“Mother tried to teach me how to survive,” Rhonda said, pausing what she was doing.

Really? Londa asked.

“It did not bode well for either of us.”

She’s a heck of a hard woman, ain’t she?

“I’m a difficult child.”

Do tell? Londa flashed a sharp grin in Rhonda’s head.

Rhonda snorted.

“I cried for Father, and she cried for him also because we frustrated each other. I did not take to her lessons. It did not make sense to me at the time. I had all that I wanted at home, and if I wanted more, I’d be given more.”

You’re gonna make the poor jealous, Rhonda.

Rhonda ignored the snide remark. “I did not understand Mother was trying to teach me how to make due if I ever lacked. I should’ve listened to her more.”

You’re calling her Mother more intimately.

“Does it matter?” Rhonda

It was a bright morning after three uninterrupted days of slumber. A loud growl and a painful pinch from her stomach had jolted the giantess awake. She was all sorts of hungry now, which had pushed her to find an old, rotten-looking tree trunk quickly.

She was in the middle of prying open the bark while she shared a moment of her character’s background with Londa. Her hunger pushed for her to continue the breakfast gathering, but something about Londa’s tone was bothering the giantess.

“Are you mad with me?”

I can never, queen!

“Londa, stop it. You’re being mean. I can tell.”

Silence rang loudly through their shared mental space.

In my childhood, I was an urchin in back-alleys and slums. I had to struggle every day to survive.

“R-really?” Rhonda stammered.

Every day, I would wait outside at a place where the rich people would visit. I would hold up a cup, smiling at them as I begged. Some of them smiled back and said sorry, and they don’t have anything to give. Others looked over me as if I didn’t exist. Some looked at me with bad nasty ideas in their eyes.

Rhonda refrained from asking what those bad nasty ideas could entail.

“Was there no work?” Rhonda asked hesitantly.

I didn’t want to die in the mines.

“Oh.”

Most days, I did not eat, Rhonda. Here, look.

Listening to a piece of Londa’s experience was horrible enough, but then Londa pressed upon Rhonda an image of the past.

Rhonda saw through Londa’s eyes when she was a little child with dirty hands and a pitiful-looking cup. In that vision, Londa was looking up to an abundance of people that were dressed strangely. Like clothing from another world.

The people in the vision stood way taller than Londa’s feeble body. Most, if not all of them, ignored her. The fragment of memory was so intense Rhonda could feel the echo of hunger⁠… no… starvation. Londa was starving, and she had been starving for a long time. The suffering was so terrible Rhonda could feel it.

Rhonda shuddered, cold sweat slicking her back. “Please stop.”

Londa took the memory away. Your little pet grew up rough, Rhooooonda.

The giantess opened her mouth. Then she closed it.

She was dumbstruck, which made her wonder what was happening between them. To Rhonda, it appeared there was a growing schism. Was this supposed to happen? Was it healthy? Or had this been something lurking in the dark and now rearing its ugly head?

Then the answer suddenly came to Rhonda, and she couldn’t stop herself from blurting it out.

“The more our Intellect rises.”

The more we remember.

“The more we… find ourselves at odds with each other.”

Rhonda looked to her left as if to imagine Londa standing next to her. She could see Londa falling into the exercise willingly, shaping herself into a tiny malnourished version of the giantess. Despite her growling stomach and hunger pangs, Rhonda removed herself from the tree trunk and circled Londa’s imaginary form.

Londa turned her head to follow the Giantess at first. Then, out of nowhere, a cup appeared in Londa’s hand. She turned it in her grasp and studied it.

Compared to me, you got it all.

“I’m terribly sorry, Londa.”

Londa nodded. I can see when and where I started fantasizing about being this powerful, sexy, well-fed woman. I remember the chicken bone I was chewing on when I first thought of being… you.

Rhonda frowned, uncertain of what to say. Should she be thankful she was given this existence? She hadn’t wanted it at first. She was trying to make the most out of it now, learning to coexist with the character. She should say something, but she could not shake being at a loss for words.

Maybe that’s why I was so in love with you. You’re the perfect me.

Londa crushed the cup in her hand.

Rhonda stared.

I’m starting to realize I got mixed feelings, Rhonda.

“We… we can work through this,” Rhonda suggested. “No more pet and mistress. No more unequal respect. It has run its course, but I won’t further it if it’s complicating our relationship.”

Hm. Londa crossed her arms. I still have my doubts.

Rhonda blinked. “Really?”

I don’t have what it takes to endure what you can endure.

“Londa, I...”

Can I go for a while?

Rhonda, without knowing what else to say, said, “Yes.”

Londa’s image flickered away. The space she occupied in Rhonda’s head lightened as Londa fled to the far reaches of their mind.

The giantess inhaled deep drafts. Her heart was beating fast. She was uncertain why she was afraid. Then she went over the entire conversation in her head and came to an alarming conclusion.

What if Londa grew to detest Rhonda in a very extreme fashion? What if the other personality decided she wanted to take over and be the giantess? She said she didn’t think she could endure what Rhonda could, but the giantess was uncertain if she could rely on Londa’s words right now while she was… changing.

Rhonda wondered if she would be against Londa’s takeover. It would mean they could switch places, leaving Rhonda to rest as much as she wanted. She wouldn’t have to feel hunger anymore, and she wouldn’t have to work so hard to survive.

Rhonda looked up at the bright blue sky while her head swam with many considerations. Increased Intellect was supposed to be a boon. Instead, it was adding to her burdens. Could this be resolved if they avoided further point additions to Intellect?

“No.” Rhonda sighed. “This is part of us growing up.”

A sudden smile crossed her face. A chuckle followed it. Strangely, Rhonda’s uneasy mood lightened. A new realization struck her as hard as the development between her and Londa. It was funny enough to make Rhonda tear up a little. Only after she regathered her composure did she voice her discovery.

“Mother, is this what you had to deal with when raising me? When I was growing more defiant with size?”

It wasn’t the most appropriate analogy to make⁠—Rhonda’s relationship with Londa being like a mother to a child. The last noble giantess was still growing herself. If anyone should be the Mother, it should be Londa. She had served in that context while Rhonda was a simpleton with 2 in Intellect.

“Maybe Londa’s worried I’m growing more self-reliant.”

Or maybe Rhonda should refocus on feeding herself. That would go better than making assumptions and accusations without talking with Londa further.

Rhonda returned to peeling open the tree trunk. The bark cracked stridently. Wood chips rained down as the giantess tore the trunk open down its side.

There, in a chewed-out hollow, Rhonda found hundreds of wriggling grubs. Each one was a little longer than her thumb and just as thick. They had beady black eyes on white bodies; many of them turned to look at her curiously.

They were all Lvl 1s since they were infants. She would not get any experience from what she planned to do, which was okay with her growling stomach.

Rhonda salivated, her hands hovering over the plump baby bugs. They would help fuel her on her quest to ease her survival experience. They would help her consider ways to work-out the inner-conflict between her and Londa.

They would taste absolutely scrumptious because she remembered how they tasted when Mother shared one with her many centuries ago. Despite their frustrations with each other, Rhonda knew Mother… her character’s mother… loved her.

She would figure out a way to work with Londa even if they had to contend with the ugliness of each other’s diverging personalities.

Somehow.