Hey everyone! Welcome to the start of a new story and the introduction to the world of Tellus! This project has been a big passion of mine for a long time, and I am so excited to share it with you!

Special thanks to u/Alexwavediver and Spiderwebs and u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for the editing and proofreading. And thank you to Spiderwebs and Art Milena Calumby Belo (u/Acomplished_Tea_248) for the art!

If you like this story, please check out my Patreon and join the Discord! 

https://www.patreon.com/WinSomeGame?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

https://discord.gg/KjyMnbyB3

Hope you all enjoy!

-------

Art By Spi_di_der_Webs

Chapter 1-6 Alke Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Alke Elves

Average Height: 5'6" (Female), 5'11" (Male)

Average Weight: 150 lbs (Female), 200 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Tall, broad, and powerfully built with obsidian skin. Their intimidating stature is often enhanced through ceremonial paints, masks, and trophies.

Hair Colors: Black, white, and dark blue.

Culture Classification: Savage, Barbaric

The Alke Elves are the predominant elven people of Alkebulan and, in my estimation, the physically strongest of all elven subraces. Their broad shoulders, dense musculature, and remarkable endurance allow them to survive hardships that would swiftly claim the lives of most other peoples. Heat that would leave a Civic Elf collapsed within the hour is little more than an inconvenience to an Alke.

They possess an uncanny ability to endure famine as well, surviving for astonishing lengths of time upon roots, insects, and even the mineral-rich dust gathered from the dry earth. I cannot claim to understand how the latter sustains them, only that I witnessed it more than once.

Their kingdoms are governed by mighty warriors, revered elders, and sorcerer-priests whose authority is seldom questioned. Warfare permeates every aspect of Alke society. Leadership is earned through strength, wisdom, and spiritual power rather than inheritance alone, and kingdoms often rise and fall with the fortunes of extraordinary rulers.

The sorceries practiced by the Alke are among the oldest—and, if I may confess, among the most unsettling—I have encountered. They speak freely with spirits that many others would desperately avoid, bargain with powers buried beneath the earth, and perform rites whose meanings even they sometimes admit have been forgotten. One does not linger near an Alke ritual unless invited... and even then, caution is advisable.

Their homeland is unlike any other upon Tellus. Alkebulan is littered with cyclopean ruins, forgotten temples, and shattered cities whose builders have long vanished from memory. Hidden among these relics lie treasures beyond imagination, but also horrors that have survived the passing of countless ages. Monstrous beasts roam its wilderness in abundance, and there are places where even seasoned Alke hunters refuse to tread after sunset.

Most curious of all are the ancient guardians. Throughout Alkebulan stand shrines, vaults, and forgotten halls watched over by hereditary orders of Alke whose duty has remained unchanged for generations beyond counting.

They defend these places with unwavering devotion, yet are forbidden by sacred law from entering them themselves. When I inquired as to why, the answers varied from village to village, though every explanation ended with the same warning: "Some doors are closed for the sake of the world." I would have given a great deal to see what lay beyond them.

The Alke maintain that they are the first people of Tellus, and that every other race has merely wandered from the roots from which they sprang. Most scholars dismiss this as tribal mythology. Yet after walking among their ancient ruins, hearing songs whose verses no neighboring people could translate, and seeing monuments weathered almost beyond recognition... I find myself less certain than I once was.

Their customs can also be... spirited. During one harvest celebration, an Alke woman, apparently convinced that I intended to continue my travels, tore a lock of hair from my head before I could object. My guide calmly informed me that she intended to brew a charm that would persuade me to remain in her village indefinitely. Whether the concoction possessed genuine magical properties or merely reflected wishful thinking, I cannot say. My scalp, however, remained sore for several days thereafter.

Despite that memorable assault upon my dignity, I confess I departed Alkebulan reluctantly. No land upon Tellus whispers of forgotten ages more loudly than theirs. Every ruined wall, every weathered monument, and every forbidden doorway seems determined to remind the traveler that history is far older than the stories we choose to remember. Had circumstances allowed, I would gladly have remained among the Alke for many more years. I suspect they are guardians not merely of ancient ruins, but of truths the rest of Tellus has long since forgotten.

Chapter 1-7 Abyssinic Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Abyssinic Elves

Average Height: 6'0" (Female), 6'5" (Male)

Appearance: Exceptionally tall and lean with obsidian, ebony, brown, or dark bronze skin. They are known for their welcoming demeanor. Males commonly practice scarification.

Hair Colors: Black, brown, white, and red.

Culture Classification: Civilized

The Abyssinic Elves are among the oldest civilizations upon Tellus and, without question, the finest archers I have ever encountered. They believe the bow to be a sacred instrument entrusted to them by the heavens, not merely for hunting or war, but to defend the innocent and strike down wickedness wherever it is found. To an Abyssinic, a drawn bow is as much a declaration of faith as it is a weapon.

Their men commonly practice scarification, each scar commemorating a deed worthy of remembrance. Victories in tournaments, remarkable feats of marksmanship, or enemies felled in honorable combat are all deserving of such marks. The women are no less accomplished, though they more often commemorate their achievements with carefully placed piercings around the abdomen, each ornament quietly recording triumphs that need not be spoken aloud.

The Abyssinics claim their ancestors crossed the sea from Alkebulan before founding the Kingdom of Abyssinia through an alliance with the Kemet Elves. It is a curious tradition, for all learned men know that a child inherits the race of the father. Half-races simply do not exist... or at least, they should not. Whether their story conceals forgotten history, misunderstood migration, or something stranger still, I leave to future scholars.

Unlike nearly every other people of Tellus, the Abyssinics speak of hardship with gratitude rather than resentment. They believe suffering tempers the soul, that every trial is an opportunity to grow closer to righteousness.

Stranger still, they insist that every race upon Tellus is equal beneath the eyes of Mak-El, and that even one's enemy should be offered mercy before judgment. Such beliefs have earned them ridicule from many kingdoms and outright hatred from others. The followers of Mak-El are mocked as naïve dreamers, their god dismissed as weak because He neither demands conquest nor flatters the pride of kings. Having lived among them, I can attest that they are neither weak nor naïve.

Indeed, I have witnessed feats that continue to trouble my understanding of the world.

During a campaign against a cult devoted to one of the lesser gods, I saw an Abyssinic slave-soldier drive an ordinary bronze spear through the deity's breast. There were no enchanted runes, no sorcerous incantations, no divine relic. The god died screaming before the assembled armies.

On another occasion, an Abyssinic princess loosed a single arrow into the skull of a demon that had already survived volleys of enchanted missiles cast by accomplished sorcerers. Her shaft was plain ash tipped with bronze. The creature fell where it stood and never rose again.

I have searched for an explanation ever since.

Perhaps there is something within the blood of the Abyssinics themselves—a gift inherited from ancestors forgotten by history. Or perhaps the power lies not within them at all, but in the invisible God they worship so faithfully. I cannot say. I have found no satisfactory answer, and I have long since abandoned the arrogance of believing every mystery must yield to inquiry.

Whatever the truth, I know only this: if I were forced to stand against a demon, a sorcerer, or even one of the lesser gods themselves, I would pray that an Abyssinic stood beside me with a bow in hand.

Chapter 1-8 Inuatic Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Inuatic Elves

Average Height: 5'0" (Female), 5'4" (Male)

Average Weight: 140 lbs (Female), 160 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Copper-red skin with soft, rounded features and stocky builds. Their bodies are remarkably warm to the touch, possessing a fine layer of insulating fat beneath the skin and a thin lay of fur. Women bear pale markings resembling tattoos that faintly glow beneath moonlight.

Hair Colors: Black and brown.

Culture Classification: Barbaric

The Inuatic Elves inhabit the north and south western reaches of Vashkar, where frozen seas, endless snowfields, and bitter winds would quickly claim the unprepared. They have adapted so thoroughly to this unforgiving land that one begins to wonder whether they were shaped by the cold... or whether the cold itself has simply accepted them as its own.

They are among the gentlest people I have encountered. Quiet by nature, soft-spoken in conversation, and unfailingly courteous, the Inuatics possess a humility that seems almost foreign elsewhere upon Tellus. They seldom boast, seldom quarrel, and appear perfectly content with lives that many outsiders would consider harsh beyond endurance.

It took me several weeks to realize the Inuatics were not expressionless. Their smiles simply arrive more slowly than most. Spend a month among them and you will discover they laugh with their entire body. Introduce them to something genuinely new, however, and all that quiet reserve vanishes at once. I have never seen grown adults become so thoroughly captivated by a simple mechanical toy.

Their villages are built around the migrations of colossal caribou herds, giant elk, moose, and the great whales that roam the northern coasts. Rather than competing for every resource, neighboring communities frequently gather to trade, celebrate marriages, and share food during lean seasons. It is a simple arrangement, though one that has served them well for countless generations.

Physically, the Inuatics differ noticeably from other elves. Their bodies are softer, their faces rounder, and beneath their skin lies a generous layer of insulating fat accompanied by a coat of exceedingly fine fur. Most remarkable of all is their warmth. One scarcely believes it possible until shaking an Inuatic's hand, only to discover it feels as though they have been sitting beside a roaring hearth all day.

The women possess another curious trait. Flowing pale markings adorn their skin from birth, resembling intricate tattoos despite no pigment ever touching them. On clear nights, particularly beneath the full moon, these markings emit the faintest silvery glow. The Inuatics regard them as blessings from the Moon Mother, while their shamans insist they reveal something of a woman's spirit. I cannot speak to either claim, though I admit the sight is rather beautiful.

Though outsiders often mistake their calm disposition for weakness, such assumptions have proven costly. Inuatics rarely seek war, but when forced into it they become patient hunters. They know every drift, every frozen river, and every hidden pass. Entire warbands have disappeared into blizzards, only to discover too late that the smiling hunter who offered them directions had been leading them toward an ambush all along.

I must also confess to one of the more embarrassing moments of my travels. After a feast celebrating a successful whale hunt, I accepted the chief's invitation to share the warmth of the communal furs. I had underestimated quite how warm an Inuatic truly is. Between the hearty meal, the crackling fire, and what felt like sleeping against a living furnace, I drifted off almost immediately. Upon waking, I discovered I had rolled entirely atop the poor chief during the night and pinned him beneath my considerable weight. He endured the ordeal with admirable patience and, to my everlasting embarrassment, merely smiled and remarked that I "slept like a cub."

I have also grown rather fond of another Inuatic invention—the humble leather thong. I was initially skeptical that so little material could provide any comfort whatsoever, but after several weeks traversing the frozen wilderness, I was forced to concede its brilliance. It is warm where it ought to be, allows complete freedom of movement, dries quickly, and is astonishingly comfortable. Civilization may boast its silks, but I have quietly continued wearing Inuatic undergarments whenever the opportunity permits. I trust the reader will keep that admission in confidence.

Chapter 1-9 Njordic Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Njordic Elves

Average Height: 5'5" (Female), 5'10" (Male)

Appearance: Pale skin with sturdy, muscular builds. They carry themselves with purpose and possess an energetic, determined spirit.

Hair Colors: Red, brown, yellow, white, and grey.

Culture Classification: Barbaric

The Njordic Elves inhabit the rugged northern coasts where towering cliffs, icy seas, and dense forests shape nearly every aspect of life. They are an agrarian people during the warmer seasons, tending fields, raising livestock, and repairing the ships upon which their livelihoods depend.

When winter descends and the harvest is gathered, many turn their attention to the sea. Trade, exploration, mercenary work, and piracy become equally respectable occupations, depending largely upon which harbor one happens to ask.

Like the Barloric, the Njordics measure a person's worth less by birth than by the deeds they leave behind. Every warrior dreams of becoming the subject of songs long after death. Great voyages, impossible victories, glorious last stands, and even spectacular failures are cherished, provided they make for a tale worth retelling around the hearth.

Their reputation as scouts is well deserved. Few peoples navigate wilderness with equal confidence, whether through dense forests, frozen coastlines, or open seas. As shock troops they are ferocious, preferring swift assaults that shatter an enemy's resolve before a prolonged battle becomes necessary.

It is therefore little surprise that Njordics are among the most sought-after mercenaries in Tellus. Indeed, should one encounter an elven adventurer wandering distant lands, odds favor that they hail from the north.

They are, however, equally infamous as raiders. Coastal villages throughout the world tell stories of dragon-prowed ships appearing from the morning mist, their crews descending with frightening speed before vanishing over the horizon just as quickly. Countless peoples have been carried away in chains by Njordic captains. Yet to know only this side of them is to misunderstand them entirely. Once a Njordic calls another friend, there are few companions more steadfast. They possess a loyalty that borders upon stubbornness, and many would sooner perish beside a comrade than abandon them.

I speak with some authority on the matter.

Early in my travels, I was captured during one such raid and sold as a slave. Fortune, or perhaps simple curiosity, intervened when a local chief learned that I could read, write, and maintain detailed records. Rather than laboring in the fields, I found myself purchased as an advisor and keeper of accounts. Thus began one of the more unusual chapters of my life.

For nearly five years I served within his hall. To my great relief, I was permitted to retain all of my journals, and no one so much as disturbed a single page. On the contrary, the chief frequently encouraged my writing, insisting that someone ought to record his exploits accurately rather than relying upon the increasingly embellished versions sung by his skalds.

When my service ended, he granted me my freedom without condition. More astonishing still, he offered me the hand of his younger sister in marriage, declaring that I had become "almost respectable." It was an honor I declined with sincere gratitude. My life's work demands constant wandering, and I have never believed it fair to ask a wife to endure such endless absences. Besides, I have found that I outstay most people's expectations as it is.

The chief laughed heartily at my refusal, clasped my shoulder, and declared that I would always have a place beside his fire should I return. I regret that I never did.

For all their raiding, roaring, and reckless love of battle, I have seldom encountered a people who so readily welcomed a stranger once he had earned their trust. It is a lesson I have tried not to forget.

Chapter 1-10

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Injah Elves

Average Height: 5'0" (Female), 5'4" (Male)

Average Weight: 110 lbs (Female), 120 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Dark to light brown skin with lean physiques. They move with remarkable purpose, often appearing hurried even when they are not.

Hair Colors: Black and brown.

Culture Classification: Civilized

The Injah Elves are not a single people so much as a magnificent tapestry woven from hundreds of kingdoms, tribes, dynasties, temples, and merchant republics. Throughout history they have been united beneath emperors, kings, shamans, conquerors, and self-proclaimed divine rulers, each insisting that destiny itself had entrusted them with dominion. None remained forever. The people, however, endured.

To the foreign observer, the lands of Injah appear to exist in a perpetual state of magnificent confusion. Markets overflow with merchants from lands separated by thousands of miles, holy men debate philosophy beside drunken musicians, nobles negotiate marriages while acrobats tumble overhead, and somewhere nearby an army is almost certainly marching toward someone else's border. Yet the Injah regard this not as disorder, but as life unfolding exactly as it ought.

Art, dance, mysticism, commerce, and prestige are the cornerstones of their civilization. They delight in ornamentation, eloquent speech, and public displays of learning. Even the humblest laborer often possesses an opinion concerning the nature of suffering, the soul, and one's proper place within the world—and is usually quite eager to explain it. Most astonishing, however, is their relationship with the divine.

The Injah possess so many gods that I long ago abandoned any hope of cataloging them all. They seem perfectly willing to elevate nearly anything possessing sufficient mystery, usefulness, or personality into divinity. Rivers have gods. Bridges have gods. Market stalls have gods. Families have gods. I once spent an afternoon listening to two elderly scholars argue passionately over whether a particular mango tree deserved formal worship. Neither found the discussion unusual.

Some of these deities are... unsettling.

One village introduced me to a household god who, I was assured with complete sincerity, consumed the livers of deceased slaves and, in exchange, guaranteed that every dish within the home would remain perpetually clean. I decided it best not to ask how such an arrangement had first been negotiated.

Others, I confess, possess an undeniable charm.

One particularly beloved spirit is said to resemble a little girl with tangled hair and perpetually sticky hands. Children leave sweets upon small household shrines, for she is said to scratch one's head while they sleep, chase away nightmares, and catch rabbits for families that have been especially kind to strangers. I never encountered her myself, though I admit I looked perhaps more often than was strictly dignified. One can always hope.

Whether these countless gods truly exist or are merely stories given life through generations of belief is a question I shall leave to priests far wiser than myself. I have found that certainty is a luxury seldom afforded to historians.

If there is one lesson the Injah have taught me above all others, it is that civilization need not resemble one's own to be profound. Beneath what first appears to be chaos lies an intricate order understood perfectly by those who call it home. I cannot pretend to understand every custom I witnessed there. Indeed, I suspect no Injah understands them all either. Curiously, this does not seem to trouble them in the slightest.

Chapter 1-11 Yayoi Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Yayoi Elves

Average Height: 4'10" (Female), 5'3" (Male)

Average Weight: 90 lbs (Female), 110 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Yellow to pale skin with refined, angular features. Lean, athletic builds renowned for extraordinary agility.

Hair Colors: Black, brown, and occasionally dark blue.

Culture Classification: Civilized / Barbaric

The Yayoi Elves dwell upon an archipelago east of the known continents, where towering mountains, dense forests, and restless seas have fostered one of the most distinctive civilizations upon Tellus. Though divided among numerous islands and competing lords, they share an astonishingly unified culture. Their architecture, dress, philosophy, cuisine, faith, and methods of war remain remarkably consistent throughout the islands.

Curiously, their language does not.

Travel but a few days by boat and one may discover that the local dialect has changed enough to leave even neighboring fishermen arguing over pronunciation. The Yayoi themselves appear entirely untroubled by this arrangement.

Their society occupies a curious place between civilization and barbarism. Great cities flourish beneath sophisticated governments, yet political authority is often maintained by powerful warlords whose ambitions ensure warfare remains almost constant. To an outsider this contradiction seems impossible. To the Yayoi, there is no contradiction at all.

Honor is not merely admired—it is expected. Tradition governs every aspect of life, from how one greets a guest to how one dies. They possess an extraordinary stillness of character. I have watched a Yayoi noble receive news that his estate had burned to the ground without so much as spilling his tea.

The waves of history may batter their shores endlessly, yet the Yayoi remain steadfast. I suspect that if Tellus itself shifted beneath their feet, they would simply bow politely before continuing with the day's schedule.

During my own travels I resided among them for nearly two years under the hospitality of a most peculiar young woman.

Our first meeting remains one of my more embarrassing recollections.

She approached me beside a woodland shrine and asked, quite earnestly,

"If I had been mutilated, would I still be a woman worth loving?"

Believing I had stumbled into an earnest philosophical dilemma, I launched into what I now recognize was an unnecessarily lengthy discourse concerning beauty, virtue, the nature of affection, the responsibilities of marriage, and whether love ought to survive even the greatest physical tragedy. I suspect I spoke uninterrupted for the better part of an hour.

When I finally exhausted myself, she laughed so heartily that tears formed in her eyes.

Then she invited me home.

Only much later—indeed, after I had departed the islands entirely—did I realize my mistake.

When introducing herself she had repeatedly said, "Yōkai." I, displaying all the brilliance for which scholars are renowned, assumed this to be her name. It was only after speaking with a merchant abroad that I discovered she had likely been saying, "I am a yōkai"—a wandering spirit.

Whether she truly was one I cannot say.

In truth... I rather hope she was.

She was unfailingly kind, possessed an uncanny habit of appearing wherever I happened to wander, and knew stories no village elder claimed to have taught her. When I finally departed, she embraced me warmly and pressed a small pouch of tea leaves into my hands.

I still carry it. And I have brewed from that same pouch more times than I could possibly count.

By every sensible measure, it should have been empty years ago.

It never is.

Perhaps there exists a perfectly rational explanation. If so, I confess I have little desire to discover it.

The tea itself is magnificent.

I have sampled beverages from every corner of Tellus, from spiced Kemet infusions to fermented Njordic brews and fragrant Injah concoctions. None compare to Yayoi tea. It possesses a gentle sweetness unlike anything I have tasted before, calming both body and mind with remarkable consistency. Whether this is due to careful cultivation or to the impossible little pouch resting in my satchel...

I leave to the reader's imagination.

Should fate ever return me to those distant islands, I believe my first destination shall not be a lord's court nor a scholar's library.

It shall be that quiet woodland shrine.

For I still owe Lady... Yokai... an apology for answering a question she never asked.

Chapter 1-12 Tletcuauhtlan Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Tletcuauhtlan Elves

Average Height: 3'6" (Female), 4'0" (Male)

Appearance: Short, limber bodies with bright crimson skin. Slightly hunched posture and remarkably agile, giving them an almost goblin-like appearance.

Hair Colors: Fire red, charcoal black, grey, and white.

Culture Classification: Savage

Among all the elven peoples of Tellus, none are regarded with greater suspicion than the Tletcuauhtlan Elves. To many foreigners they scarcely qualify as civilized beings at all, often dismissed as little more than clever beasts. I believe this assessment to be profoundly mistaken... though I confess I understand why it is made.

The Tletcuauhtlan inhabit an immense forest where the earth itself burns. Rivers of magma flow beneath ancient roots, causing enormous trees to smolder from within while somehow remaining alive. The forest glows day and night with dull embers, filling the air with smoke, ash, and oppressive heat. It is, without exaggeration, one of the most uncomfortable places I have ever had the misfortune of studying.

Necessity has made them ingenious. Bereft of workable stone and metal, they long ago mastered the art of hardening wood with fire. Their spears, clubs, knives, and bows are fashioned almost entirely from carefully charred timber, producing weapons far deadlier than their humble appearance would suggest.

They possess little interest in clothing. Most wear only leaves, woven branches, or belts adorned with trophies, while many wear nothing at all. The infernal climate offers little incentive for modesty.

Their societies are organized into fiercely independent nomadic tribes that wander the burning wilderness with astonishing confidence. One moment a tribe may be quietly sharing roasted fruit and meat beside a family fire; the next they erupt into shrieking laughter before sprinting naked through the blazing forest with no apparent destination or purpose. Whether these episodes are ritual, recreation, or simple exuberance remains beyond my understanding.

I was considerably more successful studying the Tletcuauhtlan than I ever was the elusive Pictic Elves.But that success came at a cost.

The forest nearly cooked me alive on several occasions, my journals were stolen repeatedly by curious children who insisted upon examining every page upside down, and one particularly enthusiastic young male became so fascinated by my ears that he bit my left earlobe clean off before I could react. I have since learned this was apparently his way of determining whether I was "real." I remain uncertain whether he found the answer satisfactory.

Curiosity, in fact, appears almost pathological among them. They would gather around me in groups, poking my clothing, rifling through my satchel, sniffing my hair, and occasionally attempting to taste objects they had never before encountered. More than once I was forced to wave my cane in protest, lightly swatting particularly persistent youngsters upon the back—or, when necessary, the backside—to shoo them away long enough to continue writing. They found this endlessly amusing and would often return moments later with twice as many companions.

Their dietary customs are, unfortunately, among the most disturbing recorded in this volume. Cannibalism is neither desperate nor taboo but woven into their spiritual beliefs. They maintain that consuming portions of the dead prevents hostile spirits from lingering among the living, while devouring one's enemies destroys the soul entirely. Whether this belief possesses any truth, I cannot say, though I have never felt inclined to test it.

Above all else, the Tletcuauhtlan defend their burning homeland with an almost fanatical devotion. They rarely leave its borders willingly, and outsiders who venture too deeply seldom depart without permission. Many scholars have proposed that these curious little elves represent some forgotten bridge between elves and beasts. I find such speculation unconvincing. They are not beasts.

They are simply... Tletcuauhtlan.

There is, I suspect, a profound difference.

Chapter 1-13

And so this concludes the selection of the Elven races of Tellus. I do wish I could have added more of my personal experiences and exploits among these people, and perhaps expanded upon the many, many nations that further divided each one. But, parchment is expensive and it would only bore most if I detailed every grain of sand I encountered. No matter how much I loved each grain. Perhaps I will save it for another time. My journey continues and I will document each beautiful race in my travles. As for you, dear readers, if the ample opportunity arises, I encourage meeting each one of the strange peoples in your travels.

To Be Continued

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Return to chapter 1-1 Continue to Chapter 2

Thank you all for reading this! I am so happy to get this project started! I will be posting more. And if you want to read earlier and without broken up posts, feel free to join the discord and Patreon! See yall soon!

https://www.patreon.com/WinSomeGame?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

https://discord.gg/KjyMnbyB3

Hey everyone! Welcome to the start of a new story and the introduction to the world of Tellus! This project has been a big passion of mine for a long time, and I am so excited to share it with you!

This post will be brocken into two parts due to size.

Special thanks to u/Alexwavediver and Spiderwebs and u/Acceptable_Egg5560 for the editing and proofreading. And thank you to Spiderwebs and Art Milena Calumby Belo (u/Acomplished_Tea_248) for the art!

If you like this story, please check out my Patreon and join the Discord! 

https://www.patreon.com/WinSomeGame?utm_campaign=creatorshare_creator

https://discord.gg/KjyMnbyB3

Hope you all enjoy!

-------

The Peoples of Tellus, as presented by the journals of Istoros.

Art By Spi_di_der_Webs

Preview:

The peoples of Tellus are as varied in custom as they are in form. Though they often regard one another as wholly separate creations, closer study reveals that such distinctions are rarely so absolute. Geography, necessity, and the passage of countless generations have shaped each race and culture into what we know today.

This volume serves as a catalog of those peoples and their many subraces. Within these pages are recorded their average appearance, notable physical traits, and the societies they have built. While no summary can encompass every kingdom, tribe, or village, the descriptions presented here should be regarded as representative of the peoples from which they are drawn.

On Cultural Classification:

Throughout this work, cultures are grouped according to their general level of social organization rather than any measure of intelligence or worth. Such classifications are intended only as tools for study and comparison.

Civilized:

Civilized societies are characterized by permanent cities, centralized governments, and institutions that extend beyond the authority of individual warriors. Administration, law, diplomacy, and commerce maintain order, while warfare, though present, is not the principal means by which society sustains itself. The people generally recognize a single governing authority.

Barbaric:

Barbaric cultures are primarily agrarian, though political authority rests in the hands of accomplished warriors, chieftains, or clan leaders. Tribal loyalties remain strong, and conflict between neighboring clans is both common and, at times, expected. Raiding supplements agriculture and is often regarded as an accepted part of life.

Savage:

Savage cultures possess little, if any, organized agriculture. They subsist chiefly through hunting, gathering, and raiding, with settlements tending to be temporary or seasonal. Warfare is a constant feature of life, and long-term political organization seldom extends beyond small bands or tribes.

Animalistic:

Animalistic creatures possess little or no discernible culture. While many exhibit intelligence, problem-solving ability, or rudimentary social structures, they lack enduring traditions, organized societies, and a shared cultural identity. The term is most commonly applied to monsters rather than true peoples.

Chapter I — Elves

The elven race is, by every measure, the most numerous people upon Tellus. They inhabit nearly every corner of the world, from frozen tundra to scorching deserts, adapting with remarkable ease to climates that would challenge many of the other races. It is perhaps this adaptability, more than any singular strength, that has allowed them to flourish beside creatures far larger, stronger, and more fearsome than themselves.

Of all the peoples of Tellus, elves bear the closest resemblance to the now-mythical humans. Most dismiss such tales as little more than children's stories, yet there are those who dedicate their entire lives to seeking evidence that humanity truly walked this world. I cannot help but admire their determination.

An elf's most recognizable feature is undoubtedly the pair of long ears that rise from either side of the head, ending in gentle, rounded points. These ears are remarkably expressive, capable of turning, folding, and swiveling much like those of a horse. An experienced observer can often discern an elf's thoughts before a word is spoken. Because of this, diplomats are trained to suppress unnecessary movement. They often close their eyes during negotiations to conceal the shifting of their pupils, while keeping their ears in what they call a formal posture.

Complete control, however, is impossible. The ears invariably betray the smallest hint of excitement, irritation, or curiosity. Personally, I find these involuntary gestures rather endearing, though I have learned it is unwise to voice such an opinion to an elf.

Their eyes resemble those of a feline, the pupils narrowing to thin slits beneath bright light before widening in darkness. Their canines are equally distinctive, extending nearly a third of an inch beyond the neighboring teeth. Though seldom used in combat, an elf determined to bite can inflict a surprisingly tenacious wound.

Sexual dimorphism among elves is modest. Females are generally shorter than males, possessing finer facial features and lighter frames. Reproduction differs from many races in that elves breed throughout the year rather than during a fixed season. Pregnancy lasts approximately ten months, after which a mother commonly delivers two to four children. To accommodate nursing such large litters, elven females possess four breasts, a trait shared by every known subrace.

An elf is generally regarded as an adult between twenty and twenty-three years of age. Most live to see one hundred and twenty years, while exceptional individuals may survive to one hundred and fifty, though such longevity is uncommon.

Despite their shared ancestry, the elves are among the most diverse peoples on Tellus. Countless generations of isolation and adaptation have produced a remarkable variety of subraces, each shaped by the lands they call home. The principal groups recognized by most scholars are the Civic Elves, Barloric Elves, Pictic Elves, Inuatic Elves, Injah Elves, Yayoi Elves, Njordic Elves, Abyssinic Elves, Alke Elves, Kemet Elves, and the enigmatic Tletcuauhtlan Elves.

Chapter 1-2 Civic Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Civic Elves

Average Height: 5'5" (Female), 5'7" (Male)

Average Weight: 110 lbs (Female), 125 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Bronze skin, lean physiques, and a naturally poised bearing.

Hair Colors: White, grey, black, and brown.

Culture Classification: Civilized

The Civic Elves are perhaps the finest example of what most scholars would call a civilized people. Whether they truly deserve such praise is a matter they settled for themselves long ago. They regard their customs, laws, and traditions as the natural culmination of society, often measuring every other race against their own standards. It is a confidence that many mistake for arrogance, though I have found the distinction to be rather academic.

Their societies place tremendous importance upon ancestry. Family histories are preserved with meticulous care, and it is not uncommon for even humble households to recount lineages stretching back three centuries or more. Noble families, naturally, claim far older origins, though one should always approach such boasts with a measure of skepticism. Ancestor manifestation occupies a central role in both religion and daily life, with reverence for one's forebears influencing everything from inheritance to political legitimacy.

The Civic Elves are dispersed among several kingdoms across the continent of Erythos, though their shared heritage often outweighs national borders. Collectively, they represent the dominant military powers of the continent. Their kingdoms wage war with remarkable frequency, driven by territorial ambition, dynastic disputes, and the ever-present desire to expand what each believes to be the rightful bounds of civilization. Curiously, despite these endless conflicts, they remain remarkably adept at preserving their culture, ensuring that victory and defeat alike become merely another chapter in an already ancient family record.

I should also caution the reader against discussing such matters too freely within Civic courts. During one banquet, I remarked—what I believed to be quite innocently—that civilization was not the exclusive achievement of the Civic Elves, and that I had witnessed remarkable societies among nearly every race of Tellus. I even praised the Barloric for their practicality and the Kemet for their artistry.

The young noblewoman seated beside me took this as a profound insult.

I initially mistook her silence for polite disagreement. It was not.

Sometime after midnight I awoke to discover her eunuch bodyguard attempting to remove my head with admirable professionalism. The young lady, I later learned, had intended to display my skull in her family's Hall of Triumphs as a warning against "foreign absurdities." Fortunately, the fellow proved rather more loyal to good conversation than to murder. After a brief struggle—and an even longer discussion over wine—we agreed that decapitation was an excessive response to academic disagreement. He even apologized before leaving through the window.

I encountered the young noblewoman several years later. She had matured considerably, offered a sincere apology for the incident, and confessed that she had been rather embarrassed by the whole affair.

Youth possesses a remarkable certainty that the world is simple. Age has a habit of correcting the misunderstanding. I bear her no ill will. Had I preserved every foolish conviction of my own younger days, this volume would be considerably shorter... and far less accurate.

Chapter 1-3 Barloric Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Barloric Elves

Average Height: 5'1" (Female), 5'4" (Male)

Average Weight: 120 lbs (Female), 135 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Rugged, muscular physiques with a proud, confident gait. Wuld paint is commonly worn upon the skin.

Hair Colors: Yellow, red, brown, and black.

Culture Classification: Barbaric

The Barloric Elves derive their common name not from themselves, but from the old Thrakadonian Empire. During its great expansion, dwarven merchants supposedly remarked that the language of these elves sounded like little more than "bar bara bar." Whether this account is genuine or merely the sort of joke soldiers repeat until it becomes accepted history, I cannot say. The Barloric themselves appear entirely unconcerned by it.

They are a proud and fiercely independent people, organized into kingdoms, tribes, and clans where strength, wisdom, and reputation carry greater weight than inherited titles.

Though many civilized nations dismiss them as barbarians, such judgments often overlook the sophistication hidden beneath their rough exterior. Their villages are sustained through farming, herding, hunting, and craftsmanship, while raiding is regarded not as brigandage but as an honorable extension of warfare and a means of securing prosperity.

Barloric settlements are found throughout much of western and southern Erythos, and their influence reaches far beyond their own borders. Numerous hobgoblin nations and tribes have adopted Barloric customs, methods of war, and social traditions, a testament to the respect these elves command among their neighbors.

Perhaps their most curious distinction is their preference for soft iron swords over the bronze favored by most of Tellus. To a Civic Elf, such a blade is evidence of poverty. To a Barloric warrior, a sword that bends without breaking is simply a sword that can be straightened over the evening fire and wielded again the following morning. I confess there is a practicality to this reasoning that many civilized generals would do well to appreciate.

My own appreciation for these blades came through an unexpected act of kindness. A humble Barloric farmer, having noticed that I traveled alone far more often than was sensible, presented me with one of his family's old soft iron swords before I departed his village. I protested that such a gift was far too generous, but he simply replied that every traveler deserved "a bit of home to fight beside him." I accepted it with gratitude and have carried that same sword ever since.

Though hardly the finest weapon ever forged, it has served me faithfully. More than once its edge has persuaded the peculiar things that wander the wilderness after sunset to seek easier prey. Whether those creatures fear the iron itself or merely the determination of the hand that bears it, I cannot say. Either way, I remain deeply indebted to that thoughtful farmer.

Equally significant is their reverence for Wuld paint. Elaborate patterns are painted upon the skin before battle, hunts, festivals, and religious observances. Many never remove it at all, renewing the markings as they fade. Every line and symbol bears meaning—invoking ancestral protection, proclaiming clan allegiance, recording great deeds, or warding away malicious spirits. One would be hard pressed to find a Barloric without at least a trace of paint somewhere upon their body.

The Barloric are a resilient people. Their lands seldom provide the abundance enjoyed by their civilized cousins, yet they have endured through determination rather than comfort. They bend their swords, paint their skin, raise sturdy children, and meet hardship with a grin that is equal parts pride and defiance. I suspect that if Tellus itself could choose a people to embody stubborn perseverance, it would be difficult to find a better candidate.

Chapter 1-4 Pictic Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Pictic Elves

Average Height: 5'9" (Female), 6'1" (Male)

Average Weight: 130 lbs (Female), 160 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Tall, muscular, pale skin often marked with freckles, particularly among females. Their bodies are extensively tattooed.

Hair Colors: Red, yellow, and orange.

Culture Classification: Savage

Few peoples upon Tellus are spoken of with as much uncertainty as the Pictic Elves. Even among seasoned travelers, reliable accounts are remarkably scarce. Those who venture into Pictland seldom return, and those who do often disagree on what they witnessed. Such contradictions have only deepened the mystery surrounding these elusive folk.

The Pictics dwell within the mist-shrouded hills, forests, and bogs of Pictland, where dense fog blankets the land for much of the year. Visibility is often measured in mere paces, and it is little wonder that the Pictics have mastered the art of disappearing into their homeland. They know every marsh, every rocky rise, and every patch of treacherous ground. An invading army soon discovers that the land itself has joined the battle against them.

Their pale skin, brilliant hair, and striking features have inspired countless songs of their beauty. Those same songs, however, are usually followed by grim warnings. A beautiful Pictic seen across the fog is often the last thing a careless traveler beholds.

Unlike most elves, the Pictics have little concern for clothing. Warriors commonly enter battle with little more than jewelry, trophies, or simple coverings, their tattooed bodies displayed without shame. They wield enormous two-handed weapons with frightening ease, descending from the mist in complete silence before unleashing sudden and overwhelming violence. Survivors describe them as relentless, cunning, and unnervingly patient. More than one soldier has sworn he fought ghosts rather than flesh and blood.

Their tattoos are among the finest known on Tellus. At first glance they resemble the Wuld paint of the Barloric Elves, yet closer inspection reveals something far more intricate. Every line appears pre-ordained, every curve deliberate, transforming the body itself into a living work of art. Whether these markings record ancestry, victories, spiritual beliefs, or all three remains a matter of considerable debate.

Indeed, scholars have long argued over the relationship between the Pictics and the Barloric Elves. Some maintain the Pictics are descendants of the Barloric, isolated for generations within the foglands until they became a people apart. Others insist the opposite is true—that the Barloric are merely civilized descendants of the far older Pictics. I have encountered compelling arguments for both positions and, regrettably, insufficient evidence to declare either correct.

Should the opportunity to study the Pictics ever present itself, I would advise accepting it with enthusiasm... and ensuring a clear route of escape remains close at hand.

Chapter 1-5 Kemet Elves

Art by Melina Calumby Belo

Kemet Elves

Average Height: 5'3" (Female), 5'6" (Male)

Average Weight: 120 lbs (Female), 150 lbs (Male)

Appearance: Athletic, limber builds with copper-toned skin and naturally theatrical mannerisms.

Hair Colors: Black, brown, and dark blue.

Culture Classification: Civilized

The Kemet Elves are the predominant elven people of Vashkar and are found in great numbers along the northern coast of Alkebulan. Few races have influenced the arts and commerce of Tellus to the extent that they have. To understand the Kemet is to understand that, to them, life itself is a stage upon which every soul strives to become the leading actor.

Their beauty is renowned throughout the world. Whether this reputation stems from their graceful physiques or from their extravagant garments is a matter of endless debate. Kemet fashion is among the most elaborate found anywhere upon Tellus, employing brilliant dyes, fine linens, precious metals, perfumes, and cosmetics in combinations that would make a Civic noble feel woefully underdressed. Whatever the cause, I have seldom met a traveler who could honestly claim the Kemet are anything less than breathtaking.

Athleticism is celebrated with near-religious devotion. Victorious wrestlers, runners, charioteers, and bull fighters are adored with an enthusiasm that rivals the reverence many kingdoms reserve for their greatest generals.

Plays, poetry, music, and public debate are equally cherished, and a gifted actor may command as much admiration as a victorious warrior. Indeed, I have often suspected that a Kemet would rather lose a battle spectacularly than win one without an audience.

Their talents extend far beyond entertainment. Kemet Elves are among the finest merchants upon Tellus, possessing a remarkable talent for persuasion and negotiation. Their agility and discipline have also produced legendary assassins whose performances upon the stage are rivaled only by the precision with which they carry out less public professions.

Whether bargaining in a marketplace, competing in an arena, or stepping upon a stage, they possess an undeniable flair for commanding attention.

There is an old jest, repeated with surprising affection even by the Kemet themselves, that one of their kind would perish if deprived of a mirror or denied the opportunity to boast for more than a single day. While clearly exaggerated, I cannot deny that they possess an extraordinary confidence. Humility is rarely among their defining virtues.

I confess I grew rather fond of the Kemet during my travels. Their dramas are unlike anything else upon Tellus, their songs linger in the mind long after they have ended, and I once made the grave mistake of participating in one of their celebrated bull fights. I survived, though my dignity suffered wounds that required considerably longer to heal than my body. The audience, I am told, found my performance immensely entertaining.

As for their women... I should perhaps exercise the restraint expected of a scholar. Suffice it to say that if ever I were foolish enough to settle down, I suspect it would be with a Kemet wife who could sing better than I, argue better than I, and almost certainly remind me of those facts each morning. I find the prospect strangely comforting.

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Thank you all for reading! Check out the next part here!

Continue to chapter 1-6 Alke Elves

Hey everyone. I have some unfortunate news. I have to put my fics on Hiatus. Do to some medical issues and life events it has become really difficult to write and focus on my fics. And as a result I have been stuck on them for a while now. And the quality has gone down significantly in what i have written.

So, I decided to take a small break to recuperate my energy and to replan. It wouldn’t be fair to any of you and it doesn't sit right with me to push out chapters simply to get it done.

The new plan right now, I am going to focus on some goals, try to adjust the things going on in life, and attempt to write the fics without a deadline. During this time, i will accumulate chapters and try to release them all at once.

Another part of it is I think I need a break from wrotting NOP for a bit. It has been 2 years since the first chapter of The Hunter was posted.

Nature of Predators and the community around this great story has been amazing to me. I have never publicly written before and I have never engaged in fanfics. But that all changed and thanks to you all, it has inspired to go get out of my comfort zone and pursue actually writting.

I have been working on a project in the background of my fics for a bit. It is a fantasy story about a goblin named Rock that gains sapience.

These fics are NOT being abandoned. Just a break. I am extremely greatful for this amazing community amd the support you all have given me. I promise to finish these fics with the best quality amd effort I can provide.

Thank you all for igniting the passion to write. You are all truly great.

Welcome back, everyone! I was able to get this chapter out pretty quickly and am so excited to share it! Big moves for Seklall here! Also, I hope to have another chapter out by the end of the week! See you all then!

ALSO, I HAVE A SPOT ON THE DISCORD NOW, SO COME CHECK THAT OUT!

AND THANK YOU TO u/DovahCreed12 & u/Jutsa-Shiny-Haxorus & Shamrook (Discord) & u/VenlilWarangler & Zoé Selardi from Ao3 for proofreading and editing!

Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the creation of this fantastic universe and for sharing it with us, as well as the NoP community as a whole.

I also want to thank the many fans for creating such wonderful creatures to populate Lahendar!

And Here is Eva's Art Gallery! A collection of all the art of The Hunter!

Story Synopsis

Thank you for reading, and I hope you all continue to enjoy my silly little writings.

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Art By BudgetEmmu_5552

Transcript Subject: Seklall. Venlil. Magister of Lahendar.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 15, 2136.

I was nearly bouncing with joy in my seat, speeding down the road in my luxury hover car. The new suit that I am wearing fits so perfectly. The cream white and the neckpiece with the turquoise rock in the center were just the most perfect pelts for a colony magister such as I. And, to top it all off, I was going on a date observation with Nyssora. 

The topic of today was going to be about Cole and ways he can be used and deployed to assist in the protection and defense of Lahendar, specifically about the dog that he had requested. I had spent the last two paws, day and night, researching these beasts. The near-death of Cole and Kaptchan would have been devastating. So, I think I could convince Nyssora to sign off on the importation of the beast, especially if I give her a box of ahb jelly-covered strayu.

This meeting was a bit different than usual, however. She was adamant about inspecting an old trail by herself outside of the West Entrance, close to Cole’s home. The trail had seen less Exterminator activity due to Cole’s presence, and this resulted in even less hiking activity, which is such a shame, as the Ring-Roller population always loved to come out and play with the locals. 

After a few short moments, I arrived at the trailhead, and Nyssora was finishing her preparations. Her iridescent feathers shone like divine rays, reflecting the scarlet sun. Her form was like that of carved marble. And her golden eyes, yes, the window to the mirth that she had once shown to me when we were younger. I missed when she was like that. Always laughing. 

You could make her happy like that again.

Shaking my head, I drove the thought from my mind. It could never work. A Krakatol and a Venlil. HA! … ha…

You laugh like it is impossible.

The thought was tempting, but I had to stay in reality. Nyssora is… Nyssora deserves someone better, and… interspecies is basically declaring that you won’t continue your people’s lineage. That is already frowned upon in greater Venlil and Krakatol society. Given how often each of our kind dies to the Arxur.

Superficial. Look into your heart of hearts. What do YOU desire?

My heart of hearts…

“Good waking, Seklall.” 

Nyssora’s greeting caused me to jump in my seat, and I bumped my head on the roof. Nyssora was stifling a chuckle. “G-Good waking to you, Nyssora.” Opening my door, I was caught by the seat belt and pulled back into the seat. Unbuckling it, I properly departed from the vehicle. “H-here. I brought you food for later.” 

Her eyes shimmered as she realized what I had given her. Wait! No! That was my advanced political move! I did it too early! “Thank you, Seklall. This will be great to have as we make our way down the trail.”

“Yes. Right. Now, what exactly are we expecting on this trail?”

“Nothing too dangerous. I’m only bringing a pistol. This is one of the safer trails. At best, nothing and just a few lights and sonars need to be reset. At worst, a small group of grass pouncers or a lone Longtooth.” 

A shiver ran down my spine. The way she could speak so soundly and confidently, she truly was a hero of great strength. But what about me? What could I possibly do? Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe I should have waited to speak to her. I am no hero like those in Cole’s books.

A coward is always a coward.

“Seklall?” Nyssora asked, “Are you alright? You were zoning out there.” 

“I…” I blinked several times and cleared my throat. “Sorry. I was just thinking. Being a Magister is hard work, you know. Never truly off the clock.” 

There was a small shift in her demeanor, and her eyes went low before looking at me again. “Obviously. My work is also never off the clock.” 

I coughed into my balled-up paw. “Y-yes. Right.” I pressed my wool back with my paw. “Shall we start?”

“Yes. First, take this.” In her digit was a small pistol and holster. One that used bullets.

“A gun?” I asked, carefully taking it from her.

“Obviously. You know how to use this, do you not?” 

“O-of course I do. You showed me, remember?” I replied while putting on the holster.

“That was years ago on Venlil Prime, and I distinctly remember you smacking yourself in the head with the gun after firing it.” Her eyes narrowed at me.

“And I was barely out of puphood when you did. I assure you that I am much more capable of operating one now.” I spun the gun on my pointer digit and holstered it like the desperados in the human movies.

Nyssora clicked her beak in the way to indicate amusement. “I suppose you can after doing something as fancy as that.”

“Thank you.” I was actually just as surprised as she was. “Do I get ammo as well?” 

“Of course.” She then handed me three magazines. I loaded it into the gun and placed the other two in the holster belt. Their being magnetized was definitely convenient. With one more equipment check, we set off into the woods together. 

It wasn’t long before we happened upon the first sonic anchor. It was knocked over, and the light was shattered, like it was popped.  “How has work been lately?” I asked, already knowing that it had been hectic.

“It’s the same.” She grunted while straightening the device, “Well, it has been slightly more difficult lately. The Exterminators as a whole have been more resistant than usual. It started with the reforms, and now, I think it is because of Cole. I don’t think they appreciate a predator operating outside of the guild under loose supervision.” She then placed a new lightbulb on it and pressed the reset on the device, and a small, annoying thumping sound began to play, indicating it was sending out small waves.

“I can imagine why. But the galaxy is changing. We need to adapt and grow. Humanity is a new opportunity and potential way to turn the tide of the war.”

She made an annoyed click with her beak. “I would have protested you if I hadn’t had those experiences with Cole.” She then let out a long, exaggerated sigh. This one made me smile, though. It was what she did when she pretended not to be interested in what I had to say. “I think you might be right. And… I think Cole is one of the least… civilized humans. So perhaps the rest are much more well-behaved.” She ended her thought by kicking a small oval stone down the path.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked, now kicking the same stone.

“Nothing. Just- I think Cole could benefit by being more prey-like.” She kicked the stone again.

“If he were more prey-like, do you think he would be so useful to us?” Again, I kicked the stone.

“I’m not sure. Would it change how he operates?” The stone skipped across the red dirt.

“Exterminating the Longtooths at night? Grass Pouncer removal? The Exiclaw extermination and most recently going deep into the outskirts of Marshland to kill that Marsh Demon?” The now familiar clatter of the rock echoed through the woods.

“I… Perhaps not. I just wish he were more… enjoyable to be around. He oozes the traits of a predator. Certainly doesn’t help that his face is torn up like a Chief Hunter’s.” She gave a half-hearted kick to the stone.

“He is trying his best. Cole is a gentle human. And I believe in my heart of hearts that he wants not only to help but also for everyone to be safe. I have a feeling he will jump in harm’s way and let himself get hurt to prove it.” With a quick flick of my walking paw, the stone bounced off a root, hitting another tree, and skidding across the path.

“That was a good kick. We should invent a game like this.”

“We really should. But haven’t we already done that? Oh! Remember when I kicked a stone through Mrs. Belter’s window? She was so miffed.”

“Ha! I remember that! And she chased you with a spoon all through town.”

“Ha! That old crone could never catch me!” We both shared a much overdue laugh. 

Nyssora brushed her feathers down as we approached another sign. This one was simply a distance marker that indicated how much distance was left on the trail loop. It was bent slightly, probably due to some animal attempting to scratch itself with it. When Nyssora reached out to it, a small shock jumped from the metal to her wing, causing her to flinch back, but she quickly grabbed the sign and bent it back into place. 

“Are the signs always this bent?” I asked.

“Occasionally. The Guild is usually efficient at maintaining them.”

“Ah. Well, you are doing an amazing job at handling this yourself. Maybe a potential budget increase in the future?” I teased.

“Ha! Wouldn’t that be nice?” She shook her head. “No, no, what I need is to regain control of the guild. Everything can easily fall back in place if I gain my influence back.”

My ears twitched. “What influence do you even need to gain back? You are Nyssora, Hero of Lahendar. There isn’t a single prey on Lahendar who doesn’t know your name or your story of how you saved everyone.”

Her tail wagged at my statement before ceasing. “Thank you, but it is more complicated than that.”

“Nonsense,” I shouted, “You are the Head Exterminator of the entire planet. Your word is almost equal to mine. Any uneducated Exterminator can uh… pound sand if they have such a problem with the Great Nyssora! And, I can promise you that you will have the full backing of the Magistrate to help you.”

Her feathers flared, and a slight bloom of purple appeared around her beak. “Thank you, Seklall. Sometimes it feels like you and Bijou are my only allies.” And I feel like that is all I could ever be to you. I rested my paw on her shoulder. Her wing slightly met mine. “Alright, enough about my work.” She began, “Tell me what you wished to speak about.”

My left ear lowered, and I gave an awkward sigh. “Alright… But first, promise not to get mad at me.”

She stopped walking. “What is it?” Her tone was authoritative. I both loved and dreaded that tone.

Now, I just need to calmly express and articulate my argument. “Alright, so, I was doing some research on these human companions called dogs and well, they are predators but docile predators and they listen to humans and Cole requested one as to better help and defend the colony and I was very skeptical at first and well, I kind of started to like the idea after watching some videos and there was one that was dressed like a baby, and then it did a flip and so I was wanting to-”

“Seklall!” Nyssora was looking at me with an annoyed and disapproving look. 

“Y-yes?” I said oh so confidently.

“You seriously want to bring another predator here?!” I don’t think she is taking this as well as I hoped.

“Yes, well, no, I mean-”

“That Human is already such a problem! Exterminators and Colonists alike want him dead and gone! Your and my positions are questioned openly by staff! And you want to bring another one here?! For what?! So it can eat meat just… like…”

Now she seemed frozen. Eyes wide like they were about to pop right out of her head. Her chest rose and fell, and her wing was slowly reaching for her own pistol. What could have caused my Nyssora to… And standing a mere fifteen tails away from us was one of the most dangerous predators on Lahendar. Seven tails tall with bones jetting from its back, turquoise fur, a long, lithe tail, large, dull claws, and a face plate of bone that looked to be a fleshed skull, framed by a large, disgusting, predatory smile. The Lykastra… 

Now it was my heart that beat hard and unyielding. The monster was crouched low, tail lashing about, and all six limbs ready to drive its claws into our bodies. Its amber eyes were piercing, never blinking, and a deep growl escaped it, as if to encourage us to flee. Both my fur and Nyssora’s feathers stood on end as we felt a faint, electric current emanate from the abomination... 

The sound of the magnetic release of Nyssora’s holster pulled me out of my awe, and in response, the beast’s body began to shift and shake. Then, it took a step forward. “Run!” Nyssora shouted and fired a plasma shot into the predator. The shot left a black mark on its face plate and singed some fur, but the now enraged hunter let out a deafening roar. It began its charge, and I leaped out of the way, sliding down a small hill. Nyssora had managed to escape and made it to a high branch. “Just run!” And so I did. Paw over paw, my legs screamed with fire. Oh, how I was glad my legs were straighter than normal, sparing me from the awkward bumbling that my kind did.

A few more shots were fired behind me, and I took cover behind a large tree. Solgalix. What do I do?

Keep hiding like a Venlil. Let the Krakotl handle this.

A roar echoed again through the trees. I am a coward.

You are a Venlil.

I looked down at the pistol Nyssora had pawed me. 

It’s useless against that thing. Just. Run.

But, Nyssora is in danger and… Brahk! W-what would Cole do?! W-what would heroes do…

Don’t. You will die.

No. No, I will not. With renewed vigor, I leaped and ran back to the beast. Back to where Nyssora was. My feet felt as if they had left the ground and were flying, my heart beat with conviction, and my mind could only think of one thing. Protect her again. 

My breath steamed as I made it to where we had been ambushed, and the sight before me only enraged me. Nyssora was missing tail feathers and attempting to leap to another branch. The Lykastra had scaled the tree and leaped after her, claws extended and that horrid smile wide open to bite. My mind had no distractions, no doubts. The only thing that I knew was that this thing wished to take away Nyssora. And with calm breath, my arm rose, and I squeezed the trigger. 

Memory Transcript Subject: Nyssora. Krakatol, Head Exterminator of Lahendar.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 15, 2136.

S-Speh! That thing isn’t supposed to be here! It’s supposed to be in a completely different biome! Is the freezing season really this bad this cycle?! The Protector dammed thing had chased up the tree and ripped feathers right out of me. Inatala, why did high-gravity planets exist?! Firing again, I hit two of three shots into the front right shoulder of my assailant, but it tucked its limb under itself and still effortlessly chased with its remaining five legs. Once again, I ran out of the branch and had to leap, and it was on my spurs now. I could feel the static begin to leap from its fur. Just a few more steps, I holstered my pistol and leaped. 

As soon as my talons left the branch, an arch of electricity struck me, and I began to tumble through the air. My talon had brushed against the damn thing’s pelt. Now, I was forced to stare into this wretched monster’s maw as it closed in on me. Closer and closer, the long fangs were mere feathers from me. This was it. The end of Nyssora. The stupid woman who could never share her life. At least… at least I could protect Seklall one last time.

As my final thoughts raced through my mind, an eruption of pink liquid burst from the side of the Lykastra’s head, turning its whole body to miss me and crash into the purple snow below. I, too, crashed into the powder, but before I landed, I saw him. Seklall… He had come back, and… He looked like how I once saw him. 

“I am Seklall!” He shouted, “And you are the one who dies today!” He fired another shot and struck the beast again. Now the Lykastra had forgotten me and turned to face him. I couldn’t move as each shock still rushed through me. I couldn’t even speak. Oh, Seklall, you need to run! 

But yet he held his ground and fired once more, but the bullet missed as the beast ducked low. Seklall’s eyes went wide, and he began to flee. The monster followed after. Brahk! C-come on! I screeched to myself, forcing movement in my limbs. The adrenaline was certainly helping me move, and soon I was back on my talons and slowly making my way towards Seklall. Inatala, hear me and remove this numbness from me!

I heard a few more shots fired, and rumbling growls followed. Just keep moving. Just keep moving. He is alive and still moving. You still have purpose! Trudging towards the fight, I noticed a small, black-and-white creature dart past me in the underbrush. Probably some poor creature scared out of its mind. 

As more feeling built in my legs, I began to run. I ran like a maddened Wrecker, tearing through brush and branch. I had to find Seklall.

Memory Transcript Subject: Seklall. Venlil. Magister of Lahendar.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 15, 2136.

Another crack of the gun echoed across the forest. The beast was beginning to learn and was now stopping its charges, opting to hide behind trees and boulders. I kept running and shooting, but I could only hold this up for so long. I had already used one magazine and was now on the second. I don’t know how many times I hit the damned thing, but it just kept coming. 

A branch snapped behind me, and I wheeled, firing a shot in the direction my ears had pinpointed. The slug found purchase in a fallen log. When the hollow thunk rang out, the Lykastra emerged and charged again. I couldn’t run from this one. It was too close. Only a mere twenty-five tails away. It would be on me as soon as I turned my back to flee. So I did the only thing I could. I stood my ground, leveled the pistol, and squeezed the trigger, hoping to hit something vital.

*Click*

And just like that, it was over. Like an idiot that I was, I spent each round and was now standing like a Springhorn in the headlights. 

Run Prey!

A small jolt shot through my body, and I fell flat on my back. My stupid fantasy of ever being a hero like in those human stories was shattered. The world became slow, yet… bright. I just hope I reincarnate as someone greater…

And then, small paws ran over me. A loud, ear-shattering hiss rang out from the small creature, and a large frill expanded from the neck of the beast, rattling with all its might. The Lykasta slid over the snow in shock, mere hairs from me. Whatever this small thing was, it had come to my aid and caused this awful hunter to freeze. 

“Seklall!” Nyssora’s voice rang out and was followed by a powerful shot of plasma. It had connected with the predator’s right leg and forced him to fall, revealing its neck. A new opportunity was made manifest for me, and with the speed of lightning, I reloaded my last magazine and unloaded all ten rounds into the beast's jugular.

The monster then stumbled over itself, roaring and hissing, until it let out one final breath and fell. I was still lying on the ground, now sprawled out and exhausted. The small beast had begun to nuzzle my chest. Pressing its face into my suit jacket. It was then that I had noticed its forward-facing eyes, and a jolt of fear ran through my brain. But I was much to tired to react, as uncomfortable as this thing had made me. Around its neck was a collar, and… Behteck was written on the side, with Pouncer being written on a brass plate. Is this Behteck’s friend? Do I smell like him? Why is this thing here on Lahendar?

“Seklall!” Nyssora rushed to my side and lifted my head. A small amount of static zapped me with her touch. Or was it just this new light that I am seeing her in? She was yelling and screeching. I think she shook me a few times, but… I couldn’t hear her. She glowed like a star before me, and her feathers shimmered like the nebula of the solstice, and her words were like those of the most beautiful musings. 

“Nyssora?” She stopped yelling, and it was only then that I noticed the tears in her eyes. “Want to go on a date with me?” 

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Woooooo! Kooks like Seklall and Nyssora had such a wild ride! And they even got to meet Pouncer on their romantic walk. Hope their date goes well too. See you all next time!

And now we are back! Let's just jump right in!

ALSO, I HAVE A SPOT ON THE DISCORD NOW, SO COME CHECK THAT OUT!

AND THANK YOU TO u/DovahCreed12 & u/Jutsa-Shiny-Haxorus & Shamrook (Discord) & u/VenlilWarangler & Zoé Selardi from Ao3 for proofreading and editing!

Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the creation of this fantastic universe and for sharing it with us, as well as the NoP community as a whole.

I also want to thank the many fans for creating such wonderful creatures to populate Lahendar!

And Here is Eva's Art Gallery! A collection of all the art of The Hunter!

Story Synopsis

Thank you for reading, and I hope you all continue to enjoy my silly little writings.

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Art By BudgetEmmu_5552

Memory Transcript Subject: Evastra. Farsul, Conflicted Guardian.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 14, 2136

Water splashed onto my snout as Pini kept slapping the water in the tub. I was trying to scrub out all the mud and muck from her fur after she had the bright idea to dive into a mud pit, trying to play with whatever strange creature she saw. 

“Stop that, Pini. I am serious.”

She looked up to me with such amusement at what she had done. Her tail was wagging so hard that it created a little current in the tub. She then lifted her paw to splash again. “I mean it, you little terror.”  She then gave me a mean look and pouted. Her cheeks flaring with air. 

Satisfied, I began to drain the water to remove the mud and refill the tub again. Pini let out a squeal as her little toy space ships went down with the water, pretending that they were going down in some space battle. When the tub refilled, I took a cup, scooped up some water, and poured it over my little sister's head. 

“That's not fair!” She cried out, “You get to splash me, but I can splash you?!” Oh, Stars, I look forward to when you can use a normal shower.

“Don't shout, Pini. And I am washing your dirty fur.” She only pouted even more, and I couldn't help but think how this little brat was just so cute. “Don't pout, little sweet root. How about I take you to do something you want to do after the bath?”

Her eyes widened and sparkled with such joy. “Really?!”

“Yes, really.”

“Can we see Mr. Cole?! I want to tell him about the Mud Swimmer!”

I flinched at her question. “Well… maybe some other time. How about we do something else?”

“But why?” She whined. 

“Well, he is very busy right now. And we shouldn't bother him.”

She crossed her arms and sank lower into the water. “I really wanted to see him.”

I gave a bit of a stressed sigh and pulled the plug to drain the bath for the final time, lifted my sister out, and began to dry her off.

Once done, she ran off into the main room, and I could hear her fumbling about to get her toys. Lalu would then walk into the bathroom to help me clean.

“Hey, wet tail. Doing alright?”

I flicked my tail to tap her in annoyance. “You know I don't like to be called that.” I chuckled.

“Well, I like calling you that.” She teased back, “But are you doing okay?”

My ears drooped a bit. “I… I think so? I mean… Meat Lalu. Real, actual meat. What am I… How do I even reason with that?” Lalu shifted and sat beside me, pulling me into a warm hug. “I feel betrayed. He told many people he didn't use meat. That he used fake stuff…”

“Yeah…” That was the only response she gave. One that revealed she was also confused. 

“Oh, stars. I even lied to the Chief Exterminator about what exactly happened.” I squeezed harder onto her. “Was that even a smart thing to do?”

“Well,” Lalu began, “He is your friend. Maybe you wanted to protect him?”

I clicked my teeth at the answer. “But he did do something wrong. And… Oh, Elders, what if this comes back to bite me? W-what if they look at Pini next? Sh-she is already… odd.”

“I think only Cole would do the biting if anyone did. And he likes you. You are part of his pack.”

My eyes widened in shock. “What?!” 

Lulu's ears flattened before raising again. “You not only shared food but also went on trips with him. The commentary section of the information dump said this will make humans recognize you as a friend and pack member.” 

Letting go of our embrace, I couldn't help but laugh. “Yeah right… That's such a ridiculous notion, though.”

“Why is that?”

“How could food possibly sway the mind of a sapient race? Especially one as advanced as humans. They aren't Sivkits or Arxur.”

Lalu simply flicked her ears. “My dear, it is the small actions in life that shape our friendships and hearts.”

Her words wrapped around my mind and felt so comforting. But was that all they were? Just a simple comfort for me? “If he really did consider me a friend, why did he lie?”

She raised a paw to her chin in thought. “Well, perhaps he was worried about losing you?”

“Losing me?” I repeated with a bit of shock and amusement, “Why would a predator be so worried about losing me?”

“Well, maybe he does see you as a good friend.” I clicked my teeth in a mocking manner. “Think about it, dear; who else could he possibly call a friend on this planet?” That one struck me. Did he really have none? He has that Yotul but…

“And you did defend him.”

Looking away from her, I began to trace small circles on the floor, “I… That was because he protected me. We are even now.”

“Eva…”

My ears folded along my head, “I…”

Lalu placed a paw on my shoulder and helped me to my feet. “He got that Yotul to bring human clothes, right? Why don't we go and find him? Take your mind off Cole for a bit.”

“By going to the Yotul, he hangs out with?” I asked sarcastically.

“Don't think too much about it. Grab Pini and let's go.” She said like she was my mother.

I simply flicked my tail, picked Pini up, and followed Lalu out of the room.

[Advancing Memory Transcript 1 Solar Hour]

After driving around for what felt like forever, we finally found the Yotul and his ship illegally parked in some parking lot. A massive crowd of Prey was looking at a large selection of human pelts. I suppose the novelty of such garments was too interesting to pass up. 

“Think we could skip the crowd?” Lalu asked.

“Maybe? Would the Yotul even let us? I mean… my friendship with Cole is on break so…”

“Hush, dear. A friendship is still a friendship.” She replied by pushing into the excited crowd. Despite her old age, she was still able to easily clear a path.

“There is so many peoples!” My little sister shouted, “Will we really be able to get clothes?” 

“Of course, my dear.” She had been so excited since we left the apartment. Putting on Cole's bean-wee, as she called it, hoping that he would see her wearing it. I told her that he might not be here, but she still wanted to wear it.

Her little tail wagged back and forth so hard that she was going to slip right out of my arms. Then, we made it to the front of the crowd, and, aside from the Yotul haggling with people, there was a Venlil couple helping him. The man was wearing a hat that looked like it was made from ipsom, fringed along the edges, and he wore overalls. I was a little surprised. I remember the name from the images Cole showed me. He was also haggling with the many customers. 

The woman wore a creamy-yellow sundress with a floral pattern, with a hat similar to the man's but far cleaner and with a red bow wrapped around it. She wasn't haggling, but instead working with a needle and thread to adjust the pelts being purchased. She worked with such speed and efficiency.

Lalu, Pini, and I stood in amazement for a moment or two until the Yotul spotted us and his eyes rested on Pini's or Cole's? Bean-wee. 

“Well, shoot, you must be that Farsul girl that's been taking all of Cole's attention!” He shouted, causing Pini's tail to wag even faster, Lalu to give a sly look in my direction, and for me to bloom. Elders, he makes it sound like I'm some sort of lover.

“I-”

“I am! We are best fwiends!” Pini shouted, unaware of the tease the crude Yotul was attempting.

“That is sweet, girl, but I was referring to your mama here.” He responded with a motion of his paw.

“O-oh, I'm not her mother. I'm her elder sister.” He simply smiled in a human way.

“Well, whatever you are, I know you are friends with Cole, and I got some things for you. So hop on over.

Before we could respond, Pini had wriggled free from my arms, ran under the plastic table, and was then quickly scooped up by the Yotul.

“I'm Behtek, by the way.”

“I'm Lalu, this is Evastra, and the little one you are holding is Pini.”

“Hi!” Pini shouted.

“Well, it's good to finally meet you. Come on in.” He then craned his neck in the direction of the male Venlil. “Hey Fahm! I'm gonna help these three!”

The Venlil flicked his tail in acknowledgment while still continuing to haggle with the others.

The inside of the ship was even more packed with human pelts, all organized by type, gender, and size. I reached out and brushed my paw over a dress that had a floral design of a flower with a brown center and large yellow petals. “This is certainly a lot of human clothes.”

“I know, right? I was only going to pick up a pouch full, but then those brothers just backed a trailer full of them into the hull while distracting me.”

“Brothers? And how did they distract you?”

“Cigarettes and beer.”

Mind-altering vices. Of course. I will never understand how the other species of the galaxy find that appealing, instead of keeping their brain pristine. Poison sounds like a bad time. Shaking the objectively correct thought from my mind, I asked about the brothers again. 

“Couple of friends that own a clothing company on Earth. They are doing backflips at the idea of their clothes reaching the stars. So here we are.”

He then walked over to a rack and grabbed a few clothes. “I think this is what Cole ordered for you two.” 

“Oh, I ordered these. Cole let me use his pad.”

“Ha! Using a lover's credit card already?” 

My face became the most vibrant shade of blue I think it has ever been in my life. Lalu even looked surprised at the crude primitive’s words. Pini looked up with amazement.

“W-Wha- I That's not- I-”

“Relax. I'm just pulling your tail.” He said with an awfully smug, human-like grin.

“W-well, you shouldn't spread rumors like that!”

The rude primitive just chuffed with amusement. I then felt a tugging at my leg. Pini was looking up at me with wide, curious eyes. “You don't love Mr. Cole?”

Hiding my shocked reaction, I responded. “I didn't say that.”

Her tail began to wag. “So you do love him?” She crouched a bit, and her paws waved about excitedly as she tried to contain her wonder. She then gasped again, “If you love him, will he live with us?!” She shouted, now trying not to jump.

“I, uh, well…” How do I explain this to such a little pup without confusing her?

She then turned her attention to Behtek. “I love Mr. Cole. He gave me his bean-wee.” 

“Yeah, yeah. He told me. It was his favorite one too, so that makes you special.”

She then gasped with such an elated joy. “Lalu, I'm special!” She said while trotting over to our old guardian.

“Was it really his favorite?” I asked.

“Don't know.” He continued to smile as he handed me the clothes I had ordered. One was a large tan cloak that reached to my ankles. Another set was the raspberry baret, a black and white striped shirt, with black jeans, and what was called booties to go over my walking paws.

“Those boots are special. Apparently, they are adjusted boots for humans, but those brothers used their pet dog to try to mold it. I got tools to adjust them if need be. Lenha is quite the seamstress.”

Flicking my tail at him, I put on the clothes. It was a bit awkward at first but eventually, I was able to fit in. The booties were a bit awkward. Especially when walking, but after a few moments, I was beginning to feel comfortable.

“Oh my stars…” Lalu gasped, “You look amazing.”

“You are so pretty, big sister! I wanna wear the pelts too!”

Turning my head towards a mirror, I could see my reflection… I looked like a brand-new person. But… I felt like I was more… me? Like I was showing the galaxy how I thought I looked. My paw traced the buttons and belt of the coat, the stripes of my shirt, and the seams of the pants. Maybe, with a few adjustments, and maybe do something with my fur… I would look like what I want people to see in me?

My thoughts were interrupted by a low whistle. The Yotul was admiring me. “You truly are a diamond that shines. For a non-Yotul that is.”

“Thank you?” I couldn't tell if he was being nice or giving a back-pawed comment.

“I wanna try! I wanna try!” Pini then leaped and dove into the clothing rack, making a mess of everything.

I went to stop her, but the Yotul just chuckled, coughed, and whistled in amusement. “Here you little wrecker. Your sister got you some perfect clothes.”

In his arms were a puffy pink coat, a few dresses and pants, and then a couple pairs of booties.

Pini's eyes widened so much, her paws flew to her cheeks, and she breathed in a deep breath before squealing with glee. Snatching them all up, she ran to Lalu, tripped once or twice, then began begging our unofficial grandmother to dress her.

“This is quite something…” I muttered under my breath.

“It is, isn't it? Who would have thought that you Feds would take to predator clothing?”

The comment made me pause for a moment. “Cole is really affecting things, huh?” My ears drooped, and I think it was obvious the thought of --my-- the human was affecting me.

Behtek scrutinized my face for a short moment before speaking. “It's Cole, huh?” I flinched, wanting to avoid the subject. “Let me guess. His predator habits were seen? With the bait?” A nauseous feeling twisted in my stomach. I simply nodded my head like how Cole does. “Figured. That and he told me why you wanted to be away from him.”

He then ran his claws through his head fur. “Look, let me let you in on a secret.” I leaned in closer, like a pup on their first day of school. “Cole is a predator.” 

And all my curiosity drained.

“Don't look so disappointed.” He said.

“I was expecting some wisdom.” I responded with annoyance.

“What I mean is, Cole is tasked with removing threats to the colony. A colony you live in. A colony that possibly has the deadliest creatures in the galaxy.”

I was becoming more annoyed. “What are you getting at?”

“Cole is an honest man. He wants to do good, do a good job, and do it efficiently. On Earth, he protected animals, predators, and prey from humans and protected people from animals. Like he is doing now.”

“I still don’t see what you are getting at.”

He gave an exhausted sigh. “Look, I ain't no good at this kind of thing, but I think what I am trying to say is, Cole is alien. But he isn't evil. He has been doing this his whole life. Yes, it is uncomfortable for you, Feds, but I think we both know that meat doesn't make you a violent sociopath.”

I scrutinized the Yotul, looking him up and down. “It is taking life.”

He rolled his eyes at me and clicked his teeth. “So is bombing planets and burning innocent animals.” These words sent a shiver down my spine, as they were said as if he were resisting the temptation of spitting venom. I remained quiet and waited for him to speak again.

He dragged a paw over his face, pulling under his eyes, “On Leirn, we have a companion.” 

I tilted my head. “Like, a lover? Or spirit?”

“No. A pet.”

“Pets?”

“Yes. They are called Hensa. And they are what you would call predators.”

My mouth hung agape.

Behtek's eyes bounced a bit, confirming I connected the implications in my mind. “They have been with us for thousands of years. Maybe longer. Liern scientists believed that they evolved alongside us. Despite them being predators and us as prey, as your kind would put it.”

“H-How is that even possible?” I-I mean, I knew that Yotul got overly aggressive about Exterminators to the point they would fight them over anything but predator pets?!

Behtek shrugged his shoulders. “Maybe what the Federation teaches is flawed.”

“I-If that is true, then why isn't this common knowledge?”

“Drugs, Exterminators, and killing do well to keep people quiet.”

My face drained in horror at his explanation. I- What is he talking about?

Now I looked down at my paws. “I… said to Cole that-”

He raised his paw flat in front of my snout. “He already told me, and he is a big enough source of emotional drama in my life.”

Rude.

He took another deep breath. “What I am saying is, maybe, just maybe, Cole is trying his hardest to live with you and your culture, and that your culture probably isn't perfect. Just… approach him with an open mind, yeah?”

I blinked a few times in thought. This was… Not at all how I expected the paw to go. And this is still just… confusing. 

My attention was then pulled towards excited giggling beeping. Pini and Lalu were twirling in their dresses and just gushing over each other. My tail wagged at the sight. 

Pini then darted towards me with such glee and dove into my arms. “Aren't I so pwetty, big sister?!”

“Yes, you are, little pup! The prettiest girl!” 

“I-I can't wait to show Mr. Cole!”

My ear twitched but… Yeah. Maybe it would be nice to show him. Not now but… maybe later.

[Advancing Memory Transcript 1 Solar Hour]

Some more time passed as we continued to dig through the clothes. Lenha, the female Venlil that we later learned was Fahm's wife, adjusted our clothes. She was really amazing at that. Turns out, the clothes she and her husband wore were actually made by her! Even the hats.

And another thing, I spotted the Magister and Head Exterminator approaching the ship. Probably to complain about it just being in a random parking lot. 

After all the excitement, it was time we headed back to the room. Pini was so excited that she burnt all her energy and passed out on my lap in the car.

Petting her head, I couldn't help but think about Cole and how he is doing right now. I hope his ancestors watch over him.

Memory Transcript Subject: Cole Trapper. Human, [Error] [No Description Found]

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 14 2136

Light seeped into the room through a small slit in the blinds, hitting me directly on my one good eye. With annoyance and self-pity, I pulled the sheets up and rolled over. My desire not to wake up hadn't manifested. 

Restlessness, gloom, and stationary dread were beginning to creep into my mind; so, begrudgingly, I pushed myself off the mattress, slid to the floor, and half-dazed, limped into the restroom. 

The first thing I did was look at the old and new scars on my body. Still old marks of failures. Still reminders of how others were hurt because of me. Brands that told me that I can never run away. 

Shaking my head, I reached for my shaver and comb. Nicking away long and loose hairs, curling back, cutting the sides to be uniform, and leaving the chin to be just a small bit thicker. It made me feel a small bit better. Then, I shaved my chest.

Once done, I grabbed a razor and began to shave the hair on my neck. This… It took longer than usual… and I got cut a few times… reaching for a small towel, I stopped myself. I couldn't leave any blood on them. I can't hurt anyone else. 

Next, I inspected my hair. It was starting to get too long. It could get caught between the butt and shoulder if I had to make a fast shot. I won't cut it this morning, though. Some other time.

Then, I sneezed. Three times. And all three times I felt my cheeks get sliced. A glob of blood leaked out of my mouth, and I made sure it all landed in the sink. I had forgotten that my teeth are not my own.

Trying not to spiral again, I showered and then brushed my teeth. My God, the brush hurt so much. The mint made the nerves in the teeth scream as well…

And finally, as if I had some purpose, I got dressed. Old boots, khakis, a black shirt, and a thin green, long-sleeved flannel. Walking to the door, I stopped to look at the entrance mirror. “Why am I even bothering?” I asked myself, pressing my forehead against the wall. “Where am I even trying to go?”

For a few short moments, I tapped my head over and over again against the wall, and then an idea came to me. Eva mentioned a museum. I could… I like those. Something familiar where I can just… get lost in what they have would be nice.

Opening the door, I looked over my shoulder at the empty, quiet room. 

[Advancing Memory Transcript 15 Solar Minutes]

The building was quite beautiful. Bubbly and curved architecture with many flowers and vines growing over the structure. Small artificial nests and burrows were placed about, and little birds and rodents darted to and fro. And all of it was tied together with a view of the water.

Pushing the doors open, I was first greeted with a refreshing air-conditioned fan, driving the humidity away. Then, a Venlil with a little sash, indicating him as a staff member, was quivering behind a front desk. 

“W-Welcome, Sir.” He trembled, “Please look around and enjoy y-yourself.”

I gave him a nod and continued walking through the museum. It was certainly interesting. A bit small, but there is still plenty of information here. The initial discovery by a Venlil scouting fleet, then the recon of the Jaur, who are specialized for extreme cold. Next was the information on the joint Farsul and Venlil scientists who studied the planet before colonization.

Walking a little further, there was a grand painting that took up the entire wall. The image was several Venlil, Farsul, and Kolshians all in a council-like setting, and centered in the middle of the image was a passionately yelling, tall Venlil. Wait… Seklall?

My eyes looked down at the bronze plate at the bottom of the display, reading The naming of Lahendar. Donated Anonymously.

I couldn't help but laugh. Anonymous, my ass. Shaking my head, I walked over to the next display, going over the initial fleet ships leaving Venlil Prime. The ships were Marshlund, Teal Ferns, Jaurlund, Windwood, Coast Fall, and Green Hills. They were the names of the towns. Keeps it simple, I guess. And there was one additional ship there.

My heart sank low. That must be the one Nyssora said they lost. The following piece was a large bronze statue of Nyssora, along with the fleet captains standing proudly. This was donated by the colonists of Lahendar. A sense of appreciation filled me. She deserves this.

The next displays were basic events, the wildlife, and some other noteworthy things, but as I was getting lost in the information, I stumbled upon a new display. It was a mounted Marsh Demon. It was… wrong. The spine was exaggerated to look like poison barbs breaking skin; claws seemed to have been replaced with a carbon replica that was sharper and longer, definitely not suited for wadding or digging through the marsh. Saw-like teeth meant for cutting were installed on the inside of the beak. And finally, the eyes. They were glowing, bright yellow. Nothing like the piercing gaze of the ambush predators that they were, demanding respect and fear. It disgusted me.

There was one other person here as well. An old, greying Gojid with a self-modified suit, and his badge hanging from his neck. 

“Disappointing, isn't it?” He asked without turning to face me. He certainly was eyeing me with his peripheral.

“I agree. It… doesn't look anything like the real deal.”

“Agreed.”

We stood there for a moment, mentally noting everything wrong with it. “Tell me, Predator, how efficient would this beast be?”

Tilting my head in confusion at his question, I rumored him. “First off, the way the spin juts out suggests venom, but that would only prevent the Marsh Demon from moving properly, and it would rip the skin each time it moved up and down. The claws are too thin and sharp. It would get caught on everything and snap. Possibly cause bleeding as the claws are non-retractable, so there is probably a vein there. And lastly, the teeth are shoved inside the beak. That would cause it to choke or even starve. It won't be able to properly eat.”

The old man scratched at his chin. “I see.” He then sighed and went quiet.

“Why would they do this to it?”

He shrugged. “I think to emphasize the danger of it.”

I couldn’t help but snort at the comment, and he seemed to flick his ear in small amusement before the uneasy air returned. Flexing my fingers anxiously, I took note of him. He was thin. His fur was shorter as well. And he looked so sick….

“I'm s-”

“Save it.” He snapped. “What happened is what always, and will always, happen.”

I furrowed my brows. “It doesn't have to.”

His lips raised, revealing his teeth, and his eyes dilated. He looked as if he was going to explode, but after a second or two, he returned to a neutral look. “That is a nice thought.”

Again, he was quiet. “Why did you cover for me?”

“You are a tool.”

Now I raised an eyebrow at him. “Tool?”

“Yes. A tool. Something that can be thrown into the maw of beasts instead of a good person.”

My eyes closed at his emphasis on good. “Glad that is what you think.” My eyes returned to the gross depiction of the Marsh Demon. “I am sorry. About what happened.”

Kaptchan spun on his haunches and snarled at me. “I said save it!” His teeth bared and his yellow eyes like pin drops. “You are only here because it is better that you are the one who dies instead of any other prey! 

“I-”

“Quiet! Don't thank me, don't apologize. You don't even mean it!”

Now I puffed up in anger. “Yes, I fucking do.”

“Spare me! You aren't even covering your face!”

Stunned, my hand slowly came up to my face. He was right. No mask.

“If you ever want to try and pretend you feel sorry, go out there, kill predators, and then die!” Steam exited his maw, and his body heaved. Then, he turned to a small trash can and threw up blood and bile. “Go. Just. Go.” He remained leaning over the can.

Walking away, I thought of his words. Perhaps he was right. What did I have to complain about? I had almost killed him. I hurt everyone near me. Maybe this is the way to do what is right? 

I had made it back to the entrance of the building, swiped my card on the donation panel, and exited.

Still thinking about his words and what had happened, I came to a conclusion. Maybe… Maybe it is best if I just… died.

*Oof*

Distracted, I bumped into a Venlil. Terrified, he looked up at me. “S-Sorry. Mr. C-Cole.” 

“No, ah, sorry. I didn’t see you.” I reached out my hand and helped him up. “You know my name?”

“Y-yes. It's been on the local news lately.” I nodded. “M-My name is Telnek. M-My brother was Tanek.”

My blood froze at the mention of his brother's name. But… where did I hear the name… oh… oh no…

“I-”

“I'm sorry!” I shouted, causing him to jump a few feet back.

“S-sorry? For what?” He asked, mouth agape, chest dramatically rising and falling, and eyes wide.

“I-I couldn't save him.” The world began to spin, and my head felt like an ice pick was jammed through it. “I didn't find him fast enough…”

“It's… You still found him, though. A-and you avenged him.” He twitched, “I heard that you were h-here in Marshlund. So I came down here.” He took a deep breath. “I-I wanted to say thank you.”

“You… shouldn't.”

“I want to. You did what Exterminators wouldn't do. You went beyond their patrol routes and put an end to a beast. Just to keep us safe. A-And now a new star has formed in the sky.” He brushed his wool back. “I couldn't possibly thank you enough.” 

Before I could answer, he gave a small bow and hurried away. That was… odd. Like he came out of nowhere at the right time. My fingers began to play with the pendant I hid under my shirt. I need… I should talk with Josh…

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Looks like we just started the process of Cole and Eva eventually getting back together (platonicly). And maybe Cole will heal mentally now! Well, I will see you all next time!

Hey, Hey, Everyone! I'm back! Sorry for the long wait! Got a real treat for y'all. Dots and Biju chapter! Let's dig in!

ALSO, I HAVE A SPOT ON THE DISCORD NOW, SO COME CHECK THAT OUT!

AND THANK YOU TO u/DovahCreed12 & u/Jutsa-Shiny-Haxorus & Shamrook (Discord) & u/VenlilWarangler  u/Kindofflame & Zoé Selardi from Ao3 for proofreading and editing!

Thank you to u/SpacePaladin15 for the creation of this fantastic universe and for sharing it with us, as well as the NoP community as a whole.

I also want to thank the many fans for creating such wonderful creatures to populate Lahendar!

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Story Synopsis

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Memory Transcript Subject: Dots. Hot Venlil, Secretary.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 13, 2136

I'm a Barbie girl, in a Barbie world~

Life in plastic! It's fantastic!

Once again, I was making my way to the Human’s home. He was recently injured and stuck at the hospital, so I again took it upon myself to watch over his den. I mean, stars know how he would react if something happened to it after being injured. 

A shiver ran up my back. I am being a good citizen, watching over it. Yep yep.

Rounding the bin, I was greeted with the familiar sight of the wooden building, the stream, and the lazy water wheel that lapped at the water. It really was such a luxury for the Human. 

Sliding into the yard over the gravel path, I kicked off my paw extenders and hopped off the log books I used as a booster seat. “Time to get sweaty!” Kinda. Venlil don't sweat much, but the woman in the video always shouts that at the start. 

But as I approached the den, I realized I already had my first obstacle.

The large, locked, ornate door. And It seemed to have more locks than before. Boooo.

Nyssora confiscated my collectible Exterminator lock opener I bought from an Exterminator surplus store, BUT I knew how to get through. The Yotul have a strange custom of leaving keys hidden outside.

After a few hairs of searching, I found it tucked under the steps and opened the little disguise to retrieve my treasure. “Tower,” I muttered with glee as I turned the lock and entered the abode.

Just a walk down the hall and a push through the door, and I am now in the garage. I dropped my bag, put on the homemade sweatbands, and got ready. Turning the mounted T*-V on, I was greeted with the familiar voice of the human woman.* “Time to get sweaty!” The woman yelled. 

“Yes!” I shouted back. Music began to play as I hopped on one paw and drove my knee into the air along with the humans on the screen.

“Excellent start, girl!” She declared as we were now entering into a lunge, and I had picked up two weights in my paws and one in my tail. Oh, this was so fun! And shaving my fur was such a good idea. I'd be overheating otherwise.

“Alright, now throw those arms out and fly!”

And in tandem with her, I started flying by slowly extending my arms out to my side, and slowly went up and down with them. It sent a burning sensation through my arms and upper back, but it felt so electrifying! I could feel myself getting bigger!

*Crash*

“Ah!” I shouted, spinning on my paw towards the sudden glass sound smashing onto the ground. But, due to being unbalanced and tired from the weights and workout, I lost my paws from under me and came crashing down. All three weights slammed into the floor of the garage and added new cracks. Oops….

No! I can't be distracted. ~~Evidence~~ Damage has appeared here, and I must clean it! I pushed myself off the floor and approached the door to enter the main house. Nervously, I walked inside.

The house creaked with each step I took down the green carpet-covered hall. My eyes and ears swiveled, searching for the source of the noise, and when I finally made it to the kitchen, there was a small, broken pile from a vase that fell off of a shelf.

“Oh, darn,” I muttered to myself, “Did I really get startled from this?” With a half-annoyed, half-relieved sigh, I began to pick up the pieces. “That human needs to be more careful; this planet gets three hundred tremors a day. Things will fall.”

When I finished picking the pieces up, I tossed them in the garbage under the sink. Good. Now let’s-

Meahhw!

My ears swiveled in the direction of the sudden and sharp noise. Then, lying on Cole's couch was a sight of horror. A dreaded, horrific beast! White fur with black stripes covered the body, sharp, white fangs hung past the lips, reflecting the light, and green predatory eyes locked onto me. 

H-How did such a monster get i-in the human’s house?! C-Can't it smell his scent?! That must mean… IT ISN'T AFRAID OF COLE!

The beast stretched, and many claws extended out from the paws. Oh stars. Retractable claws mean that they are extremely sharp! It's going to render my flesh!

My heart beat louder and louder as the world was becoming green. 

*Hrk*

Think! Don’t vomit! Use your superior prey brain! Think of something! 

My mind raced and rushed to a solution until it remembered what was written in that pamphlet the Human shared with Seklall over the computer. Make noise! 

Frantically, I looked around the house and saw a pot and pan sitting on the stove. I rushed for them and held them tight. Spinning my body back, the creature had gotten closer, and it licked its white teeth in salivating ecstasy. Near panicked, I swung the pots and pans hard into each other and created a deafening clang. 

The noise startled the monster so badly that it jumped an entire six tails into the air! Then, when it found purchase on the ground, it scrambled and flailed before darting down the hall. 

I- I did it! I really did it! Yes! I am Dots! Warrior Woman of Lahendar! He he~ That has a fun ring to it. Like that book, I have been borrowing from the Human’s library. 

I looked at my weapons and… oooohhhh that's a big dent and scratch…

Anyway, I had to escape. Being in the house with a predator was a bad idea. Oh stars, I can't believe how calm I am. And my whole body is shaking with excitement. Should I call the Exterminators? N-no. They will burn the building down. And then question me. I'll just inform Cole later. I would rather avoid getting interrogated by Bh-

Meraawu.

…

I should leave. Now. Making quick with my escape, I darted for the back door. To freedom and safety. And- “Ah!”

N-No! Th-This can't be! On the back porch were at least a dozen lazing Grass Pouncers! A-And even more in the field! Th-This is a hoard! An invasion! I retreated inside and slammed the door shut. Locking it, my back pressed against it, and I slid down. 

Paws flew up to my snout, and I began to both laugh and cry. “This is it! I-I’m locked inside with a deadly predator, and I can't escape! This is it! The end!” I then slapped my cheeks. “No! You are not going to panic! What would Brother think of you?!” Wiping away my tears, I stood up and prepared to face the danger. 

Looking for any protection and defenses, I quickly placed a pot on my head and grabbed a broom. Anything to keep distance.

Then, with one shaking step in front of the other, I made my way closer and closer to the front door. It's okay. It's okay. It's only one predator. And you already scared it away. A-And it is decently small. 

I made it to the end of the hall, and the enemy was perched on a small end table next to the door. Alright. I can do this. H-How did my brother explain it? 

Oh! Legs shoulder-width apart, bring back shoulders, broaden chest, breathe in deep, then… charge!

My paws thumped hard over the carpet in my intimidation, and the beast raised its hairs on end in my bravado! Yes! It's going to work! 

I was only a few paws away now and-

A large, stripped neck frill expanded wide and rattled as the monster hissed.

*Thunk* *Crash*

[Error] [Error] 

Subject Has Lost Consciousness. 

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Memory Transcript Subject: Biju. Tillfish, Defender Of The Small.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 13, 2136

The cool air signaling the approach of the freezing season felt exceptionally well on my carapace. I always enjoyed the cold. It made my lungs and brain feel relaxed. It was certainly not a normal morning, as emphasized by the excitable hosts over the radio. 

The situation with the human is just so absurd. 

Which one?

The one here on Lahendar. The one on Aafa with Governor Tarva is a completely separate issue. 

Right. But why so absurd? I heard the human was very helpful since being here.

True, but now it was placed in a hospital along with the Chief Exterminator of Marshlund. 

So he got injured defending us, so what?

That isn't the point. The point is that this human brought a Farsul woman along on the extermination and-

“I think that is enough radio for today. I prefer quiet now.” I chitted while turning it off. 

I rounded the bend that was just before Cole's home and slowly pulled into the front yard. It really was a nice home that was, in my opinion, a bit wasted on the predator. I mean, he is only one person. A home like this could better suit a family in need. The yard would be perfect for children to run around and play.

…

Stop thinking that. It is not your house. This is simply a wellness check. 

Now, as I was surveying the yard as I exited my personal vehicle, my ommatidia landed on the massive, bright red Mazic-style truck that only one person in this entire colony would drive. 

With an annoyed sigh, I made my way to the front door. It was locked. Hmmm… I'll try the back door. Taking my time, I enjoyed the view of the Yotul-style water wheel lapping at the lazy amethyst water. Many birds sang and danced in the air, and the powerful trumpetting of the Elphura echoed so close. Jaurland must be nearly frozen over now if they were so close. 

When I made it to the porch, I was startled, as there was an entire pack of Grass Pouncers lazing about. With swiftness, I drew my pistol. But before I could get a shot off, the small predators noticed me, and they all committed to a mad dash as to escape. 

“Ha… how annoying. The human being injured must have emboldened these predators.”

Focusing back on my objective, I reached for the door, and to both my delight and surprise, it was open, meaning I didn't need to use my Guild-issued lock pick. I mean, if a door is open, they expect people to enter.

The inside of the house smelled and looked pretty normal, other than a stronger sweet scent than last time I visited with Head Exterminator Nyssora. I did notice the many framed pictures of the predator and his kin, which was interesting. But I just wanted to check on the state of things, so I paid little mind to them.

“Dots?” I called out, “I saw your truck. Please answer and explain why you are here. Again.”

No reply. “Must be because she is hyper-fixating on something again.” 

I then began to make my way to the front of the home and- “Dots!” I shouted. Lying on the floor next to a large crack in the wall and wearing bright synthetic pelts along with a pot on her head was the tiny and unconscious body of Dots. 

Dashing over to her, I lifted her in my arms. “Dots? Dots wake up.” Her head simply lolled to the side. “Alright then.” I then pinched her stomach to wake her.

With a hard snort, her eyes shot open, and her paws flew to where I pinched. “Owwwwwwweeeeeeeeee!” She bleated with all her might. “That hurts!” She continued to shout with some tears forming in her eyes. 

“Good. You are awake. Please explain what happened.”

Her eyes were sharp as she glared at me. She then wiggled out of my arms, crossed her arms and legs, turned away from me, and pouted. “No.” She simply spoke.

“Dots, please tell me why you were at the predator's den.”

“No. I don't wanna.”

“Why?”

“You were mean.”

…

“I apologize for being mean, Dots.”

She opened one eye to look at me. “Good.” Then, without uncrossing her arms and legs, she spun herself with her tail to face me. “Well, if I have to tell you, I was here to check in on Cole's home as a good neighbor.”

“Neighbor?”

“Yes. Neighbor.”

…

“I guess…” I said with annoyance as I rubbed my temple. “Why were you passed out?”

She then brought her paw to her chin and became deep in thought. “Hmmmmm…” She leaned to one side, “Hmmmmmm…” She leaned to the other, “Hmmmmmm...” She leaned again, and her head was nearly touching the floor. “Ah! Right! There is a predator in this den!”

…

“Dots it's a predator's den-”

“NOT LIKE THAT!” She shouted. “It's small and white with stripes and big teeth, a-and its neck gets larger when angry, and it was going to eat me!”

“It was?” 

“Yes! It was really scary!”

“I see. And where is it?”

She jumped a bit at my question. “I… I don't know… Oh! You're an Exterminator! Exterminate it!”

My antenna twitched with annoyance at her demand, but she has always been that way. “I accept.”

Her ears then slapped and her tail excitedly thumped against the floor. “Oh, thank you, Biju! I just knew you would save me!”

“Of cour-”

“Less talky, more worky.”

…

“Of course. Any idea where it might be?”

“Hmmmm…” Maybe in the living room?

“I just walked through there.”

“Maybe you missed it?”

“I highly doubt my eyes would have missed it.”

“Well, maybe you did.”

Always with the pushback. Oh well. I will humor her. If I did miss it, then this predator is extremely small and practically harmless, no doubt.

Turning, I made my way back to the living room. Scanning the area from the kitchen, to the back doors, to the couches, I believed it empty until I saw faint movement of a blanket moving. “Eugh.” The sight left a feeling of disgust that the predator Dots was speaking about was certainly here. But, given the size of the lump under said blanket, it certainly was a small predator.

So, I walked over to it, ready to snatch it by the neck. My exoskeleton offered great protection, and so the risk of injury was extremely low. 

“1… 2… 3!” I ripped off the blanket, and the small beast spun out and was dazed. Striking forward, my mandible nearly found purchase at the scruff until-

*Hiss*

The beast barred its larger-than-expected fangs and hissed. A large frill exploded outwards from the base of the head and rattled with extreme force. It startled me so much I thought I was going to molt, but, due to my training with Nyssora, I immediately changed direction for my pistol, and I began to draw to shoot the horrid abomination.

“No, don't!” Cried Dotrix, causing me to falter and shoot into the couch.

“Dammit, Dot-” The little predator leaped with claws exposed and latched onto my head before leaping once more and hiding in the kitchen. Still hissing along with the rattling noise of the frill.

“D-don't shoot in the house!” She yelled. 

“It's a predator, Dots. I have to put it down. It's my job.”

“I-I know, but. What if we just like, shoo it out?”

I wish I could blink to express my surprise to her, but I could only let out a disappointed whine. “Why….”

“W-Well,” She began, anxiously bouncing on her paws, “I-It just occurred to me that, well, the Yotul uh- um, it might be his?” She finished with a wince.

Tilting my head to the side, I looked to the beast's hiding place. Ducked under the table and hissing. It even swiped its paw at me, despite the space between us being more than twelve mandibles.

“Hmmm…. The Youtul did have a mass… re-education campaign over them hiding predators…” Looking at it again, it did seem to be more scared of us than, well, me. Dots will certainly faint again. Speaking of Dots, she did pass out, and it didn't eat her. “That is certainly a situation.”

“What?”

“What if…” my mandibles twitched in thought, “What if this thing is like the Human?”

Dots blinked several times in confusion, “W-what?”

“What if it is here to help? Why else would it be in this den?”

“Maybe it just broke in?”

…

The irony was not lost on us.

Dots spoke up again. “S-so now what?”

Placing my mandibles on my temples, I came up with a plan and opened the back door. “Alright, Dots. Take that broom and shoo it this way.”

I could tell she became several shades lighter after hearing my plan. The short fur definitely gives it away. She then inched forward with the broom outstretched. “G-go out the d-door p-predator.” The thing refused to move and let out a whine. “P-please?”

“Just push it hard. I'll redirect it outside.”

“B-But won't it hurt you?”

“My exoskeleton will protect me.”

“O-okay…”

She then bopped the beast's rear, and it hissed at her. She faltered a bit but then took a deep breath and did it once more. 

When she hit the backside of the monster again, it lunged into the air with a lightning-like spring. Dots screamed and swiped the broom through the air at the little creature, missing it completely and striking a vase that was placed on the island, sending it through the air with an arch and crashing through a window.

“Dots!” I yelled in an attempt to stabilize her, but it was too late. She had spun on her paw, fell, and passed out on the floor. 

The beast then pivoted and launched towards me. It grabbed onto my shoulder plates and attempted to bite, but it was futile. The curve of my faceplate of my carapace was too smooth; its teeth slipped each time it tried to pierce me. 

Now having it in my grip, I could readily assess it as it thrashed around. It was surprisingly heavier than I thought and even softer. “Strange. Usually, predator pelts are matted, rough, and overgrown. But this one shows care.” 

The creature then stopped flailing and tucked its legs into itself, and the frill shrank as well. Its breathing became a little faster, causing the black and green nose to flare slightly. The yellow eyes even grew so large they covered the whites of its eyes, and a soft, comforting purr could be heard. 

Hmmmm…. Looking at it like this… it seems like it is attempting to appear cute. The beast must have sensed the odd thought in my mind and gently reached out its paw with no claws extended.

“You really are trying to appear cute, aren't you?” The creature’s ears perked up, and the tail lashed with glee. “Oh well.” I then tossed the thing out the door. It gave a surprised yell, but I closed the door before it landed.

“Definitely not falling for that trick. No predator is cute.” Washing my mandibles in the sink, I began to scan around the room and assess the damage. “Maybe… Maybe we should try to fix some things…”

[Advancing Memory Transcript 3 Solar Hours]

I was now driving back in my van. A couple hundred credits later and three-quarters of fuel later, and I was at least able to fix the window and patch the hole in the couch.

Dots then stirred awake in the passenger seat as I pulled into my driveway. “Mmmmm, did we get it?”

“Yes. I left your truck there.”

“Oh! Thank you.”

“You are welcome.”

…

“How was the house?”

“I fixed the window.”

“Oh, good!” Dots then fidgeted in her lap. Her digits fumbling over themselves. “Thank you for coming to my rescue. I was really scared.”

“Don't mention it. Let me know when you go back. I will take you.”

She opened her door and replied. “Thank you, Bijou. You are a really good friend.”

“Anytime.”

I then watched her leap over the little neighbor fence on my property, and her paw got caught, causing her to tumble in her yard. When she stood up, she was covered with grass stains. Brushing herself off, she disappeared into her own home. 

Stars. I can't even begin to imagine what goes on in her head.

Memory Transcript Subject: Dots. Hot Venlil, Secretary.

Date [Standardized Human Time]: September 13, 2136

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Memory Transcript Flagged As Disturbing And Potentially Endangering To Both Prey And Predator Minds.

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Thank you all for reading! I hope to get the next chapter out soon!