A few hours later, Theora could still not forget that moment. It kept circling in her head, making her all fuzzy. How had she even done it? It was a total mystery to her. 

She’d used her lips to take Dema’s temperature from her forehead, and then… She had been overwhelmed by something she hadn’t expected at all.

Because, in retreating her lips and softly wetting them in a nervous gesture, Theora had realised what Dema tasted like. Dema having a specific taste wasn’t something she’d ever considered, but now here she was, with that cursed knowledge. Cursed, because she really wanted to taste it again.

Dema tasted of salt. Not just table salt, though — it was a complex, colourful taste of minerals, so layered that it had an almost sweetness to it lying beneath. She was so stumped she failed to actually take Dema’s temperature, so for a full minute, she’d agonised as to whether she should do it again.

In the end, she hadn’t, because she would have felt greedy and a little disturbed with herself. Getting carried away by a sick girl’s taste and failing to pursue her proper duties as a caretaker? Absolutely unacceptable. But… she still felt bad, because now, she didn’t actually know whether Dema’s fever had gone down or not. Theora was a huge failure, but that hadn’t been news at all. Instead, she simply decided to do her best and not get carried away by Dema’s incredible looks, taste, and scent even while she was sick.

As these thoughts jumped all around in her head, Theora kept pursuing her duties around the shed and in the village. That is, until she eventually laid eyes on another monstrosity approaching the hill.

This one had the size of a blue whale. Its steps caused ripples in the ground, like soft earthquakes, and each time, its six feet sank in one or two arms deep into the soft meadow. The body itself had a blimp-like form. It made Theora think of the time when blimps still existed. Or, maybe someone had reinvented them by now, but it had been a long time since she’d seen one.

Eventually, the creature came to a halt right in front of her.

“Please go home,” she softly intoned.

It had only been a matter of time until larger beings arrived, but still, it was slightly bothersome. She really needed to gather more firewood, and find a few more mushrooms for Dema to eat, because apparently, those were her favourite. In fact, she kept begging for the deadly poisonous ones, but Theora refused to collect them for her.

The creature stared down at Theora through its fifteen large, muddy-green eyes, of which the largest one was situated in the front of its head. She simply looked up with an empty gaze, hands dangling to the side of her body, one of which held a chanterelle. Theora didn’t want to kill the creature in the first place, but having a body as large as this lying around would spell even more trouble.

Slowly, the being lowered itself down to her, grinning widely, its oval head merging into the rest of its slimming body behind. As its lips parted, neat and long whisky teeth bared themselves to her. Then, it opened its mouth, ready to devour.

Theora raised a leg to step on its gigantic lower lip. She held on to one of the long teeth to balance herself, and then stretched her upper body inside the big mouth to place the tiny chanterelle on top of the very tip of the monster’s tongue.

“All you get,” she said. “The rest is for Dema.”

She hopped out, gesturing to where the creature had come from. “Now, back home.”

And, to her relief, the creature obeyed.

“I lost a chanterelle,” Theora admitted when she returned to Dema a while later.

“What a bummer!” she exclaimed, earning herself another coughing fit. “That’s why you should get me death caps,” she added when she’d calmed down.

“Why are you so insistent on eating poisoned food? I won’t give you any. When I said you should communicate your wants and needs, you realised there were limits, right?”

Dema smirked. “So a death cap that can’t even kill me is off-limits, but a kiss ain’t! My, that’s good to know. Wish I had my notes. Can you write it down for me?”

Theora stared. She stared for almost a minute. Her feet remained stuck to the ground, until finally, she started moving to the heap of Dema’s travelling clothes, and pulled out some of Dema’s paper, and her pen. “Just dictate for me what you want me to write.”

Dema bit her lips through her grin. “Alright. Fine! I will. So, here it comes!”

And then, she proceeded to, as slowly and innocently as she could, spell out the words ‘Little rabbit is the biggest hottie in the world.’ As the sentence went on, Theora’s writing slowed down dramatically, until each letter became a visible obstacle. And yet, taking all of her strength, she persisted to the end.

It was the least she could do.

“That’s not at all what you wanted to write down at first,” she said.

“Why, I already forgot what that was!” Dema whined. “Had to come up with something on the spot.”

“No, you didn’t. It’s not like I had to write something down for you at all cost.”

Dema giggled. “Oh, you have no idea! This gave me, like, 500 more years to live!”

“Then why do you keep asking for death caps? Are you a masochist? You are clearly in pain, Dema. I can see that. And it hurts me too.”

That last bit took her quite a bit of effort to bring out.

At that, Dema raised her eyebrows with a little frown. “Like, I get it, this all sucks real bad,” she eventually sighed. “But, I just like being alive! And that also means being sick every now and then. Not something that happens a lot to me, and you make it all worth it! I wanna… cherish all the, like, facets! When do you think I’m gonna be able to eat a death cap again without the poison going all boom before reaching my nerves! Damn regeneration, ruining all the fun.”

Theora couldn’t say she understood or could relate to a single word of that, but she was talking to the girl who voluntarily stripped to jump into hip-deep snow, only to then be freezing and sniffling for hours. Maybe there was simply no logic to be found in Dema’s actions.

“Anyway, I put in my efforts so you can become better quickly,” Theora said. “So I will not do anything to prolong your suffering.” After all, it was all her fault.

“Alright, fine! This will be my first and last big sickness! And I shall only cherish it by means of your doting!”

“Yes,” Theora said. “That is what I want to hear. Except I don’t do any ‘doting’ at all.”

“I’m pretty sure you are!”

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Dema shrugged. “By the way, something on your mind? You seem a li’l tired.”

Theora gulped, and took a deep breath.

“I’m worried about you,” she said.

“Why, there’s no need!” Saying that, Dema accidentally coughed up a splash of blood. “I’m all good, promise!”

“Yes,” Theora said. “I will make sure you are safe.”

And she meant it. With whatever capabilities she had, Theora would make sure Dema was safe. Except, her capabilities were very limited, and might require uncomfortable sacrifices, depending on how things would pan out.

Theora hadn’t slept since she’d received her quest reward. There was no affording to sleep. She really couldn’t lose focus even for a single second. She simply felt it, in the form of a vague premonition, a kind of unsettling anxiety, that something was about to happen.

She was sure of it. 

The System was inching closer.