Thou Have Yet To Become Me

(5638 words, ~24 minute read. https://nimbatcolony.info/thou-have-yet-to-become-me) 

“If the one that’s supposed to keep you safe can’t even be trusted, how do you go to sleep at night? How do you look at your world, imagining a thousand ways of how it’d all burn down when the veil was lifted. The best you can do for now is to keep everyone feeling hopeful, just like you were taught.”

“I told you, you didn’t have to go and bust out the wine. This is a, ah…you know, a business-related expenditure, isn’t it?” Baron conjured up a sheepish smile at his companion for the day: a gray, purple-eyed member of his kind, clad in little more than a shoulder bag that supplied everything she’d wanted to bring for the occasion. A bottle of red wine was among one of the treats–along with a pair of accompanying glasses–but other goodies were nestled safely within the bag, including a few mustard buns from a village over a thousand miles from the Colony proper, and a couple of grapefruits. The arrivant began to bend her knees, sitting her shins atop of the red-and-white-checkered blanket that hosted the fiery red Nimbat that sat on the other side. Judging by the exchange of smiles, there’s some kind of unspoken yearning for familiarity and warmth between the two, simply two people trying to strike up a meaningful friendship by meeting outside their usual sects.

Try as Baron might, though, he couldn’t quite erase the authoritative respect for the other. This picnic featured Eislyn, the very Elder of Protection. One of the most enigmatic inhabitants, boasting a particular set of skills that’d more than prove her title’s worth. She was the first and last line of defense for the entire Colony–many of the protective centers and processes were already operating at full capacity while she was alive. Should that and the proud officers in the Defense sect go down, she was the last resort. Supposedly, that’d only happened once in the Colony’s history, and it ended with the rampaging behemoth seeing and discovering things that no animal ever should, making it cower and whine in hopes that a nameless god would save them from whatever it just witnessed. That report was never confirmed or denied, but years later, those rumors are still being talked about. Eislyn was one of the trump cards of the Colony, and here she was sitting down to enjoy a picnic with a coworker; Baron, a Security officer that typically roamed the Colony in a given path and filled out a usually uneventful report at the end of his shift. He only met Eislyn in the “workplace” once a month, to pick up on any perceived warnings that surrounded or settled in one given area or another.

Eislyn closed her eyes slowly as her smile grew. “I’m being honest, I wanted to try and flatter you a bit.” She’d already begun pulling that cork out, easing it out without a terrible amount of effort. “I’ve begun to understand some of your recent troubles,” she said, not taking her eyes off of her company. Baron might’ve been a bit more bothered if he didn’t have some lengthy experience in working with Eislyn. This Elder does not mince words. Sure, it wasn’t like she was going to call someone out in a crowd and tell them their fly was down, she at least had the decency to tug ‘em off to the side before addressing things directly. It just so happened that she was opting to season the occasion with a bit more pleasantry before ripping the bandaid off. “This is a safe space–you can tell me whatever seems to be problematic.”

Well, she’s offering, and she’s got the goods laid out. The red one grabbed at a glass, and poured out the contents himself with haste. He was just about to guide the toxic delight to his lips when his hues captured the Elder’s reaction. Her brow was furrowed, and her stare was a bit more focused than usual. This was enough to convince Baron’s paw to lower the glass, but his expression didn’t even twitch. “Eh, maybe not.” He just placed it by his side, mindful as not to let it tip on the uneven ground. His back began to incline, and his arms took the brunt of his weight by pressing into the blanketed earth. Anything to relax. After a quick inhale, Baron spoke, “You bother me.” Blunt. Just like Eislyn, who didn’t even look remotely taken aback at the stab to her personhood. “Nothing wrong with the way you organize the Flight, or how you talk, or anything like that. But, I do have a problem with trusting you.” He just couldn’t stay comfy, no matter what he tried. That incline rose to a more straightforward position, daring to stare the gray one straight in the eye. “And I’m not talking about whether or not you’re a baddie or something. You’re probably not out to kill us or enslave us. Uh, hopefully.” He squinted some. “You know how a handful of people in the outside world seem to believe that they live in a simulation? Usually just some belief that their world governments are faulty for a reason, but it’s not like they have some grandmaster illusionist in upper management.” Baron’s lips curled into a cheeky, nearly toxic smile. His tail even curled against the ground, like a coiling snake taking a nap. “So, I’m offering you an opportunity to speak your case, m’am. And if it turns out I’m talking crazy, you can put me on—“

“You’re talking too much again.” The Protection Elder didn’t do much more to emote aside from nibbling into a mustard bun. She didn’t even touch the wine. Baron stopped, watching and waiting for the older Nimbat to find her moment to talk. It came about around a second after she swallowed. “The short answer is that you don’t live in a lie. Ninety-nine percent of things in this Colony are physically real,” she said with a grunt, draping her tail against her own lap. “The long answer is…not my favorite to explain. But for you, I’ll try.” Eislyn put her bun down, and slipped her paws into her lap. “Ah… My expertise in illusory works is primarily for my Flight. This much you know. You might also know that I can be in many places at once. Talking to others, conducting lessons, attending meetings. Usually, just an illusion taking my shape and design.” As Eislyn began explaining, Baron did nod, leaning in a bit to listen with a harder, steeled mind. The Elder continued, “You want to know how you can trust me, when I am able to place a thousand veils in front of your eyes.” She paused, and took a deep stare straight into the tom’s eyes. Her expression had dulled, in some serious, almost scary way. Like she was about to tell him what happens after he dies. “Fear is one of the most consistent practices of security for any given people. Hope, meanwhile, is one of the most consistent means to inspire a people to do better. I provide both; I appear in many places at a given time to remind everyone that I am still watching. But, I am there for everyone I could try and be there for, to let them know I am still here. Does that make any sense?”

That explanation made sense to him, sure. She’d described herself as more than a mere thorny shield. She saw herself as some ideal superhero. Cheeky, and ambitious. But Baron wasn’t solely convinced. In fact, he’d believed Eislyn had shown her cards very early on, probably a rare slipup in her attempts to ‘flatter’ the red Ninbat. “Sure. Except, uh…quick question. How’m I supposed to feel inspired when you’re just hardly there, just listening to whatever we have to say? You don’t really do much but just…show up. Unless there’s some beast that catches us on an off-day, you just open your mouth and tell us everything’s gonna be okay. And if someone questions how you can handle things, you throw on a fake picnic.” He grabbed at the glass of wine by his side and splashed it on himself. The red fluid just disappeared the moment it touched his fur. It didn’t even feel wet, or cold. It was just gone. Eislyn looked like she was ready to punch the guy, yet at the same time, she looked pinned. Baron didn’t push. In fact, he didn’t look anything more than frustrated, albeit collected. “So, again. How can I trust that you’re not just lying every step of the way for…who knows what?”

Shockingly, after he’d been so bold as to approach this being that could make him think he’d become a slug, he began to retract and curl his limbs closer to his body. He almost looked apologetic after his attack. “I’m honestly scared. I don’t think you’re out to hurt nobody, but I’m not convinced I have it this good. Not like my life is perfect or anything, but…” Baron stopped, losing his wording and trailing off. It didn’t take him long to notice the sincere silence from Eislyn. He looked up, and looked at her worried demeanor. The blanket below, her pack, all the refreshments of the get together she’d created for them were vanishing, losing every single bit of opaqueness. The feeling of ground and grass returned to Baron’s bottom. Eislyn muttered in defeat, “I don’t have anything more to say. I don’t know how to convince you I’m…on your side. Without something going terribly wrong. And if something did, maybe you’d be convinced I just did that in case there were other dissenters. I don’t know what else to do or say. Except…”

She stood. She wasn’t actually there, but the emotional output was very convincing. Just a look of absolute defeat—like the walls of the Colony had broken, and there was little she could do but stand, watch, and weep. “I believe in this Colony. I have from the very start, the moment I was born into it. It’s why I worked as hard as I did to get here, and why I continue at it to this day.” Her wings twitched, and her tail curled up against her right heel. Her feet began to simmer, losing their visual integrity and giving way for the world to take their place. It ate up her legs, tearing at her waist and encroaching on her stomach. “If you believe in the Colony, that’s enough. You don’t have to believe in me.” Her neck disappeared, and her head followed suit. Not a remnant remained. Baron stayed where he was, watching the space where the illusory figure once stood and tried to humor him. Nothing else in the world around him seemed to change, uncaring as it ever was, by design.

-

Eislyn pointed to a diagram displayed on a mapping of the main Protection facility, which had a new under-level designated just where it ought to be. It seemed to sprawl out beyond the length of the main wooden building, and nearly touched the training grounds. “With everything addressed, we’ll be looking into construction of the Underground Classroom as early as next Spring. Any questions?” She addressed the makeshift lecture hall in front of her, consisting entirely of key members of the Protection Flight, and plenty of off-duty officers. A batcat covered in scars, nearly on the verge of getting into a shouting match with the loudest person in the room–who just so happened to be sitting right next to her–shot her arm up to make it clear she wanted to speak. Not waiting for permission, she asked, “Are we allowed to bring our own repertoire for demonstrations in this class? I want the opportunity to educate the students precisely just how dangerous things can get, and what sorts of measures may be necessary to–” Eislyn cut her off with a gesture of her paw. “Case by case. We can review it better next week… Anyone else?” Murmurs were all that filled the room, nothing completely audible to the Elder. So, she just rolled her shoulders and left with a bow, before her body completely dissipated into nonexistence. Baron was sitting just right around the middle row, barely having paid attention to the meetup lecture that ran for just an hour. He stayed there, not even watching the others leave. Not even the brewing argument between the scarred-up Nimbat and the red-eyed shouter stole any attention from him. Instead, he waited for this shawl-covered felid to walk past him, take a glance at the hall for something, and then slip out the exit. Then, he stood and lumbered over, not bothering to fly out. His wings were killing him, and his mind was just out of energy, translating to some kind of physical exhaustion that riddled his body and made him look far sleepier than he actually was.

Baron didn’t register his own journey from the exit. Everything seemed like a simple breeze, until his body accidentally went flush with a yellowish-white-colored sweetheart carrying a basket of grapefruit. A squeak escaped the gal, and she whipped around with a surprised demeanor. “A-Ah, sorry–oh, Baron! I was just waiting for you. Are–uhm, you look tired as sin.” The fiery-colored tom grunted, and lazily nosed into the basket wielder’s shoulder, just on the verge of using her as a pillow right there and then. “M’sleepy… You said you had uh, some meeting with Eislyn. How’d it go?” He slowly reeled himself back up into a standing position, rubbing the fatigue out of his eyes. Truth be told, these sleepy spells had started about a month ago. He’d told everyone that he had a pleasant picnic with the Protection Elder, and the wine was potent enough to mess with his sleep schedule. Top that off with his patrol routes and shifts, and he’s just never been able to get some proper rest. The scary reality was his and his alone; he wasn’t so sure if he was so comfortable falling asleep in a dream that could end at any moment. If he could, he’d take this Nimbat in front of him and get the hell out before things got bad. But, just like everyone else, she’d call him unwell. His friend hummed, and looked down at her basket. “It went alright. I told her about the owls, and she just said she’d have someone look at it soon. Then, she was off. Incredibly quick, honestly. Doesn’t she usually take a little over five minutes for reports?”

Baron blinked. Eislyn taking less than five minutes for a report usually happened when she was sick or tired. Less than three, she was bedridden. Less than two… That doesn’t happen. He looked at his friend, and just said, “She did seem under the weather during the lecture.” It took far more power for him than any spell he’d ever casted to not just wince upon lying to the yellow batcat at her face. “It’s alright, Magnolia. You…wanted to show me that viola you nabbed from Acquisition?” He was met with a giggle, and a gentle bonk on the belly with the basket. It felt a bit moist and cold at the bottom, making him recoil just a bit. “You know, sometimes you sound like her. Eislyn, I mean. You don’t like to beat around the bush.” Magnolia grinned, and took the sleepier one by the wrist, excited to take him back to her place. Though, while she walked, she did arc back to try and mutter in his ear as discreetly as she could. “I’ve heard similar stuff from others giving out reports to her. Super duper quick. It’s been going on for a bit, I think. You think she caught a disease?” Baron suddenly reached out and grabbed at her shoulder, clutching her tight enough to make her yelp and go still, staring at him with nothing but worry. It took a bit for the red fella to regather, and shake his head. For all he knew, he’d just pinned Eislyn into a wall. He confronted her, and now she’s guilty about it. His stomach curled into a knot, and pain shot up into his heart. Did she…? “M’sorry. I think I nearly fell over and passed out, hah.” Baron put up a sleepy smile, trying his damndest to hide the boiling fear that hung just in the back of the throat. His grip didn’t loosen–this Nimbat here was a companion closest to his proximity, and it’d be so easy to just hoist Magnolia and take her out of here. There was no way she was fake, of course. Like he, she might just be another drone living in an illusory realm, where the grapefruits in her basket looked and tasted so real that she’d be content with them, week after week. She deserved better than to live in what could be a lie. He didn’t want to take any chances…but at the same time, he didn’t want to choose what very well might’ve been a knee-jerk reaction conjured by his own panic. She’s already worried…

“Maybe I could use a nap when we get there. That alright? I promise, I’d love to listen to you play, but I’m not doing so hot. Let’s try again next week, okay? I just want to relax with you.” As tired as he was, though, he knew what a presence behind him felt like. His head cocked to the right, and his hues captured the sight of a black and red-colored Nimbat in shoulderpads approaching him, featuring…a nice, bleeding welt on his cheek. He stood there before Baron, breathing steadily, waiting to be acknowledged verbally, but Baron had to take a moment to be appalled. “You, ah…you alright? Jeez, that looks like it stings.”

“We have a problem at the Main Entry,” he answered quickly, touching under the swollen lump on his face. “Come with me. I’ll explain on the way.” Baron grunted, and looked back at his positively distraught friend, who’d been clutching her basket extra tight as everything unfolded. Magnolia’s spirits were given a lift when her friend hugged her around the waist, and tugged her reassuringly into the strong frame of his chest. “It’ll be fine. Be right back.” He let her go, and splayed out his shaky wings to take off, and join the guard.

The air didn’t feel so breezy this morning, though a fine rush against the sky did shake Baron’s up enough to start forcing him into a more awake state. They were moving fast, but not fast enough to make their sounds become lost behind them. The other was looking straight forward, clenching down on the eye right above his welt. “Some human very unluckily stumbled through the illusory barrier. I was the first to greet him, and I found out two things very quickly. One, he’s jumpy. Two, he’s blind.” He grimaced, and looked down with his open eye to see the closed gate. A whole line of other guards stood along the large, wooden doors that stood between some fencing that stopped into a series of trees. On the other side, there were five more, arranged in an uneven pentagon around a taller shape. Baron stopped at the same time his guide did, watching for a moment to get his own eyes on the situation. “Any idea where he came from? He alone? Nobody usually just waltzes in here–” The guard was quick to interrupt. “I get that. We think he might’ve been with a group of campers a few miles from here. We’re trying to get him calmed down, but I think he’s figured out he’s fucked up, and he’s scared.” The guard frowned. “We’re thinking of calling in Frequency to scare him off. That’s going to come with its own problems, but, maybe if she shouts loud enough, she could get the attention of his group.”

Baron scowled. “Yeah, sure. He’s already blind, let’s make him deaf while we’re at it. Lemme take a look.” He pretended not to hear any kind of warning quip from the other. His wings folded, shoving him down toward the earth and past the gate, right into the border of the fray, just behind another guard with a paw on a coil of rope. Looking up, he took a basic look at the distressed subject. Some guy in shorts and a tank top, a pair of small-rimmed black, opaque glasses, and a white, metal cane. Scruffy-looking, greasy hair, and lots of sweat pouring down his face. His bottom jaw was trembling, and his knees were shaking so much that they looked like they might just collapse. Baron placed his paw on the guard in front of him, and tried peering at the rest of the party in some silent gesture to not just jump the poor guy. Yet. “Hey, can you hear m–”

“How many of you fuckin’ things are around?! Lemme out! I don’t want no trouble!!”

That’s not jumpy. That’s being scared shitless. Nothing but adrenaline pooling in his intestines, at this point. Baron winced, and took a bold step forward, just outside of the range of getting thwacked by that cane. “There’s no trouble, I swear. Looks like you just wandered somewhere new, there’s some folks you can’t see, and…well, you’re terrified. We’ll get you out in a jiffy, alright? Nothing to it. You got a name?”

The calmer, focused tone coming out of the reddish Nimbat struck a chord with the man. He did pinpoint the general direction of the voice talking at him, making him very nearly stare at Baron directly. The clutch on his cane was nothing short of a vice grip. He just might make the leather handle pop and spill out its foamy contents. “Y-You didn’t answer my frickin’ question. How many of there are you? I know I hit one. Then there’s you, and I know I heard another voice or two, ‘cause it wasn’t the one that yelled when I hit ‘em… Look, I don’t wanna be here! I don’t want anything you have, just tell me where I oughta start walkin’, and you’ll never see me again. I don’t want nothin’ to do with you!”

Baron kept his cool, sweating the worry off of the side of his face. He forced his arms to loosen up, and his legs splayed out in a bent pose, just as he took another two steps forward. “If you walked out on your own, you wouldn’t make it far. The fact that you made it over here is nothing short of a miracle. Last we want is for you to stumble into danger when we could’ve helped you, alright? We can’t just let you leave. You don’t gotta put the cane down, just…walk forward, slowly, and we’ll settle you down so we can figure out together how to get you back with your folks safe and sound. How’s that sound to you?”

The scruffy man shuddered, and wheeled his head about, as if trying to use his ears to scout out what he couldn’t see. “You ain’t answerin’ my question!!” He snapped, and thank goodness, Baron was ready. That cane sweeped with enough force to create its own wind, and if the tom hadn’t tucked and pivoted his body to duck and avoid in time, he might just be walking back into the Colony with a welt of his own. This didn’t stave off the worries of the other guards, however. When Baron stood back up, he managed to see a collective nod from the grouping, before they began uncoiling their strapped ropes and squinting, knowing full well at least some of them would be receiving a beating before restraining this guy. Baron’s irises shrunk, and he shouted something he came to regret. “No, wait! Don’t restrain him–!”

“Oh, fuck me!”

Another voice broke out from behind Baron. “Enough. Back away.” A paw clutched Baron’s shoulder. He could feel warmth pour out from the pads and digits, as well as the tension behind the small muscles within, like they were prepping to throw a punch. The guards’ eyes widened, and they did just as the arrival had said. For good reason, too. It was Eislyn who’d stepped out and made herself known. Baron gazed at the gray Elder, wondering to himself how some illusion would come in and save the day. Or more importantly, why was it now that she decided to come and help on her own accord? Suspicions swung in his mind quicker than the swinging cane that came down and around, trying to fight back against the air itself in hopes of striking another Nimbat. Instinctively, he reached up to clasp a mitt over the top of Eislyn’s, to assert the situation and get her to halt. That’s when he felt something that made him choke on his own breath. The fur and the skin underneath didn’t feel nearly as real as Eislyn typically presented herself, when it came to touch. It felt…just normal. Nothing was exaggerated. The only thing that proved notable was the tiniest of twitches and ripples from her flexing digits, and the very physical tug on his shoulder from the attempt to escape him. There’s no way… He couldn’t marvel for long. The cane was coming down right on top of Eislyn, and his eyelids caved to a near-close, not fast enough to stop harm from coming to the Elder. He couldn’t see the panic from the guards, but he could feel it cloud the very air around him. What little he allowed himself to see, however, disproved what he knew. The older Nimbat’s right arm flicked up, and a purple-colored spark shot up the limb in time to clash right between where it would get struck by the cane, causing the man to lose his footing from the sheer force and wind up flat on his ass, shake the glasses off of his face, and drop a grip on his walker. Eislyn moved in without skipping a beat, stopping just in front of the man’s soles. “Let me help you,” she called, before her eyes became enveloped in a glossy purple glow.

A low hum-buzz sounded out from where the illusory wall began, as the air seemed to twitch and distort for a moment, as if it were being taken over by faint white noise. Inside the Colony proper, the illusory copies of Eislyn were disappearing, one by one. Baron and the guards could not tell just what was happening immediately. The man’s glasses once allowed him to hide the state of his eyes, and tell any passerby just what ailed his senses. The hues were colored a normal brown–the eyes themselves were not part of the damage. It was a nerve function that had begun to cease. The vital cords between his lens and his brain had essentially rotted away, thanks to a condition he could not foretell. Still, his brain was prepared to receive information, like a caller that sat at their desk all day, waiting for someone to return a message. It was here that Eislyn focused on, conjuring up an ultimate spell to trick his mind just like it had for so many before him.

He gasped when the grass sprouted underneath him.

His body was shaping itself. Fuzzy, at first. But then, it became distinct. He could see the calluses on his hands, the old stain of buffalo sauce on the breast of his tank top, the little cuts on his legs that’d been thanks to attempts to shave himself without help. The Nimbats came into view, as did the trees around them. The gate was wide open, unveiling a vast, bustling community. A happy, peaceful town that hosted winged felines, just like the ones watching him. He could see their faces etched in variations of fear. He could see another in the back, behind Baron, cupping under a welt that could’ve been due to a fierce blow to the face. His head looked upward, and an old memory came to him. How he liked to watch the clouds with his brother, and chew on sunflower seeds while they took refuge from the worry of the world for just a little while. Today, the clouds were puffy but humble, making their way through a gorgeous sea of blue, illuminated by a kindly solar god among the hidden stars. Tears openly streamed down his eyes. He’d struck in his panic–he didn’t deserve this miracle. “H-How did…?”

The one responsible for his miracle came to him, patting him on the shin and bringing him to sit upright, gasping at the demonstration of power from the gray, older Nimbat. The glow was bright, now. Bedazzling. Her arms were tense enough to start shaking, as was her jaw. Even so, she found a way to smile. “Ah… I am letting you see our fair Colony as I see it. A people trying its best to get by, and creating its own happiness. I’m…ah…happy to be a part of it. I..wish I could make this gift permanent…but, for what it is worth, I want you to enjoy it for a moment, before we help you find your way back… How long has it been since you saw anything?”

The man gulped, fighting back the urge to sob. His cheeks were a rosy red, moistened by the downpour of his own tears. “It’s been…twelve years. Twelve years, and I ain’t been able to see nothin’. I’d almost forgotten what our mornin’ sky looks like… M-My God. M’am, I’m…I’m so sorry for all of this, I went and hurt somebody and you turned around and…and gave me an honest-to-God miracle. I can’t ever…”

Eislyn patted his shin again. “That’s alright. You acted with all that you knew…to fight back against a world that…ah…wasn’t telling you everything. You just wanted to see the…truth. Again.” She looked down, and grit on her teeth as she sucked in air through the gaps, and her nostrils. “I want you to have this. It’s…yours. Your own miracle, no matter how short it may be. I…hope that it will encourage you to see others for who they are…and encourage them to be the best that they can be…a-ah…” Her eyes closed, and everything vanished in the man’s eyes once more. The sky remained fresh in his mind. Regret etched upon his face, but his first instinct was not to try and squeeze more from the illusionist. His head pointed to where he recalled her location, and he reached out, touching her soft, fuzzy middle. “U-Uh? M’am? Are you alright? Did you…? You nearly threw out your whole back just to lemme see the sky again for a minute.”

Eislyn’s right paw rested upon the top of his rough hand. Her eyes were still closed, and her voice had begun to sound hoarse and tired. “I-I…ah…did. I’ll be okay… Please, go on. Let my trusted ones guide you to a resting place. We can…make you a meal, and help you find your way. My name…is Eislyn. I’ll…be where I can…”

Baron snapped out of his awed stupor and wheeled over to wedge himself under the Elder’s arm, forcing her weight to settle on his body to ease some of the burden on her legs. The guards moved in, slower and gentler this time. A striped batcat tapped the man’s unoccupied hand, and tugged on him with just enough force to cement the idea of trying to help him up. The drained Elder brushed her soft mitt over his hand one last time before absconding it from his touch, so he could fumble for where he’d dropped his glasses, and his cane. In little time, the man was up on his feet, and he was hand-in-paw with a guard, who’d begun carefully guiding him past the gate. Words were being exchanged between the two–by the sound of the jovial tones, there was pleasant conversation. Baron drowned that all out, to focus on helping Eislyn walk behind. The gray Nimbat looked beyond tired. Her eyelids tried to part, but they were fluttering, and the eyes underneath were rolling up, trying desperately to fight off the urge to pass out. The red one kept moving, walking at an erratic pace, stopping to let her take a step or two. “Jeez. Hah, what’s all this? You couldn’t convince me that your whole picnic arrangement was real, yet you’re able to make a blind man see. You ever think you just might be a bit inconsistent?” He teased, flashing the fatigued Elder a toothy, playful smile. She put up a dazed, dizzy smile in kind, before breaking into a panting fit. “Haaah…aah… I was anxious, Baron. I didn’t want to…mess it up, with you.”

“Mess it up?” He blinked, dropping his amusement altogether. A guard waddled over to assess and step in, but Baron put up a gesturing paw to dissuade the assistance while he tried to get a reply out of his charge. She groaned, and laid her head on his shoulder. “You have the mark…ah…of a true defender of this Colony. Just like those I’ve chosen…for the most important roles in Protection. You don’t want to just protect…you want to inspire. As…do I. Like I’d told you.” Her head turned, to bring her nose to flatten into Baron’s shoulder. Her legs wobbled…and then, she flicked her tail, and found a more palpable footing. “You could be better than…me. I believe in you…and the rest. I can’t…be there for everyone, even though I keep…trying. It’s why I want you…to keep…ah…going. To be there where I can’t.”

Baron had nearly lost his own footing. Warmth shook around the walls of his cheeks, and his heart skipped a beat. He opted to turn away from the Elder, as not to give her any hint of his fluster. Or his uncontrolled smile. “...I’ll do my best, m’am. Thanks.”

Oh, he’d have a whole lot to talk about when he’d make it to Magnolia’s. Hopefully she’ll still be in the mood to play the viola.