I hugged Meg. I hadn’t intended to, but she was just so nice and forgiving. Someone who was this genuinely nice, even when she knew what I was, what I had done, it was so rare, so incredibly rare that I hadn’t known I had missed people like Meg in my life until she was there.

So I hugged her, and then she hugged me back, and for a moment everything in my life was right. It was only the tiniest of moments, the smallest sliver of happiness, and then the little gremlin girl came rushing out of the other room.

“Are you crying?” she crowed. “You totally are! You’re an even bigger crybaby than Trip.”

I glowered at the little demon of a girl, safe in the knowledge that Meg who was hugging me couldn’t see me do so. The little thing startled back, wide-eyed.

“Ari!” Meg scolded her.

Right. Ari. That was her name. Ari was on the verge of crying. Had I done that by scowling? I quickly twisted my face into a quirky grimace and stuck my tongue out at her. “No I’m not, see, no tears,” I teased her.

It wasn’t a lie. I wasn’t crying, not really. I had the emotion, just not the tears. I had never really bothered to figure out how to get my body to produce tears.

“Ah… you’re mean!” the girl pouted.

“Ari!” Meg chided once more.

“No, no, it is my fault. I was being mean,” I apologized, squeezed Meg a little tighter, then let go and opened my arms towards the girl. “Sorry Ari. Hug?”

The girl pouted some more, eyed me warily for a second, then it was a three-way-hug. My first ever three-way-hug.

Aaaah, this is so nice. Is this what a family feels like?

I’m hugging people and not even thinking about how delicious they are.

Dammit!

Reluctantly I extricated myself from their warm embrace. As much as it pained me to do so, this really wasn’t safe.

Give yourself some more credit, Vale.

Maybe I should, but I wasn’t going to experiment with a little girl’s neck inches removed from my fangs. “I should be going,” I told Meg while trying to arrange my by now rumpled loaner clothes into some semblance of order. My eyes searched the room, hoping to say goodbye to the little gremlin as well, but she had already flitted away. “I would like to get my old outfit washed before it gets dark.”

“If you’re staying for a couple of nights, the offer to tailor you something that really fits still stands,” Meg proposed after seeing me struggle with my garments.

“Thanks, but I will manage,” I deflected the offer. Then I hesitated. She’d gifted me these clothes, and I hadn’t offered anything in return. I couldn’t let that stand. “No. Fine. Tailor away,” I relented. “But I am paying for the tailoring. And the clothes themselves.”

“Vale, no! You don’t need to pay for that.” Meg sighed.

“I do Meg,” I implored her. “You guys already paid me for the extermination. Me being allowed to stay a little longer is a tremendous risk for all of you. That alone is a debt I will never be able to repay. Please do not make me feel even worse about it by showering me with handouts.”

“Oh, fine,” Meg conceded, already glancing in the direction of the room where she kept her measuring stick. “You want me to measure you up now or later?”

“How about I go soak everything in the river and come back once I have hung it to dry?” I offered. “No one is going to run of with my clothes out here if I leave them hanging on a bush I suppose.”

I didn’t really think I’d get those old clothes of mine clean with a simple river wash. But a great wash, no, I wasn’t a washerwoman. I would never be fond of a great wash. I could probably wait several more months for one, bloodstains be damned.

Still not wanting to face the men at work near the pier I fled with my laundry into the forest. A little downriver, far enough from the town to be out of sight and out of earshot, I set to work. Leaving the washed clothes to dry on some bushes and branches I hunched down on the river bank, enjoying the gentle lapping water streaming through my fingers.

I surprised myself with it, the peace and quiet were apparently enough for me to be willing to sit here, in the sun. There was a slight northern breeze, and an occasional cloud drifting across the sky. The temperature as well, was less sweltering than the days prior. The sun still nearly seared the flesh of my bones, but I sat there anyway.

Aaaah… voluntarily relaxing in the sun. This town really is getting to me.

After a little while, I got self-conscious enough to retreat to the forest, seeking out a more comfortable place to rest in the shade. There, I laid my head down on a mossy rock and stared up at the canopy.

For a moment I let my thoughts wander, imagining myself free of worries and responsibilities. I wished I could stay here like this, just me and the forest. No people. I probably could do it, abandon civilization. There was nothing I needed that civilization provided. Nothing at all. Except maybe company. People to talk to.

People to talk to…

The thought tugged at me, pulling at an anxious bundle of worry I had pushed to a distant corner of my mind. Now that I had become aware it was there, it became impossible to ignore.

Talking.

Not talking.

Back at the bunkhouse, when Reya had introduced me to this Rafe, I had chosen to observe. In the moment it had seemed like a better idea not to talk. That Rafe person had been wary of me, bordering on hostile. It had felt safer to hold off on speaking until I had a better handle on the situation because of it. If I remained silent and observed, then there were no words of mine to twist, nothing I could mess up by saying the wrong thing.

I had intended to speak up eventually, to confront his distrust of me. In the end, I never had. The whole encounter had only evoked more questions, yet instead of asking them, I had barely done more than answer him. Now, the more I worked that encounter over in my mind, the more I wondered…

What if remaining silent had been worse than speaking up.

Yes, maybe that was the case, illogical though it sounded. It was a genuinely terrifying thought to have. With Reya looming over my shoulder, ready to berate me at the first hint of dishonesty, I had been hesitant. How would I ever get people to provide answers to the things that worried me without them realizing that these things worried me? What if the things they thought about me after I asked were worse than what they thought before? How could I even know in advance?

I had been so convinced I knew how to get people to do what I wanted. But that was before… before I needed to face an entire village that knew far too much about me. Before Reya, and her uncanny ability to unnerve me.

I sighed.

Not speaking up and asking questions might not even have been the only mistake I made. When I’d barged in on that private conversation, right before Reya had turned her angry glare towards me, it had been directed at Rafe. They had been in disagreement about something. About me. I had been stupid not to listen in. Somehow Reya noticed everything about me. I had been afraid that if I eavesdropped she’d notice as well, and so I’d simply ran back out. Stupid. Foolish. I could not afford to be ignorant.

Hah. At least I wasn’t the only one that Reya liked to get snappy at.

Was she… defending me?

I shook my head at the absurdity of that. Clearly, I was overthinking again, an obvious sign that it was time for me to stop loitering. I had promised Meg she could measure me, so I couldn’t keep lounging here until dark. Yet, going back would mean stripping again, exposing myself. Maybe that was why I was postponing it. Yes, it was only that. Absolutely no other disturbing thoughts were keeping me right now.

Still just as bad at lying to myself.

Reluctantly I got up and returned to Gery and Meg’s place, once again taking care not to encounter anyone on the way. There, Meg promptly got to work. Halfway through the measuring session, which involved far too much of Meg crouching to match my height, the little gremlin morsel popped back in.

“Mo~om, Dune doesn’t want to play!” the girl pleaded.

“Good, then you can take care of your little brother,” Meg declared without missing a beat. “He needs changing.”

Meg was right. The little nibble persistently clinging to her leg reeked.

“Do I have to?” the mushroom-gremlin nagged, scrunching up her face and looking around for a distraction that could get her out of the chore. To my despair, she latched on to my nakedness. “Oh, oh, oh! You got claws? That is sooooo neat!” She almost literally buried her face in my hands.

“Hey, Hey! Careful. Sharp!” I cautioned, hoisting my arms high up in the air, out of her reach. As long as she wouldn’t stand on the tip of her toes, that is.

Why is this slip of a girl almost as tall as I am?

“Are you hiding something else?” The gremlin darted around me, even squeezing in between me and Meg to get a close look from every possible angle. “Tail? Wings? Horns?”

Her shameless antics elicited another indignant “Ari!” from Meg, yet the gremlin could not be deterred. She continued ignoring her mom, at least until Meg picked her up and forcible deposited her next to her baby brother. “I’m so sorry Vale, she’s usually more well behaved,” the seamstress excused her unruly daughter’s behavior.

“’s fine, Meg,” I reassured her. “She is just curious, that is all.” I shook my head and spread my arms again, allowing Meg to finish her measuring. “At least it’s a better reaction than every single adult out there,” I added under my breath, too faint for anyone to hear.

“Sorry?” Meg asked me, having caught some of it anyway.

“Nothing. It’s nothing.” I shook my head once more.

I hid myself in my borrowed clothes as soon as Meg was done. While Meg went to put away her ell-wand the gremlin dashed out again. Placing the freshly changed nibble down in front of me she reached for my gloves. “Aaaw… you hid them. Can I see again?” She begged.

“No,” I stated plainly. I had promised myself I wouldn’t encourage people’s weird claw obsessions any longer, and as far as I was concerned, that also extended to little girls. On seeing her sad little frown I relented a tiny bit though. “I could show you my fangs?” I offered instead.

“Really?” she squealed, jumping up and down in excitement.

I smiled faintly, pulling back my bottom lip enough to let a single fang slip past it, and waited for her reaction. Maybe it wasn’t a good idea to encourage people on the fangs either, but she was cute, yes. Annoying, but cute. In the end, all I got from her was a disappointed little huff.

Really? What did she expect?

Any bigger and they wouldn’t fit in my mouth.

I stuck my nose up in the air and huffed right back at her.

“Do you mind watching them for a bit while I take care of dinner?” Meg asked me when she returned from the other room. “They appear to like you.”

I glanced down. Even the nibble was clinging to my leg now. I wanted to say no. I should have said no. I wasn’t a babysitter. I had no clue how to deal with kids. But leaving now would mean dealing with people, and I wasn’t so sure anymore that I was better with people than I was with kids.

With a huff and a shake of my head, I sat down on the ground next to the two kids. They ran off only a couple of seconds later. I tried to engage them in conversation. Somehow I ended up the princess that needed to save the dragon from the evil demon. I hoped. Who was supposed to be who seemed nearly as fluid to me as who was supposed to do what.

After what felt like an eternity I was saved by the nibble getting up from the ground, tottering over to the door, and babbling “Dada. Dada. Dada!”