead in that regard.
This left Twinkle, and the little ghost was far from an idle spectator. Or, at least, wanted to be far from an idle spectator. The first time they tried scrambling down Sue's body, she remained silent and just observed. Alas, their excursion ended prematurely. They chickened out before they could actually catch Clay or Copper's attention, instead retreating onto Sue's shoulder. Even if they were second-guessing themselves, that was still plenty of progress compared to just a few days ago. If not for worrying that she might accidentally knock them off-balance and have them fall onto the trodden path, Sue would've stroked their canvas in appreciation.
Wonder if they'd bounce. Probably not.
"What did she use all that wood for?" Pollux excitedly asked, having to stop himself from leaping on top of the beetle.
"Metalsmithing, of course. Her flame was like nothing I'd seen before or since, had my shell creaking for mercy from the next hut over. Patina, her apprentice, is still around. I don't doubt she'd be a ton more help in explaining her smithing efforts than someone who's never gonna be able to look at an open flame the same way again."
Pollux mentally jotted the name down—and almost ran into someone else passing by as he turned the corner. She was red, tall, clad in green metal armor, and stared down at him with a gaze so intense and upbeat her eyes were literally on fire.
"Speak of Fate and it shall come to spirit your ass away," Kantaro chuckled. "Evening, Patina. Evening, Celestica."
"^Mighty evenin', Kantaro, and greetings, everyone! I'd greet lil' Pollux as well, but alas, don' think he'll be able to hear me anytime soon. Mind passin' the words along?^" / "^At last, the little night-blessed himself, out of his tenuous hiding.^"
Celestica's comment made their daughter roll her eyes. "^It wasn't that tenuous.^"
"^It most certainly was,^" the shattered armor rumbled back, their eye focusing on the fox. At least, until it looked up at Thistle instead. "^What wisdom do you wish to share, Heather-daughter?^"
The hatted psychic leaned back, unused to her own thoughts getting glimpsed. Still, she had something she could help with; she wouldn't waste the opportunity! "^Hi! My name is Thistle! You can actually talk to Pollux! He just has to—^"
Patina shook her head. "^Oh I know, sweetie, talked Alastor's and Jasper's heads and singed some of their fur off back in the day. I think Pollux's guard is up, though.^"
The fox himself remained rooted to the spot, growing increasingly frozen the warmer the surrounding air got. Sue wasn't sure how to help; it's not like he could understand her without the translation either.
That wasn't the limitation everyone shared, however. "Pollux, kid, lower your guard so Patina can talk to you." Kantaro's instruction was direct, but it fell on deaf ears. Awkwardness turned to concern, with nobody sure what to do. The Moonview locals didn't want to interfere in case it was something serious; the psychics couldn't suss out what was up, and Pollux remained silent, transfixed at the flame, ears flat against his head and pupils narrowed. As if ready to run.
It was only when someone, a certain toothy metal girl, shook his leg that he finally responded. He gasped and looked around as if suddenly waking up, before remembering where he was and who the tall, fiery stranger beside him was. And why he ought to be happy to see her. "O-oh, I-I—hi! A-are you Patina?" he asked as if nothing was amiss, as if he hadn't remained completely silent for over a minute until Joy shook him out of it.
Once she'd given her daughter a proud smile, Sue shifted her attention back to the fox, before getting cut off by the much hotter psychic. "^Sure am, kiddo! Knew your mom a bunch, she taught me everythin' I know! Before any of that—did ya see the afterlife or somethin'? Ya froze for a while there.^"
"I didn't!" Pollux insisted, and shrank under half a dozen suspicious looks. "O-okay, maybe I did, but... it's dumb."
"Nothing that shocks your shell this much can be described as 'dumb', Pollux," Kantaro chided.
"But it is! I just, I had a nightmare yesterday that Newmoon all burned down a-and this reminded me of it..." the lil' fox whimpered, wilting under supportive gazes.
"^Awwwh.^" Patina crouched beside him, pushing her face the closest it could get to a smile. "^Sorry to hear that, buddy. Must've been one hell of a nightmare to rattle you this much.^"
"^Or a warning,^" Celestica added.
Patina let out a drawn-out sigh, looking down at her armor with annoyance. "^Celly, c'mon, don't scare the kid.^"
Said armor wasn't getting the message. Or rather, they were letting it get to within inches of them before parrying it off into the distance. "^Shining light on potential warnings from the divine is not 'scaring.'^"
Sue blinked at the description before her eyes went wide as she recalled some of her own night-time visions. "W-wait, warnings?" She asked, hoping that her startle at the idea would come off as fear as opposed to any sort of deeper knowledge. Of the three people around who could've seen through her bluff, two were busy arguing while the third one was comforting her startled friend. The latter most definitely noticed something was amiss, though.
Patina groaned out loud, the sound like raging coals, making Pollux and Thistle back away from her a couple of paces. "^Quit that, Celestica, please. Really ain't the time for that, it's their first time here. Well, at least without hiding.^"
The bell-turned-shell wasn't taking the hint, though. "^I merely seek to inform. The Dark Lord speaks through—^" they began, before getting cut off by their daughter. Patina's hand grasped the edge of the largest greenish plate, and Sue felt their psychics wrestling together like warring air currents, invisible and intense all the same. Both of them could've laid her out easily, but the strength difference between them was inarguable.
And before long, Patina muttered out, trying her hardest to keep her parent's psychic mouth shut. "^Apologies for that, sweeties. Forget all that and go get yourself something sweet to drink, how's that sound?^" Without even waiting for a response, the flaming smith pivoted on their heel away from the group. She wrestled with Celestica for a few meters before finally giving up the struggle; the annoyance disappeared into a cloud of disappointment and regret.
"Sheesh, I've never seen them argue this loudly," Copper added, his gaze trailing the pair until they turned the corner. "Guess it ain't a surprise when they're stuck so close together all the time. Fortunately, my noble host would never dare to shut me up in such a way!"
The Taunt struck the brown donkey true, and the bat was waiting for it. He wrapped his arms around Clay's stomach and held them tightly, clinging for dear life despite the array of kicks and flips that followed. The intensity of all the action was a bit too much for Twinkle, making them retreat further into the crook of Sue's neck, but the other kids reacted more positively.
"Come on Clay, you can do this!" Petal cheered, waving her stubby limbs. For a few seconds, her eyes squinted as if trying to take aim, before relaxing back to normal. The stray thought about nudging the scales with a well-aimed attack left the plant bud as soon as it had arrived, and considering Sue's experience with technicolor magical mayhem, she was all too glad for that. Joy, for her part, just laughed at the duo, making for an amusing contrast with the all-too-exasperated Kantaro.
Which just left the visitors. Thistle's gaze alternated between the boys, her recent friends, and her oldest friend; her head swirled between the conflicting emotions. Pollux stared at the antics, uneasy, though Sue guessed his thoughts were elsewhere.
I have to ask him what he saw.
Regardless of whether it was just a stray dream or a genuine premonition, it fitted too well with everything else going on for Sue to not at least try to follow that lead. It didn't come without its own share of issues, though. Keeping her worries from the little night kin was one thing, but from his all-too-eavesdroppy translator? Something would slip out, and while Root's threat didn't carry the same existential worry for her as her origins, it sure wouldn't help the rattled kids.
To Sue's chagrin, however, something might've already slipped out.
She flinched ever-so-slightly at noticing Thistle staring at her, her pinprick eyes turned piercing by her confused, unnerved expression. Flexing every remaining braincell, she tried to fill her head with something else, focusing on the boys still going at it instead. It was kinda like the world's most anatomically dubious rodeo, wasn't it? Yes, that was the right thing to think about, rodeo. That two-dimensional 'thing' her mind had squarely categorized as just a trope due to her only exposure to them being American media of debatable quality.
Though, rodeo usually didn't have birds joining in on the fun either. Sue's eyes snapped to Rainfall after an embarrassing delay, despite the crow having vacated her head almost a minute ago, and watched, dumbfounded, as she tried to pray Copper away from his playmate, talons grabbing him by the shoulders. With their combined efforts, the donkey and the crow were making good progress in dislodging the nightmare bat creature—only to be interrupted by an impatient grunt. "Come on kids, I do not have an entire day to watch your scuffles."
"Oh-kay, mister Kantaro. Sorry..." Clay and Copper responded simultaneously.
Rainfall needed a few more moments to realize others had already given up their efforts. Once she did and had joined them in that, though, she was determined to apologize as well. "What they said!"
Thinking little of the Moonview kids' apology and even less of the corvid's non-apology, Kantaro turned back toward the clearing and continued. "On we go. Pollux, boy, you okay?"
"S-sure!" the kit replied, sounding as if the mere act of being addressed had startled him, while the group got moving around him. "I suppose it was just a-a bit awkward? Sorry for starting that scene..." he whimpered.
"^It really was weird, yeah. I don't think I'd be happy if my mom tried to keep me quiet like that,^" Thistle commented, huddling up closer to her friend.
"What's weirder is trying to scare him with those weird religious words," Clay muttered.
Kantaro shook a good chunk of his body. "Celestica isn't the type to frighten people deliberately. Entirely unintentionally, yes, and I suspect that is what has happened here."
"Was she making any of that stuff up?" Pollux asked, hopeful, before correcting himself. "Or they, I think."
"To my knowledge, Celestica does not mind being addressed in any way. Unless, of course, you insinuate their faith or teachings aren't honest," Kantaro grimly chuckled. He then immediately regretted it at seeing the black fur on Pollux's face somehow go pale, and added, "Worry not, Pollux, I was jesting. Though, no—they were not 'making any of that stuff up.' Misremembering, extrapolating from lessons they'd learned dozens if not hundreds of years ago, sticking to doctrines we've never heard of in Moonview, sure. Just not lying. I still would not uncritically listen to them in the matters of faith."
The argument had some success in calming the kit down, though nowhere near as much as the words that followed. "'Sides, only a suicidal fool would attempt to strike Newmoon with arson, given that the blaze would inevitably spread here too. I know fools, I know suicidal folk, and I know people capable of arson, but nobody that fits in that specific overlap."
Now that was something that Pollux would buy. He nodded firmly, for his own sake more than anyone else's, and sighed. "Yeah, that'd be so dumb!"
"That'd be like ripping out your own tail to poison someone to death!" Copper cheerfully added, the morbidity of his joke lost on him.
However much Sue had tuned out the conversation, seeing Joy's interest in participating in it made her perk up. Alas, the girl didn't end up going for it. She had an outline of a joke coiling around in her teeny head, something involving throwing her metal teeth at someone to hurt them, but didn't know enough language to express it. She made up for that by laughing extra hard at the bat's words, though, almost the only one to do so.
How dare this walking stick and bloody leg prevent me from kneeling here and now and giving her a big hug.
As they made it the rest of the way towards the clearing, the Forest Guardian went back to Kantaro's words. For all her worries, and all the good reasons she had to worry, he'd raised an excellent point. Everything here was flammable, and while Root obviously had some control over flames, just like Sundance, she doubted that extended from magically quashing them to prevent them from spreading too far.
And that's ignoring the fact that if he'd as much as tried doing that, half of Newmoon would rip him a new complete set of orifices on sight.
Sue's heart wasn't calm; a part of her was sceptical if it would ever get calm again, but for the time being, her worries had been dealt with. Just in time for her to turn the corner past the row of stalls and head towards Poppy's as the group split up. Copper, Clay and Petal each went their separate ways, with only the bat deciding to follow her to the fairy-ghost stall. Joy needed a moment to realize that her mom was going somewhere else than the friend she'd been holding hands with, but had enough composure to quickly scoot over instead of panicking.
Without a single shred of an idea of where to go, Pollux and Thistle followed Sue too. Their eyes went wide at the sheer scale of Moonview's clearing, and all the people in it. Though in Thistle's case, her eyes had also gone wide for other reasons. The pain had been manageable until now, but the hundreds of souls in her line of sight were pushing her over her limit.
For a second, Sue considered asking her if she needed help, or an excuse to excuse herself, but the little hat had it under control. The Forest Guardian's sixth sense followed the ineffable movements of the hat's psychics, and saw her do the same trick she'd done a few days ago at the daycare, the one that had dulled her emotions. This time, though, it seemed to be intentional, and brought immediate relief. Not in the sense that Thistle didn't feel the overwhelming sensations anymore, but in that they were being compartmentalized much more effectively, avoiding further disc—
"Crutche—uh, guess just 'a' Crutch now. What do you want?"
Hazel's whispered croak instantly brought Sue's head out of the pastel-colored clouds it had been in, and back to the stall before her. Guess it was another vague description today. "Something savoury and filling for me. Large portion if you can. For Joy, something sweet—"
"Wh-wh-what yesterday!" the metal girl squealed, waving her little arms.
"You heard her, same as yesterday. Now—oh?" Sue began, about to Pass the Baton over to Pollux. And then, she felt Twinkle tug on her arm, their tentacles sliding down its length. She listened in to the amorphous cloud of their infant psyche, and with some effort, made out what they were trying to tell her. "Oh, and a bit of what Joy had yesterday for Twinkle too."
Hazel's crooked smile wavered at the addendum before growing even wider than before. For one, it appeared entirely malice-free as well. "Fair enough, li'l fella. Now, the Pecha thieves," she chuckled as she looked at Pollux and Thistle, the spectral sound echoing on itself.
What?
"What!?" the night kin kit squeaked. Hazel's amusement glowed like a space heater, only getting warmer as Pollux struggled for words. Thistle's eyes jumped to the sides in search of a distraction as she stood there, stone-faced, embarrassment piercing the veil of her Calmed Mind.
"Oh, you really thought we couldn't tell? BWAHAHA!" Hazel half-laughed, half-screamed, her voice discordant. "Poor li'l rascal, nabbing a Pecha from us every other week while the kiddo they're impersonating is within eyeshot, with a psychic mushroom to act as a distraction~. 'Course we knew, we ain't dumb."
I could not have expected we'd have that in common of all things, Hazel.
The ghost's comment was stupefying enough that Sue almost missed the wayward glance she gave at the mention of 'the kiddo' Pollux was impersonating. And sure enough, the orange-black striped 'puppy' she'd seen Pollux disguise himself as a few days ago was there, eating by a small fire pit with their friends.
With Thistle at a loss for words, it'd fall on Pollux to mumble out an apology, the most heartfelt one he could manage. "I'm—we're—"
"Nah, don't bother," Hazel snorted. "It'd only be crass, boorish and simply unsportswomanlike to take issue with a well-executed prank! Even if the material had begun to grow stale after a while. So, thieves, what will ya have?" Sue responded to a verbal side-eye with a physical side-eye, netting herself a wink from the ghost. Whether it was a chuckle, a threat, or a promise, she had no idea.
"Th-thank you! Could we have..." Pollux trailed off, looked at his friend, and pushed his luck. "...something with Pecha, then?"
"BWAHAHAHA!" Hazel roared, slapping her knee through the intangible matter of the wooden counter immediately before her. "Good one! Alas! For mysterious and unexplainable reasons, we're out! Unless you're in the mood to pilfer a bunch more from the orchard, you're gonna have to do with Salac. Sound good?"
The kit nodded intensely, pressing his paws into the ground while trying not to catch on fire. "O-of course! H-how about you, Thistle?"
"^Mhm,^" the hatted psychic muttered in return.
The ghost was satisfied at that, withdrawing back into the kitchen, but Pollux could immediately tell something was off with his friend. He opened his maw to speak, but before he could push the words out, Sue caught their attention with a wave and pointed towards where they'd be going next. "Go take a seat somewhere there, I'll bring the food once it's ready."
The Newmoon guests didn't argue, especially after Copper flew ahead to one of the outer, free tables. Joy stayed with Sue, content waiting in silence, giving her mom a moment to grab her bearings to the tune of delectable sizzling from the bowels of the kitchen. And Hazel's ghastly mumbling, of course. The ghost needed a while to realize that 'Crutch' couldn't understand her again, but the mobility-aided Forest Guardian herself was too busy rolling her shoulder and checking how she was holding up to notice.
The stick had helped, though it wasn't ideal. Whether it was any better than the crutch, Sue was woefully uncertain about, and a part of her doubted there was any way for her to know for sure. Her leg wasn't killing her anymore, and that's the one result she actually cared about—everything else was implementation details.
And just like all the other details out there, they were where the devil was. The stick was rather unpleasant to hold for extended periods of time, nowhere near as polished as her previous crutch. She could feel it being slightly too long in her shoulder and wrist, and giving them a hearty exercise session only eased the aches partially. Depriving her of the ability to carry Joy in her arms was a sin that every mobility aid she could imagine was guilty of, but that helped little.
I hate this leg, man. How long 'til it's back to normal?
Only Destiny knew the answer to that—just like only Fate knew how long it was until their meal was ready. Zero. The answer was zero. The cosmic truth struck Sue just before Hazel would've had to audibly remind her of it, nodding in appreciation. Groaning, she left the walking stick at the counter and brought the meals to the table in a couple of runs, with just her own portion left at the end.
The table the kids had chosen was so far into the clearing that Sue could make out the path towards the cemetery from there. Among other, much more interesting things. Such as, for example, Snowdrop and Daisy and a couple other performers Sue faintly recognized, discussing something in a group, a few dozen feet away from them. Daystar was there, too, though she was entirely content to just watch.
Just missing a chair. Heh.
Sue positioned herself as close to the performers as she could, but despite her highest-intensity squinting to focus, she couldn't stretch her psychics far enough to reach them, leaving them untranslated. Part of her expected Thistle to have already gone ahead and stitched the translation together on her own volition, like she'd done for the rest of the day, but she hasn't. And with how that forced calming technique had affected her a few days ago, Sue wasn't surprised at all. Also, she was probably just tired.
"^I'm not that tired,^" Thistle flatly asserted, breaking the crunch-filled quiet. Joy looked up at her from her bowl of sweet treats—and the even smaller bowl beside it, donated by Twinkle after they realized they really couldn't eat the treats—then at her mom, and went back to eating.
Sue wasn't entirely sure what to say in response to that thought of all things getting addressed. She focused on her own meal, digging into a portion of roasted fibrous, sweet, probably-vegetables. Kinda like potatoes, kinda like carrots, kinda like the secret third thing they don't want you to know about. Though on a second bite, Sue was reasonably sure that third thing was just turnip.
Pollux was too busy licking his bowl—and then, his snout—clean to acknowledge his friend's comment. The syrupy, zesty sweetness of sauteed Salac danced on his tongue and filled his body with more energy than it knew what to do with. At least, if the increasingly high-frequency tapping of his paw on the bench, combined with his tail turning into a blur behind him, was any sign.
Beyond filling him with more caffeine than a liter bottle of energy drink, though, it also lifted his spirits as high up as they'd be going today. Sue tapped the wooden spoon on the side of her bowl as she debated whether it was a good idea to bring up the worrisome topic again, and decided to just go for it. "Hey, Pollux—"
Thistle was faster. "^Do you know why Pollux had that vision?^" The words froze in Sue's throat. She nervously glanced at the smaller psychic, expecting to sense and feel suspicion. Some of it was definitely there; Sue could almost taste its bitter undertones, but the question itself appeared to be entirely genuine.
And since the kit himself was too distracted to have even noticed Sue's attempt at asking him a question, the Forest Guardian figured she could respond honestly. "No, I've no idea. I've had some of my own worries recently that were kinda similar, though, and was wondering if what Pollux saw might be related."
"Related??" Pollux yipped into his bowl, louder than usual despite being muffled by the wood.
"Yeah. I..." Sue trailed off. For a second, she considered lying, but considering how good Thistle was at seeing her lies normally, an extra-sober and serious Thistle would likely see right through her and let others know. "I just talked to Root earlier today and he was acting creepy. And with how he acted at the Elders' Council meeting, I just got kinda worried. And what Pollux said reminded me of that worry."
Thistle didn't comment. Sue could almost swear that she'd even relaxed somewhat, finally giving the meal before her attention. She took her first bite right as Pollux had finally licked the bowl clean, a tiny smile cracking on her face.
Instead, someone else commented. "B-but Mr. Root wouldn't do anything like that!" Copper cried out. His playfulness had been replaced by palpable unease at the very idea. "He's never hurt anybody!"
Very debatable.
Sue almost had to psychically hold her eyeballs in place lest they spun out of their sockets. However arguable Copper's first point was, the second was just outright false in any way that mattered. Not just at the level of immediate, physical and magical violence, but through his political efforts, through who had to suffer because of his bigotry. Still, Sue kept that thought to herself. Thistle also had a glimpse, probably, but as long as it would never reach either of their mouths, things would be alright.
Instead, she pressed the bat about his reasoning. "What makes you think he wouldn't do stuff like that?" Sue asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. "People hurt each other all the time."
Copper, of all people, didn't need to be reminded of that. He flinched as if struck, looked away from the table, and sighed. "I-I know, but... he's nice to people. Always teaches us about the Pale Lady, prays with us, a-and he looks after Crackle! And Sunrise! I don't think they'd have many friends without him."
Sue didn't doubt that last point, really. She wouldn't have been surprised at all if that was genuinely the case, however unfortunate. As for Crackle and Sunrise, though... yeah, Sue could tell that the badger was their sole friend. The situation didn't merit a snarky response. "I see!" she feigned surprise. "Well, in that case, my worries are soothed. Still, I can't deny being quite curious about what you did see, Pollux," she followed up, giving the kit the most reassuring smile she could muster.
The topic was still uncomfortable, but all the caffeine inside Pollux made him unable to hold that discomfort in his mind for more than three seconds. "Okay!! I mostly just saw burning buildings! A-a lot of burning buildings," he muttered out, as if struggling to hold that thought. "I-I think that's it. Can't remember many other details, it was really really dark. Sorry..." he whined, still tapping the bench as he looked down at the grass, tinted by the orange sunset.
The green hand stroking his tingly fur pulled him out of the funk before he could sink further, though. "Don't worry Pollux, it's all good!" Sue beamed.
She couldn't deny being disappointed at the lack of detail in Pollux's description, but it was lessened once she thought back to Kantaro earlier and Copper just now. Maybe they truly were right, and it was her paranoid self that was wrong. Not every bigot was a murderer in the making, and regardless of whether that was because of them having principles, being cowards, or being weak, it didn't matter.
And even if I am right, he won't win against everyone opposed to his shit.
"Whatcha havin', guys?" Daystar interrupted Sue's idle mulling, leaning over from the table next over to examine everyone's bowls.
Case in point.
"S-s-sweet!" Joy answered with a harsh squeak, before going back to shoveling the treats into her front mouth. Sue could've sworn she sometimes saw her feeding one or two dough balls to her back maw as well, in the corner of her vision.
"Salac!!" Pollux howled. "I haven't had it in so long it's so sweet I love it I love it!!" He accentuated his enjoyment of the meal by repeatedly tapping his front paw on the table; his tail waved almost fast enough to produce an audible frequency.
"^Also Salac,^" Thistle added flatly. Despite the unemotional spell that had taken hold over her, she wasn't immune to the fruit's effect either. One of the finger-like extrusions on her braids was nervously digging against the rough wood, strong enough to carve into it. With the little psychic none the wiser.
Pollux may have known, and Sue may have had a very good idea of what happened to the pastel girl, but that didn't extend to Daystar. The stretched weasel narrowed her eyes and walked closer, her expression lighting up with genuine concern. "Thistle, you aight?"
"^I think I am, yes.^" The little psychic rocked back and forth on the spot, not even making eye contact with her adult friend. "^I had used Calm Mind like my mom taught me, because it was getting too loud.^"
So that's what that's called. Worth bringing up to Solstice someday.
Daystar gave the explanation an uncertain nod. She trusted Heather's wisdom on the topic, but the results spoke for themselves. Or rather muttered, bitterly. "It helpin' at all, sweetie?"
The hatful of pastel girl blinked at the question before looking up at the weasel. "^I don't know. I'm not sure.^"
Sue gave her a knowing nod and a reassuring, warm smile. She'd been there, and Thistle could tell, straining against the numbness inside her head to respond with her own smile, however shaky and half-formed.
"Sorry to hear, love," Daystar commented, lowering her voice. "Me and Snowy gonna have a bite ourselves, and once we're done, I'm gonna walk you both back home, aight?"
"^Okay.^"
"Sure!!"
Daystar straightened out. "Perfect! I'd ask for Rainfall as well, but knowing her, she'll find her way back eventually. When's the last time ya'll have seen her?"
The two Newmoon kids looked at each other uncertainly, and took a shared sigh of relief once Sue answered for them. "Half an hour to an hour ago."
"Yeah! Her talons were sharp, ouch..." Copper commented. He wished he could swivel his head backward to examine whether the scratches left any marks on his shoulders. They hadn't.
The one-armed once-bandit was content with the answers, turning around on the heel and heading back to her seat—only to break into a wide smile. "You guys done for now?"
"Well, we only discussed the broad outline today, and which moves we wanted to incorporate into our performance~" Snowdrop answered. Sue turned to look at her. Her eyes went wide at seeing Snowdrop grasp her girlfriend's cheek with a smug, confident look on her face.
Daystar, for her part, was just as taken aback as Sue, but didn't dislike the change. Not in the slightest. Especially not if the warmth in her cheeks—and elsewhere in her body—was any sign. "Whatdcha settled at?" She'd maintained enough composure to keep her voice stable, but it was a very narrow victory.
"We were thinking something rudimentary to warm up after... you know," the icy performer answered, the bravado slipping off her face for a moment. And only a moment it was, though, before it returned to her, and then some. "Doesn't mean we can't have some fun with it~! You can do a lot with just snow and icicles~" she teased, splashing Daystar's other cheek with a bunch of the former and poking her forehead gem with the latter.
Pollux, Thistle, and Copper stared confused at the exchange, though the bat had also hid behind the table at seeing Snowdrop's ice magic. Joy was too preoccupied with her treats to even notice the performer's appearance, and Twinkle knew nothing about either of the women involved, which just left Sue. And Sue had some questions. Questions which Daystar seemed not to know the answers to either, judging by her pleasant surprise.
Awkward questions, at that. "A-are you okay, Snowdrop?" the Forest Guardian asked. Her words were staggered, doubtful of their own purpose as they were being produced. Of course Snowdrop was fine; she was clearly enjoying herself, and one didn't even need to be a psychic for that to be abundantly clear. But she was also different, and that was the crux of Sue's question.
The snowy specter flinched for a split-second before breaking into echoing laughter and hovering closer to Sue. "Why, yes~! Something the matter, Sue~?"
If her initial reaction was any sign, Snowdrop had understood her question—and deliberately misinterpreted it, anyway. It made Sue doubt whether pursuing this would be a good idea, but she was too far in to stop. "N-no, it's just—you're acting quite differently. K-kinda like when I first met you."
This time, Snowdrop's startle wouldn't get washed away so quickly. She hovered back half an inch and looked to Daystar for reassurance. The weasel, for all her enjoyment of a bolder, flirtier Snowdrop, was no less confused where it had come from, and her expression made that clear. Sue's eyes went wide at sensing the panic sprouting in the performer's mind, urging her to intervene. But then, the icy woman got a freezing grip on herself. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and began. "Th-that's true," she mumbled, her confidence gone entirely. "I suppose you could call it a mask of sorts. I put it on when I'm performing, o-or training ahead of my performances."
"Why you'd need a mask??" Pollux asked, tilting his head almost ninety degrees. If there was one thing he knew about disguises, it's that they served a purpose.
Which was also true here, of course. "Well, it's kinda hard to act like this," Snowdrop sheepishly explained. "This me, th-the 'real' me, doesn't make for a good actor. When you're on the stage, throwing moves around and dodging, you need to be confident and follow the plan, or else people could get hurt. This me can't do that." She paused before closing her eyes and taking a deep breath. "But this me can~ It's quite easy, even~" she giggled.
As quickly as the mask had come back on, it was gone again. "It's kinda comforting. You know, this 'mask,' with all its confidence. She's bold, direct, stuns people with her sheer panache, flirts so much more directly than I could ever hope to..." Snowdrop trailed off with a whimper, her ice horns melting a bit from sheer embarrassment. "She's not the real me, but sometimes I-I want her to be. Sometimes I need her to be. And if I psych myself enough, I can become her for a while. I don't think it'd be good for me to just be her all the time; it'd be a lonely existence. And I don't want that, ever again."
Meltwater dripped from the bottom of her levitating body while everyone processed the revelation. Sue envied her somewhat. Despite their different circumstances, she could entirely understand the desire to just become the person she could never be, unafraid to speak her mind and dripping with confidence. Indomitable. The opposite of the real her. But then, as her brain was keen to point out, any such ideas were snubbed out by her brain screaming at her that any such 'other her' would just be an asshole. She couldn't know if that was true until she'd tried, but it felt true, deep inside, in the most fearful part of her psyche.
Daystar's advanced mental analysis of her girlfriend's actions lasted two seconds and culminated in her pulling the floating icewoman into the most tender hug either of them had ever had. "Oh, darlin'. Don't worry, I entirely get it, love. For the record, I doubt the 'other you' would end up lonely, but I sure don't wanna pressure you either way. 'Cause I love you, Snowy, no matter how ya wanna act." And then, unspoken, came the words, 'but please do that again someday holy shit,' thought so intensely that Sue overheard them in perfect clarity.
Snowdrop returned the embrace, as cold and intense as she could manage. "Th-thank you, thank you, thank you..."
"'Course, Snowy," Daystar whispered, rocking them both to the sides. "Hardly unfamiliar with the concept myself, really. Ginger used to do that kinda stuff back in the day, too. Though, of course he mellowed out a ton once the Plague hit."
The mention of Ginger interrupted Sue's absentminded observing, stopping both the adoration at the couple and her deeply held neurosis in their tracks. "G-ginger?" She blurted out, finding the very idea of the technicolor lizard acting that way to be viscerally wrong.
"Aye. For him it was always a posturin' kinda thing. His folk used to do that too. Turns out you can stare down quite a few predators on the loose if you put enough gumption into it, eh."
It being a threat display of sorts made sense; though applying that term to a sapient creature felt wrong in Sue's head. The other part of Daystar's earlier comment begged to be addressed as well. "I see. Guessing he gave it up because of... everything that had happened afterwards?"
Daystar's head meandered for a bit. "Sure didn't hurt, depression sucks the life outta you. But no, he also just didn't have the stamina he used to. Legs got weaker, he ran outta breath faster, we connected the dots and realized it was prolly 'cause of the Plague," the weasel muttered, downbeat. Snowdrop's hand stroking her cheek helped, as did the knowledge that all this was in the past now. What helped her regain her spirit more than either of that, though, was seeing Sue stare at her with the widest eyes Daystar had ever seen, forcing an undignified chuckle out of her. "Lemme guess, they told you the night kin were immune?"
Sue's head was entirely empty, the thoughts refusing to come. One of the biggest parts of her mental model of what had happened in this unfortunate place had been yanked from underneath her, sending her mind into freefall.
Copper was just confused, though. "Yeah, that's what Mr. Root said!" There was no suspicion in his voice, only confusion.
Daystar scoffed and sighed. "For once, for once, I can't blame him for that, 'cause we thought so too. But no, nothin's ever this easy. Thorns didn't end up coughin' her lungs out like I did, but her chitin's been more brittle since. Jasper's fur was quite a bit patchier afterwards. 'Spose when everyone's on their deathbed, long-term stuff like that gets overlooked, eh? Just glad it didn't reignite the scars in my arm, else it would've finished me off," she bitterly added, netting herself another tight hug from her girlfriend.
The elaboration kick-started Sue's brain from the shocked stasis it was trapped in. If the Plague could also affect the night kin, however weakly, then that entirely buried the bigoted claim that they had intentionally caused it. Solanum's threats about this being some kind of divine punishment held much less water with it affecting everyone, not just the not-night kin. What had caused it, then? Just a cruel twist of Fate, or some other premeditated action? If it was the latter, then the suspects were cut out for them. But even then, how would they have done that? And why wouldn't they have already struck again?
Thoughts coiled inside Sue's head, tighter and tighter. Before they could cut off the oxygen to her brain, she remembered Daystar wasn't just knowledgeable about this whole incident; she was a witness. She had to have an idea of what had happened. "Who do you think brought the Plague?" Sue asked, her voice breathy and unfocused.
Daystar shrugged. "Nobody. Sicknesses happen, and spread once they do."
The weasel could see Sue's dissatisfaction with that answer, her head shaking involuntarily in response. She supposed she could elaborate. "If you keep tryin' to come up with someone to blame for everythin' that happens, you'll be wrong more often than not, Sue. Fate marches on. Plays cruel jokes on us. And some of those jokes maim and kill. And more importantly—if you won't be able to come up with someone to blame, then there will be plenty others that will do that for you."
The allusion to the hateful priest wasn't missed. However much the fearful part of Sue's mind wanted to argue, Daystar was right. Granted, she doubted whether mistakenly blaming Solstice's relatives for the plague could actually result in anything bad, but it set an unfortunate precedent. Without it, though, there was only a lake's worth of discomfort at the idea that nobody had caused the tragedy. That it was just the Caprice of the universe.
A discomfort she'd have to get used to. "Y-yeah. You're not wrong. Thanks," Sue nodded. The feelings coiling inside her body needed an outlet; breathing could only do so much. Part of her wanted to just get up and start walking in a circle until she'd sweated out every single last droplet of mental grime. Beyond being mentally unhygienic, though, it'd probably also take at least a week, and her leg only had a couple of hours left in it before it really demanded rest—if that.
A sight in her peripheral vision brought up a much, much better idea, though. The twilight made them difficult to make out, but Sue was almost certain it was Solstice walking towards the cemetery path, with the dark blob beside her probably being Jasper. She needed a distraction; she needed to talk to Solstice.
If she were to do that, though, she also needed to put her kids to sleep. Or just Twinkle, at least. The sugary dinner had surely pushed Joy's bedtime back a couple hours. And with the metal girl clearly knowing that her mom wasn't doing the best, Sue doubted she'd be okay with separating right now, anyway.
I hope Solstice won't mind the company.
After securing Twinkle to her shoulder, letting the ghost doze off for real, Sue held Joy close, got up, and grabbed her stick. "Gotta get going now. I hope you all enjoyed the visit." The barely concealed emotions left her sounding rather flat and nervous, but still genuine.
"Hard not to," Daystar chuckled.
"^Mhm,^" Thistle mumbled, actual exhaustion creeping into her mental voice.
"Yeah!! Do you think Kantaro is still awake, Sue?? I need to ask him more questions!!" Pollux woofed.
To Sue's relief, Snowdrop took the initiative, answering the kit's question for her. Sue didn't hear the exact words; the entirety of her mind was split between the girl beside her and the pair in the distance. Said pair seemed to have noticed their approach too, stopping and turning to look towards them. Solstice was clearly surprised, though positively, and the closer Sue got, the warmer the feelings inside her mentor became.
"Good evening Sue, good evening, Joy," Solstice greeted, passing the little girl an eager wave. "We were heading to the graveyard just now."
And with the topic of Aurora still fresh on both Forest Guardian's minds, there was only one possible follow-up.
"Would you want to join us?" / "Can I join you?"