2:7
"Much to prove?" Lotte asked. "How am I allowed to prove it?" She frowned, already considering the things she could show off. She could see in the dark, but if they hated lamia so much, would they think it was all just a simple trick? Perhaps it was best to show off what she could really do. She was a hunter, so she should hunt, and she was an archer, so she should… use her bow. Archers didn't arch, though she knew it was because of the shape of the bow that it was called that.
"However you want, as long as I accept it. If you're too scared, you can leave. And if you fail, I will toss you out of here."
"Figuratively, or literally?" Lisbeth asked.
Lotte didn't know what 'figuratively' meant, though she assumed it had something to do with math, except that made no sense.
"Whichever works, little rat." Octavius straightened up with a sneer.
"Archery and hunting," Lotte answered, simply.
"That's what you'll test?"
"I said I am a hunter. I shall hunt." She shrugged, looking Octavius over. He smelled faintly of blood, and had a look in his eyes that unnerved Lotte. It was a little like the look of a diseased animal, like those strange animals that had bitten Lotte, right before she'd first met the Nachtmater.
"Very well. You will need to give me a little time to set up the archery butts on the ground here." Octavius gestured around. "There is a practice field further in the house, but we shall not be allowing you that honor yet. Wait here. Or do not. If you try to enter, it will be a violation of our home. If you try to leave, we will judge you a failure."
He was far too formal, Lotte thought. But she nodded, and watched him leave. He was perhaps attractive, but with the kind of personality that made Lotte want to stand at… well, at bowshot length away from him, potentially with a nocked arrow if it came time for a fight.
"Are you sure you can live up to whatever standard he has?" Lisbeth asked.
"No, I'm not sure," Lotte confessed, but she felt the warmth in the pit of her stomach. "But I want to do this, I want to do this so much."
"Why?" Lisbeth asked.
"They're hunters. I am one too. I want to prove myself, and I want to understand what I need to know."
What if she lost? Her attempts to prove herself would be stymied. She wouldn't learn about the problem and whether she could solve it. She wouldn't learn anything, but she was willing to risk that.
"I suppose I understand," Lisbeth admitted, frowning as Lotte began to string her bow, carefully checking it to make sure it was in good working order. Her arrows were nothing special, but trick arrows were a gimmick, often enough, beyond a few obvious variations. She wasn't going to mess with different weights, especially not in front of an expert.
Or someone who knew experts.
Finally, Octavius and a half-dozen servants returned, all carrying hay archery butts, of the sort that Lotte had practiced with when she was younger. They began to set them up at different distances along the lawn. Though the area was wide enough, it was also very clear that none of the shots would be very far unless Lotte was told to stand across the street and wait until there wasn't anyone passing.
Which, though Lotte didn't know the laws, thought was probably not something that people'd like.
"We could have you aim from further out. But a snake like you probably will struggle at these lengths. Besides, if you really are a hunter, then you're not hitting targets from that far away, not if you're in a forest. Unless you're a duck hunter?" Octavius glanced over at Lotte, weighing and judging her. "No, I don't think so."
"No. Are there deer in the nearby forest?"
"Why wouldn't there be?" Octavius demanded.
"Hunting too much. I've heard many large towns have its nobles clearing out too much of the forest at a time."
"Even if we did, that'd make it hard to find a doe or buck, not impossible. I'm not going to make it easy for you. But I'll start easy. Hit each target in turn. Hit it at all."
Lotte did more than that. She drew in a single smooth motion, and took the moment she had to aim, since there was no time limit. She loosed a first, second, third, fourth, and fifth arrow, hitting in the center ring each time, painted bright red.
"Well, you at least know how to use a bow. That's good," Octavius said. "Now, one, two, five, four, one, three, two. If you run out of arrows, I'll let you go and grab 'em up."
Lotte lost track of time, just a little. There weren't that many rounds, but Octavius kept on adding new rules, until he was calling out numbers and then counting down before Lotte had to loose her arrow. If she took too long, he'd call that she'd missed. He only had to call a few times, and while she didn't always hit the centermost ring on the targets, she always got close.
Octavius was frowning, muttering to himself, and she felt that her consistency was probably more concerning for him than anything else. She was consistently getting the targets she wanted, and for all the importance of snap-shots, especially against fleeing animals… ultimately if you couldn't hit someone with your first arrow, then you'd probably lost them.
Animals, at least. Humans tended to have different instincts, and far less skill at running away.
Finally Octavius sighed. "You're pretty good. You could use some more practice with hitting fast, and I saw that they were all hunting arrows. You should see what the soldiers use, when they slaughter people like you and I."
Lotte recognized it for the extended hand it was. Octavius was acknowledging both of them as somehow the same.
"I will," Lotte admitted. "So, should I prepare to hunt?" She turned to walk over and retrieve all of her arrows, since she'd need them soon.
"You should. Do you have questions?"
"What will I be given to carry the deer back?"
"You can have a sledge, I suppose." Octavius shrugged when Lotte turned to look at him. "But ultimately you need to do this on your own. What good is a hunter who needs help?"
"The wolf doesn't hunt alone, but in packs," Lotte said, repeating a common saying of Wilfhuld.
"Don't you dare mention the words of that bastard to me!" Octavius snarled, his good mood evaporating entirely as he charged towards Lotte, teeth bared. Lotte backed up a moment, almost going for her knife before she thought better of it. Her heart was racing, and she kept her distance.
Octavius was snarling, and not metaphorically. It sounded exactly like the wolves Lotte had heard, once in a while.
She winced, still ready to draw her bow and loose it, as he stood and stared at her.
"That bastard betrayed us, all of us, and your kind as well, and all of our kind." Octavius said, his voice starting to lose some of that harshness. For a moment, his eyes had flashed yellow, and Lotte had seen long canines. But now he looked like he could be any other human.
He wasn't, though.
But Lotte wondered about that. What could be hidden easily, and what couldn't?
"I'm sorry for mentioning Wilfhuld," Lotte said.
"You're remarkably ignorant for one of the snakes that always claims to be the true protector of Beastfolk religion."
Lotte didn't know what to say to that, so she said nothing at all, just glancing back towards Lisbeth… who had her pipe out, and had probably been just moments from trying to call a swarm of rats to stop Octavius.
"What's the challenge?"
"Find the most impressive single animal you can and bring it down. The faster you do so and return it to the walls, the better, but I expect you to gut and skin it yourself. A hunter who can't do their own job is useless."
Lotte nodded.
"Are you useless?"
"No," Lotte insisted.
"Then come on. There's hours to go before you come back with a rabbit you hypnotized into obeying your whims and the hope I'll be lenient."
He was a--
Octavius strode off.
"I don't like him," Lisbeth said.
"Can you… keep an eye on him?" Lotte felt nervous to ask it, but it was a lovely day, cool enough for a morning. It would be a perfect opportunity, if Octavius wasn't actually running ahead of her, scaring away all the game just to see what she did. If Lisbeth was there, perhaps he would be held back and stay in place to wait for Lotte. Or perhaps he'd go back inside, since he probably had duties.
Lotte couldn't take too long to find an animal to kill, but she also couldn't pick the first sickly doe she found.
This would be an interesting challenge, like the last day before it grew too cold and icy to hunt safely, desperately stalking the field for just a little bit more for the winter.
Octavius led them outside the walls, and indicated where he'd be waiting. He had a stick and a knife, which suggested to Lotte that she wasn't the only person who whittled.
"Alright, then. If it's noon and you're not back, I'll leave. But if you want to show off an animal you've killed within a little of then, just come find me."
"Lisbeth will stay here," Lotte said. "To wait."
She looked down at the sledge, which she'd placed on her own back.
Well, best get to it.
******
Every forest was different. It had its own characteristics. This one was strange, with winding paths that seemed to loop back in on themselves, and noises that sounded far off, and then far too close. Lotte considered for a moment the possibility that this was a trap of some sort. Perhaps there were monsters in these woods, and Octavius hoped that she found them?
But she decided not to believe that. Instead, she slithered through the forest, being careful to make as little noise as possible. She could have used her strange camouflage ability, but so many animals navigated by their noses, more than anything else. She didn't know if that'd do any good against those.
She found a doe near a stream an hour in, but she moved on when she saw a fawn playing near it. Lotte wasn't going to kill two animals at once, not if she could help it. A buck would be a safer bet. So she slipped beneath the greenery and continued onwards. There were plenty of birds to catch, and if it was a matter of numbers she might have gone and tried to get some.
Instead, she kept on looking, nervous and uncertain. Occasionally she felt a chill, as if someone had stepped over her grave, but nothing happened after each chill. When she strained her ears, she couldn't hear even a little sign that anything was stalking her.
She kept on moving, until at last she saw it.
It wasn't in a clearing, which would have been very convenient. Instead, it was a huge buck strutting around a smaller buck. Neither had particularly impressive antlers at the moment, but that made sense. The red-brown deer looked as if either of them would make a good meal. It was all a matter of finding the right angle to hit them.
She slid through the underbrush, keeping low and upwind, as best she could. She wanted to hit the chest if she could. The stomach could cause problems, and with all the antlers, there was too great a chance that a bowshot at either of their heads would get tangled or not hit quite right.
No, there was an exact angle the shot should go in, if Lotte wanted to kill the beast with the minimum of pain and suffering. Even then, she wasn't going to pretend it wouldn't hurt them. In fact, she was going to kill one of those two animals.
She shifted, not quite drawing her bow at the moment. She needed a good shot. The larger of the two was facing away from her, making the angle to hit the lungs, the heart, the chest cavity in general, very, very iffy. She needed the beast to turn just right. If she shot it now, there was a good chance it'd be wounded and escape.
She could chase after it, and perhaps if she kept going long enough she'd catch it as it died. By that point, it'd be hot from running, and probably have injured itself. Or it could escape, injured and marked but still alive.
Lotte waited. She barely breathed.
Sunlight streamed through the trees. The animals snorted and made noises not all that different to the ones Lotte made when she was out and about. The animal turned, but didn't quite see her, facing her way head on, but eyes averted to the left, seeing something other than her.
Lotte heard the flap of wings, and knew what had distracted him.
She loosed the arrow, and watched as it soared through the air and punched into the buck's chest. The other one turned to flee, screaming in panic, while the wounded animal turned.
Gore spilled on the ground in flowing rivers as it tried to flee. The buck was dying, and fast, but it almost got out of sight before it collapsed, keening in agony. Lotte watched it all with experienced eyes. It was a better death than he might have gotten, but worse than he hoped. No doubt if he was more sure of his shot, he could have hit the brain, the seat of the soul, and more quickly sent it on to its afterlife.
The animal was nothing then, laying there. It died quickly, all things considered, in pain, but not pain which stuck to its soul, its bones, its heart. No, it died as it had lived. Lotte smiled, faintly, the scent of blood and organs ripe even with the cool spring morning air. Lotte would have to hurry, but it was a simple process.
Lotte considered getting rid of the guts. It was a matter of taste which of them were any good, and either way they encouraged hunters to either get rid of them or get them out of the body and separate fast. So Lotte took the bags she'd been given and began to skin it. It was a dirty process. She got in with her knife, making careful cuts, trying to skin it well.
There was an art to it, and one that had its own sort of philosophy. Perhaps the Gods meant something about the world that the easiest way to begin was to carefully open it up from its… hind quarters, to carefully spread its pelvis and expose that meat, before slicing down from the top, with gentle moves, to get through hide and nothing else, until the two cuts met in the middle. Then it was a matter of sawing--and Lotte wished she had something other than a knife, but she labored at it long enough--through the pelvis, opening everything up. It was bloody, but not as gory as people imagined, not this early. You preserved the stomach, you preserved the penis (some people thought it had medicinal properties, and what was Lotte to say about that), you made sure everything survived even if you had to get blood on your hands to do it.
There was an art to that, and there was a strange magic to the moments when Lotte opened up a deer, its anatomy suddenly no mystery at all. Its mysterious and odd organs at least no mystery to eat.
(Its heart, carefully set aside, a delicacy not to be mishandled or nicked, but to be carefully and cleanly removed. Liver too, and kidneys, all to be kept and treated separately from the rest of the guts.)
At the end of it, the guts were just laying there, like a bucket full of meals, and from there it was easy to tear them out, slice away the linings holding them in and begin to segment it out.
Lotte didn't wipe her brow, because she wasn't stupid and didn't want blood in her eyes. It'd happened before, because the road to not being stupid went through a lot of stupidity.
Finally, everything was ready for transport.
******
"Huh," Octavius said to the panting Lotte. She'd had trouble getting it back, her tail getting in the way, but she'd made it, and now it was all before him, complete with all of the guts to do with as he wished. "You really did get it, and that's not bad at all. Just have to prepare all the rest of the meat. But this is a meal, certainly. You even saved the guts, and those are delicious on a full moon."
"A full moon? When you transform?" Lotte asked.
"Yes, of course. What else could I mean?" Octavius looked at Lotte with something between disgust and pride. "You're… worthy to meet with the matriarch, as long as you go in without weapons. I am sure she'll have time for you. Probably."
Octavius frowned, looking down at the deer. "What do you even want to see her about?"
"I wanted to know about the… conflict in this town. I'm new, and so I know nothing about it."
Lisbeth nodded along, staring at the carcass, as if she hadn't expected it. Lotte didn't know what to think about that.
"Ah, interesting." Octavius frowned, clearly thinking for a second before adding, "Have you considered getting involved? We'd never hire adventurers, of course." Octavius grinned, though without it reaching his eyes. "But perhaps you could involve yourself? It wouldn't be without reward. And we could always use the help."
Lotte bit her lip. "We'll see."
********
Lotte had expected to enter the compound itself. Instead, she waited outside it… in fact, outside the walls of the town. Lisbeth had sidled up close to her, and was frowning thoughtfully. "You're very good at hunting," Lisbeth said.
She hadn't seen Lotte, but that was a good enough guess.
"I had to survive off of it. But there are better hunters out there." Lotte was also doing something very simple. She'd snuck up on a single buck, something she'd done multiple times every year since she was not even quite a teenager. She'd then killed it, gutted it, and taken it back to hopefully be eaten.
Nothing about that was unusual or special, truly.
"Maybe. How often did you hunt?"
"As often as made sense. I wasn't going to clear out a forest for money, but when I could sell or barter a little extra, I did." Lotte thought of the strange feeling, of going door to door, of passing on the deer penis to a local woman who swore by it as a healing substance, of showing off a deer's liver or the fatty flank of an overfed summer bird, and getting back cures and a turn at the grindstone, water and dried fruits from several towns over.
"That's it then. It's the consistency, right?" Lisbeth asked. "All I do is play an instrument all the time. That's it. But being able to make them do what I want, and doing it again and again, that's very hard."
Lotte knew that, but it was hard to imagine it as anything other than typical when her failure to catch something could mean a lean week.
"I suppose."
"So, what do you think this matriarch is like?" Lisbeth asked, her eyes bright, her ears perked up, listening for her no doubt.
"Strong, bold. She'd have to be," Lotte pointed out, considering what she had to face. Werewolves had to be fierce and dangerous, at least ones from a clan known for its prowess.
"Thank you for the compliments, dear, but I prefer smart and cunning," a voice said, to Lotte's right. Lotte jumped up, stomach churning, as the woman seemed to appear from the walls itself. "Octavius knows far too little about tact."
The woman looked almost like she was carved out of wood, dressed in breeches, hose, and green hunter's garb, but with a hard, gravelly face. Her hair was almost entirely white, contrasting with eyes that were a blue that didn't quite seem real. It was an impossible blue, of the sort that nature could never have held. Lotte looked away from her, just a little, to focus on the knife at her belt, and the itching feeling against Lotte's scales.
She didn't know what that was about, but something about the woman set her off in some small way.
"Where did you come from?" Lisbeth asked, looking around.
"The wall, which is a sort of mirror if you know how." She smirked, seemingly well aware that this wasn't any answer at all. The wall looked solid enough.
It was magic, of course, but that didn't explain anything.
"Ah. So, some sort of priestly magic?" Lisbeth asked.
"Something like that. Do you really wish to know?"
"Yes," Lotte said.
"My name is Livia, matriarch of this Clan, great-great-great-great-grandmother was Alanqa herself."
"Alanqa?"
"Our moon goddess, our greatest champion. She was a goddess then, but--"
She was descended from a demigod, which probably explained the very slight itching. That many generations ago, the power had to be guttering, but apparently not guttering that much, if she could walk through walls.
"Oh," Lotte said. "I was curious why… why the name of the wolf God made him so angry?"
"Justly angry. We were once his creations, his children, guarding the world of weak humans from the monsters of a thousand generations ago. But when we asked for more, when humans built cities and we begged to be part of that, He declared that this was no teamlike sentiment. We should rot and starve at the edge of the world for people who spit on us and kicked us like we were dogs, and not wolves." She was speaking quietly, but with fervor that made it all feel far more serious and even dangerous than if she was screaming.
No, Lotte leaned in and listened.
"We asked, again and again. We tried to move clans into the cities, we tried to ask for anything. We tried, and when there was no choice, we decided to take what belonged to us." She grinned. "We were monster tamers and monster slayers. Without us, their precious cities were vulnerable. We refused to kill monsters unless we were treated better. Some of us conquered towns, others did not. It was a mess."
"Then the Gods cracked down?" Lisbeth guessed, licking her lips nervously, nose twitching.
"Yes. But our champion, Alanqa, became a Goddess and saved us from destruction. The Gods would have slaughtered us down to our children--"
Lotte couldn't believe that, not about the Gods she'd worshipped all her life. Even the most bloodthirsty offered second or third chances. Yet at the same time, she could imagine Wilfhuld, so well known for his emphasis on working together even if it made sacrifices, neglecting his creations in favor of the whole. The wolf pack was supposed to protect every wolf in it. Humans, though, weren't like that at all. They sacrificed for the whole, and other Gods were the ones that told humanity: if you sacrifice four of a group for the lives of the other six, does that truly make you a hero?
"But?" Lotte asked, after the pause stretched on too long.
"Alanqa was strong enough to protect us, with the help of the Forgotten God. Which, I suppose, is where you come in, lamia. I was given dreams last night that you would arrive."
This was news to Lotte, because she had only really decided to go here this morning. She'd been torn between two different families she wanted to hear from. "O-oh." Lotte swallowed.
"No details, just that a hunter would probably arrive soon, and that he was important."
Lisbeth looked over at Lotte, a little confused. "You… got some details wrong, I suppose?"
"I might have." Livia shrugs. "But I ask: what is it that you wish to know? Religion?"
"The argument. The struggle. Why do you fight so with another family?" Lotte asked it, feeling oddly like an actor in a mummer's play.
"It is simple. We fought before, and have disagreed for generations. But ten years ago, we sought to heal our differences. The Mondzyks had a son of their latest leader, and I had a granddaughter. They didn't love each other, but we had them meet, and they didn't hate each other either. By combining our two lineages in a single matrimony, we could at last bury the dead bones of old grudges. But they alit into new mutiny and strife, starting when that son fell in love with some… ratfolk serving man." She wrinkled her nose. "That would seem to be no problem. We would prefer love, we are not cold-blooded, but why couldn't they still marry?"
Lotte understood that very well. Noble marriages, and plenty of marriages even among the basest peasant, weren't about love. Lotte wasn't made to think these sorts of ways, but she knew that a noble would have seen no problem at all with marrying someone while seeing someone else on the side. Lotte couldn't imagine doing it: she'd want to marry someone she'd love and be loyal to for the rest of her life. But she knew it wasn't uncommon.
"But… he refused to marry?" Lisbeth guessed.
"Yes. And she supported him, and tempers got out of hand. People died, a lamia priest tried to resolve it by helping all three of them run away. The story grows murky, but all of them die, thanks to the lies and the poison of that priest. Which is why your kind are not welcome in this house, usually." She gestures back, beyond the gate, in the direction of the compound. "Lest they destroy more young lives in well meaning deceptions and bold tricks. No, it is clear that this feud can end in only one way. Not in the blood of the marriage bed, but in the blood on the streets. Perhaps not today: if there is news that we will be watched, it'd be folly to act now. But even without the grudge, they wish to bring humans in, filthy murderers that they are, and make deals with a thousand mercantile fashions. We wish to strengthen ourselves against the coming persecution, against the massacres that will no doubt come."
Her voice grew even quieter. It was clear if there was one thing she cared about more than the fight with the Mondzyks, it was the safety of this town. Was she even wrong? Lotte knew very little about how beastfolk were treated, but even the little she knew suggested that slaughter wasn't impossible. If the hidden town was discovered, would it simply be accepted, or would there be fire and blood?
Lotte felt sick, thinking about it.
Whose side was she supposed to be on?
Lisbeth seemed to see it on Lotte's face.
Livia was watching both of them. "Neither of you are from around here, I gather?"
"No," Lotte said. "I don't know anyone."
"To be fair, you've not introduced yourselves, either." Livia smirked. "Though Octavius has mentioned your names. Interesting names, truly. I wonder what the Forgotten God has in store for you? I have suspicions, but then I am old. All that I have left are suspicions." She stepped forward, looking at once ancient and startlingly young. "So that's what I ask. You came here for a reason. You're not talking to me out of simple curiosity."
"I wondered if I could help," Lotte began, face hot. "But maybe that's a bad idea, when…"
"When a lamia already hurt us so much in the name of helping? It might be. But if you do want to help… you're a good hunter, that much is clear. If we contracted you to do some hunting for us, it'd leave us with more people available for… other matters, whatever they might be. Consider it. And before you answer… you brough us a deer. It was part of the test, but we would like give you a gift. Do you enjoy deer brains?"
"Of course," Lotte said, glancing over at Lisbeth, who looked ill at the prospect. Brains had a texture a little like eggs, and a softness that made them enjoyable… but they also lacked much flavor on their own.
"Our cooks could prepare brains fried with eggs, and a side of the kidneys you brought us, as a treat. You did provide quite a large buck." She looked delighted, and transformed, by the prospect of showing off her family's cooks, or perhaps at the thought of winning Lotte's loyalty. Maybe she really liked food?
Either way, there was no other choice but to accept and enjoy the food. And perhaps try to convince Lisbeth about what she was missing.
"You'll be at the meeting this evening?" Livia asked, as they walked towards the compound to receieve the food.
"Yes. Do you know what it'll be about?"
"Blood, always blood."
******
If it was blood that would be witnessed, there was quite a crowd for it, worse than an execution in this wonder stories of miraculous escapes by the just and virtuous.
Hundreds of beastfolk were all pressed together in the central square. Naja was looking increasingly nervous, as some of the only humans there. Even then, most of the ones who looked human were standing with the werewolf clan, which seemed a good indication of whether or not they were human.
It wasn't comforting to Lotte, but she--thinking along the lines of loyalties and understanding--suspected that given enough time it would be. As it were, the crowd made a stunning amount of noise, despite nobody screaming. Just a wave of people.
The wave parted for armed and armored guards, goatfolk and bullfolk and werewolves and more, huge and imposing figures and smaller ones that look fast enough to gut a man before he had time to blink. Then, at the end of it, a tall woman with skin the color of damp earth. She didn't have hair on her head at all, and this bald, dark-skinned woman had a cat's yellow eyes and a yellow furred tail that shifted one way and the next as she moved.
Lotte had no idea what sort of -folk she was.
But she looked as if she could quite possibly beat Lotte to death with one hand behind her back. She was well-muscled, well-armored, and carrying a spear. She slammed it into the cobblestones and said. "Here ye, here ye! As the Sheriff of this town, I am here to make an announcement, enforced by the local council!"
The crowd hushed, everyone staring at her.
"This discord, this affray, can not continue. Should anyone from either family, the Schultes and the Mondzyks, break the truce by word or deed, whether through the employment of mercenaries, poison, assassins… any way at all to cause harm to any other family or their allies, the life of they who did it will be forfeit. Moreover, the family itself shall pay ten thousand silver Pfin for each such violation. Should any family violate these rules a second time, they shall be exiled if they are found guilty!" Her voice was a deep rumble.
Naja was staring as if she'd seen an illusion.
"This I declare, as Yibanathi of the South, Sheriff of Allswell! This violence has to end, or I will end it personally."
She looked, from the two camps, the largest and most prominent in the town. The feather-headed men and women in sober, careful garb, and the hunters and warriors dressed as if they were an hour from battle.
"Is that understood?"
It was heard… but Lotte didn't feel as if either side would back down.
Blood? No, this seemed like it'd only end in a massacre.
But what does Lotte do?
[] Try talking with the lamia priests. Perhaps they can no longer forge a peace, but surely there's something they can do about this… travesty?
[] Take up the offers of the Mondzyks, and hunt for them. Perhaps by getting closer to them, Lotte can find a way to dim the fires of their hatred.
[] Perhaps she should visit the Schultes as well, to see what… what their side of the story is. After all, if they're a leading family, can they really be as culpable as it seems?
[] Yibanathi probably doesn't need the help, but at the same time, as an adventurer perhaps Lotte has a duty to go to her and talk about the problems and offer to get involved in any way she sees fit.
[] Write-in.
******
A/N: This Quest, as with Fallout: Kansas City, is going to be going on hiatus in favor of me trying to actually do some work on my Master's Thesis, now that quarantine has led to a 'words per week' count barely in the triple digits. I still do hope you enjoyed this update, and I do look forward to returning to this Quest once I, like.
Actually make some real and measurable progress?
