Fortunately for Ginger’s back, the other construction workers expressed their joy at his return in less... abrupt ways. That’s not to say hugs weren’t present. The opposite, if anything. The bipedal rhino might have dwarfed the technicolor lizard to a comical degree, but the large high five the two soon exchanged left the gray one reeling much more than Ginger. At least, if them shaking their hand off in pain afterwards was any sign.
The group’s excited chatter was so loud that even if Sue had known their language, she doubted she’d be able to make out more than a few scattered words.
Granite got his hug, the rhino got their high-five, and the spiky brown pangolin got... a chest bump. Suppose that was the safest course of action with their ridiculous claws and the many spikes covering their back. Or at least, the safest course of action for the other side. Once the two had finished that greeting, the pangolin kept going as Ginger pulled up some of his loose skin. Their constant chitters grew louder and happier as they pulled the lizard into another hug.
Judging by his brief hissed remark and a chuckle, the lizard commented on it all with a joke of sorts. That’s not how it felt like to the builders, however. Whatever he’d said, it left them... sappier, their flare-up of joy dimming and with sorrow now underlining it, even as they tried to keep their minds away from it. That held true for everyone except for the red robot... creature.
Now that they’d caught her attention, she’d realized they’ve been keeping towards the back of the group. And that they haven’t spoken up at all yet. For a moment, Sue grew concerned, thinking about what might’ve caused that colder reception. The idea of the colorful lizard being about to receive a heaping portion of bigotry from a bunch he’d clearly considered friends was harrowing to consider-
And thankfully, not true.
Soon after she’d noticed the metal one’s silence, so did the rest of their group, proceeding to then apparently introduce the two to each other. Curt handshake paled in comparison with all the other displays of affection earlier, but it palpably put the robot at ease. Only for something said shortly after to make them go wide eyed and stare down at Ginger, their following question delivered in what sounded like highly compressed-sounding buzzes.
Someone needs their bitrate upped.
The moment of tension that followed didn’t last long as the group kept talking amongst each other, the robot soon easing out around the night kin. As they cooled off, Sue glanced off to the side to check on how Basil was doing- only to find the spot beside her empty. The bee turned out to be in the middle of chatting with Birch in the crowd some distance away, the nameless caterpillar now in their other half’s arms.
Red robot spoke up another question, catching Sue’s attention again. Their speech was distinctive for all the ear-grating reasons, but it’s not like it was a deliberate thing. Ginger perked up at whatever was just said, his answer slow and uncertain, as if he hadn’t quite understood the question. Undeterred, the metal bug tried again, first pointing at Ginger’s orange-red crest, then at... himself, and lastly at the pile of roof tiles nearby.
Something about color, maybe? The tiles’ shade was a coincidental match for the row of scales on top of Ginger’s head, after all.
Regardless if that was the topic or not, Ginger’s response made it clear that it didn’t matter. His answer was brief and capped off with as large of a shrug as his lanky body could provide. Not a particularly in-depth one, but the red metal one seemed to be content with it, acknowledging it with a nod.
That’s one potentially awkward discussion resolved.
The chat continued to relax following the metal one’s question as excitement eased out into contentment. Sue’s horn definitely appreciated that change in mood, its burning pain subsiding as the mood calmed down.
Everyone stay calm or I’m gonna get wildly uncomfortable.
The chatter continued once Basil made his way back, joining the group now that he’d emptied his arms. With the only gestures being occasionally pointing at a nearby building, it was rather hard to follow the chat, but it didn’t matter.
It wasn’t her chat to follow and partake in, after all.
Meanwhile, Sue took the opportunity to gather her bearings. She rolled her shoulders and shifted her weight from side to side, trying to manage her exhaustion. The pit stop was much appreciated, even if a seat would’ve been preferred. Hopefully, she wouldn’t have to stand beside the group looking dumb for much longer, though.
Well, maybe not ‘looking dumb’, but ‘looking even dumber’.
Ginger’s raised hiss tackled Sue out of that worrisome train of thought, the once-human following the lizard’s eyeline into the crowd to find Willow on its other end. The sight brought the builders’ no less joy than it did her. Everyone who could speak was chiming in to pass greetings over to the medic.
Their response wasn’t very reassuring.
Past proximity let Sue just barely pick their aura out of the passersby. They were understandably on edge, either in the middle of or about to grab supplies to treat Sundance’s injury. That much was perfectly understandable, and of course, nobody was about to pull them into a spirited discussion with their duties on the line. It was what followed that unnerved Sue in particular, a sudden mid-step shift in mood once they’d looked toward the builders.
Surprise. Reassurance.
Shock. Fear. Alarm.
The emotional change was so abrupt it almost made them trip there and then, and again after they had looked away and upped their pace, not even acknowledging the group with their own wave. Sue didn’t want to assume anything. There were many reasons for a response like that, but it just left her feeling a bit... worried.
Thankfully, she wouldn’t be left to stew in those unpleasant emotions for too long, Willow’s uncertain reaction evidently prompting Ginger to get a move on. He caught Sue’s attention with a pat on her free arm and pointed further into Moonview’s streets. Basil wasted no time in resuming his helpful spot from earlier, flying beside her.
As the crippled Forest Guardian and the helpful bee prepared to move, the technicolor lizard did one last round around the builders’ team. Predictably, him having to head off only sparked further questions, most of them of the unnerved sort.
Figures when it’s the first time they’d seen their friend in years, and now he has to get going after just a few minutes...
He couldn’t answer all the questions, but he could give a broader statement or two. The first one left the group rather somber, and the second perked them up again, especially as the lizard accompanied it by pointing toward the Newmoon path.
Sue could almost hear trip plans start clicking together in the builders’ heads.
With the last couple goodbyes and Sue grabbing Basil’s stinger for support, the trio of various mobility headed off from the construction site. The team they’d left behind took a long while to resume their usual work following... that. Not that Sue could blame them. To various extents, they all felt like they’d seen a ghost. An actual ghost, not… Hazel ghost.
Not literally dead, but in a social sense... yeah, pretty much dead.
Ginger continued to catch passersby’s attention as the group pushed through the streets and narrow paths, but less and less of it each time. Suppose everyone who cared enough to see a night kin in Moonview had already done so, leaving folks that either weren’t aware of the significance of Ginger’s presence, or just didn’t care.
There wasn’t much point in trying to distinguish the two. Either option was fine, as far as Sue was concerned.
Sometimes it was easy to tell, though.
A few more minutes of mostly silent marching later, they had finally ended up at their intended destination. Poppy’s stall. Seems she’s been at it for long enough for Ginger to be well aware of the sheer quality and quantity of the goods she could fix up on a whim, which surprised Sue not at all.
Hopefully Poppy falls in either the ‘doesn’t know’ or ‘doesn’t care’ group. My stomach’s starting to complain.
The truth wouldn’t be revealed for a while longer, however, with Hazel ghosting the counter this time. Poppy, meanwhile, was little more than a blur in the back of the kitchen, seemingly in the middle of putting together no less than three meals simultaneously. The sunset’s faint light didn’t make it easy to tell just what exactly she was fixing.
Especially with the ghost’s grunted greeting, the sound interrupting Sue’s focus.
Sue felt mischief briefly spike in Hazel’s mind as the ghost eyed her out, but absolutely nothing when she’d glanced over at Ginger. She was endlessly grateful once the lizard picked up the hassle of ordering, muttering something to himself as he examined the menu above him before passing a short order on. With the hissed description passed on, Ginger focused on the fairy cook, eyes narrowing almost as if he was leering at her.
The once-human couldn’t tell if that’s what it was, but she certainly hoped not.
Eventually, the not-leer died down, Ginger’s body language slumping afterwards. His usual grimace was hard to read, but the expression that followed felt... sad, in a way. Sue wasn’t even sure whether he was actually feeling down or if it’s that just her reading too much into it, but she figured that some reassurance wouldn’t hurt.
She carefully let go of Basil’s stinger while looking around for an appropriate part of Ginger’s body to use for some patted affirmation. The loose green skin covered most of his back and shoulders, discounting them as options, which left... his thin arms, maybe. Not too much surface area, especially with Sue’s current hands being substantially larger than they used to be, but hopefully, the support would be understood regardless.
*pat pat*
Nope, didn’t work.
Fortunately, Ginger hadn’t interpreted the gesture negatively, instead just left... confused, probably, judging by his expression. If not that, maybe some other gesture? Just something, anything to convey reassurance?
A thumbs up?
Her hand was still capable of that gesture, even if it looked really awkward with two fewer fingers to offset the sticking thumb. No initial reaction either, leaving the Forest Guardian worried about possibly seriously screwing things up by now, or even accidentally offending him-
...or neither.
The gesture came off silly with how small his paws were. Goofy as it looked, it was still unmistakably an attempt at returning her gesture. A very confused attempt, Ginger’s face looking less like it was trying to reassure and more like it was trying to crack a dumb puzzle, but an attempt all the same.
Local multicolor lizards discovered to have mirror neurons, more at elev-
*eeeeEEEEE!*
The squeak was sudden and deafening, the entire trio in front of the stall jumping in response. Before they could even figure out what had just happened, the cook was already on the move, tossing the three bowls in her arms in the air as she ran out of the pantry. Sue didn’t even have the time to process said bowls landing on the nearby counters with perfect grace, not a single piece of their contents spilling out, the pink blur’s arrival cutting off her rattled brain.
And once Poppy got there, there were no survivors.
Her squeeze was somehow as strong as Granite’s from earlier, the sound that left Ginger at the hug was almost like a dog toy. And the fairy wouldn’t even stop there, still holding Ginger as she took off into a pirouette. She maintained balance through magic unknown, barely avoiding smacking either of the other two with the flailing lizard.
If not for the bright joy going through the fairy’s mind, Sue would’ve almost thought she was about to pile drive or toss him.
A few spins later, she let go of him, Ginger’s eyes spinning as he desperately tried to maintain balance to the backdrop of Poppy’s twinkly laughter. Or at least, initially twinkly, the fairy’s laugh growing louder and more bellowing once she’d spotted everyone’s confused expressions.
That’s right Hazel, for once it’s someone else laughing at your expense.
Once Ginger was no longer at risk of spinning cartoon stars spontaneously appearing above his head, he could respond to the sudden greeting with his own. Regardless of what was said, it clarified exactly nothing for Hazel. The prankster joined in the group after phasing through the counter, massive eyes and cartoonish smile conveying her confusion in perfect clarity.
And then, her fluster once Poppy had snuck in a smooch on her cheek.
The assorted onlookers had recovered from Poppy’s outburst enough by then to react to the fairy’s follow-up. The chorus of Basil’s buzzes, Ginger’s hisses and Sue’s... laughter conveyed their amusement at the ghost’s embarrassment, bringing forth shame to the shameless.
Good.
Poppy wouldn’t even wait for her wife to finish recovering before introducing their impromptu guest. Her pink arm wrapped around Ginger’s shoulders as the other pointed at him with pride and fondness, in gestures and thoughts alike.
Guess these two go way back.
As cranky as Hazel might’ve been after being put on the spot for once, her wife’s burning enthusiasm helped immensely in melting through any unpleasant emotions, interest slowly creeping in to replace them. Not straightforward interest, of course. That wouldn’t fit her image at all. Instead, it was the kind that feigned disinterest, maybe even mockery, choosing questions carefully to piece things together without appearing too curious.
...
Her injury might’ve made her horn sting like mad when Sue focused in on what the surrounding people were feeling, but goodness, it could manage some impressive feats. Especially now that she’d had a bit of practice. And she didn’t even need to link up with others, she just... felt it all. Multiple tuggings overlapping, interest and insecurity combining into secondary and tertiary emotions. Three basic colors mixing to create a painting, a handful of tones coming together to form a symphony.
It all just made sense to her.
Sue was getting used to this, for better or worse-
The abrupt shift in mood at one of the fairy’s lines took Sue out of her pondering.
A glance at the rest of the group revealed Basil’s and Hazel’s shock, the latter much more subdued, Poppy’s exasperation, and Ginger’s... nothing she could sense. Poppy’s groan might not have clarified much on its own, but once she’d explained something to the massive bee, the atmosphere began to loosen up.
Seems a couple someones only now figured out just what this half-rainbow creature is, pfft.
As exaggerated as Basil’s startle was, it didn’t take long for it to die down. It first turned into pensiveness, and then determination, as the bee hovered towards the lizard, buzzing something directly at him. Ginger’s responses sure didn’t sound spirited either way, his expression offering nothing to go off.
Guess as shocked as Basil was, Ginger didn’t care much?
The exchange of bows that followed was probably some sort of formal greeting-
*tap tap*
Huh?
The taps on Sue’s free arm made her glance towards where they’d come from. Somewhat predictably, she saw nothing, leaving Sue blinking a couple times and confusion before looking back-
Just to see Hazel’s grimace from up close, shaded as if only lit up from below, and with no sound to accompany it.
Aside from Sue’s own subsequent shriek of fear, at least.
She tried to dash back out of reflex, her flight response acting out despite her dysfunctional leg. In moments, she was falling, only able to hear her own racing heart, too paralyzed to move-
Just in time for Basil to circle around her and stop her fall.
A loud grunt left him as the flat sides of his stingers supporting her back, the bee managing despite his smaller size. Hazel’s laughter filled Sue’s ears as she worked through all the Astonishment in her system. Her body gradually unclenched to the tune of a fresh new argument between the spook and the insect.
Poppy might’ve been amused and Hazel might’ve been oh so proud of herself, but Basil was very, very annoyed. His buzzes and clicks kept rising in volume as the prankster brushed his words aside, again and again. Their discussion kept growing in volume, Basil’s disarmed stingers swinging from side to side in increasingly animated ways.
The cook just found it all funny.
Sue, meanwhile, was of half a mind to get back at Hazel, briefly considering repeating her accidental attack on Basil but on the ghost instead, and very deliberately this time. A terrible, messed-up idea, and she knew it well. It was something that would cast a serious shade on her as a person, but she was much too drained by today to keep her emotions in check, every little bit of emotional exhaustion burning up into anger-
Thankfully for everyone around, Ginger knew just what to do.
Before either side of the argument could react, the lizard grabbed the backs of both their heads and bonked them together, single-handedly redirecting their combined ire onto him. Ire, and attention, Ginger using the latter by speaking up to both of them.
If what she’d seen of Newmoon was representative, he had some experience with dealing with superpowered creatures getting angry at each other from time to time. Whatever he said, it seemed to work. Basil and Hazel alike kept deflating for a while, emotions cooling by the moment.
At least, until he put the ghost on the spot again. Tried to defend herself as she might, Ginger’s barrage cut through her every excuse, much like Willow’s from a few days ago.
Roast her ghost ass.
Eventually, Hazel finally relented, not feeling any well about it all. Thankfully for her and Sue alike, she wouldn’t be forced to apologize to her again. Instead, she grumbled to herself a bit before... collapsing underground in a very literal way, phasing downwards until she was entirely out of view.
Must be nice, being able to throw a hissy fit and just disappear literally anywhere like that.
The mood of the rest of the group was... uneasy to put it lightly, though Sue was too wound up to pay much attention. Poppy had gone from elated, to amused, to now worried, Ginger’s reassurances not helping much. Basil clearly didn’t enjoy how Ginger had broken up his earlier spat either, one stinger reaching up and rubbing the area of the unintentional headbutt as he floated over to Sue.
She had no idea what exact words he’d just vocalized, but a pretty solid hunch of what he meant by them.
“I-I’m okay Basil, don’t worry. What’s up with her, I-I swear to Duck...”
Her still sticking to that name probably constituted a grave heresy of some sort. However, with her last interaction with said deity being having her brain melted over something that didn’t end up mattering at all, she didn’t care.
Not that Night Father had been all that useful either-
*w-woof, woof?*
Oh no.
The barks were well familiar by now, their sounds providing immense whiplash to Sue’s psyche. Spark’s physical presence was comforting as the fox got to nuzzling her leg, but the once-human knew well that this was going to be a very transient relief. The lil’ firefox wasn’t despairing, but she was palpably confused.
She must’ve not known yet, but was already suspecting something.
“H-hey Spark. I’m- I’m sorry...”
Sue’s somber-sounding response sure didn’t reassure the fox either, her woofs growing a bit more insistent afterwards. The occasional questions Sue could make out were accompanied by hints of distress. She had no way of responding to these and Spark knew that, the tension of being put on a distressing spot like that threatening to sink the once-human to a new emotional low-
And once more, Ginger thankfully intervened.
His voice was much lower than before, his body language slumped and expression the most distraught Sue had seen him be yet. With a couple of growls, he caught Spark’s attention, and with a couple more, everyone else’s too. Their combined shock made Sue feel unwell.
Especially as it changed into something much worse.
Spark’s barks turned quiet and squeaky as panic gripped her tiny body, the small fox immediately running up to the night kin lizard and barking non stop. His hisses helped little, a look around not seeing either any of the medics or the wounded vixen.
There was one obvious spot for her to have ended up at, though, and both Sue and Spark realized it at around the same time.
The vixen wasted no time before taking off further into Moonview. Ginger’s startled growl in her direction was cut off by Sue passing by moments later, the Forest Guardian following in Spark’s footsteps at whichever pace she was capable of. Her body was sore, her horn smarted like a motherfucker, the negative emotions around her amplified the pain, but the adrenaline cruising through her system offset it all.
Adrenaline and the desire to comfort a terrified child.
Sue could almost navigate these few streets from memory. Turn to the left, then another, a few buildings forward, then to the right. Straight on for a decent stretch, left turn again, and there it was.
Willow’s clinic.
Spark’s distraught howl reached the other two before they’d even turned the last corner, the sound freezing the blood in their veins. Sue pushed on, sheer focus dulling everything but the fox’s sadness out. She’d only barely squeezed through the clinic’s door frame as she caught up with the fiery cub, the sight inside equal parts sad and reassuring.
Sundance hadn’t gotten any worse in the meantime, breathing deeply in her coma. The former couldn’t be said for Spark, though. Twin streams of tears ran down her cheeks as she scrambled up onto the bed, nestling in next to her wounded mom. She kept constantly barking at her, with pain, fright, and worry mixing in her every sound. More pleading than questions.
Even despite Solstice’s previous reassurances that the older fox would be alright, the sheer misery radiating from Spark made Sue doubt it. It could’ve easily just been infectious emotions, virulent despair, but that awareness didn’t make them any less effective. Especially when combined with Sue’s utter exhaustion.
Please make it, Sundance, please...
Steps approaching from behind cut her idle prayer off. That particular aura was familiar enough by now for Sue to not have to even look. She cleared the path for Willow with a side step, only now realizing that Ginger had followed her in at some point. The medic greeted her on autopilot as the entirety of their unnerved focus redirected towards the situation on the bed. Their words wavered, straining to sound as comforting as Willow was capable of.
Thankfully, even pretend calm was enough to reach Spark. The medic’s reassurance combined with their gentle pets, gradually working their way through the fox’s panic. At one point, they went quiet and guided the lil’ fox right towards her mom’s front, to the exact spot that would make listening to her heartbeat and breaths the easiest. Beat by beat, the little one slowly eased out, coming to grips with what had just happened, panic dulling into sorrow.
In any other circumstances, Willow choosing to move the entire bed instead of asking Spark to hop off so that they could reach Sundance’s back would’ve been hilarious to Sue, but... not now.
Not like this.
The actual physical injury was barely noticeable from just a couple of meters away, looking less like something that had almost killed her and more like the result of a particularly annoying knife mishap. To think she’d almost died at that moment, to think Solstice had almost died, that she would’ve certainly died if she was standing only half a step forward…
Sue felt anger grip her again. At Juniper, at this entire nightmare that she was risking life and limb to help untangle, this mess of old wounds, grudges and xenophobia, one with what felt like no answers, especially right now.
One she had to fix on her own.
Sue had no idea which one was the bigger idiot here. Her, or the asshole deity that thought she could even undo this much past trauma.
Sniffling coming from the direction of the bed mellowed the once-human’s raging emotions, her desire to comfort Spark brighter than ever. Her muscles complained as she forced herself to move. She kept her grunting in, lifting her crutch off the ground for the umpteenth time, pushing toward the vixen one painful step at a time.
Sue had no words, that much was neither unexpected nor new. But what she had was touch, comfort, and Spark needed as much of those as she could provide.
Low purrs, slowing breath. Despite everything, she was helping.
Even if Spark herself was too busy to acknowledge her gestures, Willow did, offering her a tired smile and a weak nod as they reapplied the bandages. It was at that point, though, that they noticed Ginger again. Their reaction was the same, a discouraging, cold startle.
Sue deeply hoped it wasn’t what she feared it was.
Ginger left the clinic soon after, taking away the source of that unpleasant sensation, but not ending it altogether. Discomfort kept churning inside of Willow’s head. If Sue wasn’t both battered, mentally drained, and physically exhausted, she might’ve even tried to link up and investigate just what had happened.
Instead, she just gave Spark one last pat and followed Ginger out.
He was waiting for her just around the corner, leaning against the nearby building. His expression was unpleasant and pensive to the best of Sue’s ability to tell, but she didn’t have enough time to investigate into it before he’d noticed her arrival. Ginger conveyed a new direction for them to walk towards with a tilt of his head as he straightened out.
Thankfully, at least he had enough manners to slow down to her ever-slowing pace.
The looming sunset bathed Moonview in a fierce orange light as they headed eastward, shadows growing even longer by the moment. Sue had no idea where they were going or why, too exhausted to do much thinking anymore. Everything she’d seen so far today made her hope beyond hope that this was it, that nothing else terrible would happen.
Before she knew it, there was a warm wetness on her cheeks. A couple of stray tears welled on her chin and eventually splashed against her horn, the resulting cold shocks forcing her to stop.
It took Ginger a hot minute to notice; the lizard clearly lost in his own thoughts. Once he did, he walked over to her, checking up on her to whatever extent he was capable of. Which was almost nothing, but even him pausing and waiting for her to get better was very appreciated, more than he’d ever know.
Just have to focus and make it through the rest of today. Just have to make it through. Just have to make it-
“Ginger?”
Solstice’s voice was the single most comforting sensation Sue could’ve asked for in the moment. She shambled a couple of steps toward the older Forest Guardian out of reflex at hearing it. A quick check with her sight and sixth sense made it clear that the Mayor wasn’t doing much better than her. Unkempt hair, glistening eyes, shaking posture. Even the blue tattoos seemed more washed out than usual, though that might’ve just been the lighting.
“Eyyyup. Figured I might use the opportunity to look around, y’know. Doubt I’ll ever get one again. Went to meet some old friends. See what everyone’s been up to, how Moonview has grown, and such. Don’t worry, I’ll be heading out soon. Just want to check on one more thing.”
The Mayor responded with a shaking nod. She was clearly unsure about the whole idea, but by now it was much too late to say no.
What happened, happened, and there’s nothing anyone can do.
“Alright. I suppose that’s only fair for your help. Are you feeling okay, Sue?”
No, no I'm not, and we both know that.
“I-I’ll manage. H-how are you holding up?”
They both also knew that this was a question better left unanswered.
“Sundance has gotten medical attention, at least. Has anyone told Spark-“
“Yep, she ran into us and I had to explain what Juniper did. She’s cuddled up to Sundance now, over at the clinic.”
Even trying to imagine all the pain the entire situation must’ve caused the little fox sent shivers down Solstice’s back. The older Forest Guardian was relieved deep down that it wasn’t her who had to pass the dire news on.
“Alright. Thank you for that, Ginger.”
“Ain’t no problem.”
Sue could only stare as Solstice chewed through it all, so many thoughts swirling inside her head that it was difficult to make out anything more precise than general distress.
Might as well just get this done with.
“Lead the way, Ginger.”
“Sure thing.”
The lizard’s voice was flat and tense, a marked contrast compared to when Sue’d first interacted with him in Newmoon. Suppose that with everything that had happened, there was only so much stress one could cover up, no matter how hard they tried.
Sue was too weak to try anymore, Solstice too weak to stop trying.
The two Forest Guardians slowly followed the technicolor lizard through the streets, the density of passersby shrinking as the sun set. For better or worse, their destination wasn’t too far. The Mayor was taken aback as she realized where Newmoon’s leader was heading, a cold emotion filling her mind at the realization.
Not fear.
Shame.
Sunset lit up Duck’s graven depiction. Shadows of nearby buildings gradually crept their way along the bases of the three walls of the monument surrounding the elevated altar. Despite everything, despite Sue’s internal mockery towards the deity in question, seeing Her be depicted like this, having Her likeness come to life with the brilliant orange light... it was stunning.
Ginger’s focus wasn’t on the central wall bearing Duck's likeness, though.
Precisely the opposite.
“Wait, where’d- no. No, you didn’t...”
The lizard’s words were the most shocked Sue had heard him speak yet, genuinely taken aback in the way she didn’t think he was capable of. It only made them sting more, for Solstice and, by proxy, Sue alike. Despite the shrine no longer depicting his deity, Ginger still took his time approaching, putting more care into that than into seemingly anything else, ever.
Sue didn’t know what he would do and mostly didn’t want to know. Even as utterly non-hostile as the lizard had been so far, her heartbeat still sped up, the once-human wanting to be anywhere but here.
Thankfully, Fate offered her a fleeting distraction.
*whiiiiistle!*
The familiar sound perked Sue’s spirit up more than she’d thought something so simple was capable of. A look away from the unfolding scene at the monument revealed Lilly to be pushing a cart of fruit off in the distance with one arm, the other waving over at her. Even if she couldn’t come over and comfort her directly, just having her around helped more than the planty dancer could’ve known, her sight alone bringing back some of the accompanying relief in Sue’s memories.
A small, shaky smile crept onto Sue’s face as she began waving back with her free hand, the farmhand returning the gesture even more intensely-
For a brief moment, at least.
Sue could only barely make the rough growl out from the din of the village, but its effect was clear to see. Lilly flinched as if struck, freeze giving way to hurriedly pushing the cart along. Root came into view next to where she’d been standing soon after, the purple spots around his neck aglow. The Forest Guardian had no idea what the hell was his problem, but was much too distraught and intimidated to act on that annoyance.
Especially after he turned towards her, red eyes glowing dimly in the distance as they stared straight at her.
Straight through her.
The once-human reeled back at that sight, hurriedly looking away, just in time to see what Ginger had been up to. He was inspecting one of the side walls of the monument, the one that Sue could by now figure out to be implying protection from the dark.
Protection from the night kin.
It wasn’t its front face that the lizard was focused on, though. One paw was reaching behind the stone slab, brushing along the monument’s back face. He need not have spoken for his expression to tell everything, the wide-eyed surprise giving way to a quiet confirmation.
Guess I was right. Night Father's monument didn't just disappear into thin air.
…
Why did I have to be right.
It was hard to even look toward Solstice anymore, the shame at everything she’d done and facilitated that led to this unsightly discovery burning a hole in her mind. A goring, gangrenous mental wound, off-putting to even be near.
Before it could grow any further, the last thing its owner wanted to see cut it off.
As Ginger inspected the side wall's back side, its shaky foundation started to give at the modicum of force being applied to it. The massive slab leaned forward, making both Forest Guardians gasp-
“Woah woah woah, easy there- ugh!”
The lizard didn’t look like he’d have even the fraction of the strength needed to just grasp the side of the stone slab and keep it from collapsing the manual way, but that’s precisely what he then did. Carefully, he straightened the side wall back up before working it further into the ground and hopefully preventing this from happening again in the future.
“There ya go, there ya go. Sorry for all that, my bad.”
Even if the slight wavering in Ginger’s voice would have only corresponded to being slightly unnerved for anyone else, by the lizard’s standards it was outright freaking out. Sue couldn’t blame him one bit. It was only afterwards, once her heart slowed down, that she even realized how fast it and the Mayor’s hearts were racing to begin with.
Crisis averted, thank Duck.
The sheer tension made it hard to even exhale a sigh of relief. It wasn’t the only obstacle to trying to relax though, with the second, arguably even larger one, announcing his presence with a loud, harsh growl.
Root’s entire collar was ablaze now, the eerie purple flames seemingly not hurting the fiery badger at all. Even if the inferno was harmless, that absolutely couldn’t be said for his expression. He bared his teeth as fury and shock mixed on his snout, eyes going wide only to narrow right on the intruder night kin, the words that followed harsh and left untranslated.
Probably for the best-
A motion in the corner of her eye made Sue glance over and freeze, her breath stuck in her throat.
As Ginger stared at the shouting priest, the slab he'd just secured began to lean away from him, too slowly for anyone to notice. There was nothing the once-human could do but stare, stare as the side wall collapsed despite Ginger's best efforts to stabilize it.
Stare at the heresy's destruction.
*BANG!*
The deafening sound rocked the entire clearing and rooted everyone present, their hearts all skipping a beat as they faced the direction where it came from.
And saw the errant slab shattered on the grassy dirt, having fallen on its own, away from the altar.
Both Root and Solstice were too shocked to as much as peep, but that didn’t extend to Ginger. The lizard immediately stepped forward to assess the damage-
“Oh... fuck. Three, four... five larger pieces, several small ones. Shit. Mortar would prolly work, but would need to be careful. I need to get to Kantaro. She’ll know what to do, she made it-“
“H-he.”
Sue’s unexpected interjection derailed Ginger’s train of thought for a moment as he blinked a couple of times.
“He. Right. Need to fetch him then, he’ll know- KANTARO!”
Ginger’s sudden shout combined with a wide-eyed look at the gathering crowd left most everyone staring at the blue beetle that was pushing his way to the front. He stared slack-jawed at the scene, yellow eyes jumping back and forth between Ginger and the wrecked side wall of the monument, the former catching up with him quickly.
“Kantaro, need help with... that. Figure you either built it or helped, have any ideas on how to piece it together? Counted five larger pieces and a bunch of tiny ones. Think mortar will be enough?”
“Ginger...”
The beetle could only force out a single word as he stepped forward a few steps, using whatever remaining sunlight to get a better view of the freshly destroyed side wall.
It wasn’t even needed, in truth. He’s had an exact plan for what to do in this situation since the very moment he’d applied the final strike of the chisel on these two cursed slabs.
“No. That heresy wasn’t worth the stone it was carved on. Good riddance.”
Kantaro’s voice was grumbly and low, much lower than Ginger remembered it being. It only suited him if anything, though his exact words drew the attention of more than just the lizard.
The fiery badger was only now recovering from the sheer shock of watching his sacred shrine be defiled like that, stunned silence giving way to fury. In an instant, the collar of fire around his neck went from nonexistent to overwhelming, each individual flame almost the size of his head. The burning heat drove most onlookers away, Sue, Solstice, and Ginger included.
But not Kantaro.
The beetle stared his boss in the eyes even as he drew closer to overheating, body beginning to shake. Only upon seeing that did Root’s fiery collar wane, shrinking even if the ferocious, downright feral grimace remained. Ginger immediately ran up to his friend to check on him afterwards, the beetle’s reassuring grunt that accompanied him patting the lizard on the back a couple times too quiet to make out.
“Begone.”
Root’s command was brief and striking; Sue left wanting to run for the hills even with it having not been aimed at her. Ginger fared better, thankfully. He glared at the priest as he straightened himself out, their eyes locking in tension once more.
“Don’t have to tell me again.”
Ginger spat at the ground in front of Root, the ordinarily insulting gesture made even more potent by the hissing and smoke that sprouted from the struck spot, as if the lizard had spat acid. And then, without any further ado, Ginger turned towards the Newmoon pathway,
And left.
And with him, any remaining sunlight, the darkness shrouding the scene quickly thickening with the light poles still unlit.
The gentle touch on Sue’s arm forcibly snapped her out of her dissociation with a light jump. Solstice’s dimly glowing eyes were the only clear sight around as the rest of Moonview left the scene.
“^Head over to my tent, Sue.^”
Solstice’s intent was obvious with the clinic’s bed occupied. The once-human acknowledged the request with a shaky nod and turned toward where she remembered the Mayor’s tent being. For a moment, she waited for the other Forest Guardian to get going beside her. She was about to look over at Solstice before hearing Root’s harsh growls from much close up, the sound urging her on.
Once last glance over her shoulder confirmed Sue’s fears, the sight of Solstice wincing with Root’s every snarled word stabbing the younger Forest Guardian’s heart. A part of her wanted to help, wanted to intervene, to do something, anything-
But there was nothing she could do.
And so, her conscious control came out on top, for once.
Before Sue knew it, she was completely alone in the dark. She could barely make out anything around her with the sunlight gone and the Moon being little more than the narrowest of slivers. A part of her wanted to stop, but the rest hated that idea wholeheartedly, wanting to keep going forever. Until she was as far away from all that, from the altar, from Root, as possible.
The more her mind dwelt on all that, on everything she’d seen, the more it felt like the Night Mother was the evil one of the two. Or, at the very least, attracted evil.
Sue wanted to chuckle grimly at the realization, to laugh at the banal, cruel twist of irony in the healing deity being the manifestation of all evil in this world, at the Moon being the fucking Satan-
But she couldn’t.
Because Solstice was there, too.
The internal conflict brought no relief and no release, the tension only growing whenever she tried to think through it all. There was no laughter to be had, no absurdity of the cosmos to be mocked or cherished, no barrel to live in and lecture at a passing emperor from.
It all fucking hurts.
The sudden change of lighting nearby snapped Sue back to awareness. Crackle’s obscured body flew from lamp post to lamp post, leaving purplish balls of flame behind. Even had he noticed her, Sue wasn’t in the mood to talk much, not even acknowledging his presence.
Solstice’s tent was just up ahead now.
Its inside was much smaller than Sue remembered it being. The artificial light didn’t do nearly as good of a job of penetrating through the thin walls as natural sunlight, leaving the small space almost completely pitch black. Sue needed to stand in place for a minute or two as her eyes got used to the absence of light. Even then, she only barely made out something to sit on nearby.
Soft, with no back support, very elongated.
The only question was whether this used to be Aurora’s bed, or Jasper’s.
The thought provided yet another gut punch to Sue’s psyche. Her body curled up as she sat still in complete darkness, only putting in the very minimum of effort and placing the crutch down on the floor beside her. Once she was done with that, the quiet truly began to set in. A distant, muffled step here, a stray gust of wind there, her own breaths. None of them could even remotely dent the all-encompassing silence of her surroundings, the silence that saps all the other senses too, that leaves one only with their own innermost thoughts.
...
...
...
I fucked up.
The realization was as simple as it was piercing, a subconscious wince leaving the Forest Guardian, as if she’d stabbed herself with a knife.
I should’ve done something. Something to stop Juniper, should’ve suspected it would happen, shouldn’t have tried to tag along with Sundance to begin with-
Each of these hurt more and more. Sue’s teeth gritted as she doubled over, every single thought felt like it was stabbing her insides.
It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.
...
...
...
It’s over, isn’t it?
For once, no pain, merely a release of tension. A blissful shroud of powerlessness, one interwoven with despair.
I’m stuck here.
...
...
...
I don’t deserve that-
Right as Sue’s thoughts were about to descend into another twisted pathway, the flap of the tent was shoved open. It brought a brief flood of light with itself, leaving Sue reeling and shielding her eyes.
“^Apologies, Sue. Do you want me to light a small fire here?^”
The once-human declined Solstice’s question with a shake, slowly prying her eyes open again. She could barely make out the older Forest Guardian carefully lowering sleeping Comet into the small cot immediately beside her bed before she took a seat, her whole mind feeling shellshocked.
Not that Sue was doing any better.
“^Do you want me to grab you anything, Sue? Food, water, light?^”
Once more, Sue shook her head, her body curling up further. She was hungry and thirsty, but the last thing she wanted in the moment was to put the onus on anyone to fix these issues for her, not after everything that had happened today.
Solstice wanted to say something, to cut Sue off there and then, to not let that kind of self loathing keep building.
And if she’d had any words that could help, she might’ve used them.
“^In that case... good night, Sue. May She keep your rest peaceful.^”
Both of them knew there would be no rest to be had tonight.
Sue nodded on autopilot before lying down on what was little more than a bare, thin mattress, profoundly uncomfortable without a pillow. And yet, exactly what she deserved.
Even with Solstice and Comet so close to her, the tent felt no more alive than before, impenetrable silence returning to reclaim its rightful throne in Sue’s mind. There weren’t words that could adequately cover everything. So many things she wanted to say, to apologize for. Almost all of them were inane self loathing, and even her inane self loathing mind was well aware of that.
All but one.
One that she couldn’t discount.
One point where she could’ve intervened.
One chance to stop this day from becoming even more of a disaster.
“I’m sorry for letting Ginger in.”
Sue’s whisper was only barely audible even in the utter silence of the thick tent, the individual sounds little more than rustles of individual leaves in the spring breeze.
“^You did nothing wrong, Sue. Neither did Ginger.^”
The once-human expected that first non-reassurance, but the follow-up gave her a pause. Her stony, distraught expression was interrupted for the first time in ages as she lifted a single eyebrow, the Mayor’s response coming not long after.
“^It’s not the fault of either of you. If we hadn’t defiled the Night Father’s monument to carve out more glory towards the Pale Lady, this wouldn’t have happened. If we hadn’t banished the night kin on supposedly the Pale Lady’s behest, this wouldn’t have happened. If my clan’s teachings of Pale Lady hadn’t spread here, this wouldn’t have happened.^”
A long, uncomfortable silence lingered in the tent as Sue chewed on Solstice’s words, a sniffle coming over from the Mayor’s bed eventually interrupting it.
“^Why must She be a tool of hatred...^”
Sue couldn’t contribute even the slightest bit of food for thought at the older Forest Guardian’s rhetorical question, and they both knew that.
But what she could do, however, was listen.
“^Hatred, and fear, and night kin oppression. Again, a-and again. It’s not what She is, it was never what She was... and yet it turns out this way, again and again. I tried to intervene, to sway Moonview when I could, it felt like it was working, but-^”
A louder, drawn out sniffle, the faintest of whimpers following it.
“^I was too weak. No better than any of them, I... I made this happen. I made Her into a tool of hatred, again. She isn’t that, She has never been that... but there’s nothing I can do.^”
Choking silence, absence of motion. Only her mentor’s thrashing, painful aura let Sue know whether she was even awake anymore.
“^Maybe I am the fool. For thinking it all could ever be any different. For thinking She could ever be a symbol of love, of hope, of healing.^”
It felt like minutes passed by in utter stillness, and then hours, the sheer tension the only thing that was still keeping Sue awake, despite the rest of her body yearning for rest, however feeble. However strained.
And once the tension came undone, once Solstice spoke for the last time tonight, the rest came crashing along with her words, claiming Sue’s consciousness once more.
“^Maybe the Pale Lady I used to pray to every night is gone.^”
Her own breathing was deafening.
Sue’s dreamt up eyes fed her dreamt up mind sensory input, but she couldn’t see. Only blurs of color, haphazard and distorted, taking an eternity to sharpen into a coherent image.
Her hands.
Her legs.
The bench.
The gray sand.
The campfire, consuming the world around her in a blazing inferno.
Her mom’s guitar. Shattered. Bleeding. Disemboweled.
She looked up.
The Sun bled crimson and shone no light.
The overwhelming noise of her breaths continued on as Sue stared into the rueful Sun, watching the blood build up on its bottom end. A large red spot. Grew, then bulged out, and finally, released a single drop, falling across the skies.
And splashed on the silver Moon, right in between its two deities.
Before Sue knew it, she wasn’t breathing anymore; tattered mind forcibly put together as it stared through someone else’s eyes.
A single red speck was visible on the moondust that separated Night Father from Duck, the two facing away from each other. They were both maimed, scarred.
Wrong.
Night Father’s left arm was shattered. The inky blackness was mangled with multiple cuts taken out of it. It hung limply, connected to the rest of His body by a single, dark thread.
Duck looked so much worse.
Countless scars covered Her radiant body, the blue and gold down shining with faint moonlight. Her right and back wings had been stabbed repeatedly, vandalized; the parts that weren’t outright destroyed covered in thick webs of cracks. Only stubs remained of the left wing.
Open gashes ran along the crescent horns that flanked Her head, coming together to resemble a couple of symbols Sue’d seen in her dreams and around Moonview, their meaning unknown, yet derogatory. Her throat was slit. Blood the color of full Moon flowed down Her front, staining the pink of Her paws, dripping off of Her onto the moondust below.
A cosmic distance behind them both shone the Earth, white and blue, enveloped sevenfold by an Emerald Serpent for its protection. Above them all, the ever-living Sun. Its judging light barraged the unreal scene, casting harsh, pitch-black shadows.
Two of them on the lunar surface, near her point of view.
One sprouted from where she seemed to be located. A head with three points, each with a short strip of paper hanging off of it, giving way to a short body, and then twin flaps fluttering slowly in the absence of air.
The other was being cast by something that didn’t exist. By something she wasn’t allowed to perceive. A head with three points, the side ones curved and with something circular hanging from them. Short body, tapering outwards. Disjointed arms.
Duck spoke first, Her voice as regal as ever- and immediately cut off by Night Father.
"Is that all you have to say?"
Tremors went through the lunar surface beneath them at His words, the shadows of the twinned observers not flinching even slightly.
She spoke again, Her voice raised and pleading. And, again, discarded.
"I do not care for your apology. It is worthless to me."
A fissure streaked across the moondust behind them, breaking off into a web of cracks from horizon to horizon.
She kept trying, regal voice tearing up with emotion. Her fear met by His anger.
"You have done nothing to earn my forgiveness. I doubt you ever will."
The horizon shrunk around them as fissures gave way to a thundering earthquake, the entire dreamscape gradually coming undone.
At last, Duck caved and turned around, Her divine body shaking as She craned Her head in His direction, panic dripping from Her voice. Whatever She’d said, it was enough to make Him snap and turn around to face Her, midday blue and sunset pink eyes gazing into one another.
"What do I want you to do, you ask!?"
His voice might’ve been furious, but Sue heard the tiniest seeds of genuine plea in it, focusing all that was left of her mind on them as reality fell apart.
"Change. Can you do that, ████████ ?"
The final word was not meant to be known by mortal minds. The non-sound flooded Sue’s remaining awareness with the utmost grace and restoration of moonlight, Her grace, Her restoration. Her healing.
Instant by instant, the surrounding space faded into nothingness, the very forms of the deities shattering in front of Sue’s vision.
Just before they did, just before everything was gone, she saw the Pale Lady open her mouth and speak a single word-
And then, all faded into nonexistence, vanishing into squeaky, grating laughter.
