-Charles Morgan

Sophia didn’t respond to John's pleas for forgiveness, which left himself with only the option to continue onwards. Venturing deeper into the rapidly thickening forest, John kept his eyes sharp for any sign of the Canid Reaper. She was more or less at home here - assuming she was in fact part wild dog, whether that was a wolf, coyote, or something more exotic like a dingo… John wasn’t so sure about the dingoes, actually. Still, she seemed to fit in with the wild aspects - it would have been rather adorable to find out she was part Corgi, though…

"Lunaya," John shouted after several minutes of fruitlessly searching in the direction that Sophia had pointed out, "where are you?"

John shouted a few more times before giving up. Lunaya's incredible hearing meant she either wasn’t around here after all, or wasn't willing to come to him. Even if she was hearing him and trying to draw his attention, she couldn't exactly shout out her location. John simply kept walking, glancing around.

He might have stumbled around for another thirty minutes or so had his ears not corrected the mistake his eyes had made. While circling a massive oak tree for what felt like the third time, John glanced up to the sounds of scraping and scratching and spotted a familiar face. High above, Lunaya was dangling from a tree branch. Both hands were firmly locked around the arm-sized branch, and her feet were scrabbling furiously at the tree trunk as she tried desperately to claw her way up. For a moment, John thought that she had been climbing and fallen, and he was halfway to starting his own reckless climb when he noticed the sheen of sweat on her, as well as the determination present on her face. There wasn't an ounce of fear in those eyes, only anger and certainty.

"Lunaya? Are you… okay?"

John didn't need to ask the question - he got his answer when she managed to pull herself up. Though she had utilized most of the muscles in her body to do so, she had succeeded in her ascent. However, the moment her head cleared the branch, she was lowering herself again, extending her arms to their limit before beginning that climb once more.

"She's training… she's getting stronger. On her own accord, without anyone's help…"

Out of curiosity, John cast a quick Observe on the glistening Canid Reaper. What he saw was fascinating.

"And it's working! Her stats aren't increasing evenly, either…"

Lunaya was a full two levels higher, although she apparently had no additional experience. Was EXP only a Gamer ability? It must have been - the odds of catching her at a perfect 0 / 1600 was incredible, and Lunaya had never accompanied them on a mission. She was actually ahead of the Nekos now, which was impressive even despite the fact she had started at a higher level. Given that, as well as her obvious drive to continue even having heard John's calls, he felt no desire to interrupt her. John took his place beside another tree, resting his back against the trunk as he watched Lunaya train.

In spite of her obvious fatigue and the fact that she was already shining with the fruits of her exertion, John was pleasantly surprised to find that Lunaya was not allowing herself to give up. Her arms had long since lost their ability to pull their own weight, so she was relying on a combination of arms, legs, and even abdominal muscles to pull her body above the branch. If John wasn't impressed by stamina, he absolutely would have been awed by her sheer determination.

"It's only been two weeks since I got Gamer's Body, but… I've started to forget what it feels like to be that tired. She doesn't even seem to notice, she's amazing," John noted as he watched her complete what felt like her thirtieth pull-up since he arrived. Regardless of the repetitive nature of the task, John's eyes had never wandered, glancing over every inch of Lunaya's frantic efforts.

Lunaya did eventually have to surrender to her own body. Halfway through one of her frantic scrambles up the tree, Lunaya fell back to her starting position. After an instant of struggling with her grip, she fell the remaining twenty feet or so to the ground in one go. John was worried, but the Canid caught herself with only the briefest wobble of her legs to show for her fatigue.

"…So, you really did want to get stronger?"

Lunaya didn't immediately respond, taking a moment to compose herself, extending her claws and skillfully brushing through her hair. Not a drop of blood tainted those ivory locks as she did so, showing off how apparently experienced she was with her own body. Even if she was only a week or so old, she certainly had the muscle memory of an experienced woman.

When she finally acknowledged John's presence at all, it was only with the most non-committal of nods. Her gaze was filled with the same intensity her workout had been, heterochromatic irises unwaveringly standing against his own.

"I'll just assume that's a yes," John said uncertainly, striding to meet her. Lunaya never retracted her claws nor averted her eyes. All he could do was attempt to match her in fortitude and hope that her silence was only a result of her tiredness and not any animosity she held for him.

"Lunaya, I know that you haven't always approved of my decisions, and I know that you're frustrated by being left behind. I will do what I can to help you around that, but… I've already told you once that I can't accept you influencing others or holding them back. I'm not completely sure whether you want Maera and Mithra to hold themselves back from fighting with me because you're worried about them or because you don't want to be the weakest. I don't even really know much about you at all - but I've warned you once before, you can't **** your desires on others. Just because I leave this world for a few hours or days does not give you permission to stop Maera and Mithra from playing or Sophia from scouting. Weirdly enough, I think what worries me most is that you haven't tried anything with Sophia, which leads me to believe that you're only trying these things when you're strong enough to enforce them… which means you know you're wrong. You know that your reasoning isn't good enough or at least that you can't explain it well enough."

Lunaya squinted at him, fury rising in her eyes. John could see it but chose to ignore it as he continued on. All the same, he couldn't deny the rising urge to grip his blade or to raise his arms in a defensive posture.

"So tell me - why do you hate fighting so much? So much that you would rather fall behind than engage in training against non-living foes and so much that you would rather take away freedoms from those who are weak than dare to strike out on your own to surpass them. If you hated conflict, I might understand, but you seem fine with conflict as long as it doesn't involve actually dirtying your hands. What exactly is it you're so afraid of?"

John received his answer in an instant - and unlike Lunaya's garbled writings, it was crystal clear. His face seared in pain as Lunaya's claws struck him, cleaving one of his cheeks and taking a healthy pound of flesh with her as she followed through with her strike.

-19 HP!

"Holy fucking shit," John grimaced, jumping back and summoning his blade from his inventory. The wound had already healed, but he wasn't going to allow a second strike - the Order's sword was firmly pointed toward Lunaya, even as she stared disdainfully at her freshly bloodied claws.

She continued to stare, even as he brought up his menu to check his health and mana levels to ensure that he could hold his own. Seras and Sophia were probably still nearby, knowing both of their personalities, but he was hesitant to summon them. Despite her instant hostility, Lunaya was now standing calmly before him, only inspecting her claws.

"That's… was that your answer?!" John asked disbelievingly, pointing his weapon at her face. She nodded grimly, eyes now focused on the edge of his deadly armament and narrowing to razor-sharp points. He had been more or less sarcastic in asking, but she seemed genuine in her agreement and her unwavering stoicism.

John's hand traced the wound as it vanished, coming away with a thin veneer of blood from what hat seeped free before Gamer's Body could kick in. That was either an answer or an attack, and she was not charging him or attempting to finish what she had started. If it was an answer, what could she mean? That she would kill anyone stronger than her? A foolish threat, in addition to a futile one. That she hated fighting? He knew that already. John looked a little closer into her eyes, trying to see past the immediate and overwhelming anger he could feel.

What he found, if his own intuition was to be trusted, was an undeniable layer of sadness and regret. Feeling his own flesh that remained eternally unscarred and without blemish from the sudden attack, John spoke to both himself and the steadfast Canid as he kept his blade aloft with his remaining hand.

"So… you hate blood?" A firm shake of her head and then an immediate resumption of gazing. "…Injuries? No, you hate pain."

Lunaya shook her head to both and then raised up her hand. Instead of attacking John, she drew her claw all the way from her lower eyelid to her chin, digging hard enough to break skin and draw blood all the way down. John reflexively held out a hand to stop her, but the motion was complete almost before he could do so - when her hand peeled away, Lunaya only continued to stare, showing no sign of the pain that was inflicted on her and her sadness no greater than it had been before.

"…Okay, so you don't hate pain," John admitted, glancing over the wound she had inflicted. Without Gamer's Body it remained, a crimson trail of faux-tears weeping from Lunaya's nearly opened eye socket. "But it has something to do with wounds, right?"

Lunaya nodded, gesturing again at the long line of red that trailed her cheek. Wincing at the sight as it continued to weep blood, John shrugged and once again returned his weapon to his inventory, hoping that the part of the conversation where Lunaya took turns hurting them was over.

"So you hate injuries. Do you hate seeing other people get hurt?" A firm nod - the most aggressive John had seen from Lunaya in some time. "Then why did you stop Maera and Mithra from playing? Why bother? They play all the time, they-"

Lunaya did not wait for John to finish speaking but instead frantically gestured with her hands. When John looked quizzically at the motion, she grunted in frustration and turned toward the tree trunk behind her, using her razor-sharp claws to start hacking away at the bark. John slowly stepped forward, still rather hesitant of approaching those wicked instruments of war. When he came within reading distance of her markings, John started to see the familiar -if broken - wording of a frustrated Canid.

Guard. Guard little ones

"Guard them? Maera and Mithra, you mean?" John asked, considering the smallest of his Purified creations. It was true that they were in a bit of danger when they went into Barriers, but John was always sure to instruct them to remain behind the safety of the rather powerful Seras and Sophia. When they were simply in his private world, they were in no danger at all - John was certain of that more than almost anything; neither of the Nekos would dare bring harm to their irreplaceable sister.

But Lunaya only shook her head, moving further down the trunk and beginning to scrape away again. This time when her hand revealed enough for John to functionally read, it had a more emphasized message, down to even underlining a few of the words.

Little ones, keep safe little ones

"What danger are they in?" John asked, subconsciously glancing back toward the campsite. "Lunaya, I don't want to offend you, but as little as a day or two ago, they were stronger than you - why are you suddenly so worried about Maera and Mithra?"

Lunaya growled, but it was not an aggressive sound - more an unbelievably exasperated one, the same kind of grunt or grimace John himself had made after numerous late night gaming sessions. The Canid approached John and gripped him by the wrist, fighting against his resistance to drag him along through the forest. John dropped his opposition to the movement when he realized she was no longer attacking him, but couldn't help his curiosity as she rapidly picked up speed until the two of them were sprinting along between the trees.

"Lunaya? Lunaya, where are we going?!" John queried, a bit of shock seeping into his voice as Lunaya carried them rapidly free of the treeline and back toward the campsite. She said nothing and made no gestures of reassurance, keeping their speed steady at what must have been the fastest she could muster. Even as they came within eyesight of the campfire and Sophia and Seras both locked their gazes on the approaching figures, she continued onward until John could feel the heat of the rekindled blaze. Seras stood from her position tending to the freshly restored fire, an unspoken question forming on her lips. Sophia's wings unfurled and her eyes narrowed as she evaluated the situation, trying to determine whether fight or - literal - flight was more appropriate.

Lunaya slowed but did not stop, continuing with lengthy strides past Seras, Sophia, and even Maera who looked perhaps more confused than anyone else. The silver-haired dog-girl didn't stop until she was standing beside Mithra, and John had stepped up beside her. Mithra had been asleep when they first entered the campsite but was quite obviously stirred by the rapid and forceful footsteps that carried themselves all the way to her bedding. One eye half-opened with a look of mild annoyance on her face, Mithra made a noise somewhere between a question and a warning growl as she lifted her head an inch off the grass.

Lunaya knelt down, gripping John's wrist firmly and forcing him to stroke along Mithra's chest. His fingertips touched her breasts as she began, and carried all the way across her sternum until he was resting his palm on her belly button. That was when Lunaya finally stopped, holding John's wrist for a few moments as her eyes met his gaze again.

"Lunaya, I don't… I'm sorry, I'm just really-" John was trying to articulate how confused he was, how hard of a time his brain was having putting what Lunaya was trying to say together. Lunaya seemed to have predicted this, however. Placing her hand over his, keeping his palm firmly pressed to Mithra's belly as the Neko closed her eyes again and went back to sleep, Lunaya began to etch words in the dirt between the two of them.

Little ones. Smell little ones. Keep safe, make strong. Can't weak. Little ones need.

"You- you didn't mean the Nekos- I mean you did, but-"

John's words died as his brain tried to shut down. He glanced to Lunaya's caring yet callous eyes, over Mithra's already sleeping form, and down to where his hand rested upon her stomach as Lunaya slowly lifted her palm from holding him down. Gently, John stroked his hand across Mithra's midsection, his eyes starting to blink as the new knowledge at last clicked in his head. Lunaya's words repeated themselves again and again in his mind - first in shock, then understanding, then pure and unmitigated reverence.

"Little ones. Mithra has… little ones."