You can Go on Living; Humans are Dead Weight

Once again, in the loathsome Raincaster region. It still amazed Moonlight Guardian how fast the weather could go from cold to balmy hot. From snow crunching beneath your feet to sinking up to your ankles in mud. From dry to perpetually wet. How she hated the Raincaster region.

A growl rumbled up from deep in her throat. At this rate, she would never catch up with the children, but humans were slow. Her traveling companion made this all the more apparent. He had insisted on bringing a horse, a lumbering beast, which limited the travel routes available. She might have cursed him for it, but he would have been even slower without this creature, especially since he insisted on bringing an overwhelming number of items along on the journey.

So many, in fact, she had half-mistaken him for another merchant. However, the assortment of junk he carted around would interest nobody. Pots, bottles, extra clothes, strange implements, a book, some kind of grease he put in his hair… He was especially fond of this medallion, which he kept pulling out and examining at length. It wasn't any single item, but the entire collection that was the problem. As for herself, she only carried one frivolous item: her lute. One was allowed a single sentimental item. More importantly, it didn’t slow her down.

Considering this, just why was she traveling with this human to begin with? She could travel faster than any horse, even in open country. Catching up with the abductors would have been easy… If she knew their location. This human knew, or at least better than she. Also, she had learned a painful lesson about interacting with humans, and a human guide would be invaluable if she needed to sludge through another human settlement.

So now, instead of rescuing the children, she was rescuing this guy. She ducked under the wild swing of a cudgel, her sword finding and cutting through a grelmhiem’s torso. That put three down and opened a path for Smiles to escape. The horse was slow, but faster than these savage brutes. The four remaining came at her, but she saw no reason to continue with them. She had already put down three of them, and they had proven a subpar bunch. So, she leaped after her human companion, leaving the water-sodden ground behind in favor of the trees. How she couldn’t wait to leave the Raincaster region behind.

Night fell and the human once again called a stop. As darkness crept through the forest, it only seemed appropriate to retire for the night, but considering the area, Moonlight Guardian would have appreciated more time spent on getting through this Deity-forsaken place. That being said, he had an impressive ability to find dry places to camp, which she didn’t think possible in this Tempest-cursed land. Tonight, he had found sanctuary under the gnarled roots of a great tree, not as great as the trees back home, mind you.

The ever-present patter of rain accompanied the sizzle of meat. It went without saying that even the fire couldn’t drive off the dampness. Still, the sweet aroma of meat was always appreciated. Even better, she hadn’t been the one to procure it. Despite this human’s many shortcomings, at least he could hunt.

Moonlight Guardian pulled her lute from her cloak. Even wrapped tightly, she feared the constant deluge might damage it, and so it had become her custom to pull it out every night and give it a thorough inspection. She shot a scouting glance at the human as he roasted the animal over a makeshift spit; he looked quite occupied. Running a claw across the strings, an off-key hum greeted her. This was expected. This forest’s horrible weather traumatized her beloved instrument, another unforgivable act. She began tuning it, adroitly correcting for any discrepancies, making adjustments to several strings at once.

She made several passes, though well-tuned on the first, always taking the greatest care. Despite herself, she found her fingers plucking a tune on each string while listening for disparities. Nothing in particular, just her wandering whim.

There was an abrupt muting of the strings when Moonlight Guardian felt his eyes on her. His dumb smile dropped away as the strings stilled to silence, eyes sinking back into the light of the fire. Well, that was enough for tonight. Her lute was in working condition, and she stashed it back into her cloak.

“Ah—,” the human uttered, followed by the usual series of unintelligible sounds. He lifted the carcass off the fire and sliced into part of its hindquarters with his broad knife. A sizable piece, having come from a slow tree-dwelling animal, and he offered it with an outstretched hand. She took it, grabbing it with an ethereal grip. This always got a flash of amusement from the human’s face, even though she did this often.

One might think Moonlight Guardian was too proud to accept a handout from a human, that it was beneath her dignity. She was indeed proud, something she had been working on of late. But she did not consider this a handout; it was reciprocation. When they had first set out, his eagerness to accompany had troubled her. Then they were attacked.

They emerged from the woods, surrounded them, and, without much fanfare, launched into an attack. She dropped into her stance, ready for the assault, but they dashed past. Not until she stepped in to defend the hapless human had they even noticed her.

Alright, so perhaps hapless was too strong a word. She judged he might best the assailants one-on-one. His sword strokes and footwork were more graceful than the attackers, not that it said much in her estimation. He would still have been feeding crows if not for her assistance.

After that, the human’s behavior hadn’t troubled her as much, not until the next time they were attacked… and then the next time. She had no idea humans were so aggressive, and to their own kind, no less. Once they entered the Raincaster region, grelmhiem savages replaced the human thugs, but by this time, she knew why he insisted on traveling with her: protection. And so she easily accepted the food he prepared as the least he could offer.

“Du-r-r-r-r-oooouuu-mmm.”

Oh no, not this again! The human made this long, drawn-out sound while gesturing to himself emphatically. Moonlight Guardian had found the behavior baffling originally, but now it just annoyed her. Anyone could see she didn’t understand, but the idiot had continued this performance for the last several days.

She had tried making sense of it. She could almost repeat the sound in her head—not by mouth, mind you. The sound had some kind of meaning; she had learned that from the Elder, and later Indigo. And, judging by the pointing, she inferred it somehow applied to him.

Most bothersome of all, each time he put on this performance, she felt obligated to try to understand, distracting her from other things she could occupy her mind with. But, honestly, being unable to comprehend was a greater source of frustration. All the same, she hoped he would give up.

After several moments of futility, he dropped his hands and exhaled a defeated sigh. Tonight's performance was done, but he would try again tomorrow. This human was nothing if not tenacious. But at least now she could continue eating in peace, cutting off small pieces from the leg with a much smaller version of the wraith blade, an ethereal sword conjured into existence by fox magic. It was small enough that Moonlight Guardian could conceal it with her wide white sleeve. His presence prevented her from openly conjuring it, to her irritation. Her technique was far from perfected and leaving it in that state served as another complaint she heaped at the feet of this pushy human.

Of course, nothing stopped her from practicing. It wasn’t like downtime was in short supply with this guy. But she hesitated to reveal it to anyone. Perhaps she didn’t like the idea of a human seeing, but realized, after some reflection, she didn’t want anyone to see. Was she ashamed? No. If she was familiar with human card games, she might have said keeping this weapon secret was like having an ace in the hole, best deployed on an unsuspecting opponent and only when needed.

Well, at least she could use it in some small way. After cutting off a piece, she would lift her mask just enough to float the morsel into her mouth. She wasn’t always this covert in her eating. Only since beginning to travel with this uncouth creature after he attempted to catch a glimpse under the mask had she gone through the trouble. It wasn’t exactly taboo to show or see a face in yutsuukitsuu culture, but… Well, it just felt like a personal violation to see an unmasked face uninvited. One didn’t just ask to see someone’s face, and they certainly didn’t sneak a peek! Though his attempts could hardly be called sneaking, it was still unwelcome.

And so she had taken to eating in such a manner, allowing her sleeve to cover any potential viewing angles. She occasionally caught a wayward glance with perhaps a hint of concealed disappointment. Just another of the travails of dealing with humans. Still, if this fool could help her find the kites, she would put up with it, and far more.

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Muhn Boro dove behind the door frame as a dinner knife spun across the room and lodged itself in the adjacent wall with a dull twang. Well, that was a mistake. He had thought, since she hadn’t run and hid upon his entry, he could get away with a reassuring pat on the head. But he had overplayed his hand, and the girl had darted into hiding, leaving only a telekinetic whirlwind in her place, sending tonight’s dinner—along with the dining utensils and ceramic pitcher—whipping through the air, and marring the inn’s walls. At least this wasn’t anything he could mend himself... Well, not the pitcher, that shattered beyond repair.

He never thought it would be easy to take in this girl; he had only the most fundamental of understanding of the yutsuukitsuu—though few could boast of more—and after witnessing the massacre of her tribe at the hands of raiders, he imagined even his presence revived that traumatic experience. Still, he thought negotiating with Asal Alaba would have been the most challenging issue. But now, if things kept up, he couldn’t even claim it inflicted the most financial damage.

Fortunately, he was in the area when the raid took place. Though the raiders had slain many of the yutsuukitsuu, his old acquaintance’s avarice had proven a virtue and saved a handful of the youths. Still, their fates were uncertain. Knowing Asal, he would get the top price for the four pups he had rescued. Did that mean a relatively decent life? He couldn’t say, but he would do what he could.

And what he could do was pay for custody of this red and green yutsuukitsuu girl. Purchasing all four was out of the question, and even as much as it set him back to acquire the one, he was only able thanks to a steep discount. Asal had made a stink about her coloration being hard on the eyes, but Muhn suspected the real reason he had let her go at such a price was the source of his current plight. She had already caused substantial damage to the tavern room; the frown lines on the innkeeper’s face had only deepened at every instance of damage, quoting him a price each time. And even worse, he couldn’t return to his trade until she trusted him enough to take her on the road. Much like a shark, if a traveling merchant wasn’t moving, he was sinking.

He peeked back into the room. The impromptu tempest had settled. From what he could tell, the girl only used her fox magic—one of them had called it that—when scared or startled. It seemed she had found her favorite hiding spot, nestled between the bed and nightstand. He sighed. He would have to buy another meal from the innkeeper, but he would just leave it and keep his hands to himself. At least she was eating now.

He scratched at his prematurely graying hair. Though it might not seem like it, things were progressing; she didn’t run off at the mere sight of him this time. Jostling his purse, he grimaced at the tired jangle of the remaining coins. Things could progress faster, though.

As he went to procure dinner, again—hopefully the innkeeper wouldn't raise a fuss— a red head popped out and scanned the room. Muhn Boro retreated from the door but remained close enough to see the girl crawl out and begin gathering the things she had scattered, darting about, pigtails swaying—he wasn't sure where she had found the cord to tie them. She had some difficulty reaching the knife lodge in the wall, though. Even jumping, tiny arms flailing, it remained a handspan away. Then, to his surprise, the knife started to wriggle and jar until it dislodged from the wall. The young yutsuukitsuu lurched back as it fell to the ground, fear melting into a curious head tilt. It seemed she had some control. After she had placed the plate and utensils back on the small table in the middle of the room, she gathered the food sprawled across the room—beans, rice, and some dried fruit; he was on a budget. She got the bulk of it but started crying as she tried in futility to scrape the remains off the walls.

Well, maybe he could make one more push today. He lumbered into the room to announce his presence without startling her—it still did—and starting on the opposite wall, began cleaning with a rag and pale, leaving an extra rag in the bucket. Since the food hadn't set into the wood, it took little effort. It was everywhere, though… he had scrubbed half of the far wall when he heard a sloshing of water and the quick patter of feet retreating to the opposite wall. He ventured a glance back; the girl scrubbed away at the walls with far more success than prior, green tail swishing back and forth.

It wasn’t ideal, but they were making progress. She was extending her trust to him, at her own rate; he couldn’t force it. And after what she had been through, it would be unthinkable. The only question was, could his purse hold out?