“I think you’ll find you’re not in quite as much trouble as you might have thought,” Haiko said, amused. “But yes, August, I’ll explain your situation to them.”

“Thanks,” August burbled, mouth partially under the water. “I appreciate it.”

Haiko laughed at the words, and he returned his attention to the fish lazily making its way past his feet. Haiko seemed just as unhurried as she took her time bathing. August eyed the distant piles of leafy clothing and wondered how long he could put off doing the walk of shame before she grew suspicious—right when he was just about to go for it, she hummed under her breath.

“I’m not sure if you’ve realised this yet, August,” Haiko said, sending water rippling away as she turned fully to face him. “But the way you act towards each of us is far more considerate than anything I have experienced from Gaian society—even from those who held great sympathy for the Voithos.”

August, mouth still below the water line, blew out a breath, the air sending a ripple across the water as it surfaced. The comparison annoyed him as much as it usually did, but the angle of her comment wasn’t aimed towards his actions, so much as how she felt in response to the difference, so he said nothing in response, content to hear her out.

“There is a strange space gifted to us when you ask a question, a lack of expectation that we must answer immediately and to your liking,” Haiko said, water dripping from her hair as she attended to it. “You ask questions about our individual experience and actually seem to possess a curiosity towards our response, rather than a simple demand for an answer.”

The fact that even speaking to them like they were people was apparently noteworthy kind of pissed him off.

“You don’t dismiss us as some background facet of the environment that is better ignored than engaged with, you use our names when you interact with us, and you actually look at us when we talk—most of the time, at least,” Haiko said, an amused lilt to her voice. “This moment seems to have caused a very remarkable divergence from your usual behaviour.”

Rather than let her continue to get away with teasing him about it, he turned to face her and found that she was now standing upright in the water, a fair bit closer than the last time he’d checked—she was no longer making any attempt to maintain her modesty, if she ever had been to begin with.

“I’m just treating you like I would anybody else,” August said, tilting his head back to look up at her face. “There’s nothing special about it.”

God she was tall.

“Nothing special to you, perhaps, but as with all things, it’s a matter of perspective,” Haiko said smiling, “It is such an odd experience, although I can assure you that I too appreciate it.”

August didn’t really know what to say in response to what appeared to be her expressing something she’d been thinking about. It wasn’t really something he could take credit for because he hadn’t changed anything about his behaviour to accommodate them. Human societal norms just seemed to have a good compatibility with the Voithos—better, at least, than the tangled-up mess that Gaians seemed to have built up while creating a race of servants.

“You’re welcome, I guess,” August said before clearing his throat. “Haiko—I’m getting out now.”

August found his footing on the lakebed and then turned, rising up out of the water as he went.

“Thank you for the warning,” Haiko said, amused. “I was afraid I might end up missing my chance for revenge.”

“Uhuh,” August said, shaking his head at the parting comment. “Thanks Neptune; once Haiko is finished, you’re good to go back to what you were doing before.”

Neptune splashed some water up in recognition of the comment and sunk back down under the water. August made it out of the lake with most of his dignity intact, working on brushing as much water off his body as he could manage, but without some sort of towel, it was a bit of a waste of effort.

August resigned himself to being wet for the next hour and bent down to scoop up his leafy vest. He shouldered it and then went about retying the twine at the front. A minute later, he had his leafy pants back on as well, and he spent a moment trying to squeeze his hair out again, but it remained in a wet, clumped-together mess of threads.

A check of his Mana bar told him that he was back at full again and ready to continue his previous efforts of crafting the second axe. He angled himself towards where he’d left them, making a short detour past the huts before leaving a large pile of Sadapples outside for the group to eat. He took one for himself and savaged it with his teeth, sighing at the taste of it before coming to a stop beside the unfinished handle lying across the top of a stump.

He caught sight of Haiko finishing up a few minutes later; the drag of the water that had left him clumsy and with poor footing seemed to have no effect on her as she strode up onto the shore like she wasn’t pushing through the heavy water—too tall, and too strong to even notice it.

The second handle was finished in about half the time as the first one, the early attempts enough of a primer that he already felt way more comfortable scooping out wood with his glowing finger. That left him with the final axe head, but even with his growing skill, he still ran out of Mana before he’d managed it entirely.

He forced himself to eat a second Sadapple while he waited for it to regenerate and then spent a bit of time dropping some of the offcuts that looked like they’d make good firewood into his inventory. August chipped away at the axehead whenever he had the Mana to use it, and eventually, he’d gotten it into good shape. He socketed it into the handle until it was tight and snug and then gave it a few test chops for good measure.

“Two axes—check,” August said, smiling a bit. “I’m a machine.”