Stupid Sexy Cryptids [107-109]

107: Raelle Knight

Time slowed to a crawl as Sage melted into Galateya's warm embrace.

The Hurricane of Foxness swirled through Sage's Fractal Engine heart, thousands of vulpine voices singing unique tunes, disagreeing, agreeing, ebbing and flowing to and fro like an ever-shifting river delta.

FRIEND FRIEND FRIEND! The tempest roared.

She HUGGED us! She understands! She called us FRIEND!

Warm dragon! Smells like justice and gemstones and wood and water and grass and flowers and…

Want to groom her scales! Want to curl up together in den!

She felt the Old Vixen Nuinne on her shoulder nod with maternal approval. Good kit. Smart kit. Found true pack-sister.

The Young Hunter Yeek, perpetually three years old, bounced excitedly. Play? Chase? Prey

She's not prey, you idiot, snapped Gage, the Garbage Genius, the urban fox who'd learned to navigate human civilization. She's pack. Pack means FOREVER.

Forever! Pack! FRIEND! Share kill? Hunt when? The rest of the pack sang. 

The metaphysical landscape around them resembled a Pacific Northwest clearing—moss-covered stones, towering Douglas firs, perpetual twilight broken by occasional rays of light. The trees, stones and grasses here were made of fox memories and the sky overhead swirled with aurora borealis composed entirely of fox spirits doing loop-de-loops.

Sometimes the foxes came down from the sky, solidified on the ground, danced amongst the pines, bounced through orange grasses of the steppes at the edge of the forest.

In the vast distance, far at the edges of her sense of self there were mountains. Ribs. Bones. The Skinwalker-edge boundary containing it all.

In the center of the soul-storm stood a girl. Not the Skinwalker called Sanguine Vale. The heart of the Sea of Foxes was a human soul. 

Her name was Raelle Knight. WAS. 

Because she died. On December 7th, 2021 at 4 AM, in this exact forest clearing beneath the light of the moon, devoured by a Skinwalker.

Died and became immortal.

But before then, Raelle was in a Seattle hospital room that smelled like disinfectant and the particular kind of fear that comes with drowning in your own lungs.

She was only twenty-one years old.

She'd been a cosplayer. An artist. A violinist who'd played street performances. She'd loved animals—all animals. The sketches covering her apartment walls featured everything from foxes to bears, wolves to ravens, deer to owls. She'd dreamed of becoming a wildlife illustrator. Maybe working for National Geographic someday.

Then Covid 19 came.

Not the first wave. Not the second. The third variant—the one that hit young people harder. The one that filled ICU beds with twenty-somethings who'd thought they were invincible.

She thought that it was a cold until she collapsed on the street getting groceries while feeling slightly fevered.

Raelle had been alone when it happened. Her parents lived across the country. She had just broken up with her layabout boyfriend. Her friends were not allowed to visit. The nurses were kind but overwhelmed, wearing so many layers of PPE that they looked like astronauts.

She'd posted her last message on Instagram, as her oxygen levels dropped: "If I don't make it, someone please donate my art supplies to a good cause. And tell the crows at Pike Place Market that I'm sorry I won't be bringing them peanuts anymore."

Three hundred likes. Fifty comments. "You'll be fine!" "Sending prayers!" "Stay strong!"

She wasn't fine.

The Skinwalker named Sanguine found her that snowy December night.

. . .

Sage had been hunting in the forests near the hospital when she'd smelled it.

A dying human girl radiating the most curious dreams, her body already coming apart, failing to contain her soul.

The Skinwalker followed the scent to a window on the third floor. Through it, she saw a girl struggling to breathe, oxygen mask fogging with each labored gasp. 

Sage watched Raelle for three days and tasted the edges of her dreams. 

By then, she'd already been a wizard. Already carried four  thousand and some fox souls in her Fractal Engine heart. Her body was draped in artifacts she'd crafted over the years—colorful hair clips that bent light, a choker that let her daywalk without notice, friendship bracelets that masked her magical signature, fox-shaped earrings that enhanced her hearing and sniffing, colorful ear clips that stored excess power, painted claws with runes that did a dozen small but incredibly useful things.

Nobody in her family suspected the depth of her power. They thought the artifacts were just fashion. Just Sage being Sage—eternally young, eternally playful, a teenage, carefree spawnling.

They had no idea she was hoarding fox souls like a dragon hoarded gold.

On the third day, Raelle's condition deteriorated past the point of medical intervention. The doctors had told her parents over video call: "There's nothing more we can do. We're keeping her comfortable."

That's when Sage made her choice.

She'd waited until 3 AM, when the nurses changed shifts and the hospital reached its quietest point. Then she'd activated several of her artifacts—the BARNYARD CASANOVA collar that made people's eyes slide away, the ear clip that muffled her footsteps, the hair clip that bent attention away from her presence, the MOONJUICE BANDIT friendship bracelet that completely masked her witchy powers—and slipped into Raelle's room.

The girl had been barely conscious, drowning in her own body, kept alive only by machines forcing air into lungs that could no longer process it.

Sage reached out and hugged the dying girl, pressing the foxy skull forehead to the human ginger head.

Reality bent.

. . .

Raelle suddenly found herself standing in a sunlit forest clearing.

She could breathe.

Actually breathe, without machines, without pain, without the horrible wet rattle that had become her existence. 

A nice dream. Maybe her final dream on Earth.

"Hey," a voice said.

Raelle turned.

A fox-like being stood there. Not a normal fox, not human. Something strange, in between.

The strange creature stood upright on digitigrade legs, easily seven feet tall, with a long elegant snout and massive pointed ears that swiveled independently. Red-orange fur covered her body, marked with freckle-like spots across her cheeks that looked like scattered dark stars. A magnificent red tail swished behind her, and her paw-hands were adorned with colorful bracelets and painted claws that sparkled with strange runes. Inexplicably, the fox-person was wearing a plaid skirt covered in rings, a choker, rainbowy clip-on earrings and a colorful friendship bracelet and a tank top that said FOXY DAYS AND FOXY NIGHTS with a drawing of a sleeping fox on it.

"Heh," Raelle uttered. “This is a silly dream.”

"Not a dream," the fox-person replied. 

“Oh?” Raelle asked. “Then what is all this then? And what are you supposed to be?”

“Yesterweave,” the fox said, “this is an Ersatz memory created with a Yesterweave hex. I’m Sanguine Vale. You’re dying. Your lungs are basically soup at this point. The machines are doing all the work for you and your body is getting close to the threshold. In a few hours your heart will stop and your soul will sink into the Astral Ocean."

“What?” Raelle blinked. She looked down at her hands. They looked real. Felt real. Way too real. She remembered being in this exact forest clearing to take photos of wildlife for her sketching assignment at university.

"I'm a Skinwalker. You can call me Sage,” Sage explained. “I can weave dreams, walk through them, bring people into them for conversations. It's one of my... many talents amplified with my wizard powers." She gestured at her accessories with a paw. "I'm basically a walking artifact factory at this point."

"A Skinwalker," Raelle repeated. "Like from the Native American legends?"

"Sort of. Less evil than the stories suggest. More... complicated." The fox sat down on a moss-covered log, her tail curling around her body. "Look, I'm going to be straight with you. You're dying. Nothing can change that. But I can offer you… an alternative."

Raelle sat, her dream-body moving without the pain or fever. "What kind of alternative?"

"I can eat you," Sage said bluntly. "Body and soul. Completely. You'll cease to exist as Raelle Knight. But—" She held up a clawed paw. "—I can keep your soul intact. Preserved. Part of my collective. You'll live on through me, experience everything I experience, be part of something bigger. Exist in this Yesterweave forever, entwined with me and all of my fox besties."

"That's..." Raelle struggled to process the words of the Skinwalker. "That’s fucked up.”

"Yep!" Sage grinned, showing sharp white teeth. "Completely batshit. Also not what I'm supposed to do. Skinwalkers are supposed to dissolve the souls they eat. Integrate them. Make them part of ourselves. But I don't. I keep them alive. All of them. I'm this weave." Her grin faded slightly. "I've got over four thousand fox souls in here, and they're all still themselves. Still thinking their fox thoughts. Enjoying their fox lives. Singing their fox songs."

Raelle stared at the odd fox-creature. "Why?"

"Because dissolving them feels like murder," Sage said simply. "I couldn't... I couldn't just erase, end them. So I kept them. And now I'm offering you the same choice."

"What happens if I say no?"

"I leave. You’ll die. Your parents will mourn. Your friends will post sad things on social media. Your art supplies will get donated somewhere. Life goes on." Sage sighed. "Your consciousness, everything that makes you YOU… Will dissolve into the Astral."

“D-disolve?!” Raelle sputtered. 

“Or get pulled to Arx,” Sage shrugged. “That could happen too. Maybe. Trust me, you don’t want to go to Arx. It's a fucked up place. Kind of like… hell.”

“So there’s no heaven?”

“Not really,” Sage shrugged. “But… I can offer you a heaven-like life here. In this unending fox-dream.”

Raelle looked around the sunlit clearing. Birds sang in the trees. A deer grazed in the distance. Everything was peaceful. Beautiful.

"So… if I say yes?"

"You'll live forever," Sage said. "Sort of. Through me. You'll see things no human has ever seen. Do things no human has ever done. You'll experience being a fox—thousands of foxes, actually. You'll remember all of their lives and my entire life as a Skinwalker. You'll make art in ways you never imagined. Magic. You’ll be able to do magic as… me.”

"But I won't be human anymore. I’ll be… You?"

"Yeh," Sage agreed. "You won't be human. You’ll be me. You'll be part of something stranger. Weirder. But also kind of beautiful, if you can handle the existential vertigo."

“How do you know that I like art…”

“This is your final dream,” Sage said. “I am in your head. Your soul is already coming apart, leaking your dreams, your needs, your wishes.”

“Foxes? You said I’ll be… foxes?”

As if summoned by their conversation, the forest around them began to move.

Foxes emerged from between the trees.

Hundreds of them. Then thousands. Red foxes and arctic foxes, gray foxes, foxes that looked ancient and wise, foxes that bounced with kit-like energy. All of them converged on the clearing, surrounding Raelle with warm bodies and curious eyes.

An old vixen padded up to Raelle and pressed her nose against the human's hand. The touch felt real, warm, alive. More foxes followed—nuzzling her legs, her arms, her face. They made soft chirping sounds, playful yips, contented huffs.

One particularly bold kit climbed into her lap and curled up, purring like a cat.

Raelle felt tears streaming down her face. "They're… beautiful."

"They're real," Sage said softly. "Every single one. Preserved. Alive. Happy. This is what I'm offering you—not oblivion, but this. Community. Family. A chorus of voices that will never leave you alone because will never let you disappear, hold you in their embrace in this weave."

A young fox with a torn ear approached Sage and rubbed against her leg. The Skinwalker reached down and scratched behind his ears.

"This is the Gage," Sage introduced. “My cleverest fox friend. I named them all.”

She gestured to an arctic fox sitting regally nearby. "That's the Wanderer. Survived six winters in Alaska until a bear struck her down."

More foxes pressed close to Raelle, Sage introducing them one by one. A steppe runner who'd crossed grasslands. A coastal scavenger who'd mastered cracking shellfish. A den-mother who'd raised seventeen litters. A young hunter who'd died with prey in his jaws.

Raelle buried her face in the soft fur surrounding her, breathing in the scent of forest and wild and freedom.

"Will it hurt?" she asked.

"The eating? Nah. You're already, like, ninety percent dead—the magic collar I'm going to use will bind your soul to your body just long enough for me to consume both properly. Then it'll be over, and you'll wake up here once again." Sage gestured at the forest clearing, at the thousands of foxes milling about. "In my heart. In the Fox Sea. With four thousand foxes to keep you company."

"Four thousand and one," Raelle corrected quietly, hugging the kit in her lap.

Sage's vulpine blue eyes widened. "So you’ll—"

"I don't want to die alone," Raelle said. "I don't want to disappear into nothing. And if you're offering me a chance to keep loving animals, keep making art, keep existing in some form..." She looked around at the foxes, all of them watching her with intelligent, understanding eyes. "How could I say no to this? To them? To you?"

The foxes erupted in joyful yips and chirps, tails wagging, bodies bouncing with excitement.

Sage padded forward and pressed her snout gently against Raelle's forehead. It was warm and soft and real.

"Thank you," the Skinwalker whispered. "For trusting me. For choosing this. I promise I'll take care of you. Of your soul. Of everything you were and everything you wanted to be. You and I will carry out our dreams. All of them. I promise.”

The dreamspace began to fade. The foxes didn't disappear—they ran alongside Raelle's fading consciousness, yipping encouragement, promising she'd see them again soon.

"See you on the other side," Sage said.

"See you," Raelle whispered, reaching out to touch one last fox as the dream came apart into a billion radiant sparks.

. . .

Something snapped over her neck. A warm spark of life that pulled her from the fevered oblivion.

Raelle opened her eyes weakly.

She was back in the hospital room, looking at her own failing body through dry eyes.

The last thing she saw was a massive fox-creature standing over her, colorful artifacts glittering in the darkness, reaching down to her.

“Sleep,” she whispered, claws igniting in surreal colors. “When you wake up we’ll be together, entwined for all eternity.”

And Raelle’s eyes closed.

. . .

The forest had been quiet that night.

Sage quickly carried Raelle to a clearing she knew well—isolated, protected, surrounded by old growth that had seen much life and death.

By the time they arrived, Raelle had been maybe five percent alive. Her heart barely beating. Her lungs full of fluid. Only the artifact collar kept her soul tethered to her failing organic shell.

"Goodbye, Raelle Knight," she whispered. "Hello, sister."

Then she shifted fully into her bony, monstrous self and bit down spraying blood across the snow-covered ground.

The memories Sage retained weren't Raelle's memories of being eaten—they were Sage's memories OF eating Raelle.

The taste of dying flesh and warm blood.

The sensation of her Skinwalker metabolism breaking down consumed tissues, claiming them, converting them to fuel and power.

And then her soul snapped from the collar and she became one with Sanguine.

I can hear them, she thought, her soul surrounded by a storm of Foxness. All of them. Every story. Every hunt. Every den and every kit and every—

Yes, Sage answered. Welcome to the skulk.

In the present moment, in Galateya's warm embrace, the skulk voices sang in harmony:

PACK-SISTER! NEW FRIEND!

Raelle felt happy as the Sangune-her let go of Galateya in the physical.

Galateya—dragon girl raised in isolation, forced into bonds she didn't choose, struggling to define herself outside her family's expectations—understood exactly what it meant to become something you never asked to be.

And still choose to keep going anyway.

And choose, moreover, to make it beautiful.

She listened to Galateya’s words about the danger of the Frontenachii. She smiled as Galateya promised to protect her, to protect all of them.

"Hey," Galateya's voice snapped Sage back to the present. "You okay? You kind of zoned out there."

Sage smiled. "Yeah. Just... My foxes got excited. They like you. We like you."

"All nine thousand of them?"

“More like fourteen thousand at this point,” Sage shrugged. “Plus one human girl. Raelle Knight. My human ever-beating heart.”

“What’s she like?”

“You can meet her after the hunt,” Sage smiled.

108: The Hunt

The forest smelled like pine, damp earth, excitement and possibility.

Galateya swung her paintball rifle over her shoulder as Sage led them into the treeline. The Skinwalker moved with supreme confidence, her digitigrade legs silently carrying her over roots and rocks. Her red tail swished back and forth, occasionally brushing against ferns and low-hanging branches.

"So," Sage said conversationally, not breaking stride, "your boy's got a bit of a lead on us."

"He's not 'my boy,'" Galateya muttered. Her own digitigrade stance made the terrain easier than it would have been for a human, but Sage moved like she was born to this. Which, given the absurd numbers of fox souls, she probably was.

"Sure, sure. Not your boy. Just your blood-bound consort who you definitely don't have feelings for." Sage's freckles rearranged into little eye-roll emojis. "Teya, babe, you gotta work on your denial game. It's very transparent."

I'm not in denial. I'm... Urm… Accurately describing the situation."

"Mmm-hmm." Sage paused, crouching low. Her nose twitched, processing scents. "Oh, interesting."

"What?"

“His path is curving back to the parking lot,” Sage said. “Drrrr. I’m going to be mad if he broke one of my rules and decided to use his car to escape us.”

. . .

They emerged from the treeline back at the parking lot fifteen minutes later. Sage's nose immediately went to the concrete and she spun about in circles.

"Okay, so he didn't take the Jeep," the Skinwalker said. "Good boy. Following the rules. Heading back to the forest. But then—"

She stopped dead.

Her entire body went rigid. Ears rotating. Tail stiff. Nose working overtime as she spiralled in one spot, eyes wide.

"What?" Galateya asked, moving closer.

"He... what the actual fuck?" Sage's voice climbed an octave. "This is—this is bullshit!"

"What is it?"

The Skinwalker looked up. There was a spark of offended professional pride, Galateya noted. "His trail doesn't just split, Teya. It EXPLODES. There are—" She moved rapidly between different points, nose working frantically. "—ten? Yeah, definitely ten. TEN separate Ash-trails radiating out from this parking lot!"

"Ten?" Galateya sputtered. "How is that even possible?"

"I don't know!" Sage threw up her hands. "This shouldn't work! This is—" She sniffed again, her expression shifting from shock to frustration. "Oh you clever bastard. Oh you CLEVER BASTARD!"

"What? Can you tell which one is real?"

Sage moved systematically around the parking lot, sniffing furiously. Finally, she stood up and looked at Galateya with an expression of grudging respect.

"I can't tell," she admitted. "Hecking clever human. He's figured out how to fuck with my scent tracking."

"Explain," Galateya commanded.

“He’s used the greatest power of all,” Sage complained. “Power which I don’t have.”

“Which is?” the dragon asked.

“Friends,” Sage huffed. “He has ten friends helping him. Damnation. I should have made a rule about it. Ah well. Guess, I’ll have to use greater Sherlocking for this one!”

“What are the trails?” Galateya asked.

Sage hopped to the line of the forest and pointed to a trail heading northwest. "Trail one! This one I know for sure. Female wolf. Arousal pheromones to the brim—like she's ready to climb the nearest tree. Plus alcohol and Ash’s scent mixed in. The imprints in the ground are that of a pradavarian… wolf walking upright."

"That's probably Linari," Galateya guessed. "She’s most likely wearing something with Ash's scent on it."

"Right. And here's the problem—" Sage's tail lashed up. "—I can't tell if she's just wearing his clothes or if she's actually CARRYING him. For all we know, your boyfriend is on her back right now."

Galateya's mane turned blue-gray. "Wah.”

"Yeah." Sage moved to another trail heading southwest. "Aight. Trail two! This one is a bird. Female pradavarian, magpie specifically. With Ash’s human scent layered on top."

"Kawathra," Galateya identified. "The Datamancer."

"And guess what?" Sage's freckles rearranged into 😣 emoticons. "Same problem. I can't tell if she is wearing his clothes or if she's literally carrying Ash in her arms."

"So we can't rule out either Linari or Kawathra as the actual target," Galateya summarized.

"Nope!" Sage moved to the next trail heading due east. "And it gets worse! This one going East? Pure human male. But there are TWO different male scents mixed together. Ash and another human male. Could be Ash’s friend wearing his clothes or Ash wearing his friend’s clothes. Can't tell. The boot pattern doesn’t match that of Ash though. Hmmm… smells like he's been with two prad girls. The bird and wolf. Has their sex pheromones all over him. Ke ke ke." 

Galateya pursed her lips. “That's Piotr.”

"How many friends does your boyfriend even HAVE?" Sage complained.

"At least four humans that I know of," Galateya sighed. "Dax, his best friend from college. North and South who… Hrm. I’ve no idea how he met them, only that he’s giving the two girls a room to stay in. Then there's Piotr, a Polish man who’s dating Kawathra and Linari."

"BOTH?" Sage's ears perked up. "Like, at the same time?"

"Yes," Galateya muttered. "They had a… sharing schedule fight. Commander Xandria had to mediate. If Ash asked his human friends and prad friends to participate in the hunt, then his two… girlfriends Commander Xandria and Marshal Nexxali should be here too." Galateya's expression soured slightly.

"Your household is WILD," Sage laughed, moving to the other trails. "Okay, this one's real weird. Smells like... magitek? Crystalloid neural substrate? But also organic components. And Ash's scent layered on top. The footprints are—" She crouched lower. "—digitigrade. Pradavarian pattern but the depth is wrong. And the spacing is... off." 

"That doesn't match anyone I know," Galateya frowned.

"It's something like Ash," Sage said. “Something organic and magitek. Female I think. Smells very new. A modded prad girl maybe?”

"Hrm. Maybe Kawathra made something new?" Galateya speculated. "She's been doing a lot of mystery fabrication work lately."

"Noted. Mystery robot girl added to the suspect list." Sage bounded to the next trail heading southeast. "Oh, this one's definitely a gun unit. Pure magitek signature, no organics. Six-legged stance from the impressions—spider configuration. Plus Ash's scent. Plus… smells like it's been with the wolf a lot." 

"That's Etty," Galateya said. "Linari's symbiote weapon."

"Your boyfriend weaponized his friend's girlfriend's gun," Sage chortled. "Dat's either tactical genius or the most elaborate game of relationship telephone I've ever seen."

"He's NOT my—"

"Moving on!" Sage chirped, hopping to the trail heading west. "Okay, this one's... peculiar."

"How?"

Sage pointed at the footprints. "Humanoid feet. Barefoot. But not actual bare feet—the impressions are too uniform, too smooth. Like someone wearing a really thin latex suit."

"Barefoot in the forest?" Galateya stepped closer to examine the tracks. "That seems... impractical for a human."

"Right? Look at the stride too." Sage traced the pattern with her claw. "Long. Confident. This person isn't hobbling over rocks and roots like a normal barefoot human would. They're BOUNDING. Like they've got enhanced grip or something. The scent is magitek frame, organic components, and human male. Basically gun unit with organic smell and Ash’s smell. Could be Ash but without boots and using his magitek frame to bounce around."

Galateya sighed.

Sage examined another trail. “Another magitek-organic hybrid. Human male scent with Ash mixed in. But the footprints—" She crouched. "—are HUGE. Like, big-person huge. Heavy armored boots from the depth. This thing is STOMPING through the forest, breaking bushes in his way. Male scent. Huge dude. Bigger than gigachad Ash."

“Could be Ash but in different boots?”

"Yeah." Sage's tail lashed. "Your consort apparently has access to a small army of weird cyborg constructs."

Galateya let out a huff. “This is cheating.”

"Nah, it's thinking outside the box,” Sage bobbed excitedly. "Freaking clever boy. Let's see what trail eight is—" She inhaled. “A magitek frame. Organic too. Two human male scents mixed together, just like some of the others. But—"

"But what?"

"The footprints." Sage crouched, studying the boot imprints intently. "Different boots. Could be Ash wearing another person’s boots."

"Slayer damn it,” Galateya exhaled.

“Trail nine!” Sage stated. “Female. Shorter. Smaller boots. Definitely not Ash. Some human woman wearing his clothes.”

Galateya nodded.

“Trail ten,” Sage declared, moving on. “Human. Smells like Ash and another human male. Wearing Ash's boots. Either this is Ash or someone wearing Ash's boots. Ah, wait. This male human spent the last thirty minutes in the company of the prad girl in magitek frame from trail four!”

“So that can't be Ash,” Galateya said. “Just someone wearing his shoes?”

“Yep,” Sage grinned. “They traded boots.”

“Who traded boots?”

“The person from trail eight and this person who’s been hanging out with the metal prad girl.”

“By that logic trail eight could be Ash.”

“Could be,” Sage laughed dramatically. “Your boyfriend is a MENACE. An absolute MENACE to fox-kind everywhere!"

Galateya squinted at the fox.

"He's out-foxed the fox!" Sage continued, ignoring her. "Do you understand how INSULTING that is? I have a Sea of Fox souls in here!" She tapped her chest dramatically. "Forty thousand years of accumulated hunting wisdom! Generations of vulpine cunning! The distilled essence of hunters! And he just—" She made an explosive gesture with her hands. "—BOOM! Trail explosion! Tactical friendship deployment!"

Galateya couldn't help the small smile tugging at her lips. "So what do we do?"

"We VOTE!" Sage announced.

"Vote?"

"Yeah! Democratic process!" Sage closed her eyes, her expression going distant. "Okay, foxes. Emergency council meeting. Which trail do we take? Show of paws."

Galateya watched as the Skinwalker stood perfectly still for several seconds, her ears twitching occasionally, her tail swishing in what seemed like random patterns.

"Okay," Sage said finally, opening her eyes. "The results are in. It's a shitshow."

"What?"

"Four thousand foxes voted for trail one because they smelled arousal pheromones and want to investigate that situation further, hang out with a drunk wolf and make friends. Three thousand voted for trail eight because the boots switch is a potential target. Two thousand are voting for trail four because they're curious about the mystery half-robot girl. Another two thousand want to follow trail seven because BIG STOMPY BOOTS sound fun to chase. The remaining are arguing amongst themselves about whether we should just give up and go get snacks."

"Your internal democracy is a mess," Galateya stated.

"All democracies are messes!" Sage defended. "Mine is fluffiest and cutest though. Every fox gets equal voting rights! That's the problem with having fourteen thousand constituents—nobody can agree on anything!" She paused. "Wait, one of the elder vixens just called for a recount. She's saying trail six looks suspicious because barefoot running seems like exactly the kind of crazy thing Ash would do."

"Is she right?"

"How the FUCK would I know?!" Sage threw up her hands. "I've known your boyfriend for like an hour! Well, technically I met him a year ago but that was pre-relationship so it doesn't count!"

"He's not—"

"Oh my GOD, Teya, we've established this already!" Sage grabbed Galateya's shoulders. "You're into him! He's into you! Everyone KNOWS! Even my foxes know and they're FOXES! They have fox brains! If a fox can figure out your feelings, you need to just ACCEPT them already!"

Galateya's scales flushed pink. "That's not—this is tactical analysis, not relationship counseling!"

"It's BOTH!" Sage released her and spun in a circle, arms spread wide. "Everything's relationship counseling when you're hunting your crush through a forest! That's the POINT! The journey is the destination! The hunt is the therapy!"

"You're not helping."

"Shush! I'm helping TREMENDOUSLY!" Sage countered. "I'm teaching you valuable lessons about accepting your feelings while simultaneously being completely useless at tracking because your boyfriend out-smarted me with the power of friendship!" She flopped dramatically onto a nearby log. "This is humiliating. I'm a master hunter. I should be able to—" She sniffed the air again. "Wait."

"What?"

Sage's ears rotated like satellite dishes. "I'm getting something. Hold on." She closed her eyes, nose working. "Okay, so, interesting development. Most of these trails—they're all heading in generally the same direction. Northeast toward Lake Crescent."

"And?"

"And Lake Crescent is where you'd go if you wanted to mess with a fox's tracking by using water." Sage opened her eyes, a competitive gleam in them. "Your boy read up on fox hunting tactics, didn't he?"

"Probably," Galateya admitted. “He does carry a thick tablet with him, looking stuff up constantly, buried in some chats.”

"Sexy AND studious!" Sage bounced back to her feet. "Okay, here's my professional assessment: most of these are bait. He WANTS us to think he's heading for the lake because that's the obvious tactical choice. Classic misdirection."

"So we should follow one of the other trails?"

"No no no!" Sage wagged a finger. "That's what he'd EXPECT us to think! 'Oh, she'll see through my obvious misdirection, so I'll actually DO the obvious thing!' But WE'LL see through HIS seeing through OUR seeing through!"

"That's circular logic."

"ADVANCED circular logic!" Sage bobbed. "There's a difference! I'm fox-logicking this out! Fox logic is superior to normal logic because it accounts for the fact that everyone KNOWS foxes are clever, so you have to be extra-clever to out-clever the people who expect you to be clever!"

"What? Your rant-ery is making me dizzy.”

"Good! That means it's working!" Sage grabbed her hand. "Come on! We're following trail eight because that's the one with the boot-swap which means Ash was definitely there and wearing someone else's shoes now!"

"Are you sure?”

"My gut says so! And I have fourteen thousand fox guts! That's a lot of gut instinct!"

Galateya let herself be pulled into the forest. "This is the worst hunting strategy I've ever heard."

"That's because you've never hunted with a fox-girl who's having the time of her life!" Sage's tail swished excitedly, smacking the dragon girl. "Teya, this is AMAZING! Your boyfriend made me work for it! Do you know how rare that is? Usually I just follow the scent trail of a dying fox, boom, done, got ‘em. But THIS?!" She gestured at the maze of diverging paths. "This is ENRICHMENT! This is the fox equivalent of one of those puzzle feeders they give to zoo animals!"

"I'm glad my relationship drama is mentally stimulating for you," Galateya said dryly.

"See? You called it a relationship!" Sage pointed triumphantly. "Progress! Character development! We love to see it!"

“We?”

“The itty bitty foxy committee," Sage wiggled.

They rapidly moved into the forest, following trail eight. The undergrowth grew denser, pine needles crunching beneath their feet. 

Sage crouched low, her body in full ‘pro hunter mode’.

"Did you think of what to ask him?"

"I don't know yet."

"Liar." Sage glanced back at her. "You've been thinking about it this whole time. I can smell the anxiety coming off you in waves."

Galateya's tail curled. "Fine. I... I want to ask if he actually wants me around. Or if I'm just another obligation. Another chess piece in whatever game he's playing with my great-grandmother."

"A solid question.”

"Is it?"

“Not 'do you like me' or 'am I pretty, but 'do you actually want me in your life or am I just convenient.'"

"Yeah," Galateya said quietly. "Because if I'm just... convenient... then maybe I should—"

"Nu! Don't finish that sentence," Sage interrupted. "Because we both know you're not going anywhere. You're blood-bound. But more than that—" She spun around and poked Galateya's chest, right over her heart. "—you don't WANT to go anywhere. You want him to want you to stay. There's a difference."

"Hrm. Insightful."

"Vast fox-ness!" Sage stated. "Some of them were very wise. Also I watch a LOT of YouTube relationship advice videos. Did you know there's this whole genre of content about attachment styles? FASCINATING stuff. You're definitely anxious-attachment, by the way."

"I am not—"

"Totally are!" Sage bounced ahead, back on the trail. "But that's okay! It's normal given your childhood in a time bubble! Nothing wrong with wanting reassurance! The key is asking for it in healthy ways instead of, you know—" Her red tail swayed. "—freezing your Keiy gun unit because you were having feelings."

"I didn't freeze her because I was having feelings," Galateya protested. "I froze everything because I was overwhelmed."

"Feelings are overwhelming! That's their whole deal! They're supposed to be overwhelming! Otherwise they wouldn't be feelings, they'd just be... I dunno, mild opinions?"

"That's not how that works."

"Says you!" Sage hopped over a fallen log. "I've an ocean of souls in me! I experience emotions in SURROUND SOUND. Every feeling gets amplified fourteen thousand times! So trust me when I say—feelings are SUPPOSED to be overwhelming!"

Galateya followed, leaping over the log. "How do you deal with it? The amplification?"

"Honestly?" Sage glanced back. "I don't, usually. I just... let it wash over me. Ride the wave. The variety of foxes help—the overall skulk distributes the emotional weight. No single fox has to carry it all."

They ran in companionable silence for a few minutes, following the trail as it wound between the trees. 

Then Sage stopped dead.

"What?" Galateya whispered.

"Shh." The Skinwalker's ears rotated forward. "I hear something. His voice. Ah! Ka-paw!”

The fox girl spun through the air and fired her rifle, unleashing paintballs with a giddy expression.

“Aw,” she whined, a frown sliding across her face. “Dang it. Outwitted again.”

Galateya caught up. 

Ahead of them in a clearing, Ash sat on a log.

“Hello ladies,” he said with a wide smile of an over-sized chin. “Looks like you’ve found the right trail out of ten. Excellent work!”

109: Personal Rain

Galateya raised her rifle.

"Don't bother," Sage commented. "He's a fake.”

"What?" Galateya's rifle stayed aimed at the figure on the log.

"Look at his head," Sage pointed with her free hand. "The edges are too sharp and there's this slight shimmer. Also, the paintballs went right through him. Faaake hologram is fake!”

Galateya lowered her rifle, squinting. Now that Sage mentioned it, there was something off about the image. A slight off-color translucency around the edges. The trees behind Ash were thoroughly painted with Sage’s exploded paintballs.

The holographic Ash clapped his hands together. "Ten points to House Sanguine!’

"Where are you?" Galateya demanded, cautiously walking closer to the hologram.

"Wouldn't you like to know," the projection grinned. "Could be anywhere. Could be watching you right now from behind a tree. Could be halfway to Canada."

"You're not halfway to Canada," Sage said. "Using vehicles is cheating. The trail’s footprints are heading northeast toward the lake. You're probably wet by now."

"Am I?" The hologram tilted his head. "Or did I want you to THINK I'm heading to the lake while I'm actually doubling back to the parking lot again? Do I look like I'm underwater?"

"No. You look like you're enjoying fresh air." Galateya stated. 

"Or maybe I never went anywhere. Did you check the Jeep’s trunk?" Ash asked innocently. "Did you check UNDER the car? Did you check if maybe I programmed it to drive itself to a secondary location?"

"Can your Jeep drive itself?" Sage asked.

"No," the hologram admitted. "But now you're going to wonder about it, aren't you? Maybe I asked one of my friends to drive me?” 

Galateya's tail lashed in frustration. "Trickery."

"Nah, Teya, it's called having fun!" The hologram spread his arms. "You two have been running around for what, forty minutes now? You must be getting hungry. Thirsty. Maybe a little tired?"

"I'm a Skinwalker," Sage declared. "I don't GET tired."

"And I'm a Taniwha," Galateya added. "Stamina is literally part of my physiology."

"Yes, yes, you're lovely superhuman critters." The hologram nodded sagely. "But here's the thing—do you ENJOY being hungry and thirsty? Because I took the liberty of having something delivered for you both."

"Delivered?" Galateya repeated skeptically. "To the middle of the forest?"

"Mhmm. Check behind the log," Ash's hologram suggested, gesturing with his hand. "My treat. Consider it a peace offering. Or a taunt. Whichever motivates you more."

Sage and Galateya exchanged glances.

"It's definitely a trap," Galateya said.

"Oh, one hundred percent a trap," Sage agreed. "But I'm curious now. Like, VERY curious. My foxes are voting ninety-one percent in favor of checking what's behind the log."

"Your foxes have terrible survival instincts."

"Curiosity is a valid survival strategy!” Sage defended. “…Sometimes."

They approached the log carefully, rifles raised. The holographic Ash watched them with an amused expression, the massive gigachad chin making the grin even more tauntingly annoying.

Behind the log sat an ice box with a small card taped to the top.

"'To Sage and Teya,'" Galateya read aloud. "'Thought you could use a snack. Enjoy the chase! - Ash.'"

"Aww," Sage cooed, kicking the icebox open with a foot to discover a bento box. "He got us a care package! That's so sweet!”

“Probably poisoned." Teya muttered.

"It's not poisoned," the hologram protested. "I would never poison you! That would be unsportsmanlike! Also you're Omnids, our mundane poisons don't work on you. Shady ate pancakes from the 1960s and didn't even flinch."

"Then what IS it?" Galateya demanded, eyeing the box suspiciously.

"Sushi!" The hologram beamed. "Fresh from Cascade Sushi Bar. Got you the deluxe bento—california rolls, salmon nigiri, spicy tuna, the works. Also beers!"

Sage's stomach growled audibly.

"See?" Ash's hologram pointed at her. "Your belly demands noms!"

"The noms can wait," Sage muttered, eyes remained locked on the bento box. "This is mega sus. Why would you feed your hunters?"

"Because I'm a gentleman?" The hologram suggested. "Who  respects worthy opponents? Also, you two should probably eat something before you get hangry and this whole fun activity devolves into actual me-murder?"

Galateya knelt beside the box, examining it from all angles. "It looks normal."

"Of course it looks normal!" Sage crouched beside her. "That's what makes it suspicious! If it looked OBVIOUSLY booby-trapped, that would be less concerning!"

"You two are overthinking this," the hologram said. "It's just food. Nice, delicious, totally not-at-all-suspicious food."

"The fact that you're emphasizing how not-suspicious it is makes it MORE suspicious," Galateya pointed out.

"Can't win with you people," Ash's hologram sighed dramatically. "Fine. Don't eat it. Starve. See if I care. I'll just be over here, eating MY own sushi. Alone. Sadly."

He pulled out a bento box onto his lap and opened it.

Sage's nose twitched as she leaned closer to the box. "I'm not detecting any obvious chemical agents. No poison smell. No weird magitek signatures. It actually does smell like legitimate sushi."

"See?" The hologram gestured triumphantly. "I told you!"

"But," Sage continued, "that doesn't mean there's not SOMETHING in there. Could be—what if it's filled with bees?"

"Why would I fill a sushi box with bees?!" The hologram looked offended. "What kind of monster do you think I am?!"

"The kind who created ten false trails is using a hologram to taunt us!" Galateya shot back.

"That's just tactical thinking! Bee-bombing is a war crime!"

"Is it?" Sage tilted her head. "I don't think the Geneva Convention covers forest paintball hunts."

"It SHOULD!" The hologram insisted.

Galateya reached for the box. "I'm opening it."

"Wait!" Sage grabbed her wrist. "Let ME open it. I've got way more souls than you. If something explodes, I can distribute the trauma across my artifacts and fourteen thousand foxes. You'd just have to deal with it solo."

"That's... considerate," Galateya admitted. "Thank you."

"Plus," Sage added, "if it IS bees, I can probably eat them. Foxes eat bees sometimes. Not recommended, but doable in an emergency."

"There are NO BEES!" The hologram shouted. “You would hear them buzzing loudly!”

"That's EXACTLY what someone who filled a box with bees would say!" Sage countered with a barely concealed grin.

She released Galateya's wrist and carefully, slowly, reached for the bento box. Her clawed fingers hovered over the lid.

"Here goes nothing," she muttered.

"Or everything," Galateya added ominously.

"You two are SO dramatic," the hologram commented.

Sage lifted the lid.

For a moment, nothing happened.

"Huh," Sage said, blinking. "It's actually just—"

The top compartment exploded upward with enough force to send its contents spraying into the air in a magnificent cascading fountain.

Glitter.

So much glitter.

Pink glitter. Blue glitter. Gold glitter. Silver glitter. Holographic glitter that caught the dappled forest sunlight and refracted it into a thousand tiny rainbows. The glitter cloud expanded outward like a sparkly supernova, coating everything within a three-foot radius.

Which included both Sage and Galateya, who were leaning over the box.

"PFFTTT—" Sage sputtered, trying to spit out glitter. "PFFTTFFTTT—"

Galateya recoiled, scales immediately shifting to match the colors of the glitter stuck to her. Her mane erupted with flowers that sparkled with residual glitter dust. She looked like a demented disco ball.

"WHAT THE FUCK—" she started.

"Such sweary!" The hologram chided. "There might be children in the forest!"

"THERE ARE NO CHILDREN IN THE FOREST!" Galateya roared, looking thoroughly bedazzled.

Sage had gotten the worst of it. Her red fur was absolutely coated. The glitter stuck to every surface—her clothes, face, ears, mane, chest and tail. She looked like someone had dunked a fox in a craft store explosion.

She tried to shake it off. The glitter didn't budge.

She tried to brush it off. The glitter spread to her hands.

She tried to Phase-shift it away. The glitter somehow remained, now appearing on her fleshy-skeletal form.

"WHY WON'T IT COME OFF?!" Sage shrieked.

"Craft glitter!" The hologram announced proudly. "Sticks to everything! Absolutely everything! And it's environmentally friendly, so you can't even feel bad about it! Well, you can feel bad about being COVERED in it, but not about harming the forest!"

Galateya tried to wipe her face. This only succeeded in spreading more glitter across her snout and into her eyes. "You BASTARD!"

"Aww, come on!" Ash's hologram grinned wider. "You both look ADORABLE! Very sparkly! Very festive! Like you're ready for a rave!"

"I'M GOING TO MURDER YOU!" Galateya bellowed, raising her paintball rifle.

She fired.

The paintball passed straight through the hologram and splattered against a tree behind it.

"Can't murder a hologram!" The projection sing-songed. "Nice try though! Really committed to that shot!"

Sage was frantically trying to get glitter out of her ears. "How did you even—when did you—the sushi is REAL! I can smell it! The sushi is actually here!"

"Oh yeah, the sushi's legit," Ash confirmed. "Totally safe to eat. I really did get you the deluxe bento. The glitter bomb was just in a false compartment on top. Engineering majors, remember? Dax knows how to build stuff."

“Glitter bombs aren't what engineering degrees are for!” Sage hopped around trying and failing to unglitter herself.

"Sure it is!" The hologram argued. "Engineering is about solving problems! Your problem was that you weren't sparkly enough! I solved it! You're welcome!"

"I'm going to be finding this shit in my fur for WEEKS." Sage whined.

"Probably months," the hologram stated. "That's quality glitter. Really gets into everything. Your pillows, your clothes, your hopes, your dreams—"

“You!” Galateya roared.

"Me!” Ash laughed. “Okay, you can enjoy your sushi now.”

Sage sneezed and looked at the bento box. Then at Galateya. Then back at the box.

"I want the sushi," she admitted. 

“There could be more traps!" Galateya warned.

"But," Sage whined, "it smells yummy! And I'm already covered in glitter! What's the worst that could happen?!"

"LITERALLY ANYTHING!" Galateya gestured wildly, sending sparkling bits flying. "He could have rigged it with hot sauce! Or—or—I don't know, tiny firecrackers!"

"Those all sound way less annoying than glitter," Sage pointed out. "At least hot sauce washes off."

The hologram was watching this exchange with obvious delight. "I promise, the sushi is safe now."

"Why would we trust you?!" Galateya demanded. 

"Yeah! You just GLITTER BOMBED us!" Sage laughed. “That's like the worst kinda craft crime!”

"Com on. Part of the fun is watching you struggle with the choice of eating potentially-but-probably-not-booby-trapped sushi,” Ash said.

Sage and Galateya stared at each other, both absolutely covered in sparkles.

"The sushi is totally fine," the hologram said. "I swear on my engineering degree. There are no more surprises in that box. Just food. Really good food that I paid eighty-three dollars for because I wanted you two to have a nice lunch. Deluxe bento for a family!”

Sage looked at Galateya. Galateya looked at Sage.

Then they broke out in laughter.

Galateya's mane ignited with water, washing the sparkly glitter away.

“Yass, rinse me too,” Sage stepped forward and hugged Teya. “Mmmm… you're like a personal shower.”

Galateya blushed at the comment as the fox pawed her all over. A small raincloud formed above the pair, the rain puttering across their figures.

Sage giggled and then suddenly leaned in and kissed Galateya. 

For a split second, the dragon considered pulling away, but then melted into the kiss, the rain casting rainbows across the forest clearing.

“Oh wow,” Ash commented, nearly dropping his Philadelphia roll. “You two are absolutely…”

Galateya wasn’t listening. She was drowning in the kiss.

She'd read about kisses. Thousands of them across a multitude of romance novels she'd devoured in her time bubble life. The protagonists always described them with breathless prose—"like fireworks," "like coming home," "like the world stopped spinning."

But reading about a kiss and experiencing one were completely different things.

Sage's lips were warm. Soft. They moved against Galateya's with gentle insistence, coaxing rather than demanding. The Skinwalker's mouth tasted faintly of fox. No, foxes. So many foxes. Wild wind on fur and earthy grass scents.

Galateya's first instinct was to freeze. To analyze. To categorize this new sensory input and file it away in the proper mental compartment. To judge it…

And yet she responded with a kiss of her own.

The rain started falling stronger, washing away the glitter, and somehow that made everything sharper. More real. Water droplets caught on her scales, on Sage's fur, creating an unexpected liminal space between them that felt private, homely, unexpected and… infinite.

Sage's hands were on Galateya's face, claws gently tracing the line of her jaw. Like she was something precious. 

And suddenly, Galateya wasn't just feeling the physical kiss.

She was experiencing every wonderful moment of her life simultaneously, falling through herself.

The day she'd received the Slayer's Sword necklace from her great-grandmother and felt like someone actually gave a damn about her.

The day she'd emerged from the time bubble, happy to be out of the damned five rooms for the first time in over twenty years.

The day she’d escaped from the Slayer’s Sword warship and saw the open sky for the first time, felt the wind on her face as she flew on Keiy-glider across the edge of the Pacific Rim, clouds above and mountains below.

The world had been so much bigger than she'd imagined. So much more colorful. So much more alive.

That moment felt like drowning in possibility.

The first time she'd finished a book. She'd devoured it in one sitting, barely breathing, completely absorbed in the story of a human woman and a cursed Skinwalker Lord who couldn't be together but found a way anyway.

When she'd reached the final page, when the protagonists had finally confessed their love and embraced having overcome all the terrible obstacles, Galateya had cried. Not from sadness. From the sheer relief of knowing that stories could have happy endings. That love could win. That two people could choose each other and find liberty together as one.

That moment felt like discovering hope existed.

The kiss felt like that, but more.

All of these moments, multiplied together. Exponentially amplified. Like someone had taken every good feeling Galateya had ever experienced, compressed them into a single point, and then exploded them outward in a cascade of sensation and emotion that threatened to set her alight.

Her scales shifted through colors she didn't have names for. Her mane erupted with wild flowers, hybrid blooms that diffused and combined species and textures in unexpected ways.

Reality wobbled. 

Then violet fireworks exploded in her head, radiating outwards like falling stars stretching across infinity. 

What in Slayer’s name? She thought staring across the suddenly revealed endless constellations. What is… this? Some kind of trickery? Sage’s Skinwalker skill trying to seduce me?!

Becoming concerned about potential Charmchain manipulation, she swung her metaphysical Truth sword across the endless expanse of violet stars and felt… Serendipity. 

Herself.

Herself times a hundred, times a thousand, times a billion, times infinity. Nothing but herself. Endless variations of herself reaching out towards each other across the infinite divide with metaphysical hands.

Then the edge of the Truth sword clipped something much closer than the endless expanse.

Absolute want. 

Foxness. Fourteen thousand fox souls humming in harmony, all of them contributing to this single moment of connection. Then the human soul at Sage's core—Raelle Knight—reaching out with desperate hope that this was real, that Teya was someone who could understand and protect their skulk against the Frontenachii Wendigo monsters who came from the sky to dominate the Earth.

And underneath all of that as the sword struck her own soul, Galateya felt a simple, absolute truth: Sage wanted to kiss her. 

Not Knight Galateya. Not the Legate's great-granddaughter. Not a useful political piece. Just... her. The awkward dragon girl who'd spent her entire existence feeling like she was a worthless, unloved waif.

Sage wanted her.

Galateya's hands moved of their own accord, wrapping around Sage's waist, pulling the Skinwalker closer. The rain intensified, became warm, forming a curtain around them, and Galateya realized she innately was doing that. Her Phase-shift responding to emotion, creating this private curtain of sparkling water and warmth and safety.

When they finally pulled apart—seconds later? Minutes? Hours? Time had lost all meaning—Galateya was gasping. Not from lack of oxygen. From too much serendipity compressed into too small a space.

"Holy shit," Sage breathed, her pupils blown wide. "You is doin’ things. Very pretty things. Also you taste like a summer rainstorm and I am so into that."

Galateya couldn't form words. 

Her brain had short-circuited somewhere between "first kiss" and "every good moment multiplied by infinity."

"T?" Sage's expression shifted to concern. "You good? Did I break you? Please don't be broken. I really like you and I'd feel terrible if I accidentally broke your mind with a kiss.”

"I—" Galateya mewled. Then stopped. Started again. "That was my first kiss."

“...Your first kiss,” Sage let out. “Heh. M-mine too. Was it good? Please tell me it was good. If I fucked up your first kiss with excessive Skinwalker-ness I will totally shoot myself with my paintball gun and bury me in a shallow grave next to Ash’s hologram."

"It was—" Galateya struggled to find words that could encompass what she'd just experienced. The romance novels had failed to prepare her for this. All those flowery descriptions, all that breathless prose—none of it came close to capturing the reality of making out with another Omnid.

She noticed that Sage’s top had become almost transparent from the water and her brain careened into fiery explosions.

Hot steam blossomed off her in waves, rapidly drying them both. 

“...Everything,” Galateya finally let out, swaying ever so slightly. 

Light and dark textures danced across her scales like stripes, like ocean waves. 

It took her a few seconds to notice that the pine-needle covered ground below them bloomed with colorful wild flowers and pink moss cascading away from them in radial waves.