Veyle crouched in front of a crooked cupboard, squinting at the mismatched jars and bundles crammed inside. The wood creaked under his fingers as he pushed aside a paper-wrapped bundle of dried roots and reached toward the back.
"Hey, do we have any piper eyewhilst?" he called out casually over his shoulder.
Behind him, the soft sound of bubbling broth filled the hut, along with the slow, rhythmic scrape of wood against iron. Seren didn't answer. Instead, she lifted one hand from her stirring and knocked three times against the side of the counter—firm, deliberate.
Veyle paused. "Okay, thanks," he said with a quick nod, like they'd done this a hundred times already.
He moved to a lower cupboard, opened it with a grunt, and finally spotted a squat glass jar with a cloudy tint and a faded label barely hanging on. "There you are," he muttered triumphantly.
He brought it over to the pot and tilted the jar. The crushed peppery herbs fell in with a faint hiss as they met the heat, and the scent rose up immediately—sharp, earthy, and kind of weirdly minty.
Seren kept stirring, her sleeves rolled to her elbows, eyes focused on the bubbling mix as if it might try to escape if she looked away. She didn't glance at him, but her pace slowed just slightly. Veyle wasn't sure if that meant "good job" or "don't mess it up," but either way, it felt like progress.
---
The stew let out a thick bubbling sigh, and the gentle scent of herbs and root vegetables filled the hut. Seren gave the pot one last stir before stepping aside, nodding once.
"Alright, smells done," Veyle muttered, grabbing a cloth. "Time to eat."
He carefully lifted the pot from the fire and carried it to the table, setting it down with a soft clunk. A little steam rose up, fogging his glasses for a second. Blinking through it, he turned back toward the cupboards, speaking casually.
"Bowls, bowls, bowls… where are the bowls—ah!" He opened a lower shelf and pulled out two slightly chipped wooden bowls, then grabbed the mismatched spoons from the small ceramic jar near the window. "Here we go."
Seren moved quietly around him, grabbing a threadbare cloth to wipe the table down, then returned to the corner and fetched the small container of salt she'd tied shut with twine.
Veyle placed the bowls neatly on the table, ladled the stew into each with slow, careful scoops, and then reached for the piper eyewhilst jar again. "A little more of this stuff. Honestly smells like ash and firewood but tastes way better."
He sat across from Seren and offered her bowl with both hands. She gave a small nod and signed a quick thank-you.
"Man," Veyle sighed as he plopped down onto the seat, "we really got everything, huh? Bowls, spoons, the weird flavor things, hot soup, a table… all that's missing is, I don't know, candles and a haunted violin in the corner."
Seren raised an eyebrow.
"…Don't ask. It's a thing from my world."
She gave a faint huff through her nose, and tucked her legs up onto her seat, ready to eat.
The bowls were empty, the pot scraped clean, and the room smelled like warm roots and cracked spice. The fire crackled low, casting sleepy shadows along the hut walls. Veyle sat on the floor now, legs sprawled out, back against the table leg, hands behind his head.
"I didn't think moss stew could be good, but here we are," he said, staring up at the ceiling. "Ten out of ten, would devour again."
Across from him, Seren sat cross-legged on her floor mat, idly threading dried stems into a little bundle. Her hands moved slow and practiced—careful, like everything she did.
Veyle glanced over. "…You always eat that fast, or are you just hiding the rest under the floorboards?"
She didn't look up. Just signed, I was hungry.
He grinned, rubbing his stomach. "Me too. Pretty sure I've burned more energy being confused than anything else."
Silence settled for a moment, not heavy, but calm. Outside, the lake lapped gently against the bank. The wind whispered through the gaps in the wooden walls, and somewhere in the distance, a frog croaked once, then stopped like it changed its mind.
Veyle exhaled. "It's kinda nice, y'know? This place. You. Even if you're spooky quiet."
Seren paused. Her hands stilled for a second… then resumed weaving.
He didn't press it. He just kept staring at the ceiling like it might have answers.
"…You're the first person that's made me feel like I'm not totally doomed here… also the only person ive seen but still "
The frog croaked again. Louder this time.
"Don't make that face," he muttered. "I know I'm dramatic."
The frog croaked again.
Then something cracked.
Not like a twig. Not like wind brushing the walls.
CRACK.
A deep, snapping groan—like the world itself had hiccuped wrong. Veyle jerked upright. "...Uh, Seren?"
Seren stopped moving. Wooden spoon still in hand, her head tilted slightly toward the window. Still as a statue.
Outside, a second croak echoed—but this time, it was low. So low it shook the shelves. Bowls rattled. The fire dipped.
Veyle whispered, "That's… not the frog I heard before."
And then the wall exploded.
BOOM.
A section of the hut caved inward, blown apart by a wet, slapping limb. Not an arm—not anything human. A giant, warty, greenish leg, covered in veins and slick with slime, burst through the side like it was made of paper. Webbed toes the size of frying pans dug into the floorboards, crushing the corner where the bowls had been.
Veyle shrieked and ducked behind the table. "IT'S A FROG?! SEREN, IT'S A GIGANTIC FROG?!"
Seren stared, unmoving, then rapidly signed:
『Hellborn. Amphibian class.』
The roof creaked. Something enormous heaved outside. A shadow passed over the firelight—a vast, bulging eye stared in through the smashed wall. It blinked sideways. Its slimy throat pulsed, and then—
RRRRRRUUUUUURRRRPP.
The belch shattered what was left of the window. The stench hit Veyle like a wall of rot and pondwater.
He gagged. "OH GODS I CAN TASTE IT—SEREN WHAT THE HELL IS IT DOING?!"
Territorial display, Seren signed, fast, eyes locked on the monstrosity.
The frog—if you could even call it that—dragged its entire body closer. The ground slid under it like mud, massive limbs thudding and splashing. It didn't hop. It oozed. Dragged. Its skin glistened like a wet swamp, its throat bubbling with slime.
Veyle reached blindly for her hand. "We have to go. Like, now. Or we are soup."
The frog opened its mouth.
Rows—rows—of tiny teeth.
"YEP!" Veyle screamed. "NOPE! NO THANK YOU!"
He yanked Seren and bolted toward the back of the hut, the firelight behind them dying out in the frog's gaping shadow.
The creature towers over them, its monstrous form blocking out the dim light from the swirling mist. Veyle glances at Seren, urgency in his eyes.
"Can we kill it?" he growls, his voice tight with frustration.
Seren's hands move quickly, signing no, each motion deliberate, but the desperation in her eyes matches his.
Veyle's lips curl into a sneer. "Shit… shit…" He curses under his breath, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. The creature growls, getting closer.
"I'll distract it. You run," he says, his voice sharp, forcing the command into the air.
Seren's hands move again, more frantic this time, signing no. She shakes her head, her expression pleading. She isn't going to leave him behind.
But Veyle's hand shoots out, grabbing her arm. His grip is firm, almost too firm, and without hesitation, he shoves her.
"Run!" he snarls, his words harsh and final.
Seren looks up at him one last time, her heart pounding in her chest. But with a flash of guilt in her eyes, she turns and bolts, disappearing into the mist.
Veyle watches her run, his chest tight with conflicting emotions. The creature's roar snaps him back to reality. He doesn't have time to think.
He pivots toward the beast, the adrenaline flooding his veins. He charges forward, fists raised, adrenaline pumping. He doesn't have a plan. He doesn't have time to think.
The creature snaps its jaws at him, but Veyle ducks and rolls to the side, narrowly avoiding its deadly teeth.
"Come on!" Veyle growls, swinging a wild punch at its face. The beast howls in frustration, its massive body swinging in his direction.
Veyle's breath comes in ragged gasps, his eyes locked on the beast.
"I HAVE TO BUY HER TIME!
YOU CAN COUNT ON ME SEREN!!!"