Where the Dead Things Bloom [Ch 39, 40]

39 Chillaxery

"We're going to the Superstore tomorrow," Krysanthea declared, her decision clearly final. "All of us—our pack and yours. We'll find these soul fragments and break the connection."

"And father?" Kirra asked quietly. "What do we tell him?"

"Nothing," Krysanthea replied firmly. "Not until we've resolved this. If he learns about your... condition... before we've fixed it, the consequences could be severe."

The other sisters nodded.

"We leave at dawn," Krysanthea continued. "Meet in our cruisers at the gate out of town. Bring whatever weapons and supplies you can carry.”

"Great," I deadpanned. "Looking forward to another death-defying adventure so soon after the last one."

[Achievement Unlocked: "Family Drama Manager" - Successfully navigated raptor sister politics without getting your face clawed off. Your diplomatic skills are questionable, but your survival instinct is impressive!]

"Let's go," Krysanthea said, moving toward the door. "We all need to rest and prepare. Tomorrow will test all of us."

“What if we don’t find all the soul fragments n’ stuff in one trip?” Kirra asked.

“Then we will go a few times,” Krysanthea finished with a weary sigh. 

As we left the conference room, I couldn't help but notice how the three sisters watched us—especially Nessy. The contempt for the human and husky was still there, particularly in Katerina's gaze, but it was now tinged with something new: Uncertainty, perhaps even grudging respect for us somehow succeeding in the slime-stopping mission. If nothing else, they'd learned that there were forces at play beyond their understanding, and that sometimes even enemies had to work together.

As we walked back through the ranger station, something bothered me. I stopped, prompting Krysanthea and Nessy to pause as well.

"Why is the leveling up manual this time?" I asked. "Why doesn't it just happen automatically?"

[System Advisory: Manual level adjustments prevent inconvenient moments of unconsciousness. You see, when the System upgrades your soul-meat amalgamation to higher levels, there's occasionally a teensy risk of existential feedback causing temporary nervous system shutdown. Would you like to level up and pass out in the middle of, say, fleeing from acid slimes? No? Then consider the manual option a feature, not a bug.]

"Oh. That's... concerning."

Kristi's feathers ruffled in alarm. "Wait, what? Passing out? Nobody mentioned anything about that."

"Don't worry, it's probably fine," Nessy said cheerfully. "I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We nap for a bit, wake up feeling twice as fabulous? Sounds like a good deal to me!"

"You have a very relaxed attitude toward potential blackouts," Krysanthea muttered as we headed out to her ranger cruiser.

“Planned blackouts!” Nessy declared. “We ask it to level us up before we go to bed, duh!”

“And if something eats us at night while we're passed out?”

“That would be a tragic ending to our tragic tale,” Nessy shrugged. “Would prolly happen if we didn’t have Bulwichu. She’s watching over us and can send the bees.”

“Send the bees?” The raptor blinked.

“Probably!” Nessy said. “A domain protects its pack! It’s how it works.”

“Right then,” Kristi sighed. “This better not add apiophobia to my apeirophobia.”

“Ha!” Nessy barked a laugh. “Was that a linguistic joke?”

The raptor simply smiled tiredly at us from the rearview mirror.

The rest of the drive back to the campground was quiet, each of us lost in our own thoughts, Nessy nuzzling into my side. Once we arrived, Nessy hopped out of the car and immediately set about building a fire, her energy seemingly limitless despite our dungeon-conquering morning.

"Food time!" she declared, producing a pack of bacon from the RV. "Nothing fixes existential dread like crunchy lunch meat!"

Krysanthea slumped into one of the camping chairs, watching Nessy arrange the bacon strips on an iron grill mesh over the fire. 

"This bacon," she said slowly. "It's from the Superstore, isn't it?"

Nessy nodded without looking up from her cooking. "Yup! Smells normal. Totally fine! No entropy. Might be from another dimension though. Read the tiny text if you wanna know more. Here!”

The husky thrust the package at the raptor and pranced back to the grill.

Krysanthea turned the bacon package squinting at tiny warnings printed on the back. "'Kirindale Farms is the best farm of Eastern Acadia! Buy more bacon and get a 7% discount for returning customers. May contain trace elements of Bolshakoff Quasar. Consuming more than 922 strips per day may result in spontaneous cartwheel syndrome.' 'Not recommended for sentient beings currently experiencing dimensional bifurcation.'"

She tossed the package aside with a frustrated growl, sinking deeper into her chair. "Great! Even our food is corrupted now. Can’t even trust my own family!"

While the bacon sizzled, Nessy found an old tennis ball in the RV. 

She tossed it to me with a grin. "Play!"

I caught it reflexively. “What?”

“Play!” Nessy hopped in one spot excitedly, tail wagging.

"Dogs really are like children that never grow up," Krysanthea observed my confused expression from her chair. “She wants you to throw the ball to her.”

“Ah,” I said, throwing the ball in the general direction of Nessy.

"What?!" Nessy exclaimed, diving dramatically to catch my throw with her teeth. She rolled to her feet and relocated the ball to her hands. "Why would you want to grow up? Adults just sit in chairs and complain about spoopy bacon warnings!"

"Some of us have responsibilities," Krysanthea countered.

Nessy ran to me and dropped the ball in my lap and then ran back towards the forest, paws pounding the ground.

"What? I’m responsible! I lived by myself for four years! Some of us know how to have fun while being responsible!" Nessy retorted, launching herself into the air to snag a particularly high throw from me. "‘Sides, you're smiling. I can tell!"

"I am not," Krysanthea insisted.

“Liar.”

“Fine,” the raptor confessed, the side of her mouth twitching. “I’m smiling at how ridiculous you look chasing a ball. Do you even know where that ball’s been?” 

“I dunno,” the husky shrugged. “My saliva kills most germs.”

“Most, but not all,” Kristi pointed out.

“Wa wa wa,” Nessy wagged her tail with a sly expression. “I’m a lazy raptor-tater. I bet you can’t even catch a ball.”

Krysanthea's feathers bristled. "I could catch a tennis ball blindfolded with one claw tied behind my back."

"Then prove it, scale-face!" Nessy taunted. She tossed the ball high into the air, caught it in her muzzle, then chucked it right at Krysanthea's face with a mischievous grin.

The raptor snatched it from the air with lightning reflexes. "You were saying?”

She threw the ball at Nessy, making it thrum in the air. Nessy barely caught it, flashing from one spot to the other in a black and white blur.

“Good throw,” she panted. “Right. So you can catch a ball… but can you catch me or have you grown fat n’ slow over the years?”

"Oh you did not just call me fat," Krysanthea said, rising from her chair like a coiled spring. Her feathers bristled, and I could practically feel the predatory instincts awakening.

"Nessy," I warned, "I don't think poking the raptor is—"

"ZOOM-zoom!" Nessy howled, and took off around the clearing like a black and white missile.

Krysanthea's professionalism evaporated. With a snarl that was entirely primal, she launched after the husky, her powerful legs propelling her forward with startling speed.

"Guys, the bacon—" I called out, but they were already gone, a blur of fur and feathers circling the campground.

Nessy zigged and zagged, tongue lolling out as she led Krysanthea on a merry chase. The raptor's initial advantage in raw speed was countered by Nessy's ridiculous agility—she could change direction on a dime, leaving Krysanthea scrambling to adjust.

"Stand still!" Krysanthea roared, almost clipping Nessy's tail as they rounded a tree.

"Nu-huh!" Nessy barked back, making an impossible hairpin turn that had the raptor skidding on loose gravel.

I scrambled to take over bacon duty, saving it from becoming charcoal. The sounds of their pursuit echoed through the clearing: Nessy's gleeful yips, Krysanthea's frustrated growls, and the thunder of their feet.

They burst back into view rounding the RV, Nessy now just barely ahead. Krysanthea looked dishevelled, her usually immaculate feathers in disarray, but her amber eyes burned with fiery determination.

"Had... enough... yet?" Nessy panted, her speed flagging ever so slightly.

That was all the opening Krysanthea needed. With a burst of adrenaline, she pounced, tackling the husky in a display of predatory leap that would have made her dinosaur ancestors proud.

They rolled across the grass in a tangle of limbs, finally coming to rest with Krysanthea pinning Nessy to the ground.

"Got you!" the raptor declared triumphantly, her chest heaving.

“Clever girl,” Nessy's response was to twist her head up and deliver a massive, wet lick across Krysanthea's snout.

"GAH!" Krysanthea sputtered, releasing her grip on the husky. “Why?!”

"Victory lick! You did good!" Nessy praised, squirming out from under her. "I knew you still had the zoomies in you!"

I caught Krysanthea failing to suppress a sharp-toothed grin as they staggered back to the campfire, both panting furiously. Their mutual exhaustion had melted the tension between them, if only temporarily.

"Bacon's done!" I announced, smooshing the crispy strips onto paper towels to get the fat out.

They collapsed into the camping chairs, still breathing heavily, fur and feathers equally ruffled.

"You're... way faster than before," Nessy conceded between bites.

"So are you. And more elusive than I expected," Krysanthea admitted grudgingly.

Nessy grinned, her tail thumping against the chair in contentment. 

I brought over the bacon on paper plates. "Anyone hungry after all that cardio?"

Both immediately sat up, their breathing still ragged but eyes bright with appetite.

"See?" Nessy said between bites, nudging Krysanthea. "Everything's better with a bit of fun! Even impending doom tastes less doomy!"

“Just when I try not to think about our doom, you remind me of it,” Krysanthea rolled her eyes, accepting the bacon I offered. For a moment, picking at her food while sitting on the camping chair next to a thoroughly disheveled husky, she looked younger, less burdened.

"Hrm. This tastes surprisingly normal," she admitted after a few bites. “My senses are detecting nothing weird.”

"A praise from the chief ranger," Nessy teased, wiggling contentedly. "Tomorrow you can chase me through the Superstore aisles!"

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Kristi said.

We cleaned up our impromptu picnic and headed inside. The crystalline roots seemed to spread out slightly further across the floor, the faint glow of bulbees fused to the tree providing a gentle, ethereal illumination from above.

"It's getting... bigger," Kristi commented.

"It's a tree," Nessy said. "It's supposed to grow."

“A glass tree growing in an aluminium floor," Kristi said. “What’s it eating?”

"Good vibes!" Nessy declared, flopping down near the trunk. "Pack energy. Happy thoughts. The occasional random selfie."

She pulled out a phone, made a ridiculous face in front of the tree and took a selfie. Then she started vigorously typing.

“Who are you sending that to?” Kristi asked.

“I’m sending Bulwichu the selfie and compliments on how swell she looks today,” Nessy said.

“What. To where?!”

“Bulwichu@fortpack.domain,” Nessy clarified. 

“Did you just make that up?” The raptor sputtered. “Since when does a tree have email?”

“Didn’t make it up. I, ummm… found her profile and email on Predstagram. See?”

Nessy turned her phone to us showing us Bulwhichu’s webpage. “See? She registered herself there last night and added me to her friends list.”

“SHE?!” The raptor barked. “Registered?! Does she write to you too?”

“No,” Nessy shook her black and white curly mane. “How could she? She’s a tree! Ain’t got no fingers.”

“Then how did…” Kristi opened her mouth. “You know what, I don’t want to know.”

Nessy shrugged, resuming her vigorous typing.

Kristi took a deep breath, then turned to me.

"Alec, can we talk?" Her amber eyes flicked to Nessy. "Privately?"

"Sure," I nodded.

"Nessy," Kristi said pointedly. "Could you give us a few minutes?"

"Nope!" Nessy replied cheerfully, grabbing a book from the shelf and settling directly under Bulwichu. She promptly turned the book upside down and began pretending to read. "This is Fort Pack. I’m feeding good vibes to Bulwichu. You want privacy, go talk outside."

Kristi's eye twitched, but after a moment she sighed in resignation. "Fine." She gestured to the unfolded nest bed. "Let's just... sit over there then."

We settled onto the bed, Kristi's posture stiff despite the ocean of Nessy-prepped cushions. She stared at her clawed hands for a long moment before speaking.

"I need to confess something," she began quietly. "About why I really joined your pack. About what I... what I need from you."

I waited, giving her space to find her words.

"In the time loop, on Highway 69..." Her voice dropped even lower. "I almost gave up. Multiple times. The despair was... consuming. I kept searching for my Alec, finding nothing but horrors." She swallowed hard. "Then I made that promise. To protect whatever hope remained. And finding you... even though you're not him, not exactly... it feels like hope is finally manifesting."

Her amber eyes met mine, vulnerability swimming in their depths.

"Being in your pack, feeling that connection... it's stabilizing something in me. Something that I thought was shattered long ago." She looked away. "The truth is... I'm terrified. Terrified that if I lose you too, I'll break completely."

From across the RV, I heard the distinct sound of a page turning. Nessy was still pretending to read, but her ears were angled directly toward us.

“I assigned my sisters to fetch food from the Superstore,” Kristi said. “It’s my fault that they’re like this… now.”

She let out a deep sigh.

"I was so focused on keeping the physical dangers out of Ferguson that I didn't think... Didn’t pay enough attention to my sisters," She let out a shaky breath. "I sent them out there again and again because I was too afraid to face the outside world myself after what happened on Highway 69."

Her claws dug into the bed cushions, creating small tears in the fabric. "And now they're paying for my cowardice. My fears made me push them into danger instead of managing things myself."

She turned to face me more fully, and I saw tears glistening in her amber eyes. "When I look at you... I see hope that I thought I'd lost forever–someone that I could trust with my feelings. Not just because you wear his face, but because of who you've shown yourself to be." Her scaled hand hesitantly reached for mine, hovering uncertainly. "You dove off a cliff rather than let me arrest Nessy. You faced the slime core with me, distracted it while I destroyed it. You... Let me be with you, didn't give up on me when any sane person would have."

Nessy looked over her book with ocean-blue eyes.

"I know I'm supposed to be the strong one," Kristi continued. "The protector of Ferguson. The unbreakable Strand. But the truth is..." She swallowed hard. "I'm barely holding myself together. And somehow, you make me feel like maybe I don't have to be unbreakable. Like maybe... It's okay to need help. To need... someone."

Her hand finally made contact with mine, clawed fingers intertwining gently with my human ones. "I need you, Alec. Not just as a pack leader. Not just as a symbol of hope. I need you because..." She paused, gathering her courage. "Because you make me feel alive again. Like there might be a future worth fighting for, beyond just survival."

Kristi leaned forward slightly, her forehead resting against my shoulder. "I know I don't deserve this. Don't deserve you. Not after how me and my family treated Nessy all these years. Not after the mistakes I've made with my sisters. But I'm asking anyway. Please..."

She fell silent for a moment, seemingly recollecting herself.

40 Feels

"Urm… I've spent too long pretending I don't need anyone,” she resumed, seemingly trying to avoid asking me exactly what she wanted. “That I can carry everything by myself. I pretended that having an online relationship with Alec was fine, but it really… Really wasn’t. I felt so alone. Awful. Unfulfilled. Angry. I didn’t see him often enough and felt like we were gradually drifting apart… and then he vanished… and then…”

She let out a sob into my shoulder.

Her feathers trembled slightly as she struggled to form words. "When I was trapped in that loop, every day felt like my soul was being hollowed out, piece by piece. The only thing that kept me going was hope. And when I finally broke free, when I returned to Ferguson, I felt... empty. Like I'd left essential parts of myself scattered across that infinite highway."

She lifted her head, amber eyes glistening. "Then you appeared. Not the exact man I lost, but someone who could understand what it means to be unmade and remade. Someone who..." she swallowed hard, "who makes my heart beat again when I thought it had forgotten how."

I nodded and then my mind arrived at a sudden realization—if the souls of her sisters could be retrieved from the Superstore… then, maybe pieces of Kristi were still there, trapped on the infinite road, waiting to be rescued.

A tear finally escaped, tracing down her scaled cheek. "I know I'm not the easiest person to... care for. I'm rigid, controlling, often cold. My sisters would joke that I have ice in my veins." Her voice cracked slightly. "But with you, I feel warm. Alive. Like I'm not just existing day to day, but actually living."

From across the RV, I could feel Nessy’s eyes digging into me.

"Joining your pack wasn't just about soul damage," Kristi continued. "It was about... connection. Something real to anchor me when my mind keeps drifting back to that endless road. You ground me, Alec. In ways I didn't think were possible anymore."

She hesitated, then added very quietly, "I think I'm falling for you. Not because you remind me of him, but because of who you are now. The man who walks between life and death. Who cares for his friends. Who sees me—really sees me—beyond the uniform and the duties."

Her confession hung in the air between us.

"I'm scared," she admitted. "Scared that caring this much makes me weak. Scared that you'll realize I'm too damaged, too cold, too broken by what I've endured. But I'm more scared of never taking this chance. Of letting fear rule me like it has for so long."

"You're not broken," I said gently. "Maybe scarred by that dungeon road, maybe changed, but not broken. And definitely not weak."

A sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob escaped her. "Only you would say that to someone who almost shot you multiple times. Please forgive me for doing that, for not being more understanding to you and to Nessy."

"Well," I smiled slightly, "I am known for my questionable judgment. Water under the bridge."

That drew a genuine, if watery, laugh from her. "Indeed. Thank you," She wiped her eyes with her free hand. "I'm sorry for dumping all this on you. I just... needed you to know. Before we head into whatever nightmare the Superstore became. In case we don't make it back."

"We'll make it back," I assured her. 

“We will,” Nessy agreed from her spot beneath the crystal tree. “Bulwichu will help! She will go into the store with us.”

"You know, privacy means not eavesdropping!" Kristi huffed at the husky.

"Can't help it, I have big fluffy ears!" Nessy retorted, bounding over to join us on the bed. She plopped down behind us, immediately wrapping her arms around both of us. “Hi.”

“How do you know what the tree wants?” Kristi asked, wiping her face.

“I can smell it,” Nessy shrugged. “And once we’re done conquering the store we’ll conquer the highway too.”

“What?! No effing way! I’m not going back to that hell…” Kristi shuddered, drawing into herself.

“You won’t be alone,” Nessy said softly. “We’ll be with you. Always and forever. We’ll destroy that highway. Get back what was taken from you. No matter how many loops it takes.”

“You don't get it! It’ll eat your skills, your levels!” Kristi protested. “You…”

“Aww, you care ‘bout me?” Nessy purred.

“I…” Kristi let out. “I care about Alec…”

Nessy arched an eyebrow.

“and yes… I'm trying to care about you, you damned furry menace!”

“Don’t worry. The highway won't be able to eat our levels while we sleep,” Nessy shook her head, rapidly relocating from her spot behind us onto our laps. “Because we have a domain. We’ll travel inside it until we find and slay the core that’s looping that road.”

“And that will… work?” Kristi looked down at the grinning husky on her lap. “You’re… certain?”

“Mhmmm,” Nessy nodded. “Totes am.”

[Quest Alert: "Highway to Hell, Population: You" - Break the infinite loop of Highway 69, rescue your companion’s soul fragments, and avoid becoming permanent roadkill. Estimated difficulty: Impossiburr deathloop. Reward: The knowledge that you've chosen willingly to return to a place that literally eats souls for breakfast. Good luck, you absolute madlads!]

Kristi bolted upright as the silver text materialized before them, nearly dislodging Nessy from her lap. Her feathers stood on end, pupils contracting to slits.

"No, no, no," she muttered, her voice tight with panic. "Not the highway. Anywhere but there!"

"Shhhh." Nessy reached up, patting Kristi's scaly cheek with surprising gentleness. "Tomorrow is Superstore day! One nightmare at a time! We won’t go to the highway till we’ve beaten a few smaller dungeons, kay?”

“Okay,” the raptor exhaled, settling slightly but still looking quite tormented.

“Speaking of which..." The husky's eyes gleamed with mischief. "Since you've just confessed your… appreciation for our pack leader, I should probably lay down some rules."

“What rules?” Kristi let out, momentarily distracted from highway-related despair.

"As a senior pack member and self-appointed moral guardian, I must supervise all romantic activities!" Nessy declared, puffing out her chest. "It's my solemn duty to preserve Alec's virtue!"

Kristi's anxiety momentarily forgotten, she stared at the husky incredulously. "You're joking."

"Nope! As a goodly Nazarite, I must ensure all courting follows proper protocols." Nessy raised a paw.

“You actually have protocols for something?” Kristi raised an eyebrow. “You? The most disorganized creature in Ferguson? Consider me shocked.”

“Oi, I’m plenty organized,” Nessy huffed from her lap.

I couldn't tell if she was serious or not, but decided to play along. "And what exactly constitutes 'supervision,' oh moral guardian?"

Nessy grinned, showing all her teeth. "It means I get to watch and make commentary! Maybe… join in. Monitor that you don't cross the line. You know, normal pack bonding stuff."

“Great,” Kristi groaned. "I'm being lectured on romantic propriety by a dog who licks people's faces without permission."

“Face licks aren’t romantic! They’re basic dog affection! Totally different vibe!”

Krysanthea’s feathers twitched. “You’re insufferable, Whitepaw. You realize that, yes?”

“Insufferably adorable, you mean,” Nessy shot back, sticking out her tongue in a playful blep. “But seriously, Kristy, if you’re gonna be all heart-eyes at Alec, we need ground rules. I’m the pack’s vibe-checker, and I say we gotta keep things… classy.”

“Classy?” Kristi echoed. “You literally chased a tennis ball like it was your life’s mission an hour ago.”

“And I looked majestic doing it!” the husky declared, undeterred. “Point is, I’m in charge of making sure this pack doesn’t spiral into a soap opera. So, here’s the deal: any romantic shenanigans have to be pack-approved, and I’m the approval committee!”

“This is absurd. I’m a grown pradavarian and I’m being offered to be supervised by a husky with the emotional maturity of a pre-teen,” Kristi said. “Why are you like this?”

“Like what?” Nessy blinked.

“You know what you’re like!” Kristi eyed Nessy up and down.

“I’ve sniffed myself and determined that I’m awesome and lovable,” Nessy replied smugly. “Also, you’re dodging the issue. You confessed your big ol’ raptor feels, so now we gotta integrate that into Fort Pack without anyone getting their feathers or fur ruffled. Right, Alec?”

“Uh, sure,” I said. 

“Great!” Nessy chirped, hopping off our laps and striking a dramatic pose, one paw on her hip. “Fear not! Under my expert supervision, we’re gonna have fun that keeps everyone happy!”

“What kind of… fun?” Kristi asked with a suspicious face.

“Oh, you’ll see. It’s time for Fort Pack’s first official pack bonding activity! Something to celebrate our victory over the slime dungeon and have a relaxing evening before the Superstore mission. We’re gonna get cozy, share some feelings, and bond extra hard!” She waggled her eyebrows exaggeratedly.

I exchanged a glance with Kristi.

“So,” I said. “What do you have in mind?”

“Trust me, it’s gonna be pawesome!” she declared, darting to her duffel bag and rummaging through it with manic energy. She emerged with a small, suspiciously shiny bottle, a variety of hair brushes, a massage roller and a deck of cards. “Behold! The tools of pack intimacy!”

“Is that… massage oil?” Krysanthea asked.

“Yup!” Nessy confirmed, tossing it onto the bed between us. “And these—” she waved the cards, “—are Truth or Dare: Pack Edition! Custom-made by yours truly for maximum bonding and minimum awkwardness.”

“You made a card game?” I asked, picking up the deck and flipping through the cards within. The cards were hand-drawn, covered in paw prints and glittery dog-themed stickers, with titles like “Confess a Secret Crush”, “Brush mane”, “Give a Packmate a Back Rub.”

“Genius, right?” Nessy beamed. “We’re gonna play, get a bit touchy-feely, and make sure everyone’s on the same page emotionally. No one gets left out, no one gets jealous, and we all come out stronger as a pack! Yay!”

“Yay?” Kristi repeated.

“Just so you know, you're already on thin ice, Miss,” Nessy said. “Stealing Alec on a date without my permission.”

“That wasn’t a…”

“You keep telling yourself that, feather-butt. Alec—pick a card.”

I hesitated, glancing at the deck as if it might bite. The cards were a chaotic mix of Nessy’s handwriting, doodles of hearts, paws, and dogs. With a sigh, I drew the top card and read it aloud: “‘Dare: Give a packmate a five-minute shoulder massage using the provided oil, unless they're fluffy, then just hand massage is fine.’”

Nessy squealed, bouncing in place. “Perfect start! Who’re you picking, Alec? Me or Kristy-whisty?”

Krysanthea’s claws flexed against the bed. 

“Relax, Chief,” I said, holding up my hands. “I’ll pick Nessy. She looks like she’s about to explode if she doesn’t get attention.”

“Yessss!” Nessy fist-pumped, scooting closer and turning her back to me. She rapidly yanked her ranger uniform top off, revealing her black-and-white fur in all its fluffy glory, and tossed it aside. 

“Make with the massage. Fur needs direct contact for maximum relaxation!” she declared, wagging her tail so hard it nearly knocked the cards off the bed. 

Krysanthea pinched the bridge of her snout, muttering something about “Nazareth save me from this canine catastrophe.” Her eyes however lingered on Nessy’s bare back

I put my hands on Nessy’s shoulders, her fur feeling soft and warm beneath my fingers. She let out an exaggerated moan the moment I started kneading, her tail thumping against my leg.

“Ooooh, Alec, you’re a natural!” she purred, leaning into my touch. “Kristy, you’re missing out! These hands are magic!”

“Uh-huh,” Krysanthea said dryly, though her gaze flicked to my hands working Nessy’s shoulders, a faint violet flush creeping up her scaled neck.

I focused on keeping the massage as platonic as possible, working out the knots in Nessy’s muscles while trying to ignore her theatrical sighs and wiggles. Despite her dramatics, I could feel actual tension melting away under my touch, and it was satisfying to know I was helping her relax after the day’s conquests.

“Time check!” Nessy announced after what felt like an eternity but was probably only three minutes. “Two more minutes of bliss, then Kristy’s turn to draw!”

“Joy,” Krysanthea deadpanned, crossing her arms.

When the five minutes were up, Nessy flopped back against me, her head resting on my chest as she grinned up at me. “Best. Pack leader. Ever. Your turn, Kristy!”

"Put a shirt on!" Kristi growled.

"Fine, fine," Nessy rolled her eyes, dug into a drawer and and pulled on her pink nightgown, pulling off the ranger pants right in front of us. Kristi tried not to stare.

"Back to the game!" Nessy declared, rapidly buttoning up the back of the nightgown up to contain her wagging tail.

Krysanthea eyed the deck like it was a venomous snake but leaned forward and snatched a card with a flick of her claw. She read it, and her feathers immediately puffed out, making her look like an irate peacock. “‘Truth: Share a romantic fantasy you’ve had about a packmate.’”

"You know, normally in Truth or Dare you get a choice of..." Kristi began.

"Stop avoiding the question n' criticizin' my game," Nessy’s ears shot straight up, her grin turning positively feral. “Spill it, Chief! What’s your spicy raptor brain been dreaming up?”

Krysanthea’s scales darkened, and she looked like she was seriously considering bolting from the RV. “This is—” she hissed. “I’m not—”

“No chickening out!” Nessy interrupted, wagging a claw. “The Chicken-butt title awaits if you don’t answer. Come on, Kristy, we’re all friends here. Lay it on us!”

Krysanthea’s jaw clenched, her amber eyes darting to me, then away. “Fine,” she growled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Earlier... I... imagined... dancing with Alec. Under the stars, atop of the ranger station. Like we did at the formal, but... slower. Closer. More than one dance. Concluding on an air mattress looking up at the stars.” She swallowed hard, her claws digging into her thighs. “With no one else around. Just... us.”

The room went quiet, even Nessy’s tail pausing mid-wag. I felt my face heat up, the image of slow-dancing with Krysanthea under a violet sky vivid and unexpectedly stirring. Her vulnerability, already raw from her earlier confession, made the admission hit harder. My mind suddenly slid sideways. 

Colorful lights above us. “Spring Formal of 2021!” Banner overhead declared. My hands entwined with the class president, the smartest, prettiest raptor girl. My heart beating like mad as she allowed me to spin her. Fiberoptic dress lighting up her curvy, absurdly fit figure.

“I like you,” she whispered.

“Why?”

“You’re sweet,” she replied. “Kind. Artsy. Reliable. I liked you for a while now, but kinda loafed on saying anything. Do you want to go out with me?”

“Aww, Kristy, that’s super romantic! A gold star for feels!” Nessy declared, tearing me out of the invasive me-not-me memory. The Husky leaned over and gave Krysanthea side a quick, playful nudge, which the raptor surprisingly didn’t dodge.

“Fine. Your turn, Nessy,” Krysanthea said quickly, clearly eager to shift the spotlight from her blushing scales. “Let’s see how you handle your own ridiculous game.”

Nessy snatched a card with glee, her eyes lighting up as she read it. “‘Dare: Brush a packmate’s hair—for three minutes, and sing a song or talk about why they’re awesome.’ Oh, this is my jam!” She grabbed the raptor-designed soft hairbrush and spun to face Krysanthea, who recoiled.

“No,” Krysanthea said, raising a clawed hand.

“Yes! Pack rules!” Nessy sang, already scooting closer. “You’re getting brushed, feather-face, and you’re gonna love it!”

“I’ll bite you,” Krysanthea threatened.

“Promises, promises. Relax, Chief, I’m a pro,” Nessy said, her tone soothing as she fluttered around the raptor and started to brush her feathery mane. The feathers were softer than they looked, shimmering under the RV’s light, and Nessy’s touch was gentle, almost reverent. Then, true to the dare, she started to sing, her voice clear and melodic.

“Oh, Kristy’s got feathers that shine like the stars,
She’s tough as a tank, leaves monsters with scars!
Her heart’s big and brave, though she hides it with sass,
The best raptor packbae—yeah, she’s got class!”

Krysanthea sat frozen, her amber eyes wide with surprise as Nessy's brush moved through her feathers with practiced care. The tension that had been holding her rigid slowly began to melt away. She shifted slightly, unconsciously leaning into the touch.

"She saved our town from slimey doom,
With courage that makes the darkness bloom!
Though she acts all stern and mighty cold,
Her heart's worth far more than gold!

Her scales gleam emerald, violet and green,
The fiercest ranger you've ever seen!
She guards our valley day and night,
Our packmate strong, our friend so bright!"

Nessy's tail wagged in time with her song. Somehow I could almost hear an illusory guitar tune behind her words.

"When Highway 69 tried to break her will,
She fought like crazy and is alive still!
Our Kristy's brave, our Kristy's strong,
In our pack, where she belongs!

Though Superstore might try to tear us apart,
Kristy stands firm with her warrior's heart!
With claws of justice and mind so keen,
She's the finest ranger this town's ever seen!

When darkness creeps and monsters roar,
She stands between us and danger's door!
Our feathered guardian, proud and tall,
The best packmate of them all!"

As the three minutes drew to a close, Nessy finished with a gentle sweep of the brush down Krysanthea's neck feathers, her voice dropping to a tender finale:

"She faced the endless road alone,
Through loops of time, where hope had flown!
But still she fought, still she believed,
And now her soul can start to grieve!

Her feathers soft, her spirit steel,
Her wounded heart we'll help to heal!
Together strong, together free,
Our pack of four - our family!"

Nessy set the brush down with a flourish, her blue eyes sparkling with pride at her impromptu performance. Krysanthea remained still for a moment, her scales flushed brilliant violet.

"There," Nessy declared, sitting back. "Three minutes of premium feather care and a custom ballad. How's that for pack bonding?"

"Did you just call me your family?" Kristi let out, opening a single eye to stare at Nessy.

"It fit into the lyrics therefore I did," the husky shrugged. "Pack is more than family, you know!"

"How did you do the guitar thing? I could have sworn you were brushing me, not holding a guitar in your hands."

"I dunno. Riffweld stuff, I guess?"

"I see and who's the fourth pack member?”

“Bulwichu tree, duh!”