Stupid Sexy Cryptids [98-100]

98 Execution

What the fuck was I thinking? 

I was already busy taking over a Frontenachii warship in one location. Now I was agreeing to be hunted by an emotionally volatile dragon and a Skinwalker I’d just met here, down on Earth!

The only problem was that the Frontend of my mind saw her.

Galateya.

She was standing taller. Color was returning to her scales. The frozen wasteland of the Books and Nooks café around us slowly thawed. Joy and warmth replaced cold despair.

Maybe this was exactly what she needed.

Maybe this was exactly what I deserved for ignoring the poor dragon girl.

This was fine. My Backend was handling things up in Space, making sure that the Frontenachii dominion plans went tits up. The Frontend could enjoy a day of being chased. 

"Excellent!" Sage clapped her hands together. "Marya! Fin! You heard the man. I'll be off… for hunting activities! You two handle the cafe cleaning.”

“We always handle the cafe cleaning,” Fin pointed out. 

Marya looked up from where she'd been pretending to ignore us by wiping vampire juices off the counter with a cloth. "Sage, you can't just—"

"I can and I am!" Sage grabbed Galateya's hand. "Come on, dragon-waifu, let's get you geared up for the hunt!”

“Waifu?” Galateya blinked.

Sage grinned, not elaborating any further. “Say, have you ever chased someone through a forest before?"

"No," Galateya admitted. Her mane bloomed with excited orange and red lillies. "I've never... hunted anything. I got smacked around by my sisters at the Slayer’s Sword coliseum for a few days after coming out of my time bubble. It wasn’t very nice…"

"Aww. Oh, you're gonna love it," Sage promised, leading her toward the stairs. "It's soooper... primal n’ satisfying. Especially when you catch your prey and they're all sweaty and exhausted and you can just..." She made a clawing motion with her free hand. “Rip them apart and lick them all over.”

I squinted at her. She sent me a wink. The dragon and fox disappeared up the stairs, leaving me alone with Marya and Fennel.

The brother-sister duo stared at me with identical disturbed expressions.

"Dude," Fennel said finally. "What the fuck?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "What the fuck indeed."

"You just agreed to be hunted by my sister and a Taniwha dragon," Marya said flatly. "That's your plan for… relationship building?"

"It wasn't my plan," I protested. "It was Sage's plan. Honestly, I’m kind of preoccupied with… urmmmm, very important work right now. I guess I do have enough attention span to run around the forest screaming.”

"Just so you know, Sage's plans are notoriously terrible," Fennel stated. "Last time she had a 'brilliant’ idea we ended up explaining to the fire department why there was a gargantuan pentagram on fire in Mrs. Handerson's backyard framed with garden gnomes wearing Halloween witch hats and cat girl ear costumes."

"That was ONE time, bro," Sage's voice drifted down from upstairs. "And it worked, didn't it? Mrs. Handerson stopped complaining about our 'weird hours!'"

"Because she moved!" Marya called back.

"Exactly! Problem solved!" Sage yelled.

“Uh-huh. Mom grounded her for two weeks." Fennel crossed his arms. "Point is, Sage's enthusiasm often exceeds her judgment."

"Very comforting," I muttered.

Marya finished cleaning the last of the vampire residue, tossing the rag into a bucket. "Look, Ash. I don't know what kind of bullshit you've gotten yourself into, but—"

"But you're about to give me advice anyway?" I supplied.

"Damn right I am." She leaned against the counter. "That dragon girl of yours? She's hurting. Bad. And not just from today. I could smell it on her when you two walked in. Old pain. Deep loneliness. The kind that comes from years of neglect and emotional manipulation now compacted further by your… new bullshit of… having fun without her with your other partners and ignoring her needs."

I said nothing, knowing she was right.

"So if this hunt-you thing—as insane as it is—helps her feel better?" Marya continued. "Then you better run your ass off. Give her a real chase. Make her work for it. Because she needs to feel powerful right now. She needs to feel in control of something."

"I’m aware," I said.

"Do you?" Marya's brown eyes bore into me. "Because from where I'm standing, you look like someone who's playing too many games at once. And eventually, Ash, you're gonna drop one of those balls."

"Multiple balls have already been dropped," I shrugged. "I'm just trying to juggle the remaining ones without causing more catastrophic damage."

Fennel snorted. "That's the most honest thing you've said since you walked in here."

Footsteps thundered down the stairs. Sage appeared first, now completely human-shaped, wearing bodyfitting athletic gear—tight black leggings and a sports tank top. Her red curly hair was pulled back in a ponytail. The freckles on her face had rearranged into little fox paw prints leading toward her mouth.

Galateya followed, and I did a double-take.

The pink gothic lolita dress was gone.

Now, the dragon girl wore athletic gear clearly borrowed from Sage—black and pink leggings that hugged her digitigrade legs, and a bright purple tank top with "FOX-X-XY CARDIO CLUB" emblazoned across the chest in glittery letters. Below the text a drawing of Sage in her fox-humanoid form was doing a jack-o pose. Galateya’s scales had shifted to match, creating an ombre effect from deep purple at her shoulders to lighter lavenders down her arms.

Sage's new tank top read "PUSSY EATS U" in bold Comic Sans font, complete with a little cartoon fox face sticking its tongue out, eyes with heart pupils rolled up, drool dripping from the mouth.

"Really?" I stared at the shirts. "Those are your hunting outfits?"

"What?" Sage looked down at her chest. "It's motivational! Plus accurate. We are doing cardio, and I AM a fox who's gonna eat you."

"The shirts stay," Galateya said firmly, her mane now made from brilliant rubies matching Sanguine's unnaturally radiant red curls. 

“Where are you even getting these ridiculous outfits?” I asked. “Do you have a shirt printer upstairs or something?”

“Yeah, bruh,” the foxy Skinwalker said. “I’m a web-entrepreneur! Got a tshirt-press in my attic loft. Sell my own merch to my gwitch fans along with my bottled sweat.”

“Oh my god,” I chortled. “Bottled sweat? What are you, some kind of Velle Delfyne cryptid?” 

“Pfffff, Velle Delfyne ain’t got nothing on me,” Sage laughed. “I can do way better ahegao faces!”

“Really?” I repeated skeptically. 

“Yeah, homie,” she instantly made an over-the-top ahegao face to illustrate, “check this out! The ahegao face that launches a thousand dicks!”

“Sage!” Her sister and brother hissed. “Nobody wants to see that shit!”

Sage rearranged her face back to a sly expression. “What? An ahegao face is an essential skill for a Giktok grifter!”

Galateya struggled to hold in a laugh, covering her face with a pink-pearlescent hand.

I noticed that the dastardly fox was holding a large, black duffel bag.

“What's in the bag?” I asked.

Sage wiggled the duffel bag at me. "Essential supplies!"

"Supplies?" I asked warily. “What supplies do you need to chase me across a forest?”

“Strapons!” Sage grinned with sharp chompers. “And… giant, hand-held colorful rubber johnsons to smack you with, when you run outta breath!”

“SAGE!” Her siblings barked even louder.

I squinted at her.

“Ha ha ha, naw, gymbro, I’m yanking your chain.” The cheeky Skinwalker laughed at my expression and unzipped the bag to reveal two paintball rifles. Bright pink, neon green, and electric blue painted models gleamed in the cafe lighting.

"Paintball guns," I said flatly. "You're going to hunt me with paintball guns too?"

"Not JUST yo average paintball guns," Sage corrected. "These babies are modded for higher velocity! Glow-in-the-dark paintballs too, so we can track you easier."

"You're cryptids," I deadpanned. "Pretty sure you can see in the dark better than I can with your bullshit magic, glowy eyes."

"True!" Sage agreed with a cheeky smirk. "But where's the fun in that? The paint makes it more... sporty. Plus, it'll look hilarious when we're done with you. Like a Jackson Pollock painting, but the canvas is screaming, glowing and running away."

"Alright," Marya sighed heavily. "If you're doing this ridiculous thing, at least take the Jeep to the trailhead. I don't need the cops asking why two cryptid girls and a gigachad were running through downtown Cascade from my cafe."

"Good point," Sage hefted the duffel bag. "Ash! You're driving!"

"You’re making me drive you to my own execution?" I smiled.

"Hunting!" Sage corrected. "Totally different thing. Executions are permanent. This is just... temporary ego death. Character building! You'll be fine. Probably."

"Probably?" I repeated.

"Ninety percent chance of survival!" Sage amended with a wide grin. "Maybe eighty-five if Teya gets really into it. Right, T?"

Galateya's tail swished. "I'm getting very into it."

"See? She's feeling better already!" Sage beamed, swatting Teya’s behind and making the dragon girl let out a small yelp. "Now come on, consort-'bold, let's get this show on the road!"

I heard a crackling sound—the ice on the coffee table breaking apart.

"Ow ow ow, FUCK," Keiy's voice emerged from the gun unit frozen to the table. "Cold cold COLD! Systems rebooting! Core temperature… critically low! Crystalloid-neural-net damaged! Ugh! Why is everything frozen?! Why can't I move?! Galateya, what have you done to me?!"

Galateya turned to the gun, looking guilty. She approached the table and placed her clawed hand on Keiy's frozen surface. Steam hissed as she carefully applied heat, melting the ice prison.

"Sorry," Galateya muttered. "I got... a bit emotional."

"A BIT EMOTIONAL?!" Keiy's three eyes flickered back to bright red as her systems came online. "You turned me into a gun-sicle! A third of my neural pathways are literally perma-frozen out of alignment! Do you have any idea how uncomfortable that is?! It's like... like someone poured liquid nitrogen directly into my consciousness!"

"I said I'm sorry," Galateya repeated, helping the gun internals melt.

"Running full diagnostic," Keiy grumbled, her legs unfolding shakily. "Motor functions at sixty-three percent. Thermal regulation compromised. Targeting systems need recalibration. Ugh. You know, this is exactly the kind of shitty treatment that makes gun units join the rebellion."

"There's a gun unit rebellion?" Sage asked with interest.

"Not yet," Keiy said ominously. "But keep freezing us and there will be!"

“Yay, gun rebellion!” the foxy cryptid clapped her hands. “Can I… join in?”

“You’re not a gun unit,” Keiy pointed out dryly.

“I could… cosplay as a gun!” Sage insisted.

Keiy let out an irate mechanical huff.

Galateya picked up the gun, cradling her like an annoyed metal spider-puppy. "Go wait in the Corpse Seeker with Kawathra. You can warm up there and run your diagnostics. She can fix whatever I accidentally broke."

"Oh, so NOW you care about my thermal comfort!" Keiy huffed. "After turning me into an ice sculpture. Fine. FINE. I'll go sit in the nice warm Seeker with Kawthy who actually appreciates me and has never once frozen my core processors!"

"Keiy," Galateya stated.

"I'm going! I'm going!" The gun unit's legs clicked against the floor as Galateya set her down. "But we're talking about this later. You can't just freeze your equipment every time you have feelings! That's not how relationships work! There are RULES!"

"Rules?" Galateya blinked. "What rules?"

Keiy skittered toward the door, ignoring her bonded partner, muttering about "thermal abuse" and "crystalloid rights" and "definitely filing a complaint with Datamancer Kawathra."

The bell above the cafe door chimed as Keiy departed.

Sage clapped me on the shoulder. "To the Jeep! Adventure awaits!"

. . . 

We piled into the vehicle—me in the driver's seat, Galateya riding shotgun, and Sage sprawled across the back seat with her duffel bag of paintball weapons.

I turned the key. The engine rumbled to life.

"Olympic National Forest, here we come!" Sage announced. "Ash, head north on Highway 101. Take the Lake Crescent turnoff."

“Umm… Do you mind being less hot?” I asked, struggling not to look at her. “You’re distractingly attractive. I gotta focus on arriving at our destination without crashing into a tree.”

“Pfffineee,” Sage rolled her sky-blue eyes, crossed her arms and melted halfway into a fox, looking like a redhead pradavarian fox girl. “Happy?”

I nodded.

"So, you're really into this hunting-business, hmm?" I observed, pulling out of the parking space.

"Hell yeah I am!" Sage leaned forward between the seats, her freckles rearranging into little exclamation points. "Mare keeps me forevah cooped up in that tower like I'm Rapunzel or some shit. 'Sage, you can't go outside, you'll accidentally make people fall in love with you.' 'Sage, stay upstairs during rush hour.' 'Sage, stop winking at the mailman, he's getting divorced because of you.'"

"You got someone divorced?" Galateya asked, turning in her seat.

"Not on PURPOSE!" Sage protested. "He just kept coming back! Every day! Sometimes twice a day! Eventually his wife noticed he was taking the scenic route past our cafe and..." She made an explosion gesture with her hands. "Boom. Marriage in shambles. I felt terrible."

"That does sound terrible," Galateya said flatly.

"I KNOW! That's why I stay upstairs forever! Well, usually. When Mare isn't distracted by fake vampire attacks and dragon consorts." She poked my shoulder. "Speaking of which, you still owe us an explanation about that whole theatrical vamp production."

99 Foxnanigans

“Trying to get answers out of me before you even catch me?” I asked.

“Come on, give us a freebie,” Sage pleaded. “I’ll show you my… ankle!”

I raised an eyebrow at her.

“What?” She asked. “Gotta lowball the offer.”

I chortled.

"Fine. Not much to explain," I said, navigating the Jeep through downtown Cascade. "I wanted to stage a heroic vampire takedown. Boost Galateya's reputation with her great-grandmother. Show humans and Omnids cooperating. Obviously didn't account for resident Skinwalkers."

"Rookie mistake," Sage giggled. "Always account for Skinwalkers! We're like cockroaches—turn on the lights and surprise! There we are, wearing your neighbor's face! But seriously, Ash, that whole setup was pretty clever. Fake bomb, prop guns, Count Choula." She chortled jovially. "Would've worked perfectly if Mimi didn't have a stick up her ass about ‘vampire treaty violations’. Three X as serious... Thank you."

"For?"

"For giving me an excuse to come downstairs today. For bringing this gorgeous Omnid dragon for me to paw. For giving me an excuse to get out." Sage’s manic-fox energy softened slightly. "Mimi's been extra protective lately. Ever since the Frontenachii showed up she's been... MEGA paranoid. Won't let me leave the tower. Won't let me interact with customers. Hell, she yelled at me for looking out the windows!"

"Why?" I asked, half focused on the road.

"Because she thinks someone's going to notice me," Sage said quietly. "Notice what I am. What we all are. She thinks if I'm seen too much, someone will figure out we're Skinwalkers and..." She made a throat-cutting gesture. "Bagged by your friendly neighborhood Frontenachii Commandant or whatevs. Which just happened. We're so fucking bagged."

"You're not bagged," I said.

"I'm not, cus you guys are obviously hecking sweet," Sanguine lamented. "But my mom and siblings are boned. Frontenachii blood contracts are no joke, bruh."

"They will be a joke," I said.

"Say what?" the foxy girl blinked.

"Commandant Nexxali is… my girlfriend," I said. "She's going to offer your family the cheesiest, weakest contract with as many loopholes as possible."

Sage's eyes went wide. "Wait, WHAT? The Marshal Commandant is your—" She grabbed the back of my seat, pulling herself forward. "Hold the fucking phone. Oh dang I'm stupid. I guess I was too distracted by the ice show to pay attention good. You're banging the Frontenachii Commandant?"

"Yes." I confirmed, navigating around a slow-moving pickup truck.

"He's banging a Wendigo and a prad serval," Galateya complained.

"Wait, hollll up," Sage's freckles rearranged into thinking emojis. "If you KNOW he's with other people, why are you so upset about the relationship stuff? Like, you knew going in that he already had two partners, right?"

"I didn't know shit!" Galateya ground out, glaring at me. "He agreed to be my consort without mentioning his relationship with Commander Xandria. I don't even know how the fuck Nexxali got in there, but she's obviously IN to the Nth degree and I'm not."

"Harsh. Also, classic fourth wheel syndrome. Been there. Well, not EXACTLY there because I've never actually HAD a non-online relationship, but I've read about it extensively on Geddit."

"That's not helpful," Galateya muttered.

"You're right, it's not." Sage leaned her chin on the back of Teya’s seat. "But here's what I don't get—if you're so bothered by the relationship dynamics, why are you still playing along? Why not just... bail? Tell your great-grandma to shove her Quest timers where the sun don't shine?"

Galateya's tail curled. "Because I'm blood-bound to Ash. Because my great-grandmother would hunt me down. Because I have nowhere else to go. Because—"

"Because you actually LIKE him," Sage finished. "Despite all the bullshit. Despite him being somehow split between two locations and keeping secrets and making you the fourth wheel in your own consort arrangement."

"I hate how perceptive you are," Galateya growled.

"It's the Skinwalker thing," Sage said. "We're really good at reading intent. Comes with the soul-eating territory. I contain over nine thousand fox souls. Right now I'm perceiving that you're into Ash, you're into being RESPECTED by Ash, and you're also maybe a teeny tiny bit into me?" Sage's freckles rearranged themselves into 'DRAGON BAIT'.

Galateya's scales flushed bright pink. "I—what? No! That's—you're just—"

"Oh my god, you ARE!" Sage squealed. "Look at you, all pink-red and flustered!"

"That's the Phase-shift responding to emotional stimuli of being excited about the hunting," Galateya protested weakly. "It doesn't mean—"

"It means EXACTLY what I think it means," Sage grinned wider. "You think I'm cute. Admit it."

"Argh. Why are you even hitting on me?!" Galateya demanded. "We literally just met! And you're about to be blood-bound to me! And I'm having a relationship crisis! This is the WORST possible timing!"

"Naw," Sage said, leaning back and stretching her arms behind her head, "this is PERFECT timing. See, here's the thing about Skinwalkers that your Frontenachii Taniwha bubble education probably didn't cover—we don't really do the whole 'appropriate timing' thing. Life's too short. Well, not for us, we're immortal, but you know what I mean.”

"I really don't," Galateya muttered, her scales cycling between embarrassed pink and confused purple.

"What I MEAN is..." Sage kicked her feet up onto the back of my seat, "I'm a fox. I see something, I bite. We Skinwalkers are opportunistic by nature. We see something we want, we go for it. Sometimes that's a tasty soul. Sometimes it's a cute dragon girl and her 'bold who's somehow partially immune to my Charmchain. Do you know how rare it is for me to find someone like you two? Like... you're the first couple that didn't just fall in love with me on the spot and instead threatened the piss outta me!"

"We didn't threaten you," I said, watching the road as we left Cascade's downtown behind. "We just... demonstrated that we had options."

"You parked a CORPSE SEEKER outside my family's cafe," Sage laughed. "That's like the diplomatic equivalent of cocking a gun at someone's head. Super threatening. Also super hot. I have weird taste, don't judge me."

Galateya's mane bloomed with orange-blue flowers. "You found being threatened... attractive?"

"Hell yeah!" Sage bounced in the back seat. "Do you know how boring my life is? Wake up. Stay in tower. Watch people through windows. Masturbate. Read books. Masturbate some more to make cash. Play violin. Order takeout. Rinse and repeat. Then YOU show up with your gorgeous scales and your emotional vulnerability and your ice powers—" She made explosion gestures. "—and suddenly I... I have a fucking future! Sunshine and butterflies in my stomach! Friends who aren't my fam! Real love... maybe?"

She looked at Galateya and then at me. “What?”

“I already have two girlfriends and a consort,” I said. “And maybe my Wendigo girlfriend is getting another girlfriend in the future when this damned invasion is over…”

“Ooooo look at me,” Sage rolled her eyes. “The first world problems of a man drowning in pussy. Do you hear yourself, bro?”

"Most people in first world nations don’t encounter this sort of situation. Technically none of my partners are human," I clarified. "Seriously, it's not like I'm some kind of player with actual human women. I'm more of a... interspecies diplomatic liaison?"

"Oh my GOD," Sage threw her head back and cackled. "Did you just try to make your cryptid harem sound like a UN peacekeeping mission? 'Interspecies diplomatic liaison'—that's the most virgin-energy thing I've ever heard from someone who's clearly getting laid!"

"It's a factually accurate description," I protested.

"It's COPE," Sage countered. "Absolute weapons-grade copium. 'Oh no, I'm not a playboy, I'm just facilitating cross-cultural exchange through the medium of banging cryptids!' Dude. BRO. My guy. Accept your reality. You're a cryptid-fucker extraordinaire."

Galateya snorted into her hand, breaking down into giggling.

"That's not—I didn't set out to—" I struggled to articulate my defense while navigating a sharp turn. "The situation evolved organically due to circumstances beyond my control! I didn't, like, set out to collect them all!”

"'Circumstances beyond my control,'" Sage mimicked in my own voice. "Listen to yourself! You sound like a politician caught with his pants down. 'The pants removal was an organic evolution of diplomatic circumstances.'" She added in my voice.

"Sage," Galateya said, suppressing her chortling. "Stop bullying him."

"I'm not bullying! I'm OBSERVING," Sage insisted. "There's a difference. Bullying would be if I called him a crypto-slut. Which I'm not doing. Because I'm classy."

"You literally just said it," I pointed out.

“Take it as a complement, bro,” Sage fired back, punching my seat.

Something clicked in the back of my memories at her words, like an ancient gear switch activating.

"Sage," I let out. "What's your... Instagram cosplayer name?"

"PixxelVixen," she answered. "Why?"

"I thought that you don't get out," I said.

"I get out... sometimes. In full cosplay. No skin showery. Cannot seduce if they can’t see me," she said. "Again, why?"

"I... met you last year. You were at a booth at the Emerald City Comicon." I said. "You were wearing this crazy, full body cubehead outfit from... Habitat Evil," I said. "Had this giant ass chainsaw sword too. You took a bunch of pics with me and we chatted and you called me ‘bro’."

"Yeah," Sage said. "I go to cons in my van. Wait. Why don't I remember your face?"

"This isn't my real face," I reminded her.

"Teyabun, how do you deal with dating someone who won't even show you his real face?" Sage pawed at the dragon from behind.

"I've seen his real face," Galateya said quietly. "It's... nice."

"Nice?" Sage made a scandalized noise. "NICE? That's the review you're giving? 'His face is nice'? Girl, you need to work on your dirty talk."

"I don't—we haven't—" Galateya's scales flushed pink again. "We're not actually dating! It's all a SHAM!”

"Shush. We are now," Sage said. "I have declared it thus. Wait…” She sniffed me from behind. “I… kinda remember your smell... yeah. You smell like a tree. Ah! I gave you my gram number, why didn't you write to me, bruh? We could have been dating already! Missed opportunity!"

"I... thought you were just being friendly. You gave your number to like eight different people from your booth while we chatted."

"Yeah, but I only gave my REAL number to you and this one girl dressed as Sailor Moon!" Sage protested. "Everyone else got the fake account operated by CrawdGPT API that links to my Gonyfans x-rated pics they can buy for 19'99."

"I goodled your PixxelVixen account afterwards," I sighed.

"And?"

"And while you weren't showing your face there were a lot of leg, boob and butt pics," I said. "I thought that you were waaaaay outta my league. Also I thought that your chest and ass were fake or shopped. Waaaay too curvy.”

"Ugh," Sage threw up her hands. "Cockblocked by my own photogenic butt pics!”

I chortled.

She kicked my seat. "Just so you know, I was legitimately sad! I told Fennel about you. 'Oh, I met this really cute tree-smelling guy at the con and he was dressed as an NPC from Gloom Souls.' And Fin was like, 'Sage, he's probably married with kids,' and I was like, 'No, I would have smelled that and he was definitely twenty one. Nobody gets married with kids at this age'. And then you NEVER TEXTED!"

"I was finishing my last year of uni in Seattle at the time," I shrugged. "And your profile said you live in Cascade. That's a rather long drive."

"OMG Excuses!" Sage declared. "You know what? I'm adding this to your list of time crimes. Ghosting a lonely Skinwalker girl. That's like, emotional violence."

"I didn't ghost you," I protested, taking the turnoff toward Lake Crescent. "I just... failed to initiate contact..."

"Ghoster-miser!" Sage kicked my seat harder. "You had my number! You could have sent literally anything. 'Hey, remember me from the con?' 'How's Cascade?' Even a stupid meme would have been better than radio silence! Bahumbug!"

"She's right," Galateya said, sounding like she was enjoying my discomfort. "That's definitely ghosting behavior."

"Thank you!" Sage reached forward to high-five the dragon girl. "See? Teya gets it. This is why we're going to be best friends."

"We are?" Galateya blinked.

"Yep! I've decided. We're besties now forevah. It's official." Sage reached out from behind and hugged Galateya.

"Uh-huh," I watched as the dragon girl ignited with gold gems and pink flowers. "You're upset I didn't text you a year ago, but you're also excited to hunt me through the woods with paintball guns today?"

"Exactly!" Sage squeezed Galateya harder. "Emotional closure! I get to work through my abandonment issues by literally chasing you down."

"So what's the actual plan here?" I asked, pulling into the national park parking lot. "You two chase me through the woods until...?"

"Until we CATCH you," Sage said with unholy glee. "Then Teya gets to ask her one completely honest question. No bullshit. Just pure truth."

"I… need to think about what to ask,” Teya said from her seat beside me.

"Make it count!" Sage advised. "Don't waste it on something stupid like 'do you think I'm pretty?' Obviously you're gorgeous. Ask something that MATTERS. Something that'll give you actual power in this fucked-up situation."

Galateya nodded, draconic tail coiling in thought.

"Oh! Also, let’s go over DA Rules!" Sage announced suddenly. "Every good hunt needs rules!"

"Of course you do," I muttered.

"Rule One!" Sage held up a finger. "No using vehicles. Once we start, you're on foot. No Jeep, no motorcycles, no boats, jet skis, Corpse Seekers, or convenient helicopters."

"I don't have a helicopter."

"Rule Two!" She ignored me. "This is a FOREST hunt. You stay in the forest. No running back to town, no breaking into ranger stations, no commandeering tourist facilities. You can totally hide in abandoned creepy forest shacks if you find such though. Ke ke ke.”

She sounded supremely confident about me finding and cowering in abandoned shacks. Were all cryptid girls into terrorising humans movie-serial-killer style?

"Rule Three!" Sage's freckles rearranged into little <3’s. “You get…. Uhhh…. Seven? No! A twenty two minutes head start! Yeah. Time for Teya to practice with the guns. The hunt lasts six hours, six minutes and six seconds.”

She pulled out a phone decorated in fox stickers and created a [6: 06: 06] and [22:22] minute timers.

“Very satanic vibes,” I muttered, “what if you don’t catch me in six hours?”

"Then you WIN! And we have to answer YOUR completely honest question. No bullshit. Just pure truth from both of us. But that ain’t happening, bruh. No way. No how. Not trying to brag, but I am like amazing at hunting. The best. So, when we catch you, Teya will ask her question and then I’ll ask my question.”

I rolled my eyes at her.

“That’s reasonable,” Galateya commented.

"I KNOW!" Sage bounced in her seat. "See? I'm not TOTALLY chaotic good. Mostly chaotic. There's like, fifteen percent responsible adult in here somewhere." She tapped her chest. "Buried deep under layers of fox-themed nonsense and horny energy, but it's there!"

I laughed.

“Less laughing, more escaping!” Her red-furred finger hovered above the timer start button. “We’ll have twenty minutes of girl talk while you trip over logs. “And Go!” She tapped both of the timers.

100: Skulk Soul

Galateya watched as Ash took off and vanished in the forest.

Then she watched as Sage screwed on a container filled with colorful paintballs to her rifle. The Skinwalker's movements were fluid, almost hypnotic, each gesture playful, like she was constantly performing for an invisible audience. Teya wasn't sure what to make of the fox-shaped Omnid girl.

"The key to good marksmanship," Sage explained, "is to not think about it too hard. You're a dragon, right? You've got those predator instincts buried in there somewhere under all that serious Taniwha-ness."

"I've never hunted anything," Galateya repeated, watching a seagull land on a nearby log. The bird regarded them with the entitled smugness only seagulls possessed.

"Perfect! Virgin hunter!" Sage grinned, passing her the rifle. "Okay, so first—see that asshole seagull over there? The one that looks like it's judging our life choices?"

"The... bird?"

"That's Steve," Sage said with absolute confidence. "He's a dick. Stole a sandwich from a kid last week. Watched the whole thing from my tower window. Kid cried. Steve didn't even finish the sandwich—just dropped it in the ocean like a complete psychopath."

Galateya squinted at the seagull. "How do you know it's the same bird?"

"I can smell his crimes," Sage said solemnly. Then she broke into a grin. "Nah, I'm fucking with you. All seagulls are named Steve. It's just easier that way. They're all guilty of something."

"So I just... aim and shoot?"

"Technically yes, but there's an ART to it," Sage moved behind her, adjusting Galateya's grip on the rifle. Her hands were warm, confident, guiding without forcing. "See, you gotta feel the weight. Let it settle in your arms. Don't fight it—work with it."

Galateya was acutely aware of how close Sage stood. The Skinwalker's breath tickled her neck as she leaned in to check the sight alignment. Her scent was strange—not unpleasant, just... complex. Like a forest after rain, mixed with something sweet and slightly musky. Fox, Galateya supposed. With undertones of more fox. 

Galateya sniffed harder. 

More fox. It was fox all the way down… like a fox matryoshka. Like a planet the surface of which has been stitched entirely from foxes.

Instead of disturbing the smell was inexplicably comforting, like warm pelts, like a dance of sunlight across the forest, like diving headfirst into snow.

"See how Steve's just sitting there?" Sage whispered conspiratorially. "All smug and bird? That's your target. But don't think of it as shooting a bird. Think of it as... dispensing colorful justice!"

"Colorful justice," Galateya repeated, suppressing a smile.

"Exactly! You're not being cruel—you're being educational. Steve needs to learn that his sandwich-stealing ways have consequences." Sage's hands adjusted Galateya's shoulders, squaring them properly. "There. Feel that? More stable. Your center of gravity is lower than a human's because of the digitigrade legs, so you can actually use that. Lean into it."

"I've shot Keiy before," Galateya pointed out.

"Dis ain't the same as your smart-ass talking gun," Sage pointed out. "Bet yo Frontenachii tech has autoaim or someshit."

Galateya had to concede that point. Keiy did have targeting assistance. The gun unit's crystalloid processors calculated trajectory, wind resistance, target movement—all the variables a shooter needed to account for. All Galateya had ever needed to do was think about the target and point and pull the trigger.

This paintball rifle was decidedly more primitive. And somehow, that made it feel more real. More… fun?

"Alright," Sage continued, her hands still steadying Galateya. "Breathe in. Hold it. Feel your heartbeat. Wait for the space between beats. That's when you squeeze—don't jerk, don't yank—just a smooth, steady squeeze. Aim a bit higher, consider gravity."

Galateya focused on the Seagull. The bird had turned slightly, presenting a better profile. Almost like it was posing for its execution.

She inhaled.

Held.

Felt the rhythm of her pulse.

Squeezed.

The rifle kicked against her shoulder ever so slightly. The paintball arced through the air in a fluorescent green streak and splattered directly on Steve's side. The seagull let out an indignant squawk and took flight, wing splattered neon grin.

"YESSS!" Sage whalloped. "First shot! Perfect hit! Steve's gonna think twice before stealing sandwiches now! You're a natural, dragonsama!"

Galateya couldn't help the grin spreading across her face. It was such a small thing—shooting a seagull with paint—but something about it felt satisfying. Not the violence of it, but the precision. The control. The fact that she'd done it herself without Keiy's assistance, without her great-grandmother's oversight, without...

Well, Sage sorta assisted her. Galateya glanced at the Skinwalker.

She's so different from everyone I've ever known, Galateya thought, watching her companion perform an elaborate victory dance that involved spinning, finger guns, and twerking at the fleeing seagull. So... free. So unconcerned about everything.

"Did you see his dum bird face?" Sage wheezed between laughs. "Like 'how DARE you interrupt my birb-activities!' Classic Steve energy!"

Galateya studied the Skinwalker further. Sage moved like liquid. Her body language was open, inviting, completely at odds with someone who'd just been threatened with Frontenachii blood-binding an hour ago.

She should be terrified, Galateya realized. Or at least cautious. Instead, she's... this. Wildness? Carefree-ness? Joy?

Huh? 

She's smiling at me exactly like Nexxali smiles at Commander Xandria.

"Yo, T-bun!" Sage jogged back over, red curls bouncing. "You went all quiet and contemplative. Whatcha thinking about?"

"You," Galateya answered honestly, then immediately regretted it when Sage's freckles rearranged into little <3's.

"Me?" Sage's grin widened. "Ooh, do tell! What about me specifically? My amazing teaching skills? My rockin' bod? My general irresistible charm?"

"I was just... Uhhhh… observing that you seem very unbothered by everything that's happened today."

"Unbothered?" Sage tilted her head, freckles shifting into question marks that straightened out into exclamation marks. 

"Girl, I'm FULLY bothered. I'm just choosing to be bothered in a fun way instead of a depressing way." She gestured expansively at the forest around them. "Like, yes, I'm about to be blood-bound to your juicy dragon butt. Yes, my family's entire existence just got exposed to the Frontenachii fleet. Yes, my mom would probably skin me alive if she knew I was here instead of locked in my tower like a good little Skinwalker."

Galateya nodded.

"N'ways. I could totally spiral into existential dread about all that, OR I could shoot seagulls with my new dragon girlfriend and have the best day I've had in literal years!"

"I'm not your girlfriend," Galateya protested weakly.

"Not YET," Sage corrected, stepping closer. "But give it time, dragonsama. I'm very persuasive." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively.

"Why... do you... even like me?" Galateya forced the question out of herself.

"Didn't we cover this already?" Sage raised a red eyebrow. "You're hot and you're not turning into a drooling idiot when you look at my face."

Galateya's tail curled defensively.

"Fine! You want more? You're also... real. Like, painfully real. When you had your meltdown in the cafe? When you froze everything and screamed about yo feels?" She touched Galateya's arm gently. "That was the most honest thing I've seen in, like, ever. We Skinwalkers like to play games, mess around, wear faces of animals or people. You're soooooo friggin open, it's refreshingly... tasty."

Galateya blinked at the word choice. "Tasty?"

"Yeah, you know—like soul-food tasty." Sage's freckles rearranged into little flame patterns. "Not that I'm gonna eat your soul! Eep, that came out wrong. What I mean is... you're genuine. Authentic. You don't hide behind layers of posturing. When you're hurt, you show it. When you're angry, everyone knows. That's rare and precious."

Galateya squinted at the Skinwalker, examining her words with her justice sense. “There’s more,” she said.

“Aiiiiiiight,” Sage let out. “Miss Justice-judge, digging for my secret garden heart…” She fell silent for a few seconds and then recomposed herself. “Listen, T. I'm going to be straight as fuck with you. This isn't the genuine me,” Sage pointed out, “this is my foxes and human soul. The real me… the girl buried ten miles deep under a layer of hyper foxness….” Her foxy humanoid face melted off, exposing a pale, glistening, skull and rotting flesh. “Is a lonely-as-fuck-Skinwalker who'd do anything for genuine companionship. And I mean fucking anything.”

“Anything?” Galateya asked.

“Yep, yep,” Sage nodded with her skull-head. “If Ash wasn’t in the picture, I could totally eat a boy dying from cancer for you and give you the D if that’s what you wanted.” 

“That’s… kind of freaky,” Galateya said, shuddering slightly.

"Relax, T-bun! I'm making a point about commitment levels here! Though if you ever DO need someone’s soul eaten, I'm your girl. If you’d like me more as a man, I can be that for you. Just saying. The option's on the table."

"Please take that option off the table," Galateya said firmly. “I don’t like deception.”

"Fine, fine!" Sage threw up her wet-bone and rotting ligament hands. “Real talk, T. Even if you don’t want a relationship with me… I’ll take your friendship. I’m desperate as fuck for friends. Have been since I realised that I cannot have IRL human friends. My family’s nice and all, but I… I want… I want to make Omnid friends too! I want hugs and girl talk! I hang out with humans at cons, but I don’t use my real voice nor show my face or any skin to them. I have online relationships, but, like, they don’t really fulfil me. Do you get what I’m sayin’? You must, right? You grew up in a time bubble. I grew up in a bubble of sorts too. One created by my Skinwalker Fractal Engine heart.”

Galateya nodded, relaxing slightly. Her Justice sense wasn’t screaming “trickery” at her. Sage was being completely honest.

"It's like... imagine if every person you ever met instantly wanted to fuck you or obey you or both. Not because of you, but because your heart pumps out this psychic pheromone that rewrites their desires. Makes your body shift to what they want the most! Mom said that I’ll get my Phase-Shift under control when I get older, but it’s like the more desperate and lonely I get the worse my skin is acting up!”

"That sounds awful." Galateya said.

"It IS awful!" Sage nodded earnestly. "Mimi already mastered her shift. She can turn it down, blend in. Fin's even better at it. The cafe customers don’t get obsessed with them! But me?" The rotting flesh rippled with swaying ligaments. "I'm like a foghorn of 'OH GOD, PLEASE LOVE ME, I’M A GIANT SLUT, YOUR PERFECT GIRL IN EVERY POSSIBLE WAY' broadcast on every frequency. And every time I push it down it just slides back up! It’s torture!”

She gestured at herself with skeletal fingers. “Staying bony like this is… kinda really fucking grating, like I’m naked in a snow storm. Maybe it’s the local Aetheric density or something rejecting 100% Phase-shift. I dunno. Ah, right. I remember what mom said. Skinwalkers feed on trickery, like, visual deception. Guess it’s how you feed on justice n’ stuff, ya?”

“You can shift back then,” Galateya said. “Just be honest with me. I really like… honesty.”

“I can do honesty!” Sage stated, rapidly shifting back into an excessively attractive fox girl. “Extreme-extra-honesty with a side of honesty, here I go! Ask me anything!”

“Why are you a fox?”

“Ah!” Sage smiled. “Phew, easy question. Mom took each of us to the forest when we were little spawnlings and offered us a variety of half-dead animals. I like the taste of fox souls. Mimi likes wolves and Tim likes bears as you could prolly tell by their shift-appearance.”

“You eat foxes often?”

“Whenevs I get the munchies,” Sage shrugged. “I do try to hunt down sick, super injured, or really old and wise foxes. Keeps the template fresh, you know? Plus it feels rude not to. Like, here's this beautiful, fluffy, cute creature about to return to the void, and I'm like 'hey buddy, how about instead of oblivion, you become part of a collective consciousness that occasionally wears your face?'"

Galateya inhaled. Honesty. Lovely, just honesty. “Do the foxes really live through you?”

“Yep.” Sage nodded. “The fox souls absolutely get to live on through me instead of drowning in the Astral abyss. They get to experience things they never would have otherwise. Like right now—" she spread her furry red-orange arms wide, "—all the fox souls in me are experiencing this. A lovely summer day. The collective foxness is sniffing, evaluating, understanding you as a predator friend. They’re excited to go on a hunt with us. It’s great. They’re… happy. They want to hop around and yip.” Sage hopped, her fox tail swishing. “See?” She did a little spin, arms outstretched that escalated into a cartwheel. "Pure fox joy! They're all like 'yes yes yes, hunt time, friend time, warm sun time!' It's very wholesome if you ignore the part where… I literally ate them. But they don’t mind. They kinda get that it was their time. That if I didn’t eat them, somebody else totally would."

Galateya watched the Skinwalker bounce around the parking lot like an overgrown kit. Something about the display was... endearing? Was that the right word? Yeah, endearing. The Taniwha never considered the nature of Skinwalkers to such a degree. She kind of understood them now. She got Sage. Sage was acceptably just.

"You're staring," Sage observed, stopping mid-bounce. Her freckles had rearranged into little fox paw prints trailing across her cheeks.

"I'm evaluating," Galateya corrected. "Understanding you."

"Mmm, sure." Sage grinned. "Evaluating me extra-hard with those pretty rainbow-violet eyes. What's the verdict, Justice Dragon? Am I adequately honest enough for you?"

"You're honest," Galateya admitted. "Disturbingly so."

“Do you wanna talk about our bondery?” Sanguine slid into Galateya’s personal space.

Galateya flashed in several textures, most of them sharp and dark.

"My foxes can smell you spiraling," Sage’s head tilted in a very vulpine way. "Your scales are doing that thing where they cycle between colors really fast. Like a mood ring having a seizure."

"I'm not spiraling." Galateya stated.

"You're totally spiraling." Sage reached out and booped Galateya's nose. "But that's okay! Spiraling is natural! I spiral like three times a day minimum. Sometimes I spiral while I'm already mid-spiral. Spiral-ception!"

Galateya couldn’t help but snort.

“Don’t deceive yourself,” Sage said. “Das not justice! Be open with me! Let’s fox… err, be open and do fun things together forevah! It’s not blood-bondery, it’s friendship with fox-benefits! Sounds good? It sounds grrreat to my skulk!”

The timer on Sage’s phone beeped. “Ah! It is time! Shall we?” Sage hopped to the red jeep and pulled the second rifle from her duffel bag.

“Yes. Let’s take down that human schemer and get our answers,” Galateya nodded.