Oregano 18th, 50th year under king Railor

Père and Mère,

I know it’s only been 4 weeks since I left, but it feels like it’s been ages. I miss you guys a lot, especially mom’s sweet rolls! I can almost smell them if I focus hard enough. How is the bakery going? Have you been receiving my wages? Working for the princess hasn’t been too bad. She’s been pretty good this week, rewarding my work by petting me. Oh, and the estate! The summer flowers in the courtyard are blooming so wonderfully, and they’re not even in season yet! I could just sit there for hours. I’m making plenty of friends with the other staff, too. The maids and helpers are all so nice, and always help me when they can, so don’t worry about me not being able to do things, because I’m doing just fine.

Love,                               

Petit                 

Petit dropped the reed pen on the hard wood table, hearing it clattering against his letter, his arms sore from the effort of writing. When the pen was upright, it was as tall as he was, possibly a bit shorter. He brushed his hair out of his face, moving the messy brown locks out of the way to clear his view. He put his hands on his hips and inspected his work, making sure his ‘i’s were dotted, his ‘t’s crossed, and his writing big enough that a normal person could read it, especially someone like his parents, whose vision seemed to get exponentially worse with age. Reading back the letter, he felt a twinge of guilt. He had lied about the princess’ behavior. In truth, she was terrible, much worse than usual, but he didn’t want his parents to worry. Her teasing was incessant, her requests bordering on sadistic. His only reprieve lately had been writing his weekly letter, which he was permitted to do in private, an agreement between the two of them that she had thankfully not yet violated. Satisfied with his work, he kicked his pen off the paper and began the torturous process of inserting the letter into an envelope.

It wasn’t that the paper was particularly heavy, it was reasonably light. It was simply the size. Since Petit stood at a mere three inches tall, it was too long for him to put his hand on either side, so he had to walk back and forth, tucking the individual sides in. He knew Enrika, one of the more personable maids, would have been happy to help, but firstly, he had no idea where she was, and secondly, he was fairly certain she had eaten ritberries recently, and he wanted to stay far away from her until they’d left her system, as ritberries were known to cause bad gas.

Petit finished tapping the top corners in, careful to avoid a paper cut, and folded the mouth of the envelope shut, leaving the letter to be properly stamped and sent by the mail attendant. He made his way off the intricately carved table, using the hanging tassels of the red and gold patterned tablecloth to reduce the distance of his fall, a trick he had picked up in his twenty years at his tiny stature. The hard wooden floors immediately cooling his bare feet as he landed on it with a soft thud. He skittered across the floor and left the room by crawling under the door.

He dusted off his worn clothes. The clothes he was wearing were still holding strong today, with the exception of a single strip of ragged cloth, which dragged behind his leg. He made a mental note to patch that up at his earliest convenience, this being his only set of clothes. Had he known before he would not be given a uniform, or at least new attire, he would have brought more clothes with him from home. The best he got in terms of new clothing was a few scraps from the seamstress when she was feeling compassionate.

With the stride of someone who knew their way around, and the haste of someone who was disinclined to being stepped on, he made his way to the dining hall, where he knew Madam Bleming was waiting for him. He passed the towering ovular windows, which stretched to the arching ceiling and overlooked the lush green courtyard and framed the winding stream that flowed through the property. He made his way through the mazelike corridors, using the number of doors per hallway as a guide. In fact, he had memorized it. To get to the dining hall from the study, the order was: two, three, two, one. Naturally, it would be the opposite order if he were going the other way.

He entered the dining hall. As it usually was, the hall was mostly empty. There was nothing but a long table full of food, with Cortesia herself sitting at the head. In the far corner was the head maid, Sasha, her head hung low, waiting to serve the princess’ whims. Cortesia’s long blond locks draped across the back of the velvet chair, and her piercing green eyes followed Petit on his approach. She was wearing a green morning gown that hung loosely down to her ankles. Per his normal routine, he pulled himself up a thread that hung off the edge of the table and climbed atop it’s surface. He noted the food before him, pounds and pounds of the stuff, all for one person. The food was pristine, spotless, cooked to perfection. Fruit, ham, breakfast cakes, eggs, tarts, rolls, bacon, pudding, bread, covered almost every inch of the table. The loaves of bread, appearing softer than anything his parents could have made; drink at every turn, shining bottles filled to the brim with aged wine.

The twenty-year-old princess gleefully leered at him as he made his way towards her, watching intently as he navigated the field of food before him, giggling softly whenever he stumbled or lost his footing. He sat cross-legged in front of her while she ate, hesitantly grabbing morsels of food when he could. It was usually at this point when she would request something of him. What will it be this time? He wondered. It had been many things before. Sometimes it was bringing her an item, be it a spice dish, cloth, or food that was at the exact opposite end of the table. Other times, it would be menial tasks. One time in particular, she had him climb in a bowl of fruit before pretending like she was going to eat him. Generally, the tasks were not out of her convenience, as he had been led to believe when he took the job, but out of some sort of unusual entertainment.

“Pet,” Petit winced at her title of him, “This bread is so crisp, would you be so kind as to clean off the crumbs for me?” The princess requested, devious intent lurking behind her regal demeanor and colorful language and a toothy grin stretched across her face.

That was a new one. Her ear-to-ear smile told him she was quite proud of this one, too. The both of them knew very well that she could just lick her lips, and that she was simply entertaining herself. She leaned forward in her chair, resting her chin on the table. She had very full pink lips, and at this distance he could make out every detail, every muscle twitch, the subtle curl in her lips that formed her smile. Her breath was hot against his body, and moist enough that it clung to his arms. He looked up at her once again into those big green eyes, alight with anticipation. Apprehensively, he stuck out a hand, and with a sort of sweeping movement, he dusted the bits off her lips. The corners of her mouth were more dense, taking a few hard sweeps to clear completely. He took a closer look to inspect his work, knowing well that if he missed a spot, she’d make him do something else. This task was reasonably tame, but that just made him suspicious that she’d try something.

“Gotta teach you new tricks, don’t I, Pet? Best to keep you on your toes.” She teased, emphasizing her nickname for him. Her warm breath washed over Petit more as she spoke, carrying the floral scent of wine. He watched her tongue move about within her mouth, bulging her lips and probing her teeth. “Seems there is something stuck in my teeth, would you be a dear and take it out?” He was taken aback by the new unpleasant request - wiping crumbs off her lips was one thing, but putting his hands into her mouth was something he wanted to avoid at any cost. On many occasions, the princess had teased him with being eaten, so often that, at times, he had almost started to believe she might actually do it.

“It’s just this piece right here, I just… can’t… get it,” The princess said, using her tongue to point to where the annoyance was. In the spot she had pointed out, a fiber of ham was wedged between her pearly-white canines. Petit stood there trying to find his words. He looked at the princess as she wore the same bratty grin she always had when teasing him.

“What’s the hold up, your princess is waiting,” she further mocked, “I’d hate to have to stop supporting that little bakery of yours.” Petit exhaled deeply. Of course she’d pull that card, she knew his family’s business struggles.

“Okay” he said, taking a step toward the princess’ mouth.

Cortesia closed her mouth and sat up. “Now, now, is that any way to address royalty?” She said, clearly savoring the opportunity to strike down at her servant.

He clenched his fist. “Yes, my princess” he corrected, swallowing his pride. The princess looked satisfied with his answer, and lowered her open mouth back down, almost touching the table. Petit reached out a hand, trying to avoid touching her lips. The air, even at this point in her mouth, was noticeably more humid. Trying to minimize contact with the morsel, Petit reached for it, but it was just out of his reach. he stopped, noticing the princess’ gaping mouth as her teeth seemed to get higher. She’s gonna make me get in her mouth, Petit feared. Taking a deep breath and steeling his mind, he pushed himself up, finding his footing against her bottom teeth. The enamel was hard on his limbs but provided good leverage for him to continue pulling the food out.

The piece of ham was between her front teeth, directly in front of Petit’s head. Grabbing the strand of meat, he tugged at it, trying not to lose his balance. With relative ease, the morsel dislodged, and he tossed it out of her mouth behind him.

“Got it,” Petit announced. He turned his head, ready to get out of the wretched mouth, and saw that he was no longer over the table. Before he could get a word out, or even think, Cortesia swung her head back, causing him to fall into her cavernous maw.

“Oops,” The princess giggled sarcastically. It was cramped, dark, and stank of her breakfast. Petit was coated with saliva as he was pushed around by her powerful tongue and swished about in her cheeks.

The wet interior grew in pressure, so much so that it made Petit’s ears hurt, until suddenly, Petit saw light flood his surroundings as the pressure released, a powerful burst of wind shooting him out of the princess’ mouth. He didn’t spend even a second in the air, before he crash landed into a bowl of azureberries, his head directly puncturing one and covering him in its juices. Petit swiped away the huge berries, trying to clear room for himself, and struggled to get himself upright as he strenuously moved through the berries. The princess laughed hysterically at Petit’s struggles in the bowl, not bothering to help at all.

Regaining his posture, Petit sat up in the bowl, and watched the princess as she laughed. Back in his first days of his employment, he found her laugh comforting and pleasant, but over time his perception grew to associate it with humiliation and torment. She got a particular pleasure from watching Petit struggle to do something anyone normal could do. After some more laughter, the princess calmed herself down.

“Yuck, you taste awful, Pet,” Cortesia said, her devious grin returning. Well of course I do, I’m always on the floor! Petit thought angrily. Of course, he couldn’t say that to her. He knew it would be better to just apologize, and not give her a reason to torment him further.

“My apologies my princess,” Petit said through gritted teeth.

Cortesia looked at Petit, his head drenched in azureberry juice, and her eyes lit up again. “That’s right, I am your princess, and you want to make your princess happy, don’t you, Pet?” Cortesia asked, her devious tone returning, and once again emphasizing the demeaning nickname. Petit shuddered, knowing that she always said things like that before doing something horrible. “Y-yes, princess,” Petit said.

“Good,” Cortesia said, grabbing a white bowl in front of her. “Take off those clothes,” she commanded.

“What?”

“Those rags look terrible, lose ‘em,” she demanded. And whose fault is that? Petit silently remarked. Knowing he couldn’t protest, he took off his worn shirt and pants, leaving him nude except for his underwear, the only part of his outfit that had not needed extensive repair. He had a very athletic build, earned from doing strenuous exercise just to stay alive, but there was still a feeling of embarrassment in being so helpless to her gaze. Cortesia reached for Petit, taking her time, knowing he wouldn’t run away. She lifted the tiny man to her face.

“You know, pet, I had this wonderful full body massage this morning,” Cortesia recollected aloud.

“… Oh, that’s nice, I guess?” Pet replied, unsure why she was referencing this.

“It was nice, but it was missing something. They got every inch of my body so nicely, but you know what? They neglected my poor tongue!” Cortesia complained in a fake sad voice. Petit was still a bit confused on what she was going to do, and why he had to take off his clothes. As she said before, he tasted awful, so she probably wouldn’t want to go putting him back in her mouth.

Without warning, the princess nonchalantly dropped Petit in the bowl below. He splashed into the thick substance, some entering his mouth tasting something sweet with a vanilla hint to it. It was pudding! He waded in the thick liquid, trying to keep his head above.

Before he could acclimate to the situation, the princess scooped up Petit in her spoon, his body fully coated in the thick pudding. His legs dangled off the spoon, droplets of the substance falling onto the table.

“Would you be so kind as to give my tongue a nice message, so it’s not left out?” The princess asked.  Petit was at a loss for words, mouth agape. Cortesia slowly brought the pudding covered boy back into her mouth, savoring every second of seeing his little shocked face. She wrapped her lips around the head of the spoon, and slowly drew it out, leaving it clean, and empty, with Petit in her mouth once more.

“Mmmm...” Petit felt her moan reverberate around him from inside Cortesia’s mouth. Again, she swished him around her mouth savoring his new flavor. If there was anything in here to be grateful for, it was that her tongue and spit cleaned his body of the pudding. Cortesia’s tongue sprang up, pushing Petit against the top of her mouth, as she swallowed the sweet fluid.

With the pudding swallowed, her tongue relaxed, allowing Petit to move more freely in the cramped space. He waited for her to do something, for his torment to continue, but he was left in an eerie calm. After about a minute passed, Cortesia’s tongue started to move about. He realized; she actually wanted him to massage her tongue. The thought was obscene to him, but if it meant getting out of her mouth, he had to do it.

He pushed his hands against the large tongue, the same way a masseuse would. She stopped moving, his efforts seeming to be satisfactory for the moment. He continuously massaged the spongy appendage, accompanied by the princess’ moans and hums. She’s making these sounds to make me uncomfortable, no doubt, he thought.

Petit quickly found himself entirely coated in Cortesia’s thick saliva as he worked. This was taking a while. His surroundings smelled of her breakfast. Suddenly, the tongue sprang to life, and pushed him out of the princess’ mouth. He slid off the tongue, and with a wet ‘splat’, he landed on her plate, in a small puddle of spit. Thankfully, she had done Petit the small mercy of holding her head low, so as to avoid injuring her favorite pet. He spat and wiped away the princess’ saliva, some getting in his own mouth despite his best attempt to keep it out. Above, he could see the princess, wearing that same smug grin that never seemed to leave her when he was around.

She let out a satisfied sigh. “What a great way to start my morning. You did well today, Pet, I might just have you do that again soon,” Cortesia said, reaching for more pudding. Petit laid back down in the saliva puddle, feeling totally defeated. This is still just breakfast, I’ve still got the whole day with this brat, he thought. “Now I’ve got a busy day, so get dressed, Pet.” The princess instructed, popping a few more azureberries in her mouth. Petit slowly stood up, but slipped on the saliva, falling against the princess’ half-eaten muffin.

The princess again snickered at his stumble, and tossed another berry in her mouth. Petit felt his face become hot with embarrassment. He wanted to hit something, he wanted to berate her, but he knew well that doing either would do him no good. He grabbed a bit of the muffin and ate a few handfuls. He tried to move his thoughts to the flavor to calm his nerves. It was good, something he figured his parents could have made. Once he had eaten enough to hold him over, he trudged back to his clothes and put them back on. The princess watched him get dressed, not wanting to miss any of his blunders. When he was done, she stood up from the table.

Cortesia picked him up and went on with their routine, which just made him feel even more humiliated, that she could do that and continue like it was nothing. Cortesia, followed by Sasha, took Petit to her royal chambers. Cortesia held him in her palm, stroking his head with her opposite finger. Once in her room, the princess set him down on her bed, and, facing away from him, removed her morning gown, carelessly revealing her nude form to Petit. Weeks ago, when he would see her, be it a parade or some kind of event, he thought there were none more beautiful than her. Her skin was flawless, her figure angelic, every facet of her pristine and without fault. Yet, after four weeks of being tormented and treated like a pet, seeing her ass filled him with nothing but distain. The princess had yet to show him her womanhood though, saying she ‘wanted to save some things for later’. She got changed into a more fanciful dress, before having Petit decorate her nails, while Sasha braided her hair. Clearly, however, the princess was not in the most amicable of moods, as she was consistently passive-aggressive to the poor woman, and had her redo her work several times.

“Pet,” she had spoken while he was filing her nails to a perfect point, “How do I look?” Glaring at her reflection in the mirror.

Reluctantly, he appealed to her vanity. “Beautiful, princess,” he had replied, “the most beautiful there ever was.” She seemed to enjoy hearing this.

When she was finally satisfied, with the maids work, she and Petit moved to the study, and she began attending to her main work - reading letters. These were letters that were sent to her from other nobles, people of importance, and the common folk of the region.

Petit was not permitted to read these letters. She had told him it was for ‘confidentiality’, but he didn’t believe she actually cared about that. After all, she would often loudly complain to her audience of one about her sisters’ regions, and how she could have handled them better. Petit’s only task at this point in the day was sitting on Cortesia’s armrest as she continuously stroked his head with her thumb. He had initially been very vocal about his disdain for this, but it did nothing but embolden her to continue, remarking on how even the best of pets had to be trained. She idly continued stroking his hair, tousling his already messy mop. He couldn’t see what she was writing from his position, but he could generally tell what she was doing. Sometimes she wrote a response, sometimes she simply crumpled the paper and tossed it, and on a rare occasion, she would store it for later. It made Petit sick – all she ever did was torment him and barely work, and yet she lived in the lap of luxury, while he worked nearly every day of his life, and the only real difference between them was how they were born. And, of course, that she was a complete brat.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when he noticed her pets waver in speed, and then stop. He looked up at her, confused, but all he was given was a shooing gesture with no explanation. Perhaps a very important letter, something she didn’t want him to see? Whatever the reason, it was an opportunity for a bit more time alone, which was always preferable to being around her. Besides, he would likely never get an answer out of her, so what was the use in prying? He got down from the chair and made his way under the doorway. Petit wandered the empty hallways, hoping to find someone to help draw him a bath, so he could wash the princess’ saliva off him. Currently, he reeked of spit, breakfast, and pudding, a constant reminder of the morning’s events that he would prefer to forget and move on from. A warm bath would do him nicely for when the princess went to seek entertainment through him more. On the way, he was reminded of the torn cloth dragging behind him. He sighed. I should just make new ones when I get the chance, he realized.

Continuing down the hallway, he caught a glimpse of the black scullery maid uniform, which extended almost to the floor, completely covering the wearer’s bottom half. It was Enrika, he recognized her short black hair that often poked out from under the cloth she wore over her head. He saw her often, as she bathed later than the other maids, and he himself couldn’t bathe until he was excused by the princess for the night, which was often quite late. He found her more approachable, since she didn’t spend much time with the other maids, and she did many outdoor tasks, where he would often spend his free time.

She was nice, but seemed to be very shy, especially when it came to her frequent gas. Whenever her scent was eluded to, she’d either go silent, look embarrassed, or swiftly exit whatever room she was in. Petit did enjoy her company, and certainly liked her better than the other maids, but he’d be lying if he denied the existence of her bad gas. Of course, everyone has problems, and it was reasonable to assume she had some sort of dietary issue relating to what the maids ate. It was a concern he was happy to ignore, if it meant having an ally, or at least someone to talk to, that wasn’t the princess.

“Hey, Enrika, down here!” Petit called to the maid.

She stopped in her tracks, looked around, and smiled seeing her small coworker. “Hey, Petit,” Enrika chirped, approaching him.

There was a faint, but foul sent in the area, but he chose not to mention it. “Hey, could you start up a bath for me?” Petit requested. “Got messy during breakfast.”

“Sure thing.” Enrika gingerly scooped up Petit, careful not to hurt him. She cupped her hands around him, and held him close to her chest. “So, tell me, what was it today?” Enrika asked noticing how filthy he was so early in the day.

“Just breakfast.”

“Ugh, did she have you feed her again?”

“Something like that” Petit dismissed. They both knew they couldn’t outright insult the princess, that would lead to them being fired, but they both silently understood each other’s thoughts on the matter.

Enrika descended the stairs, and made her way into the bathing quarters. The estate had a fantastic supply of freshwater, thanks to the stream that ran through the courtyard. The employees’ bath itself, while large, was rather drab. The princess had her own personal bathhouse out in the courtyard, so she felt no need to decorate it.

The maid knelt down, setting Petit down beside her on the stone floor. Due to his small size, it was safer for him to have his own bath, in the form of a cooking pot that was usually tucked in the corner. However, if there was one benefit to such a sad accommodation, it was that his pot could be placed above the fireplace, allowing him to enjoy a heated bath. The interior fireplaces were thankfully filled with a special type of wood from the Tyldaen North, known as Merriwood, which would slowly burn for extended periods of time, emanating a sweet fragrance instead of smoke.

Enrika grabbed the pot, and left to the bathing quarters, out of Petit’s sight. When she returned, the pot was filled with water. She bent her knees, squatting down as she carefully set it down atop the fireplace, accidentally spilling a few droplets here and there.

“There you g-” Enrika paused, accidentally letting out a small fart when she was talking. Enrika froze as her face grew red.

The awful smell hit Petit hard, but he tried his best to look unphased, until the smell subsided. Using a ladder set into the side of the fireplace, he climbed up to the carapace above the mouth of the fire, and from his vantage point, jumped into the pot, splashing into the quickly warming water, fully clothed. “Aaaah, thanks Enrika, you’re the best,” He blissfully exclaimed.

“Oh, um, no problem,” Enrika regained her composure, and turned to leave.

“Could you stay for a bit? Or are you busy?”

“No, I’m not busy, just my normal chores, y’know, tending to the garden and stuff.” She idly toyed with a strand of hair that had come out from under her cloth. “What do you have going on today?”

“Just entertaining the princess, like I’ve been doing the last... four weeks.” Petit taking a moment to remember.

“I know how that is. Before you started here, she’d make us all do things like that. She’d have me constantly grab her flowers to bathe with, so I’d run and get a flower, and she’d change her mind and I’d have to run back and forth till she left the bath. It was really tiring, and really, really annoying – that’s probably nothing compared to what she does to you, though.”

Petit wanted to have some humility, and pretend he was intentionally doing some kindness to the others by handling the princess’ torment, but in all honesty, he would have much preferred having it all split up amongst the others. Instead, he just shrugged in response.

“I should go, you probably want to get some proper washing done.”

“Yeah, thanks for chatting with me, Enrika.”

         She gave a warm smile and wave as she left to return to her duties, leaving Petit to soak in his warm bath. With Enrika gone, he took off his clothes and washed until all the smell and saliva had all left his skin. He gave his clothes a quick scrub, and hung them over the handle of the pot to dry. Once he was satisfied with his cleaning, he reclined back and floated atop the warm water. He knew he couldn’t be here long, the princess would be wanting him back soon, but he could take a few more minutes to enjoy the small bit of peace in his up to this point unpleasant day.

         He knew it was time for him to get back to work. He swam to his hung-up clothes, feeling that they were dry and warm. He grabbed his clothes, tucked them under his arm, and descended to the floor. Once there, he dried himself off with a small hand towel, and put on his clean clothes.

         Petit made his way through the mansion and returned to the study, where the princess was reading what he assumed was the last of her letters. He climbed to the top of the table, using the not even noticing his arrival. Petit lightly patted her hand, knowing it’s best that people know where he is. The princess instinctively jerked away at his taps realizing it was him.

         “There’s my Pet, and you got cleaned up just for me? How sweet” she taunted gleefully. Petit saw the papers on the table, sorted into a messy pile, where most of the letters were, and a neat stack of papers facing down. The letter he had wrote was sitting behind the junk drawer. Shoot, usually Enrika can stamp it for me, but she didn’t help me this morning, Petit thought. The princess followed Petit’s gaze and reached for the letter at the corner of the table. “Oh, what’s this? I didn’t see this one.” She took the letter out of the envelope. “Aww, it’s your weekly letter, how sweet.”

“You don’t have to read that” Petit protested. He had a feeling she would do something like this eventually, so he was careful not to put something in there she wouldn’t like, but it was still a gross violation of his privacy.

“Aww, I thought you didn’t like being pet, but you said here, that you do. I guess I better pet you more often. And you like the garden, that’s so good to hear” The princess said, stroking his head with her thumb again.

“I just need it sealed–”

Cortesia lifted her finger off his head. “Now, is that how you ask your princess for a favor?”

Petit clenched his fists again. “Please, my princess, would you seal my letter?”

The princess seemed satisfied with his answer. She tucked the letter back into the envelope and stamped it with the royal seal of the region. Petit was surprised that she actually complied. “This was part of our deal when I hired you, and a princess must keep her promises.” She said, recognizing his confusion.

Cortesia swiftly stood up. “Now, this work was so boring, I’ll wait until tomorrow to respond to the rest. I think I’m due for a good while of relaxing with my favorite Pet, wouldn’t you agree?” She hovered her head over Petit, casting a shadow over him.

         The door opened, the head maid standing in the doorway. She did a curt bow, before speaking. “Madam, your lunch is served.”

Cortesia glanced back at Petit and smiled. “Good” she grabbed the stack of papers and dropped them into the maid’s hands. “Take these to my quarters, don’t read them, oh, and mail this as well,” She requested, handing over the stack of papers and Petit’s note.

“Yes, princess.” The maid took the papers and exited with another bow.

Petit could have sworn he saw a letter with his bakery’s stamp on it somewhere in the stack.

Cortesia brought him to the dining hall, and the pair sat down for lunch. She slurped down her soup, beseeching the most basic of table manners, all the while having Petit continue with his menial tasks, bringing her various items on the table.

After lunch, Petit continued playing victim to the princess’ antics. She had him carefully file her toenails while her foot’s awful smell invaded his senses. The princess seemed to particularly like him tending to her feet, especially the disgusted look he had as he kissed each toe upon its completion, as per her instructions.

Later, upon seeing one of the maids handling her laundry, she picked out a pair of her worn panties for Petit to wash by hand while she watched. During which, Petit had been repulsed by the smelly and sweaty fabric, but cleaned it nonetheless, a task that left him so exhausted he had begun to have legitimate concerns his arms would fall off.

         Then came the princess’ afternoon tea and snack time in the garden. She sat in her chair, sipping tea out of an overly adorned cup while petting Petit in her lap. He took his mind off the endless tousling of his hair by watching Enrika work out in the garden. She would consistently pause at every single flower on all the plants she passed and smell it, clearly appreciating each one’s fragrance as she watered them.

         Petit continued to watch Enrika work, until he saw a bright flash of searing light off in the distance. Cortesia jumped in her seat, and Enrika stopped watering, both shocked by the spontaneous balls of pure white, so bright that they lit up the clouds above. Cortesia anxiously stood up, gripping her servant in her fist, and looking in the direction of the light. Petit looked off in the distance, where he saw a group of 4 people running around what looked to be a hulking orc, indiscriminately swinging a massive club around, in an attempt to strike at them.

         Another flash of light, and the orc was set ablaze. It stumbled backwards, swatting at its flaming hide. It collapsed to the ground with a loud thud, attempting to roll the fire off its body. A man wielding a sword quickly ran towards the fallen beast, taking the opportunity to deliver a powerful killing blow, cleanly driving his blade into the heart of the toppled monolith. Cortesia apprehensively approached the edge of the estate property, looking at the battle, Enrika not far behind.

The man who had stabbed the beast wiped its viscera off, and cleanly slid the blade back into its hilt. The other three gathered around him, sharing in the victory. One of them drew a horn from his belt, before cheerfully sounding it, the ringing tune carrying across the air, and leaving behind a powerful silence. A crowd formed around the four, cheering and guiding them toward the estate.

         A short time passed, before the crowd arrived in the courtyard of the estate, gladly drawing opening the gates and pushing the four in.

The princess nonchalantly stuffed Petit between her breasts and pulled up the hem of her dress. She spread her arms welcomingly. “Greetings, brave adventurers! Your courage and bravery are truly a sight of the ages. Please, allow us to repay you, we offer you food and drink, and a place to sleep in my estate.”

Petit listened to her spiel. He knew this manner of speaking well, it was her ‘public speaking voice’ where she would put on a hospitable mask and speak in flowery language. Regardless of her manner of speaking, however, seeing the party in action was undoubtebly exciting. That strength, that ability, the option to go wherever you want and be loved by all was an intoxicating thought, a lifestyle Petit deeply envied.

Silently, the princess was flanked by her royal guard, gathering behind her. “Brave ones, your vigilance in the face of that beast was truly awe-inspiring. You have put an end to it’s terror over the region, and for that, to whom may I thank for your kindness unto us all?” She continued.

Petit was being hugged on all sides by Cortesia’s breasts, her dress compressing them together. He tried to stabilize himself, but the princess’ chest bounced with every step she took. He noticed her transition to her princess voice, a polite and affable sweet tone she used when he first met her, and when she was speaking to those of similar status.

“Princess, it’s an honor to meet you,” the sword-bearing male began, “I am Skewer, the leader of this party. This is our mage, Ciamon, our huntress, Faegan, and our healer, Tharus. We are of our own party, DeKirier.” Ciamon had the fiery red hair of a flame mage, and the scarlet robe to prove it. Her staff was built of solid stone, which coursed from her hands with a brilliant red. Faegan looked to be beast-kin, a human who bore beastly qualities, distantly related to the Beast King of eras long past. The huntress had high cheekbones, piercing blue eyes, massive, protruding canines, and a white, poofy tail which joyfully wagged behind her. Tharus was the shortest one of the group and had the most reclusive demeanor. He had long blue hair that poked out from under his hood. His body was shrouded in a long leather coat, and he covered almost every inch of his skin in gloves and scarves. They all took a knee as they were announced by their leader.

“Thank you, DeKirier. We would be truly delighted if you could join us for dinner at my estate.” Cortesia repeated her offer.

“It would be foolish to reject an offer from the Herbian princess herself. Allow us to first claim our bounty in town, and we will gladly accept.” The leader replied. Next to him, Faegan licked her lips.

“I’ll make the arrangements,” Cortesia said, and left them with a curt nod. Passing by Enrika, she snapped her fingers, the maid quickly turning towards her at full attention. “Tell the other staff that we’ll be having guests tonight.” She ordered. Enrika did a shy bow and ran into the estate.

The princess went to her room to freshen up for the evening. Left alone, her attention turned to the oddly enjoyable efforts of her favorite servant. She reached into her cleavage, and pulled out Petit, dropping him on her bed. “I should keep you in there more often,” she admitted, “but there’s no time now. We’ll be dining with the adventurers tonight. Make yourself look nice.” The princess instructed, inspecting herself in the mirror.

…

An hour had passed. The maids had been fervently preparing for the guests, and now, they simply awaited their arrival. The maids lined up at the wall, while the princess stood at opposite to the main entrance, ready to greet the guests. She lightly petted Petit as she waited.

The entryway swung open, allowing the adventurers in with great fanfare from the maids, applauding and cheering.

“Great heroes, welcome to our estate, we are so pleased that you could join us!” The princess began in her public tone.

“No, it is our honor to be in the presence of the princess for a meal.” Their leader replied, providing another regal bow.

“Come let us eat.”

The princess led the group to the dining hall, and sat down at the head of the table, placing Petit beside her plate. The party sat along one side of the table, grouped together around their leader. Once the maids served the food, the party was barely able to contain themselves, ravenously eating as much as they could, barely able to retain manners in the presence of the princess.

“Pet, grab me a roll, please.” The princess requested down at her servant about halfway through the meal. Please? Petit raised an eyebrow, That’s the first time you’ve ever said please to me. Not one to embarrass the princess in front of her guests, he stood, and retrieved the pastry, as per her request. Cortesia’s words drew attention to Petit for the first time, causing the party to finally realize he was even there.

The mage drew in a sharp gasp. “A pixie?!” Ciamon exclaimed, grabbing Petit, and holding him close to her face, inspecting him. He looked back at Cortesia, who usually wants to be the only one handling him, but this time she was just smirking. “Where are his wings? Did you clip them?” She pulled out the hem of his shirt, looking down at his back. “I don’t see any scars.” She remarked.

“I-I’m not a Pixie, I’m a human.” Petit nervously answered.

The mage seemed taken aback by what he said and sat in silence for a second.

“You talk?” Tharus peeked his head out from the other end of the table.

“Of course I do, why wouldn’t I?” Petit raised an eyebrow.

“I’ve never seen a servant pixie talk.” Ciamon elaborated.

“But he isn’t a Pixie, he’s human.” Cortesia interrupted, a bit annoyed that the attention was on Petit and not her.

“Well that’s even more strange! I’ve never heard of a human being so small, especially for anything longer than a little while, and that’s assuming we have some of the most powerful mages there ever were!” Ciamon argued.

“It’s not temporary, I’ve been this size since I was born. Long story, and kinda personal.” Petit interjected.

She seemed to accept this, setting Petit down on the table. Tharus was still looking at him. The other two party members seemed to barely care. Faegan was barely paying attention, clearly much more invested in finding out how much of the pork she could scarf down.

“All that magic stuff is too brainy for us,” Skewer shrugged, wrapping an arm around Faegan, “I say live and let live. It’s a weird world, stuff happens. Right, Fay?” He patted his hand on the shoulder of his beast-kin accomplice, who nodded in agreement, her mouth full.

Petit took a second to admire the party. For as long as he could remember, he’d wanted to be an adventurer. Impossible odds, grand victories, loving crowds, it was such an enticing prospect. It had to be the best lifestyle in the whole world, he thought, returning to the head of the table with the princess, who had a bit of a sour look as he approached her.

“So, Ciamon, Tharus, you must both have studied at the capital for those skills of yours, hm?” Cortesia inquired, cutting into the roll Petit had brought her.

“Oh, yes. Three years for me, fire mage’s guild. Tough learning, but very rewarding, as you’ve seen. Tharus was part of the healing arts for a good four, and I must say, I’ve experienced how good he is at it!” Ciamon explained, talking for Tharus who nodded in response. She drew up her sleeve, revealing a long red scar that ran the entire circumference of her forearm. Her upper arm, past the reconnected limb, had a notably greyer skin tone.

“You must have both encountered the arch-mage then, correct?” Cortesia persued. She returned to stroking the head of her brown-haired subservient.

“She gave a few lectures, but I never met her up close,” Ciamon shrugged, Tharus nodding in agreement.

“I saw her once, as a child. She gave us a lovely light show, I remember it fondly.”

“Well I know some more ‘showy’ magic, it’d be my pleasure to give you guys a show.” Ciamon offered.

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” The princess answered, grinning.

The six ate their meals, making light conversation until none could eat any more. Afterward, the party regaled the staff with stories of their travels, and Ciamon gave a wonderful show of magic, complete with beautiful incantations of spiralling fractals inset in space. Petit was absolutely enthralled by the presentation, not even noticing the princess’ pets.

Eventually, dawn fell. “We have a few guest rooms prepared,” Cortesia explained to the party, “and if you need more room, the study is available, just let the maids know and they will set up a bed for you. Skewer, I need a word with you, privately.” She turned to Sasha. “Please guide these fine folk to their rooms.” She instructed. The head maid nodded and gestured for the party to follow her. The three party members left with the maid, with the exception of Skewer, per the princess’ request.

“But, wait, I sleep in the study, where am I gonna sleep?” Petit said, quietly.

“You can sleep in the maid quarters, that is, unless you want to join me in my room.” Cortesia teased with a knowing wink.

“Oh, I guess I’d better make my way to the maid quarters.” Petit muttered.

“Boo, you’re no fun. Now, hurry along, I have to speak with Skewer... alone.” She gestured for Petit to move along.

He made his way to the study to get his blanket, which came in the form of a particularly thick handkerchief. On the way, he saw Sasha guide Faegan into the study, and the mages to the guest bedrooms. Petit crawled under the door and walked in the room, hiding in the corner, trying not to be seen by the beast-kin. Petit felt odd, sneaking into what was normally his own room, but he didn’t want to annoy the adventurer. Inside, the room’s table had been cleared out, leaving only a few chairs, and a large mattress covering the floor. He watched the beast-kin survey the room, before unpacking, laying her bag on the ground and placing her spear against the wall.

Seeing his handkerchief hanging off the side of the chair, Petit quietly ran to it. He ascended onto the chair and grabbed the cloth. Before he could hop down, however, a shadow fell over him. He spun around, it was Faegan, unaware of his presence. More specifically, it was Faegan’s butt, descending over him.

“Wait, Faegan, stop!” Petit shouted.

She reflexively spun around, quickly assuming a fighting stance. Once Faegan saw it was only Petit, she dropped her guard. “Oh, it’s you, Pet. What are you doing here?”

“Yeah, sorry, I usually sleep here, so I was just grabbing my stuff.” Petit explained, holding up the handkerchief. “And, um, it’s Petit, not Pet.”

“Well, Petit, you…” she stopped, her ears twitching. “Don’t come back tonight,” Faegan said, and clicked open the door, the light from the hallway stretching into the dim study.

Down the hall, Cortesia and Skewer were talking. “Sorry, princess, but my heart is already spoken for.” Skewer explained to her, grabbing Faegan’s hand. Cortesia was taken aback by the display of affection, and to a beast-kin no less.

“If you’ll excuse us, we’re going to the bath,” Faegan said, as pulling Skewer behind her.

Hopping off the chair and making his way into the hallway, Petit saw Cortesia in the distance, simply standing, stunned, her smile quickly falling away as the adventurers grew further. “WHAT!” She shouted. “HE SAID NO TO ME?! SASHA! Bring me the GOOD wine in my chambers, and no one is to disturb me!” Cortesia demanded to the head maid, down the hall, stomping to her room.

Once the coast was clear, Petit crept out from the doorway and walked through the estate, towards where the maids' quarters were. The hallway was lined with identical doors, labelled with the names of two workers each until the last door, which only had one, Enrika’s. He didn’t want to take advantage of her kindness, but seeing as she seemed to like him, and there was a free bed in the room, it looked to be his best option.

He crawled under the door and entered the room. In case she was not decent, he covered his eyes. “Enrika!” He attempted to make his presence known. “Hey, sorry for barging in, but I need a place to sleep tonight!”

No reply.

He slowly uncovered his eyes, and saw that she wasn’t present in the room, likely having yet to return from her bath. Petit wandered into the room, making his way across the floor. There was a hairbrush left on the floor, the maid’s black hair woven throughout its bristles. Curiously, however, there was also a few white hairs among the bunch. They couldn’t be hers; she was by no means old enough for that possibility. Perhaps an older coworker had borrowed it in the past? He climbed atop the spare bed, which lacked covers. There was a stale odor of gas throughout the room, not offensive, but certainly noticeable.

Soon after, the door opened, Enrika stepping into her room. As he had suspected, she had just left the bath. Her torso was wrapped in a large towel that extended to her calves, and another, smaller one, tightly wound around her still-wet hair. Her fair skin shone in the dim personal quarters, and the flowery scent of merriwood perforated the air around her. Not wanting a repeat of what almost happened with Faegan, Petit immediately announced himself.

“Hey, Enrika! Over here!” Petit yelled, waving his arms.

“Oh!” The maid jumped in surprise, not expecting her coworker to appear in her room. “Hey Petit! Um, not to be rude, but... what are you doing here?”

“The other guys are...” he cleared his throat, “using my room, do you mind if I borrow the spare bed, just for tonight?”

“I, umm…” Enrika stammered, glancing around the room. “Yea-yes, sure you can. I just need to, yknow, get ready for bed, so could you, like,” she made a spinning gesture with her finger.

“Oh! Yeah, yeah, of course.” He answered nervously, turning around. The princess had been changing in front of him for so long that he had forgotten it was normal. He turned to face the bland, undecorated wall.

“No peeking, I mean it,” Enrika commanded, trying to act stern.

“No, no, I’d never.” He answered to the wall.

Petit could hear the rustling of Enrika taking off her towel. Out of respect, he tried not to mentally picture her behind him. He continued looking at the wall. The crowning was well maintained, he noted. There were a few noticeable holes in the wall, accompanied by square imprints of less-worn walls. Evidently, pictures had been hung on the wall prior. The estate had a lot of history like this, and he had to wonder where this fit into it.

“Ok, I’m done.” Enrika announced.

Petit spun back around. Enrika was in a nightgown, her head covering atop her scalp. “Thanks for letting me stay, if you’d said no, I would’ve had to sleep with the princess.” He thanked.

“Luckily for you, I wouldn’t wish that upon my worst enemy.”

They shared a laugh, before going silent. “Why do you stay?” Petit blurted out, not quite thinking it through.

“I’m sorry?” Enrika looked a bit taken aback by the sudden question.

“Why do you stay,” he gestured at the walls around them, “here, at the estate?”

“Well, I know they treat me like crap here, but it’s the only place that’ll keep me around, with my... problem.” She wafted her hand behind her. “And you?”

“Family stuff.” He stated, matter-of-factly. “They needed money, the princess offered to hire me. I send most of my wages to them.”

There was a knowing silence between the pair.

“That story Skewer told, about the troll, that was incredible.” Petit broke the silence.

“Yeah! And the one about the ice swamp, that was intense.” Enrika gushed.

“Man, I got so jealous during that story, I almost feel guilty about it now. That danger, that rush, it’s so exciting, you know?”

“Really? I was always a bigger fan of the crowds. The cheers, the adoration, it all just looks so great.”

“Oh yeah, that’s great, too.” Petit remarked, imagining the sight. He crawled into his makeshift bed, yawning.

“You should do this again sometime, it’s nice having someone to talk to in here.” Enrika proposed, getting into her own bed.

Petit considered the prospect. Sure, it might smell sometimes, but it sure beat being alone. Plus, he’d be safer from the princess’ whims here. “I’d like that.” He answered.

“Good night, Petit.”

“Good night, Enrika.”

“Hey, Petit, it’s time to wake up.”

There was a nudge on his arm. He opened his sleep-crusted eyes. Enrika was in front of him, backlit by sunshine from the small rectangular window that sat within the upper wall, opposite the door. He blinked a few times. Enrika was already fully dressed for the day ahead.

“Sorry, long day.” Petit said, rubbing his eyes. He drew back his covers from his body.

         “Come on, they’re gonna serve breakfast.” Enrika said, holding out an open palm. Petit sleepily crawled into her hand, feeling her body heat perforate his body. He laid down, curled up into a sleeping position. Enrika cupped him in her hand, bringing him to her chest. She began walking. Her steps were silent, her footfalls delicate, so much so that Petit could only tell they were moving by the acceleration he felt in his gut.

“Hey!” Petit heard Enrika whisper at him, “don’t fall asleep, we’re here.” He hadn’t even realized he was falling asleep. Looking between her curled fingers, he could see they were in the dining hall again. The party was there, and as usual, the princess was sat at the head of the table. He mentally prepared himself for another day of harassment as Enrika opened her cupped hands, allowing him to step onto the table. The moment he left her palm, she turned and made her way out of the room.

         Petit looked up at Cortesia. She didn’t seem her usual self, displaying neither her tormenting grin nor her princess-like posture. She just seemed... defeated. At the very least, she wasn’t giving him any orders, so Petit sat down and bit into some of the food. He looked around the table.

The adventurers seemed to break into two pairs for the time. Faegan and Skewer were sitting much closer to each other. Skewer had his arm around the beast-kin, who in turn was lying against his chest. Both had particularly messy hair. Tharus and Ciamon, on the other hand, seemed to consistently giggle in hushed whispers to each other at the pair.

         “Those stories you told last night were amazing,” Petit said, breaking the silence. Ciamon, being the closest one to him, responded. “Thanks, Pet. Seems there’s a new one after last night.” She gestured at Faegan, grinning. The beast-kin gave her a dirty look.

“It’s, um, it’s Petit, not Pet.” Petit corrected, trying not to picture the situation that transpired in the room he sleeps in.

“Oh, my apologies-“ Ciamon started.

         “Only I call him Pet, we just have a special relationship.” Cortesia said curtly, curling her fingers around him. With the other hand, she poured herself a cup of wine. It was already a bit red, so Petit assumed it was not her first drink of the morning. He caught a glance of the princess glaring at Skewer with disdain.

“Well, it’s been wonderful to stay here,” Skewer announced, “but we should get going, we don’t want to get caught on the road when it gets dark.” He stood up, immediately followed by his cooperatives.

“It was nice to have you all.” Cortesia had a slight pause between each of the words, her princess smile cracking ever so slightly.

         The party left the room to gather their belongings. Once they exited the hall, Cortesia summoned Sasha with a wave.

“Yes M’lady?” Sasha answered, approaching the princess.

“Tell the other staff, that I will be resting in my room with Pet for the remainder of the day, and I am not to be disturbed for any reason,” Cortesia instructed.

Petit’s heart sank. Typically, the princess would show a little restraint around Petit when others were around, but when they were alone, it was a different story. Coupled with her being in an evidently terrible mood after her apparent rejection, Petit began to worry. Sasha glanced at Petit in her hand, a note of empathy in her eyes. She bowed and left the room.

         Servant in hand, Cortesia walked to her room wordlessly. Petit wanted to say something, but he didn’t know if it would help or harm his case. She entered her room and placed Petit onto her bed before crawling onto it herself, laying on her stomach. Seeing her begin to stretch her arm towards him, Petit shut his eyes tight, preparing for the worst, but then nothing. All he sensed was the sound of the bed ruffling, a shadow pass over him, and a familiar odor waft his way.

He opened his eyes. The princess’ foot was towering over him. “Rub my foot, Pet,” she commanded. She seemed to have lost her typically playful demeanor. He began kneading his hands against the arch of her soft, but ill-scented foot. A short while silently passed. The foot slid backward, then leaned forward, as the princess stepped on Petit, pinning his head between her toes. Petit laid still on the soft mattress, anticipating the princess to continue her antics. “I didn’t say for you to stop rubbing,” the princess said, coldly. Petit struggled, freeing his arms. He awkwardly rubbed the princess’ toes.

“You seemed pretty interested in their stories,” Cortesia stated.

Petit gulped. “Yeah, I, um, I really liked them. I always wanted to be an adventurer, so it was cool to hear what it’s like-”

“WHAT?!” Cortesia exclaimed, bursting out laughing. “You, an adventurer? You’re barely a match for my foot!” She squeezed his head between her appendages, as if she needed to remind him that he was under a foot. “You collapsed just cleaning my panties, and you want to fight monsters?!” She continued in hysterics, barely able to breathe.

“I… I want to help people,” Petit muttered shyly, immediately regretting his choice to respond.

         Cortesia grabbed an open a bottle of wine from her nightstand, taking a long swig. Her lips detached from the bottle with an audible pop. “You want to help people? I know someone you can help.” She moved her foot off her small servant and got up out of the bed. She set her bottle back on the nightstand.

She reached behind her head, playing with the strings of her morning gown. She pulled the thread out, extending with the stretch of her arm. Her eyes were locked on Petit’s as the dress fluttered to the ground around her, revealing her full nude form, devoid of undergarments.

         Petit’s eyes widened at seeing a woman’s parts for the first time. Cortesia smirked at him, crawling back onto the large bed. Sitting on her knees, she stretched out her legs on either side of her servant. Her womanhood was before him, just a few feet away. “You said you wanted to be an adventurer. Well, why not explore a cave, since you’re so very courageous.” She mocked.

“What?” Petit asked, a mixture of lingering confusion and shock clouding his thought.

“You felt good in my chest yesterday,” she cupped a breast, “so I bet you’ll feel great here.” She traced a finger down her chest, running a fingertip through her slit, which seemed to grow wetter by the minute.

Petit stared into the vagina before him. Cortesia had a slight pubic mound with golden follicles that matched her hair. Her pink lips shone wet in the light.     

         “Come on, I’m sure you’ll love it as much as I will.” She reached her hand out toward him.

“Wait, princess, stop, I, I can’t do this,” Petit begged, backing up with his arms in front of him.

         Cortesia’s hand was inches from him when a gurgling could be heard coming from her gut. She paused and retracted her hand. “Ah, I better use the bathroom before we start, we don’t want to stop while we’re having fun, now, do we?” She stood up, giving him a wink. “Don’t go anywhere.” She retreated to her private bathroom, shutting the door behind her.

         Petit started breathing heavily, struggling to process what princess was about to do. “She... she’s gonna f-force me in… there...” He thought aloud. What am I gonna do? What can I do? He fretted.

A door opened. Petit snapped to the direction of the noise. But it wasn’t the door to the ensuite. It was the entrance. To his surprise, it was Enrika who came through the door, light on her feet as she approached him.

         “Petit, are you okay?” She asked, worried. “I heard what the princess said, I... I can’t let that happen to you.”

“What? What do I do?”

“We leave, it’s the only thing we can do.” she whispered down at him, holding out her hand.

“I can’t, my family, they need me, I can’t leave”

“You have to! You can’t let her do this to you, it’ll ruin you! Your parents would never allow you to do this for them!”

“I just can’t, okay? It just won’t wo-“Petit drifted off. There was something on the princess’ nightstand, where she had put her bottle. “What is that? Grab it, quickly, please.”

Enrika followed his request. It was a letter, with the bakery stamp on it, the one Petit thought he had seen earlier. She opened it, holding it so that Petit could read it as well.

Dear Petit,

         Have you been receiving our letters? The bakery is doing well. Your father is back and We’ve been receiving a lot of orders lately; a caravan is in town, and we don’t need the money anymore. You don’t have to stay there, but if you choose to, we understand.

Love,                               

Père and Mère

         Petit looked at the date. It was from two weeks ago. Letters only take a maximum of two days to travel between the different towns.

The princess had been hiding letters from him, just to keep him from leaving. He felt a boiling rage well up inside him. It was just too much, it was just too wrong. It made him so sick that his stomach hurt. He looked up at Enrika. She understood.

There was a click; the doorhandle to the ensuite twisted and opened with a creak. The princess exited, looking surprised.

“What are you doing here? Did Sasha not tell you to stay out...?” Cortesia’s sentence faded, seeing the envelope from the bakery, opened, on her bed. “You weren’t supposed to see that.” She stated coldly.

“It’s my letter, you had no right!” Petit shouted at her.

“I’m the princess, I get what I want, and I want you, besides keeping you here is easier when you have no choice,” The princess argued.

“Screw you!” Enrika interjected. She stood up, grabbing Petit. “We’re leaving. We don’t want any more of your shit!”

“And go where? The guards would have you back within the hour! You have nothing without me, without this estate!” Cortesia shouted. She reached and tore off Enrika’s headwear. “Even this, the cloth on your head, it’s my... mine...” She trailed off, distracted by the two pointed ears atop Enrika’s head where the cloth had been. “A... a cat-kin?”

“I AM NOT A CAT, I AM A SKUNK!” Enrika shouted in rage at the princess.

Petit was in shock at his friend’s reveal. Obviously, he was familiar with the concept of a skunk, but a skunk-kin? Unheard of. Enrika was growing closer to the princess. Petit was unsure of what she was going to do, but as long as it resulted in something bad for the princess, he intended to let her go through with it. In what felt like an instant, she spun around, pressing Petit against her chest.

He couldn’t see, and he couldn’t hear. He quickly realized he couldn’t breathe, either. Enrika was holding him too tight to her chest. But he felt. Enrika let out a grunt that Petit could feel vibrate in his chest, followed by a rumbling in her gut.

PPPPPPPPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT

The guttural reverberation resonated into Petit’s very bones. Enrika released a monstrous fart, unleashing all the built-up gas she’s accumulated and hasn’t been able to release in a large dose until now.

Petit thought he heard Enrika mutter an apology down at him before he was overcome by the stomach-churning sensation of rapid movement. Before he could even take a breath, he was tossed into Enrika’s mouth.

Just as his previous experience with a mouth, it was incredibly humid, and everything was drenched in spit. However, the difference this time was that it was pitch black. Enrika’s lips were pursed tight, and her jaw shut. Petit couldn’t even lift his head without hitting the roof of her mouth. The air was breathable, but heavy and not particularly fragrant.

He heard a loud thud, the sound of an unconscious body collapsing to the ground, followed by the dull sound of glass clattering to the ground. There was a creaking noise. Orange natural light shone through, just a bit, lighting up the interior of Enrika’s mouth. She drew in a sharp breath, barely opening her mouth. It smelled faintly of the courtyard flowers. She must have opened a window, thank the gods, Petit thought.

There was running. A lot of it. A corner, a turn. She was panting now. Cold, fresh air being drawn in, pulling Petit one way, hot, humid breath pushing him out, leading to a sort of back-and-forth movement. The sound of running water, the stream that ran through the courtyard. More running. Enrika was breathing heavier, making the back-and-forth more exaggerated. An incline. The sounds of twigs crunching and snapping could be heard outside her mouth. She seemed to come to a halt. Petit’s stomach lurched, feeling the sensation of freefall for a moment as Enrika sat down. She stuck out her tongue, Petit rolling out into her open hands.

Petit shook his head a few times. He looked back up at Enrika. Her hair was dirtied and fuzzied. A twig stuck out of it. Her dress was torn in some places, ripped in others. “I don’t think they followed us” she panted between breaths.

He stood up, wiping her saliva from his face. His mind raced as his eyes went wide with realization of what they had just done. “This is crazy! We can’t do this! Making an enemy of the princess? It’s insanity! We gotta do something, we have to go back-” Petit rambled, his hands on his head as he paced about the beast-kin's open palms.

“We’re not going back! It's over, alright? We’re leaving. If I have to drag you away to get it through your tiny skull I will.”

Petit had never seen her so stern before. “I... I...” he muttered. He considered his options. If he went back to the princess, he’d never see the end of her punishment. Who knew what she may do, especially if he considered the particularly unforgiving mood she’d likely be in when she woke up. On the road, however... well, there was at least a chance.

“I’m sorry, I... I had to get you out of there, I couldn’t just stand by, and, and let her do that to you.”

Petit sighed. The idea of going out, into the vast unknown, with his only sort of weapon being a skunk-kin's flatulence. Sure, it was probably powerful, but he personally would have preferred a sword. Terrified was an understatement.

He sat down in her palm. They were beside the stream, the sound of running water creating a backdrop to their conversation. Enrika was sitting down, leaning against the exposed roots of a tree that seemed to have some grievance with the concept of dying. They were in a small valley, of sorts. The tree acted as a breakpoint, and the ground behind it was elevated about three feet, with tufts of grass at the top and the rest being exposed dirt all the way down. Petit looked up at Enrika’s rounded ears, and the streak of white hair that ran down the center of her hair. “So... skunk kin.” He initiated.

“Yup” Enrika answered. She set Petit down beside her atop one of the roots.

“So, why’d you hide it?” His legs were dangling off, and he had to wrap an arm around a branch of the root beside him to keep stable.

She shrugged. “There’s this old superstition that beast-kin attract the animals we were based on. Most towns obviously don’t want skunks, they’re a pest. So, by extension, we end up getting treated like pests.” The beast-kin explained. “And even if you don’t believe the superstition, you sort of have to believe in the smell.” She made a wafting gesture behind her. “And that usually gets us kicked out.”

“Oh. OH, I see. So you wear the stuff to hide, I see.” He nodded. He stopped, a confused look on his face. “Why not just go make a town alone, like the pixies? Seems a lot easier than trying to hide.”

“It’s a cultural thing, I guess. Birds gotta leave the nest, ya know? Soon as you hit fourteen, you’re off on your own.” Enrika reached out beside her and plucked a vine of ritberries off a nearby bush. She popped a few into her mouth, and handed one to Petit. “So,” she began, her mouth full, “my turn for a question. Why are you so small?”

“That’s a long story. Do we have time?”

She swallowed with an audible gulp. “Oh yeah, we’re gonna wait until nightfall before we move.”

“Alright then, I guess. Well, from what my parents told me, my mom got really, really sick during pregnancy. It was bad. We got worried, you see, the doctor said that either me or my mom would die during childbirth. Obviously, that’s not ideal, so she went looking everywhere she could for a possible cure to save us both. Well, that took her to a witch. The witch gave her something, a potion of some sort, saying it’d save us both, but the side effects would be problematic. My mother, she’s not normally a big risk taker, but she was desperate, so she took it.”

“And the side effect was that you were small?” Enrika interrupted.

“Exactly. So I stayed with them for most of my life. They took care of me, and I was unique, so I brought a few more customers than we would have had. Then the princess took power. Word spread around, and after meeting me herself, she ended up hiring me.”

“You took the job to support your family, right?”

“Yeah. Well, she was a lot nicer at first, so you can probably imagine that I was pretty excited for a lot of reasons. I mean, you have to admit she’s gorgeous, she lives in a friggin’ palace, et cetera, et cetera. I thought it was the best thing ever, for a bit. Things went to shit quick though, as you’ve seen.”

Enrika nodded in agreement.

“I guess that wasn’t very long.” Petit admitted.

“Almost wish it was longer. We’ve got a ton of time to burn before nightfall.” She tossed another few ritberries into her mouth.

Petit grimaced. The ritberries would undoubtedly make the upcoming while less pleasant. He wanted to say something but decided to hold his tongue. She had just saved him, after all. The least he could do was tolerate her eating habits.

“I was thinking we should head upstream.” Enrika took him out of his thoughts. “I think there’s a town up that way. Maybe we can pick up an odd job and get some money to keep moving. Right now, though, I need some sleep. We’ll be walking all night, so I need to sleep while I can,” Enrika said.”

“Whatever you need.”

“Thanks.” She turned onto her side, and laid down on the ground, using her arms to prop up her head.

“Hey, Enrika?”
            “Mhmm?” She replied, her eyes still closed.

“Thanks for saving me.”

“Of course, Petit, I wouldn’t let that happen to you.” She shimmied a bit, getting comfortable. Her tail unfurled from behind her, covering her eyes from the sun.

Petit reclined against the root, letting the serene quiet of the forest fill his ears. Birds chirped, and the running water soothed the ears. Enrika’s breathing slowed, indicating she had fallen asleep. He hopped down from the root and walked around in front of the beast-kin. Her tail looked soft. Reaching out a hand, he felt the silky-smooth hairs of her bushy tail. It was like fondling a cloud, it was lovely. He gently stroked her tail, finding it oddly comforting. He yawned. “I could go for a nap.” He muttered to himself.

“So could I.” A voice spoke from above him.

Petit gasped, and shot his head up. It was Faegan! She was on her stomach, leaning over the edge of the grass, a hand holding her head up. She was smirking. Petit opened his mouth to speak, but in the blink of an eye, the beast-kin shot out an arm, placing a clawed finger on his stomach. “If I wanted to hurt you, I’d have hurt you.” She whispered softly down at him. She looked over to Enrika. “Skunk-kin, eh? Not quite untraceable, is she?”

She wrapped her fingers around him, gently picking him up. Faegan moved about, dropping into the lowered area with them. She held Petit up to Enrika’s ear. “Wake her up, slowly. Don’t want to startle her and get us both gassed, do we?” She instructed.

Petit opened his mouth to speak. He looked back at Faegan, who gave him an affirming nod. “Hey, Enrika, it’s time to wake up.” He whispered to her, his voice slightly quivering.

“Is it night already?” She answered slowly, her tail still in place.

“No, it’s not night, but there’s someone here to see you, just don’t... freak out.” Right as he finished his sentence, Faegan swiftly moved Petit away from Enrika’s face, up under Enrika’s gown, and with an almost incredible elegance, into her butt, his entire body right up against the fabric of her underwear. She pushed and kneaded his body into Enrika’s admittedly soft posterior until he could be held in place without external assistance from Faegan. She withdrew her arm from the gown behind Petit.

“Hey” Faegan spoke to Enrika, a hand on her shoulder, holding her firmly against the ground.

“Uhm, hey. Where’d Petit go?”

“He’s right here.” She tapped a finger against Enrika’s buttock.

Enrika blushed, feeling Petit in her butt. “Wh-why’s he there?”

“Call it a precaution, in case you thought it would be a good idea to gas me. So let’s do everyone here a favor and relax before you blow your little pal here into the afterlife.” She removed her arm from Enrika’s shoulder.

Her face became even more red, as she felt Petit stir against her butt. “C-can I take him out?”

Faegan shrugged. “You could, but wouldn’t that ruin such a lovely neef to neef moment?”

“Are the rest on their way?” Enrika asked. She decided against taking Petit out of her butt – she didn’t want to make Faegan feel threatened.

“I came alone, so probably not. Princess is gonna wake up soon, though, and she’ll tell everyone you gassed her out.”

“How do you know I did that? I opened the window-”

Faegan laughed. “C’mon, neef. Have you never met a wolf-kin? Best trackers this side of the realm. Anyway, I just came by to wish you guys luck. It ain’t easy being a fugitive, I should know.” She gave her a wink. She opened her mouth to continue speaking, but stopped. Her ears twitched. “I think I hear someone,” she muttered, “stay quiet. Good luck, neef.” She hopped back up the ledge.

“Oh, there you are!” It was Skewer, and by the sound of it, he was a safe distance away. “I was wondering where you went. Princess is up now, should’ve seen her.” He chuckled at the memory. “Comedy gold, right there. Poor drunk, just kept on rambling.”

Enrika let out a quiet sigh of relief, untensing after the frightful encounter. Faegan struck her as well intentioned, but Enrika still found her intimidating. She sat up, leaning against the roots of the tree, and turned an attentive ear to the conversation.

“What did you run off for?” Skewer asked.

“Sorry, hunter’s cravings. Had to release some energy, I hope you don’t mind.”

“Ah, no problem, I understand. Missed some fun stuff, though. Tharus lit a candle in the princess’ chambers, the whole room lit up for a second, singed his brows right off.” Skewer recollected aloud. “Did you catch anything?”

“Nah, just found some ritberries.”

Enrika looked to her side. Her ritberry vine was missing.

“Just make sure you stay at the back of the party when we head out on our way, alright?”

They seemed to be walking away, their voices growing quieter with distance. Still, Enrika didn’t dare to peek out, out of fear of being seen.

“Let’s head back to the castle, maybe the princess’ll feed us again.” Was the last thing she heard either of them say before they grew too distant to be heard. She felt a familiar pressure build up in her gut. Deciding that the pair was far enough away, she leaned off to one side and let it escape with a soft but audible hiss. Immediately, she felt an aggressive thrashing in her backside.

She slapped a hand over her mouth in surprise. “Petit!” She exclaimed into her hand, having managed to completely forget her was there during the altercation. She hastily reached up her gown and between her cheeks, withdrawing her shrunken compatriot.

Enrika looked down at Petit in her hand, blushing from the embarrassment. She began apologizing profusely. “Oh, Petit, I am so sorry, I wanted to take you out, and, and I forgot you were there and –”

Petit stood up in her palm, coughing at the toxic air he had to endure. He made a dismissive gesture towards her, making her stop. “It’s fine, it’s fine. Just, could you rinse me off in the stream, real quick, please?”

“Of course, of course.” She hastily got up and crawled toward the stream, careful not to poke her head above the dirthill. She placed Petit into the stream, splaying her fingers out behind him to allow the water to pass around him without carrying him downstream, right back to where they had started. After a few seconds, she took him back out. She mentally prepared for a justified verbal assault.

Petit brushed back his hair. “We’re alright, phew.” He muttered to himself. He looked up at Enrika with a confused expression. “Neef?”

Surprised by the question, Enrika paused for a moment. “Oh, neef. It’s a beast-kin thing. Means ‘cousin’, sort of. A sign of respect for another of your kind, since we’re all technically related if you go back far enough.”

Petit nodded in response, seemingly having grasped the idea.

There was a momentary silence. Enrika placed Petit back on the ground. “Okay, we still have a little while before night comes. Wake me up at sunset.” Enrika said, laying back down. She shut her eyes, and tucked her tail in front of her eyes. She felt Petit recline against her arm, probably assuming she had already fallen asleep. She smiled softly, and actually fell asleep.

It was a long day, with Petit’s paranoia after the encounter with Faegan only making it feel even longer. The sun seemingly refused to move from its place in the sky. Petit found himself falling asleep against Enrika for short periods out of boredom. Each time he woke up, the shadows crawled a bit further, and the sun inched closer to the horizon. It was getting colder, too, but not unbearably so.

Once the day began to grow dim enough that Petit had to squint, he pulled himself atop Enrika’s forearm, walked to her shoulder, climbed atop her head, and positioned himself above her folded ear. He lifted it up. “Hey, Enrika,” he whispered into her ear, “it’s time to get up.”

He hurriedly hopped off her head, in case she made any disruptive movements in her sleep-fogged state. She stirred and reoriented herself into a sitting position. She rubbed her eyes. “For real, this time?” She asked, groggily.

“Yes. No surprise guests, thank the gods.”

She extended a hand for Petit to hop on to, which he did obligingly.

“Time to walk, then. It’ll be a long way to town; we’ll only be able to travel through night, and carriages are probably out of the question. I’d say a few days, tops.”

It’s good I have her to carry me there, Petit remarked silently.

The pair began making their way upstream. Since the evening sun was directly behind them, Petit assumed they were heading east. He couldn’t use it as a gauge for long, though, as soon after it disappeared below the horizon. The night permeated the air, with the cold night winds lightly brushing against his exposed arms. It was getting dark quickly, and the moonlight was proving mostly useless.

“I can’t see anything right now. How can you walk in this?” Petit inquired, unsure how his accomplice managed to be so sure-footed in the nigh pitch-black of the forest.

“Another reason most beast-kin are so great. Night eyes.” Enrika explained. “I’m not great at it, but I can still make out a path.”

“Most?”

“Eh, some can’t, but a lot can.”

“Incredible.”

“Thanks. Anyway, if you can’t see, you should try to get some rest. No use keeping you up and wasting energy that you’ll need tomorrow.”

“What are we doing tomorrow?”

“No clue, that’s why you’ll need it.”

Petit was about to respond when Enrika passed through a pair of densely branched trees, emerging on the other side. He lost the words he was going to say, lost in the view before him. They had entered a clearing, free of trees, where the moonlight lit up the ground, bathing it in a soft white. The night was cloudless, showing the stars in all their heavenly glory. The astral bodies above seemed to glisten, fastened to the sky like diamonds in an air-bound tapestry. “Wow” Petit murmured. Rarely did he ever see the night sky, often spending his evenings inside as soon as the sky began to dim, since him being visible to others was so integral to his survival. Even in the times he did see the night sky, it had never possessed an ounce of the beauty it possessed at that very moment.

“Beautiful.” Enrika said, softly. Petit turned to look at her, she was bathed in the moonlight, making her face visible. He could see the night sky reflected in her eyes.

“Yeah, beautiful.” Petit agreed. He reclined in her palm, looking up at the gorgeous sky. Eventually, the clearing ended, the night sky giving way to the spotty blackness of the organic ceiling that was the forest. It was so dark, that at first, he hadn’t even realized his eyes were closed. Yawning, he decided it would be good to take Enrika’s advice and try to get some rest. He curled up in her hand, getting into a comfortable sleeping position. Her hand closed around him, securing him and making the enclosed area comfortably warm.

“Sleep tight, Petit.” Enrika whispered into her hands.

Within minutes, he had fallen asleep.

…

The sun was rising now. Enrika was crouched down by the stream, running her fingers through the water. She splashed some water over her forearms, clearing out the grime and sap that had built up during her voyage. The orange morning light was a welcome change; the night had been cold at times, and the eye strain of trying to see in the dark became unpleasant after extended periods. She glanced over at Petit, who seemed to be just waking up. She had put him in a leaf on the ground, so that she could use both her arms to do a bit of foraging. Petit did a small morning stretch, arching his back, before setting himself upright.

“Mornin’, Petit” Enrika greeted cheerily. “Breakfast?”

He nodded groggily and rubbed his eyes. Squinting from the bright morning sunlight, he stood up.

Enrika slid a piece of bark towards him, filled with whatever fruits she could scrounge up. From the ‘plate’, Petit grabbed a few azureberries, while Enrika grabbed a fruit that looked somewhat like a pear, although she wasn’t entirely sure what it was.

“We made good progress last night, if there is a town, it isn’t far now.” Enrika talked between mouthfuls of the fruit.

…

After finishing their breakfast, they resumed travelling. Although it was morning, and the day was growing brighter, they figured they’d be alright to travel a bit longer, possibly finding somewhere to settle at noon. Walking through, they noticed a different landscape emerge. The rolling hills and dense forests were shifting, giving way to a flatter region, with fewer trees. The ground was covered in tall grass, interspersed with small ponds.

Additionally, there were noticeably more hallmarks of human, or at least human-like, interference. There were windmills dotted about, and a few trees had ‘X’s etched into their bark. They resolved to be careful, seeing as they were better off avoiding their presence being known.

Suddenly, there was a scream. It was close to them, and whoever it emanated from sounded young.

Enrika crouched low, hiding within the grass.

“What are you doing?!” Petit scolded. “We gotta see what that is! Maybe we can help.”

“Could be a mimic, that could be what it wants!” Enrika proposed. “And, if it isn’t, what if they out us? I’m not going to get arrested because you want to play the hero!”

Petit looked up at her angrily.

In a bout of movement Enrika hadn’t predicted, Petit leapt out of her palm, onto the ground. He rolled on impact and burst into a sprint toward the noise, disappearing into the tall grass.

Enrika’s eyes went wide. She sputtered a few half-sentences, her empty hands still held out. She went silent. She cursed under her breath and began heading in the direction Petit ran. Careful not to step on him in her search, she scoured the grass, looking for any sign of him. There was a break in the grass, and a small figure that stood out against it.

She rushed over to him, and with a sweep of her arm, grabbed him by the torso. She swept a few loosened hairs out of her face. “What the underworld were you thinking?! You need to be careful, who knows what’s out here!” Enrika threatened.

“Look!” Petit interrupted, pointing off in the distance.

There was a girl, no older than eight, backed against a tree, surrounded by small black rodents. Upon closer inspection, Enrika realized they were skunks, and by their posture she assumed they felt threatened.

“You gotta help her! You can talk to them, right?”

“I can, but that girl could screw us over, it’s a bad idea-”

“You said you wanted to be an adventurer; this is how you start.”

Enrika paused. Petit clearly had a point. Yielding, she started making her way towards the girl. “Hey!” She shouted at the skunks, which immediately turned their heads towards her. “Quit that! Go home!” She moved to stand in front of the girl.

The skunks chittered, making communicative squeaks.

“Oh, I see.” She turned around to face the girl. “You were chasing them around?”

The girl, craning her neck up at Enrika, nodded. “Pop didn’t want them around the farm, so I tried to scare them away so he would be happy.” She admitted sheepishly.

She turned back around toward the group of skunks. “You live on their farm?”

The skunks responded with an affirmative chitter.

“Look, this isn’t a good spot. There’s a really good forest out that way,” Enrika pointed in the direction she had come from, “you’d be better off over there. Less people, too.”

The skunks seemed to find this a pleasing option. After a brief series of sparse chitters, they made their way toward the tall grass, and by extension, the forest.

“That wasn’t so hard.” Petit said from Enrika’s palm.

“You got a funny tail, Miss.” The girl interjected. Enrika hopped up, straightening her back in surprise at the sudden feeling of a hand on her tail. She spun around. The girl was grinning. “I’m Tina. Do you wanna come meet my family?”

“Er, I don’t think-” before she could even finish her sentence, the girl was tugging her along with a surprising amount of strength. She looked over to Petit in her other hand. He did what she thought was a shrug, although it wasn’t entirely clear since he was holding onto her hand for dear life.

“It’s just over here, come on!”

There was a farm visible in the distance. A plume of smoke was rising from the smokestack of the large farmhouse. Next to it was a squat barn. As Enrika got closer, the surrounding fence could be seen, and the grassless dirt entered her line of sight.

Arriving at the back door, Tina hopped up the steps and yanked Enrika to attention next to her. She did a quick stomp on the doormat, clearing the mud off her boots before opening the door, continuing to drag Enrika behind her.

Finally, Tina released her grip on Enrika’s wrist, excitedly hopping towards what Enrika assumed to be her parents. They were tall. Absurdly so. The father, the taller of the pair, had large horns situated above his head, one seemingly missing a half, and a massive beard that covered most of his face. He was on the larger side, having a slightly more rotund figure, but clearly in a muscular way. Despite his imposing appearance, he had very kind features, and wore a proud smile looking down at his daughter. He leaned down and scooped her up in his arms in a large hug.

“Who’s your friend?” The mother asked. As previously mentioned, she was the shorter of the pair, but not by much, and she still towered over Enrika. The mother had a large chest, wide hips, and a soothing presence.

“This lady saved me from the skunks!” Tina excitedly exclaimed.

The father went on a knee, getting eyelevel with her. “Tina,” he spoke with a voice so deep Enrika felt it in her chest, “did I not tell you to leave the skunks alone? I said I would deal with it.”

“Sorry, pop, I just wanted to help.” She swung her arms from side to side, looking down at her shoes.

“We will talk about this later.” The father informed her quietly. He gave her a pat on the shoulder and got up off his knee.

“Thank you, Miss... oh goodness, I haven’t caught your name!” The mother interjected.

“Enrika.”

“Miss Enrika, you really helped us out today.” The mother said. The simmer of water striking a hot surface became audible. “Oh, food’s almost ready! Please, Miss, stay for lunch, it’s the least we could do to thank you.”

“You don’t have to do that-” Enrika began.

“Tina, go get your sister. She’s out near the haybales.” The mother instructed her daughter, interrupting Enrika.

“I better get a hold on those skunks; I’ve been putting it off too long.” The father spoke down to his wife.

“Oh, that’s not necessary. I asked them to leave, so they should be out of your hair.” Enrika interjected.

The father looked at her, confused, until he noticed her ears. He let out a hearty chuckle. “Ah, of course! A beast-kin, wonderful! Head along, I can’t be a poor host to a neef.” He shuffled Enrika towards the table, his large, calloused hands against the small of her back.

Enrika sat down at the wood table. It felt strange not donning her headwear in front of others, and even more strange being welcomed so lavishly. She looked down at Petit in her palm, hidden beneath the table. He shook his head a bit, recovering from the dizziness induced by Enrika’s rapid movements.

“I guess we’re joining them for lunch.” Enrika informed him, in case he hadn’t heard the prior conversation.

“I knew this was a good idea.”

“You’re too trusting, we just got lucky.”

“You’re not trusting enough.” Petit said, pulling himself up the side of the table.

“Hey, I don’t think you should get up there.”

“Why not? I’ll just sit right over here, and we’ll all have a good time. I'm great with kids.” He walked over to the other side of the table and took the space opposite to Enrika.

“Suit yourself, but if something happens that’s on you.”

The back door swung open, striking the wall with a loud thud. Enrika winced. Tina dashed out of it and quickly slipped into the seat next to Enrika. She cupped a hand to whisper to her, Enrika leaning in. “Here’s my sister, Milly.” She pointed at the doorway. In it, the girl who Tina claimed was Milly stood.

Just like her parents, she was absurdly tall. She had wild brown hair and long, thick horns atop her head. She wore muddied overalls that must have been improperly sized, because they managed to hug every curve and contour of her body despite being overalls. Her figure was something almost unbelievable, with breasts that looked to be as big as Enrika’s head and thighs so full that Enrika feared they’d pop. Behind her, a dangling tail with a small tuft of brown hair at the end flicked from side to side. She looked to be a young adult, around Enrika’s age, even without taking into account her tall stature.

She walked in and sat down opposite to Enrika, her massive breasts flopping onto the table with an audible ‘thunk’. Or, more specifically, her massive breasts flopped onto Petit, exactly where he was standing.

Enrika put a hand to her mouth, stifling a laugh.

Seeing this, Milly grinned. “What?” She chuckled, “what’s funny?”

“Sorry, I just saw something funny, please, ignore me.” Enrika said between small bouts of giggles.

“I’m Millicent, nice to meet’cha.” Milly, or now Millicent, stood up out of her chair and stretched a hand out across the table, lifting her breasts up off the surface of the table. Enrika noticed Petit take a deep gasp during his respite. She shook Millicent’s hand.

“This is the lady who saved me from the skunks!” Tina interjected giddily.

“Don’t thank me, my friend was the one who made me do it.” Enrika explained.

“Friend?” Tina asked excitedly. The siblings both looked around. Millicent sat back down at her seat, flopping her boobs onto poor Petit once again.

“My friend is special. He was on the table, right there.” She pointed at where Petit was.

“M-me?” Millicent pointed at herself, clearly confused.

“No... stand up, please.”

She did as instructed, sliding the chair out and standing up. Freed from his confinement, Petit rolled, scrambled to his feet, and stumbled out of the ‘danger zone’, fearing that she would crush him again. Once he was clear, he put his hands on his knees and took deep breaths. Enrika quietly snickered and shot him an I-told-you-so kind of look. He responded with a dismissive hand wave.

Millicent pulled in her chair, and sat back down. Her breasts struck the table, causing Petit to lose his footing. Petit fell against her titanic tits, which bounced in response. Sure, they were soft, as he had noticed when he was beneath them, but they also had a firm quality that led to him bouncing back up upon striking them. He looked up, slightly afraid, but she didn’t seem offended by his accidental misdeed, and simply looked at him with a sort of giddy confusion.

The parents entered the room, carrying bread and a large, steaming pot of what Enrika assumed was soup. “Mommy, mommy, look, she has a little friend, who helped save me!” Tina said, excitedly.

Petit waved up at them nervously. The parents seemed both surprised and intrigued. “A pixie?” The mother asked.

“No, he’s human.” Enrika shook her head.

“Ain’t ever seen a human that small, but you learn to stop asking questions around here, don’cha?” The father chuckled. “I’m Otto, and this is my wife, Melina.” Otto said, gesturing to himself and his wife.

“Petit.” He briefly wondered what a handshake would feel like.

The five sat around the table, with Petit on the table by Enrika. Otto led a quick prayer to the god of fertility, but Petit was unsure what it was about, since he didn’t speak that prayer language. Once they were done, Petit began eating the soup. He hated to admit it, but after he had spent his four weeks at the estate, his palate had become more refined. Nonetheless, he stomached the soup. The bread, however, he couldn’t bring himself to enjoy. His inner baker seemed to be intent on screaming every flaw and imperfection it could find about it, making it difficult to enjoy. It was an unfortunate trait he had picked up over his lifetime, and one that clearly had no interest in leaving.

Tina was making faces at him. Trying to entertain her, he mirrored them. She giggled. She made a motion like she was going to reach for him but was quickly blocked by Enrika nonchalantly placing her hand in front of Petit, and subtly drawing him closer to her.

“So, Enrika, what brought you here wearing those clothes?” Melina asked.

Enrika looked down, and realized how out of place she was in her maid uniform. It didn’t help that it was covered in holes and caked in dirt. “We umm, we just left our old job. We were in a bit of a hurry, though, so I couldn’t grab a change.” Enrika explained.

As everyone finished eating, Millicent stood up. “I’ll take everyone’s dishes.” She spoke.

“No, dear, you don’t have to do that, just go look after the cattle.” Melina instructed, taking the dishes. She glanced over at Petit on the table, continuing to mirror Tina while she did her best impression of a chimpanzee. “Miss Enrika and Petit, this might sound sudden, but would you mind looking after Tina for the day? Otto and I have to go to town, and Milly is quite busy today.”

“Oh, we weren’t planning on staying long-” Enrika explained.

“Hey!” Petit caught Enrika’s attention. He put his hands together on the side of his face in a sleeping gesture, and then pointed at her.

“Err, ok, we’ll watch Tina until you’re back.” Enrika relented.

“Yaaay!” Tina gibbered from across the room.

“Yaaay!” Petit mimicked.

…

Petit and Enrika watched Melina and Otto finish loading their cart with inventory. There were various vegetables, several small drums labeled “milk,” and a few more labelled “Royal Milk.” Melina waved goodbye to them while Otto lugged the carriage down the road, presumably towards town. With that, they left them alone with instructions to put Tina down for a nap in a few hours, and if they had any questions, Melina had said, talk to Millicent.

“C’moooonnnn!” Tina throttled Enrika’s leg, “let’s play!”

Millicent led the three of them to a large shed near the house. It would provide good shade while they spent the day outside.

Petit ended up doing most of the babysitting, keeping Tina entertained, mainly through the hit game ‘run from Tina’. This was a game he was very good at, having experienced its great predecessors such as the legendary ‘run from Claire’, and the challenging, yet intellectually titillating, ‘run from Daniella’. He spent the day getting into whatever nooks he could to avoid the terrorizing child while Enrika reclined in the sun, beside the shed.

He was getting tired, he realized. He figured he should swap out with Enrika before he loses the energy to run away. “Truce!” He called out to Tina from his spot between two sheets of plywood leaning against the shed.

No response. He knew she was out there, though. Instead of going out the front, where Tina would expect him, he squeezed himself in the small space where the wall and floor of the shed met but didn’t quite touch. From there, he made a beeline for Enrika, laying on the grass just outside.

He looked behind himself. Tina was still watching his previous hiding spot intently, hunched over, ready to pounce at him, unaware that he was no longer there. He continued his run for Enrika, even when footsteps behind him became audible.

He made a dive for his friend. Touching her shoulder, he cried out “safe!” Enrika sat up and shot him an inquisitive look. “Think you can cover for me?” He panted. “Whew, I’m tired.”

“Sure thing.” Enrika stood up. “You good to be alone for a while?” She asked down at Petit, who shot her a thumbs-up in response. “Cool.” She turned back to Tina. “Alright, want to head inside?”

“No...” the girl groaned. Despite her response, she still followed Enrika back to the house, leaving Petit alone.

He reentered the shed. It was filled mostly with various tools and large bales of hay. The wooden walls were interspersed with spaces in the wood that made the outside visible in every direction. Petit climbed up one of the haybales and sat atop it, bored. The haybale proved an unpleasant place to sit, as the bristles were uncomfortable, and the surface was too inconsistent to prove a good flat surface to sit on. It wasn’t much better than the ground, but it wasn’t muddy, and had an altogether more pleasant scent, which stood in opposition to the ground, which was riddled with mud and smelled faintly of mildew.

Petit shot his head up in surprise when he heard the shed door slide open with a loud rolling noise. It was Millicent, seemingly in need of something. “Hi!” He greeted excitedly.

“Oh, hi! Petit, right?” Millicent said.

“Yup. Are you busy?”

“Sort of.” She grabbed a few tools off the wall. Not being a farmer, Petit hadn’t a clue what many of them were called, or what they did. He did recognize a few, though. The shovels, rakes, hammers, very large hammers, and finally, a large axe that was currently resting on Millicent’s shoulder.

“Mind if I tag along? It’s kind of boring over here.”

“Not at all, I’d love that.” She walked out of the shed.

Petit waited. He wondered what she was doing.

Millicent popped her head back into the shed. “You coming?” She asked.

“Well, I just usually am carried. Short little legs can’t keep up very well, y'know?” Petit explained.

“Right, right. Sorry.” She went up to Petit on the haybale.

“Er... do you have any more pockets?” He asked, seeing as her hands were full of tools.

“Sure do” she replied sweetly, temporarily putting a handful of equipment on the haybale. With her now freed hand, she picked up Petit with a surprising amount of delicacy, and dropped him into her cleavage.

Needless to say, this is not where he expected to go. He was a bit apprehensive about the situation, considering his previous experience involving her boobs, but he comforted himself with the knowledge that she was at least aware this time. Her breasts were soft, pressing against him on all sides with the smoothness of silk. However, just as before, they possessed a firm quality, that prevented him from doing much movement. Her heartbeat could be felt near her right breast, thumping rythmically.

She began walking, every step causing her mammaries to bounce. With difficulty, he clambered up her cleavage so he could get a view of what was happening outside.

Millicent was making her way towards the far end of the farmland, near a sizeable stump. She placed her tools on it, with a few occasionally falling off and her having to lean down to pick them up. Miraculously, Petit was held in place by her boobs, despite the angle suggesting that he should be falling out. She wasn’t making any conversation.

For a little while, he watched her go through her daily activities. She counted cattle, checked stock, inspected the surrounding fence, which she found a broken board in. Still, no conversation. She didn’t strike him as the quiet type, and considering his current location, not the shy type either. The only conclusion Petit could draw was that she had forgotten about him.

She was making her way to the fence with a replacement for the broken board. “Hey” Petit announced himself.

“Gah!” Millicent jumped in fright, shaking Petit around in her chest, sending him a bit deeper in her cleavage. “Oh, right, it’s you, sorry.”

So, she had forgotten about him. He shimmied his way back to his precious spot.

“My bad, didn’t mean to scare you like that. Not to complain, but I was just wondering why I’m... here.”

“My mom taught me to do it like this.” She explained, “I’m a bit too strong sometimes, so she taught me to put stuff in my chest so I wouldn’t break it.”

Petit didn’t dislike being in her cleavage, but this knowledge certainly made him feel a bit weary. “O-okay...” He stuttered uncomfortably. He supposed that if this was a strategy she employed, though, then it must be effective, and up to this point, it had been.

Millicent removed the nails from the broken board, each one popping free being accompanied by a jiggle of her boobs. She placed the new board in, and hammered in fresh nails, each strike causing an even larger jiggle from Petit’s confinement. It was kind of comfortable, Petit found the vibration relaxing. She stood up to inspect her work. Apparently, she found it acceptable, because she packed up her items, picked up the halves of the broken board, and moved on.

Next up, it seemed, was churning butter. This was a constant barrage of movement for Petit, leaving him rather nauseous by the end. Surprisingly, he hadn’t popped out of her cleavage, despite the intense shaking.

Afterward, she moved to chopping firewood, wielding a hefty axe as if it were no more than a pair of scissors, and chopped what he thought to be unchoppable logs into splinters with one strike of her axe. She was getting increasingly sweaty as the day progressed, Petit noticed, making her cleavage grow slicker, and more difficult to hold his ground in.

Such a display of strength reminded Petit of the sought-after ‘tank’ that many adventurer’s parties yearned for. Even DeKirier, one of the most powerful parties Petit had ever seen firsthand, was lacking a tank. He felt a bit envious, seeing as most things would be a hell of a lot easier with that kind of strength. Plus, with that amount of strength, you’d find it difficult not to be recruited into a party.

Lost in his thoughts, Petit didn’t notice until it was too late that he was sinking into Millicent’s chest with every axe strike. After a firm strike, He was brought under, fully submerged in the sea of boob. There was an air pocket, he quickly realized, but it was quite humid, and smelled badly of Millicent’s sweat.

He was in there a few minutes until he heard footsteps, and someone calling his name. Millicent shouted something he couldn’t quite hear. He attempted to listen further into what was happening, but the speech was muffled. Suddenly, Petit saw light come in as Milly’s chest started to part. He blinked a few times, adapting to normal light once again. Enrika was in front of him, looking uncomfortable.

“Wh-why is he in there?”

“It’s safe.” Millicent answered from above.

“But…it’s… y’know, he’s a guy, and you’re a girl...”

Millicent didn’t answer for a moment. Then it seemed to click for her. “Oh, oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it, I just wanted to keep him safe.”

“T-take him out.” Enrika instructed nervously.

Millicent reached in, and carefully scooped Petit from her bosom. She held him out in her palm awkwardly. “I didn’t want to hurt him by accident, my mom told me to do this with things that are precious-”

Enrika didn’t seem to like this. “P-precious?!” She interrupted, grabbing Petit from Millicent. She held him close to her body.

“I’m sorry, I promise I wasn’t trying to flirt with your boyfriend-”

“I-it’s not like that.” Enrika interrupted again, blushing. Not knowing what to say next, she turned and began walking back to the house.

“Listen, it’s not what you think-” Petit began.

“I take over for a few hours, and the first thing you do is hop in the boobs of the first girl you see?” Enrika scolded.

“It’s nothing like that! You saw her, she didn’t know she was doing anything wrong.”

“Okay then, Petit, what was it like?”

“I was bored, and she walked in, so I asked to tag along, and she put me where she thought I’d be safest.” Petit stood firm.

Petit could almost hear the cogs turning in Enrika’s head. She was clearly mad, but he could tell she knew he was right.

She drew in a deep breath. “We’ll talk about this later.” She stated flatly.

Petit thought that was a good idea.

They entered the house. Tina was in the living room, playing with her ragdolls. She hopped up excitedly when she heard the door open.

“Can Petit play again?” She cheered.

Enrika looked down at Petit in her hand, who was completely aware of what she was about to do and hoped his facial expression showed it.

“Yeah, actually. He was just talking about how much he wanted to play again.” Enrika shot him a sly look.

…

Enrika peered through the window down the street. “So, when do your parents get back?” She asked.

“Later. At nighttime.” Tina answered distractedly. She was preoccupied playing ‘house’ with Petit and a ragdoll. She giggled.

Enrika assumed Petit was doing something funny but didn’t look behind her to check. Out in the distance, she saw two figures. Or rather, two figures and a large cart. It was Otto and Melina, returning with what looked to be an emptied cart. But something was off. They were moving at a brisk pace and didn’t seem happy.

Melina pointed over to the house and said something she couldn’t hear. They seemed on edge, afraid. Something was very, very wrong. A lump formed in Enrika’s throat, and a pit formed in her stomach. They knew, that was for certain. How much though, she could only guess.

Enrika watched the cart draw closer, growing more terrified by the minute. She was so deep in thought, that she almost didn’t notice Tina come up next to her and see out the window. The girl, upon seeing her parents return early, bubbled with glee and ran out the door to greet them. The parents, upon seeing her, seemed to grow immediately more comfortable. Enrika couldn’t quite hear what they were saying, but she was able to pick out the words ‘stay’ and ‘please’.

Enrika quickly grabbed Petit and exited the door. If she had done anything else, she realized, it would be incriminating. She made direct eye contact with Melina.

“Tina,” the woman instructed, not breaking eye contact with Enrika, “go inside. I need to talk with our guests.”

Tina galivanted past Enrika, blissfully unaware there was tension of any sort occurring.

“A messenger from the royal legion was in town today.” Otto stated, aggression in his tone. “He said that a skunk-kin in a maid’s dress had stolen something very, very important from the Princess. Does that sound familiar to you?” He spat.

“I didn’t steal anything!” Enrika retorted hastily, immediately covering her mouth, realizing her fault.

“So the Princess’ prized possessions just grew legs and left with you?” Melina accused.

“Well, no, it... it already had legs.”

This confused the couple.

Enrika held up Petit in her palm. “It was Petit, I didn’t steal him, we left together. The princess was treating him so bad, and I couldn’t stand it. Please, try to understand.” She attempted to explain.

The pair looked at one another. They began speaking in hushed whispers to each other, sometimes shooting glances at Enrika.

“... she doesn’t look like a thief...” Enrika thought she heard Melina say.

“... it’s a risk to have her around Tina...” Otto possibly said.

Enrika gulped. Perhaps it would be a good time to say a quick prayer to the god of fortune.

They turned back towards her. Melina approached Enrika and placed a hand on her shoulder. She winced, wracked with anxiety. Melina drew in a deep breath and slowly released it.

“We believe you.”

Enrika sighed in heavy relief. “Thank you so much. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, Petit and I will leave within the hour-”

“Actually, please stay for dinner. We’d like to talk with you.”

Enrika decided she’d hear them out. Even if she chose not to accept, she would be leaving on a full stomach, which was much better.

She stood silently to the side while Melina swiftly prepared a meal of cooked chicken and boiled potatoes. Otto returned the cart to the shed and came back to the house. When the food was ready, the daughters came into the house, and the six repeated the same thing they had done at lunch. Millicent and Tina seemingly didn’t pick up on how tense Enrika was. Tina gibbered on and on about how much fun she had had, and Millicent and Petit made idle discussion. Enrika didn’t talk much, only when necessary.

Melina collected the empty plates. Millicent stood up from the table and left to return to her work.

“Tina, could you go to your room for a moment?” Melina instructed.

“Why?” Tina complained.

Melina shot the girl a stern look, the kind that was all but synonymous with the phrase ‘because I said so’. Tina rolled her eyes and made her way upstairs.

The parents sat at the table across from Enrika and Petit. Enrika glanced at Petit, who seemed to share in her anxiety.

“So, what was it you wanted to say?” Enrika asked nervously.

“We’d like to hear your story first, if you wouldn’t mind. Just to make sure, you understand?” Otto said.

They already knew Enrika was guilty, so she decided to confess. She went into further detail about the Princess mistreatment of both her and Petit, confessed to accidentally concussing her (she hadn’t intended for the princess to go unconscious – just for her to be distracted for a little while), and, finally, told them how they came to arrive at the farm. By the end, she noticed her lower lip had begun to quiver. Melina walked around the table and wrapped her arms around Enrika in a comforting hug. It was good, she thought. It made the world smaller, warmer. She wondered for a moment if Petit enjoyed hugs.

Melina unraveled herself and returned to the opposite end of the table. Enrika steeled herself. Melina looked to Otto, who gave her an affirming nod.

“Enrika, Petit, we’d like to let you know that we’re not going to make you leave. You can stay here, on the farm, as long as you need. We could really use a set of delicate hands around here, Millicent can be very clumsy, that’s something she got from her father.”

Enrika looked to Petit. Seeing his cue, he stepped forward. “Thank you so much, we’d be more than grateful.”

With that, they moved onto the topic of arrangements. They’d be sleeping in the shed, since there were no guest rooms in the house. They'd be doing more dainty tasks, washing dishes, sewing, and the like. Petit offered his and Enrika’s help with cooking, an offer Melina seemed ecstatic to take them up on. In addition, they’d help with farmwork, on occasion. The work would be hard, Otto had warned them, but that they’d hopefully find it rewarding as he did. During this discussion, Tina returned to the room and was overjoyed to find they’d be staying.

“One more thing,” Melina appended, “we’d like to give you something to wear, I couldn’t have you work in that.”

Enrika looked down at her muddied and torn dress. Her face became warm with embarrassment.

Melina led her to the storage area beneath the closet. From a large crate, she withdrew a pair of simple beige cloth garments with short sleeves and full-length pants. Additionally, she pulled out an apron and thick blanket.

“These are some of Millicent’s old clothes,” she explained, “they should fit you nicely.”

She went to the shed with Petit to prepare their space, as well as for Enrika to change. They silently agreed that the talk Enrika had told Petit they’d have soon would wait until another time. Emotions were just running a bit too high at the moment, they needed to cool down first. She tossed the blanket over Petit so she could change.

“Seems a bit unnecessary,” Petit was muffled beneath the blanket, “I’ve already been between your buttcheeks.”

“I’m sure you’d love to have a look, wouldn’t you?” Enrika teased. “Alright, you’re in the clear now.”

He emerged from under the cloth. It was a nice little piece she was wearing, Enrika thought. A bit simple, but it fit, and would certainly not hold her back while working. It hugged her features well, much better than the poofy maid dress had, particularly her butt. It even had a hole for her tail, something she greatly appreciated.

She did an exaggerated flourish and giggled. “I like it!” She cheered, looking down at herself.

“Yeah, it looks good” Petit agreed. Enrika thought she saw him steal a glance at her behind.

They moved on to bathing. The family’s setup was rudimentary compared to the bathhouse in the maid’s quarters, consisting of a wooden tub that one would dunk themselves in. The water, since it was not heated, was blisteringly cold, leading Enrika to hop in, wash off as quickly as possible, and high tail it out with chattering teeth. If there was anything she could envy with Petit, Enrika thought, it was that a good warm bath was mind-numbingly easy to prepare. Simply fill a bowl with hot water, and he would be set to go. She put on her undergarments, but not her clothes, worrying that they’d be uncomfortable in her sleep. She tied a towel around her torso, folded her clothes over her arm, and made her way to retrieve Petit from his bathing space in the cupboard.

She entered the kitchen and rapped her knuckles against the wooden cupboard.

“One sec!” Petit replied from inside.

“Why? You’ve already been between my buttcheeks.” Enrika referenced sarcastically.

“Wow, clever.” Petit said. Enrika could almost hear his eye roll. “I’m good now.”

Enrika opened the cupboard. Petit was fully dressed, standing next to the bowl he had bathed in, which was still steaming a bit. She removed both, placing the bowl on the table and taking Petit with her. The sky was growing darker, and since there wasn’t any more work to do that day, there was nothing left to do but go to the shed and get some sleep.

On her way to the shed, Enrika quickly noticed the increasingly overcast sky, with dark clouds rolling in from the west. Lightning struck, illuminating the farm in white, followed soon after by the thundering crash of, well, thunder.

They entered the shed just as the rain began, the sound of droplets striking the roof becoming audible. The light and infrequent plats of water striking the roof quickly grew to a cacophony of constant noise as the rain grew more intense. Enrika shut the door behind her. She turned to look at the sleeping arrangements.

There wasn’t really a spare bed available, so the ‘bed’ that Enrika would be using was a sheet draped over a few bales of hay and the blanket that Melina had given her. Of course, it was probably better than the floor, and doubtlessly better than the inside of a prison cell.

Enrika hung her towel on a loose nail, placed her clothes off on the worktable, and made her way to the makeshift bed. She deposited Petit onto his own section of it, which sat off to the side of where her head would lie while she slept. She crawled in herself, the softness of even a hay bed causing her to realize how tired she was. Apparently, it would seem, walking all night was not a good substitute for sleeping. It was a tad cold in the shed, so she pulled the blanket over herself.

Petit was not in the same situation. The haybale, despite being covered by a sheet, remained prickly and uncomfortable. To add on, the temperature was decreasing by the minute, and Petit’s new handkerchief / blanket was proving incapable of staving off the cold. He didn’t even have the advantage of being too tired to care. In fact, he was caring a lot, and that woke him up more, which gave him the capacity to care even more. This would repeat in a very annoying self-fulfilling loop until he decided to do something about it.

He glanced over at Enrika. She was looking at him, probably having seen him tossing and turning for a short while.

“Hey, are you cold over there?” Her voice was heavy with drowsiness.

“Yeah, and the hay isn’t soft for me.” Petit shivered. “Do you mind if I sleep in your hand, like last night?”

“Sure.” Enrika extended her hand out from beneath her blanket to where Petit was. He crawled into her palm, the immediate softness and warmth making him feel much better. Enrika’s fingers curled around him, seemingly on instinct, making the area even more pleasingly warm.

Enrika drew her hand back near the edge of the covers, but not quite under. That was fine, Petit thought, just her body heat was proving to do the trick. He reclined against her thumb.

Enrika was snoring lightly, having managed to fall asleep in just a few minutes. He looked over at her. He envied how soundly she appeared to be sleeping.

Petit continued to try to sleep. Despite his more comfortable position, he still struggled to rest. He must have been waiting an hour at least before the promise of sleep began to even tease him. Enrika began to stir in her sleep, muttering to herself quietly.

“Mhhmm...” she murmured in her sleep, “it’s dangerous out here Petit. Here, I know where to put you where you’ll be safe...”

“What?!” Petit exclaimed.

Enrika’s fingers tightened around him. She drew her hand beneath the covers. No longer able to see, Petit was forced to operate by touch and sound alone. He was being moved beneath the blanket, touching what he thought to be Enrika’s hip on the way. As she continued to move him, it got warmer and warmer. There was something fuzzy but soft that brushed against him, with a texture familiar to Petit: her tail.

Petit was pressed up against a cloth. Under the force, it yielded, moving to the side. He was pushed further, between two slabs of what he could tell was skin by the texture and warmth. But he was confused why it was so soft, and so deep. It suddenly clicked when he took a breath.

He was in her butt! Enrika’s unconscious grip relaxed, her hand retreating out, leaving Petit between her cheeks. He heard what he now realized to have been the waistband of Enrika’s panties snap behind him. He was deep. The skin deeper had a different texture, he noticed, and a slight but noticeable musky odor was coming from the same direction. Petit wasn’t against her hole, but he was certainly near it, whether he liked it or not.

He thrashed about, trying to wake her up or get out, but it was to no avail. Enrika began moving, he noticed, shifting. As she continued to shift, the pressure around Petit increased, making movement increasingly difficult.

When movement became too difficult to continue, she stopped. Enrika had simply rolled over in her sleep; he could tell by the change in the direction of where he was feeling gravity.

He made a short prayer to the god of fortune that Enrika would not do what skunk-kin were known for.

Almost immediately, he heard a rumble from Enrika’s gut. There was a low but audible hiss coming from the exact opposite direction Petit wanted to hear a low but audible hiss from. His body went rigid, he shut his eyes tightly, and held his breath, both in anxiety, and out of fear of whatever had been lurking inside of Enrika’s ass. He could feel the surroundings getting warmer as her gas perforated the interior of her panties.

Unfortunately, he had been caught when he was about to draw in a breath, so he couldn’t hold it for long. Begrudgingly, he exhaled, prepared for the worst, and inhaled.

His eyes watered. His throat clenched. He now understood why the princess had fainted, not that he had ever wanted to. It reeked. The reek of several dozen rotten eggs that were fermented and then drizzled atop several dozen more rotten eggs, and finally garnished with a generous helping of sulfur. The air was offensively hot and seemed to cling to the inside of his lungs.

He tried to cough, but with every cough he took in another lungful of the sickening fart. With his retching breaths, he tried to call the god of fortune a pejorative, but all that came out was a throaty enunciation of the word ‘ghoul’.

It was going to be a long night.

 …

Enrika opened her crusted eyes. A ray of sunlight pierced through a slit in the wood, going right into her eye. She held a hand up to her face, protecting her eyes from the morning light. After throwing the blanket off her body, she sat up.

“Alright Petit,” Enrika yawned, rubbing her eyes, “time to get up.”

No answer.

“Petit-?” She looked over to Petit’s side of the bed. She checked her hands. He wasn’t in either of those places. She scanned the floor. Not there, either.

Enrika had finally woken up, Petit noticed. He kicked and pushed the skin around him to get her attention, eager to finally get out.

The god of fortune did not answer his prayer that night. Not one bit. Enrika continued to pass gas periodically throughout the entire evening until morning. Not that Petit could have recognized when morning occurred, being too deep in Enrika’s ass. As well, her bowels must have had something against Petit in specific, as they only came alive to push out another rancid fart when he had finally managed to fall asleep, waking him up to relive the torturous experience repeatedly. It was misery incarnate.

Enrika felt a stir in her behind. At first, she assumed it was her tail, as it would do that on occasion when she had to tuck it into her nightwear. Then she remembered that it couldn’t be her tail, because she wasn’t wearing her nightwear, and her tail was currently behind her exactly as it should be. She pondered the feeling for a moment. It was a pleasant, teasing sort of feeling that she quite enjoyed. It would probably be even better if it were only a bit deeper, she thought. It reminded her of something she had felt previously. She tried to remember why it was familiar. There was the time that Faegan found them in the forest…

“PETIT?!” Enrika yelped in surprise. Why is he in my butt? What is he doing there? Did he get there when I was sleeping? Why would he want to do that? Is he doing something perverted? He was very intimate with Milly’s boobs yesterday, and I did see him sneak a glance at my butt last night... no, he wouldn’t do something like that. Besides, he didn’t seem very happy last time he was in there. Did I roll over on him in my sleep? But then, why is he on the inside of my underwear? Enrika’s mind raced, desperately scrounging for a reason Petit would be in her butt.

Petit, having heard Enrika shout his name, relaxed. Good, he thought, now she knows I’m here. She’ll take me out, and then I can explain everything. Great.

He anxiously waited to be withdrawn from Enrika’s rear.

He kept anxiously waiting.

What was she doing?

She wasn’t moving, and she didn’t seem to be trying to remove him. “Umm, hey Enrika! I’m still here!” He shouted, returning to his routine of thrashing and kicking. He noticed that on occasional kicks, he would strike skin that had a rougher texture than the more supple skin surrounding him.

Enrika was still dumbfounded by the situation they both were in. She recalled the dream she had had the previous night. Hmm, there was something dangerous, so I stuck Petit in my butt for his safety. I could feel him move around in there… could I have… put him there? Enrika thought. Enrika felt Petit resume his movements, and another realization struck her. Why does he feel… good there? And what does that say about me liking it? Enrika thought. What terrified her even more, was that it was more than the sensation. Having her small friend between her butt cheeks was horrible, and it was so horribly delightful. It was terribly naughty and that just made it better, which in turn made her feel worse about it. Goosebumps sprang up across her body in reaction to Petit rubbing against the sensitive skin deep in her rear.

I feel his body so clearly, he’s almost at my… oh gods, he can almost touch my… back door! Ernika thought, her face becoming red. She looked behind herself at her panty-clad butt, knowing and feeling that Petit was squirming about in there. I have to take him out now, he’ll understand…

Just then, Melina knocked at the door.

“Come in.” Enrika said on impulse before shoving her fist in her mouth. She hadn’t at all meant to say that, it just sort of spilled out.

Melina swung open the door. “Good morning, Enrika, if you could help with breakfast today- oh!” She halted, seeing Enrika in her underwear. Enrika had told her to come in, however, so she assumed Enrika accepted it. She cleared her throat and continued. “Pardon me. As I was saying, if you could help with breakfast this morning, that would be wonderful. How did you sleep, by the way?”

“Err... good morning. I did sleep well, thanks. I can help with breakfast.” Enrika answered nervously. She straightened her posture. I can’t take him out now! If Melina saw me take out Petit from my butt… she’d get the wrong idea. She’d think we’re a pair of raging perverts! Enrika thought anxiously. She remembered who put Petit in her butt, and briefly considered if ‘raging pervert’ may have been an accurate title for her.

“Better get dressed, then. If he wants, Petit can sleep a little while longer.” Melina said. She walked in and picked up Enrika’s folded clothes. She unfolded the pants and held them out for Enrika.

Not sure what else to do, Enrika took the pants from Melina and awkwardly stepped into them, now hyper aware of how her actions affected her accidental captive. When she bent over, she noticed, her cheeks would part, but the waistband of her panties would slide into a wedgie, keeping Petit in his place.

Petit felt his surroundings shift as Enrika began to move. “Enrika?” Petit said, starting to wonder if everything was okay.

Enrika pulled up the clothing over her legs and up to her waist, the form-fitting fabric fastening her behind tight. The tightness allowed her to clearly feel the details of Petit’s body, from his legs to his fingertips. She hurriedly slipped on the top covering.

“Just about ready,” Enrika said, trying to sound enthusiastic, as she slid on her shoes. She put her foot onto a stool so she could tie them. She took notice of how lifting her leg in such a way rubbed Petit’s body around in her buttock.

“Come on,” Melina said, grabbing Enrika’s arm once she had finished tying her shoes, and pulling her to the house. The ground was wet, but the previous night’s storm appeared to have mostly blown over, leaving the morning sun unobstructed.

With every step she took, Enrika could feel Petit ever so slightly inch closer to her back end. By the time she entered the kitchen, she could feel him practically touch her backdoor with his oddly pleasant kicks. A part of her was screaming for it, begging to just have him a little bit closer, just so she could understand what it felt like. The more rational part of her, however, told her it would be cruel of her to do that to poor Petit. It was an uphill battle for her rational half, but it was staving off her desire for the moment.

“Now, we’re not much of breakfast people here, so if you could just dice some fruit and toss it in individual bowls, that would be lovely.” Melina explained.

“W-wait, if we’re making bread, Petit grew up in a bakery, I’m sure he knows all about secrets to bread making! Let me go get him, and we’ll make some great food-” Enrika said, desperate for any chance to relieve her hapless hostage.

“Bread will take too long, and we prefer it at lunch. Breakfast should be simpler, since Tina, Milly, Petit, and Otto will be up soon. We’re just going to prepare some oatmeal, with fruit. We found some lovely azureberries, and other fruit in town.”

Enrika looked down at herself. “Oh! I forgot my apron in the shed, let me go grab it.” she tried to hide her excitement at finding such a good reason to get Petit out. Thank the gods, Enrika thought, I don’t know how much longer I could have controlled myself-

“Nonsense, you can borrow mine.” Melina removed her apron from a hook near the door and handed it to Enrika.

Enrika felt crushed. Petit must have heard, because he became even more fervent in his scrambling. Enrika bit her lip. I know he’s angry, but couldn’t he at least try to make angry feel less good?

She got together the ingredients, and over the fireplace she began boiling water for the oatmeal. She diced the fruits and tossed them into a large bowl, which she tossed and emptied into their respective smaller bowls for each of the residents, including herself. Throughout all of this, she tried to ignore Petit in her butt.

Enrika set aside a bowl of boiling water, then she started to add the oatmeal to the water. As she did so, she was blindsided by Melina, carrying an empty tray. It pressed right into her stomach.

Petit, although he couldn’t see, assumed that he was very close to Enrika’s asshole, based on how he felt himself gradually moving closer over the last little while, as well as the smell of ass growing increasingly potent. He grimaced. Just when he thought it couldn’t get worse, Enrika farted again. Due to his proximity to Enrika’s pucker, Petit could feel the gas blow against him. It was a sensation he never expected, or wanted, to experience. As he had come to expect, it reeked of death and sulfur.

Enrika tensed up and her face went red. She winced, not in pain, but in the knowledge that she had just passed a bad bout of gas right in front of her generous host. To her surprise, however, Melina quickly apologized and stepped out of the way to continue moving the tray to the table.

She realized she hadn’t heard the fart, nor did she smell it either. It was like it never happened. It seemed like Petit’s little body just took the whole thing. Thank you, and sorry, Petit. Enrika thought.

Melina continued to go by with pitchers, cups, bowls, silverware. Trying not to draw attention, Enrika continued as normally as she could with preparations. She slipped a few azureberries into her pocket quietly.

The water for the oats was boiling. Enrika discretely removed a cup of it before pouring in the oats. She stirred the mixture for a bit.

“Oatmeal needs a few minutes to cook,” Enrika informed, “could you take over while I go grab Petit?”

“Sure thing” Melina replied, grabbing the spoon from her.

Hastily, Enrika grabbed the cup and made her way for the shed. On her approach, Petit was drawn even deeper, closer to her increasingly sensitive hole. She felt horribly guilty about the whole situation, but simultaneously had a concerning growing curiosity toward how it may feel to have his little body plastered against her anus. Entering the shed, she pushed down such curiosities as best she could, and placed the cup and azureberries on the worktable. She began to shimmy down her garments.

Her face went red, noticing the trapped odor that was escaping from her ass. She began to fully realize the torment she had inflicted upon Petit. How the underworld was she supposed to conduct the conversation they’d inevitably have after this? And before that, how was she supposed to remove him? If she reached in, she would run the risk of accidentally pressing him up against her asshole, something she had been desperately trying to avoid. Perhaps she could make him fall out?

Light flooded around Petit for the first time in several hours. The pressure around him resided, Enrika’s glutes parting. He greedily inhaled the cooler and infinitely fresher air. It still reeked like ass, but less so than it had before, and that was more than he could ask for. His eyes adjusted to the light after being unable to see for so long. Right in front of him, Enrika’s pink asshole, close enough that if he wanted to (which he certainly didn’t), he could reach out and touch it.

The globes of ass continued to part around him until Petit felt his stomach lurch, and he fell out, landing in the gusset of Enrika’s panties. Up above him, the round butt he had been trapped in all night. Near his feet, he noticed, there was a slightly sticky wet spot in Enrika’s panties. He let out a deep sigh. At last, he was out.

Enrika’s hand wrapped around Petit and set him on the worktable. Looking around, he noticed a steaming cup, and a small pile of azureberries, unsure why they were there. In front of him, Enrika drew her pants back up.

“Petit, I’m so sorry, I must’ve accidentally moved you in my sleep! I’m sorry I didn’t take you out sooner, Melina was with me the whole time, a-and I couldn’t do it in front of her, she’d think I was a sicko! I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through! I’m so sorry!” Enrika vehemently apologized.

What could Petit say? On the one hand, she had put him in her butt, for gods’ sake! Not only that, but he was there the whole night, subjected to a constant barrage of her farts. Further yet, she kept him in there even after she woke up! On the other hand, however, she had saved him from Cortesia and taken him all the way to this farm. Even before, in what now felt like a different life, she had been as kind as she could to him. Besides, she confessed that it was an accident, and it looked to be the truth by how emotional she was about it.

“It... it’s fine, if it was an accident. It was an accident, right?” Petit looked at her inquisitively.

“Ye-yeah, I had an odd dream, and must’ve moved my hand in my sleep...unless you crawled there yourself?” Enrika said in an accusatory tone.

“No, I did not crawl into your butt myself. I was sleeping just fine in your hand until I was very rudely shoved in there.”

“PFFFT, Ha ha ha ha ahaha, sorry,” she laughed at the absurdity of their situation.

Petit should’ve felt angry at her laughing, but Enrika’s laugh seemed to calm him. He looked back over at the cup and azureberries.

“Oh, I grabbed that so you could wash up. You do kind of stink.”

“I wonder why.” Petit replied sarcastically. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it over the lip of the cup into the water. Enrika was still looking at him, he noticed. She wore a strange expression. “Um, do you mind?”

“You’ve seen my whole butt; I think I should get to see your cute little body.”

“You say that like I was the one who put myself there.”

Enrika pouted dramatically, turning around. She faced the opposite wall, Petit noticing her tail swaying behind her. He looked down at his upper body. It was well-defined, he knew, which was inevitable when normal tasks were an exhausting workout, but he didn’t think it was anything particularly worthy of Enrika’s strange expression.

Now having an element of privacy, Petit disrobed, and tossed his pants into the cup as well. He stepped into ripe azureberry, puncturing it. Attempting to cover the smell of ass, he rubbed the fragrant fruit on his body. He tossed a few other azureberries into the cup before hopping in himself. He washed the smell out of his clothes, puncturing the berries as he went to allow the more pleasing sweet scent to absorb into the cloth. Peering over the lip of the cup, he glanced at Enrika, her large butt well-defined in her tight clothes, beneath her puffy black tail.

What is wrong with me, I spend the whole night in that awful smelling place, and now I’m ogling it? Petit shook his head.

“Breakfast is ready! Hurry up or it’ll all be gone!” Melina called from the house, her voice carrying all the way to the shed.

“Hear that, Petit?”

Petit got out of the bath and dried off with the apron Enrika had left on the worktable. He got dressed, enjoying the more fragrant scent of azureberries.

“Alright, I’m decent.” He announced.

Enrika giddily hopped over and extended a hand for Petit to climb into, which he did. He was lifted to her face, where she took a whiff of him.

“You’re cuter when you smell like my butt.” Enrika remarked, exiting the shed.

Petit rolled his eyes. They walked into the house.

Enrika nonchalantly went and sat down at the table, the same spot she had sat the day prior. She placed Petit next to her. Although the family was eagerly taking portions of the oatmeal, they had saved a generous helping for the pair. Enrika ate with a spoon, gently blowing to cool down the still-hot meal. Petit reclined against her water glass and, due to an apparent lack of other options, ate with his hands.

“Good morning, Petit, did you sleep well?” Melina asked.

“Oh, umm, yeah,” he answered, glancing at Enrika. “Thanks for letting me sleep in, I needed it.” He looked back at Melina.

“Enrika tells me you grew up in a bakery, and you’d know how to make really good bread.”

“Well, I can’t make it myself, but I’m pretty familiar with it.”

“I’m sure you could tell, but I’m not very good at it. You think you and Enrika could work together sometime today and get us some?”

His mouth full, Petit nodded as a reply. He swallowed. “Anything else?” He inquired.

“Yes, actually. I’ve got some housekeeping things for you and Petit after breakfast. Otto has to teach Tina how to do farmwork, and the rest of us have a lot of work to catch up on as well, so it’d be a real help.”

“I don’t see why not.” Petit replied.

After breakfast was done, Enrika cleared up all the dishes. Melina came by with instructions. They were to wash the dishes, make bread, dust surfaces and do some laundry. With the matters cleared up, the cow-kins left the house for their work, leaving it empty and silent.

The first matter to attend to: washing dishes. There was already a full bucket of water next to the house, near the well, so Enrika chose to use that. She found a piece of cloth in the cabinet that would serve the purpose of washing.

“So... you said we’d talk about Milly?” Petit initiated while Enrika wiped at the dirtied bowls.

“Oh, yeah. I’m sorry about that, I didn’t mean to get so... I jumped to conclusions.”

“No, it’s alright. I should have had Milly run it by you first. That one is on me. But”

“But I should apologize to her. You're right.” Enrika let out a deep sigh. “Thanks, Petit. I’ll do it when I get the chance.”

Almost as if summoned, Petit noticed Millicent making her way towards the well near them. He waved her over.

“Hey guys, what’s up?” Milly greeted cheerily.

Petit gestured at Millicent to Enrika. Seeing this, Enrika gave him a small, almost unnoticeable nod.

“Hey, Milly, I’m sorry about yesterday, I shouldn’t’ve jumped to conclusions like I did,” Enrika apologized.

Milly seemed surprised by the apology. “I... it’s okay, I get it, I really didn’t even think about it, I’m sorry. I would’ve jumped to conclusions too if I was in your shoes. Like if I ran up to you and saw you pull Petit out of your butt, I’d have to assume a few things too!” She laughed at her own joke.

“Haha... yeah, that’d be really weird...” Enrika said, glancing at Petit uncomfortably.

“Ha, me in her butt, what a crazy thought.” Petit said, glancing at Enrika uncomfortably.

“So, do you think Petit would be able to come with me for my chores later? Having someone to talk to makes the work less boring.” Millicent asked Enrika nervously, although Petit took notice that the question was mostly directed at him.

“Sure, I can hold the fort for a while.” Enrika answered.

“Yeah, that’d be nice, just maybe I don’t stay in your chest this time?” Petit half-joked.

“Oh yeah! Of course!” Milly answered quickly, blushing.

“Works for me” Petit shrugged.

Millicent left for the well. Off in the distance, Petit noticed her gulp down an entire bucketful of the drawn water.

Enrika and Petit chatted a while longer, hopping between subjects while Enrika finished up with the dishes. Complaining about the queen, reminiscing about when life was simpler, and at one point, for a reason Petit couldn’t quite remember, the subject of playing cards had come up.

They moved to the kitchen to prepare bread for lunch.

...

“Hey, hey! Watch it! Too much yeast and you’ll make the thing flat.” Petit instructed atop Enrika’s head, holding onto the white strip of her short black hair for support.

“What? I thought the yeast made it rise!” Enrika said.

“Yeah, well, it does, until it doesn’t. Got it?”

“Not really...”

“Just listen to your conscience.” Petit teased.

Though he couldn’t see Enrika’s face from atop her head, he was confident she had just rolled her eyes.

Despite wearing the dress of a scullery maid, the ones responsible for preparing food, Enrika had little baking experience. Petit found this disappointing, since Enrika had an admirable agility with her hands, and would likely have made for an irreplaceably delicate baker. Though, if Enrika had had proper experience, Petit would not be able to do his current job.

“Ah, watch the hair.” Enrika winced.

“Sorry” Petit apologized, realizing he was holding her hair a little too tightly.

...

Enrika placed the dough into the oven, sliding the lid shut behind it to cook.

“Alright, we gotta be back here in forty minutes. Anything we should do during that?” Petit asked.

“Okay, I’ll do the laundry, you dust off the surfaces?” Enrika said.

“Sounds good.”

Enrika left the house to use the washboard, leaving Petit to dust off counters and tables that he could get to. There were a few large bits of dried food on the table, that Petit had some difficulty clearing, but after some strenuous labor, he cleaned the whole table by himself. He placed his hands on his hips, admiring his own handiwork. He looked in the direction of the kitchen – the bread would probably be ready soon.

…

Petit covered his ears at the loud ringing.

Enrika was ringing the bell that sat near the door, its thunderous clangs audible across the entire property, informing the family lunch had been prepared.

Evidently eager to stuff themselves, they all came in from various parts of the farm and entered the house. Everyone sat at the table. Otto led the prayer once again, and they began eating.

“Enrika, Petit, this is the best bread I’ve ever had!” Melina exclaimed, her mouth full.

“So, how long are you two going to stay?” Milly asked.

Petit looked to Enrika. “Not much longer, maybe a day, I’d say?” He spoke.

“Why the rush?” Melina asked, dabbing at the corner of her mouth with a handkerchief.

“Gotta stay ahead of the princess, I guess. It’s alright, I always wanted to be an adventurer, anyway.” Petit dismissed.

“Adventurers?” Otto came to attention.

On the other end of the table, Millicent also pricked up, paying noticeably more attention to the matter.

“Y-yeah. It’s a dream of mine, actually.” Petit said nervously, remembering his previous experience saying the same thing to the princess.

Melina and Otto looked at each other, concerned.

Milly quickly finished her food, to talk.

“Well then, maybe you should go to Capicolassale.” Milly suggested.

“Capicolassale? Where’s that?” Petit asked.

“Capicolassale. ‘Starterton’, some people will call it, because just about anyone can find a job there, even an adventurer. Lovely place, really.” Melina said.

“Oh, Starterton, I’ve heard of that place. At the bakery, I’d hear people say they were from there. That’s a great idea! How far is it?” Petit said.

“It’s certainly a distance, but if you can catch a boat, you’ll cut it down a lot. Head east about two days, and you’ll reach the sea.” Melina explained.

“It’s pretty hard to miss it!” Otto chuckled.

…

Lunch ended. Petit remained on the table while Enrika cleared it. Most of the family had left, with Milly staying behind.

“You want to borrow Petit?” Enrika asked Millicent.

“No, actually. It’s something else.” Millicent said, a hint of apprehension in her tone.

Enrika raised an eyebrow. “And what’s that?”

Milly drew in a deep breath. “I want to come with you!” She burst, seemingly fighting with herself to get the statement out of herself. “I need to! I can’t be here anymore! It makes me sick, knowing there’s a whole world out there and I’m sitting here at this farm, missing it! I know I can be somebody. I know there’s something out there for me, I, I...” she trailed off. “I’m sorry, just please let me come with you. I’ll be useful, I promise!”

Enrika and Petit looked at each other. Petit motioned for Enrika to come closer, which she obliged.

“Why shouldn’t she come? She’d definitely help us. She’s incredibly strong, and she doesn’t’ get hurt easily. She’s the tank that every party wants. And she clearly wants to.” Petit whispered to Enrika.

“I don’t know, what if she’s dangerous?” Enrika whispered back, glancing at Millicent occasionally.

“Dangerous? If she was a threat to us, we wouldn’t still be here. Her being dangerous is not a problem, it’s a solution!”

Enrika pondered this for a moment. “Fair point.” She muttered.

Enrika stood back up. “Alright, fine.” She answered Millicent.

Milly released an ecstatic shout, practically jumping toward Enrika. She wrapped her arms around the smaller girl, hugging her so tight Petit was worried she’d pop. She set Enrika down and approached Petit. She picked up the shrunken man, bringing him to her lips and covering his entire upper body in a kiss that was likely intended to have been a simple peck.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” She exclaimed. “We’ll leave in the morning! I’ll help pack all the stuff, and I can carry it too!”

Enrika and Petit were practically dragged along by the excited woman, running about the house grabbing various supplies. Changes of clothes, canteens, food, lots of food, money, blankets. The bag kept growing larger after they went through each room. Every time Petit wondered how she’d carry it, she’d pick it up with extreme ease and move to another room.

They entered the foyer. Millicent was about to bend over to pick up her work boots when the door opened.

“What’s going on here?” Otto bellowed, Melina beside him.

Enrika yelped, tightening her grip on Petit, though she was clearly not the intended recipient of the bellow.

“Oh!” Millicent rose up. She stuttered for a moment, assembling her words. “I... I want to leave with Enrika and Petit. We were just packing.” She winced, expecting to be berated.

Instead, the parents looked at each other. They whispered to each other a bit.

The silence seemed to stretch on for ages.

Otto looked back at his daughter. “You can go.” He stated simply.

“What? That’s it?” Milly was shocked.

Otto shrugged. “I left home, too, when I was young. Best thing I ever did.” He wrapped an arm around Melina’s shoulder. “I’m just happy you asked, I certainly didn’t.” He gave a warm smile.

“Thanks, dad.” Millicent embraced her parents.

“Just don’t take all the pots, we need those.” Melina joked.

Milly laughed. She stepped back from her parents. “We’re gonna leave in the morning.” She informed.

With her parents' permission, Millicent continued to pack with Enrika and Petit, including anything and everything the group might need.

“Oh! And I need something longer, too, in case I have to hide my tail.” Enrika requested to Milly.

“Hold on, I think I’ve got what you need.” Milly said, leaning over to dig in the storage box where Enrika had originally got her clothes.

“Before we built our home here, I had to hide my features too, so I made myself this.” Melina said, standing just near them. She pulled out an odd piece of clothing. It was a pair of pants, with an attached skirt. It was old but appeared to have been well-maintained.

It even looked quite stylish, Petit thought, though he was no fashion aficionado.

“It has a hole in the back for your tail, but the skirt should give you enough room to hide it. I was planning on giving it to Tina, but I don’t think she’ll ever need it. Besides, she’ll just grow out of it quick.”

“Ma’am I... I don’t know what to say,” Enrika said.

“Just say you’ll keep my little girl out of trouble.” Melina said. “Oh! One more thing.” She pulled out a long top that was folded over her shoulder. “This’ll help, too. The hood will cover those ears of yours. Might get a bit warm, though.”

“This is too much, I really can’t accept this.”

“Nonsense! Consider it thanks for that lovely fabric you gave me earlier.”

Milly poked her head out of the storage box, holding an old dress. Seeing the event unfolding beside her, she tossed it back into the box and stood up.

“Oh, since you’re leaving, I should make a big dinner tonight, and I’ll make all your favorites,” Melina said.

“Mom, you don-”

“Nonsense, I’ll get started soon, Otto, let’s get back to work, so we can start on dinner,” Melina said, leaving the house with Otto.

…

Milly continued packing.

Petit noticed he was feeling a bit dazed. He struggled to keep his eyes open, and he was struggling to come up with suggestions of what to pack.

“I’ve packed just about everything I can think of. You got everything out of the shed?” Milly said to Enrika.

“Should be, I didn’t bring much.”

“You guys wanna go for a walk around the farm then?”

“Sure,” Enrika shrugged, “that good with you, Petit?”

“Sounds like fun.” Petit said.

Millicent extended a hand, which Petit stepped into. She slowly raised her hand, being noticeably more careful in her movements, and deposited Petit on her shoulder, where he gripped the shoulder strap of her overalls for support.

Petit was aware of Millicent looking at him through the corner of his eye. When he felt he was stable enough, he gave a thumbs-up.

Seeing his affirmation, the trio went outside. Petit took notice of her more light-footed and carefully placed steps, which was different from her standard gait. They entered the expansive field near the house. Off in the distance, Petit saw Otto pulling an oxen plow, turning the soil at an appreciable pace.

Milly pointed in the general direction of her father. “Over there is where we grow potatoes and carrots,” she explained, “and that small building over there is the chicken coup. Over there are the fields that I till, but I’m done with them pretty quickly.”

She approached a large tree stump beside the dirt road and sat down on it.

“This is my favorite spot. Has been for as long as I can remember. Sometimes people would walk by, and if I was lucky, they’d tell me about places they’ve been, places they’re going. It was so exciting!” She recollected aloud. “You get it, right?”

“Totally!” Petit gushed. “I’d hear all these stories from adventurers at the bakery, it was incredible! Battle, danger, risks, monsters. It’s intoxicating!”

“And you?” Millicent asked Enrika.

“I like the recognition. In towns I’ve been in, parties would just show up, and everyone would get excited for them. They’d buy them drinks, party with them, and they’d try so hard to get them to stay! I don’t know, I guess I kind of envy it. Just never felt that sort of... belonging. And then I see these guys, and they just fit right in everywhere, so well that they don’t even need to stay anywhere.”

Milly and Petit nodded in unison.

It was a pleasant day. Puffy clouds hovered in the air, sailing across the blue sky. The sun was lowering in the sky, but it was still very much day. Its rays struck Petit’s skin, lathering him in its calming warmth.

Petit yawned. He felt himself grow tired. Apparently, one needed sleep in order to not be tired, something he was sorely lacking due to the events which occurred the night prior.

“It’s a nice spot.” Enrika remarked, looking out at the rolling hills and expansive fields.

…

A thunderous clanging resounded from the house, scaring Petit back to awareness.

“Dinner!” Milly exclaimed excitedly.

They returned to the house. At the table, a pot so large and full that Petit worried it would crush the table. Beside it, the remainder of the morning’s bread. They sat down. Unlike the previous meals, tonight Milly sat beside Enrika, with the rest of the family on the other side of the long table.

Otto led the prayer once again. This time was unique, Petit noticed. Although he was still unfamiliar with the prayer language, he recognized that this time, it was a prayer to the god of fortune. He even recognized his, Enrika’s, and Milly’s names dotted throughout. Though he currently had his gripes with the god of fortune, it comforted him to know that Otto wanted them to succeed.

They unclasped their hands and began to take portions of the food. Even Enrika took an impressive portion, clearly not wanting to miss out on the appetizing pork, or the smooth and fluffy mashed potatoes.

Petit, as usual, ate off Enrika’s plate, refueling after the day's events. Beside him, he noticed Milly’s fork approach him, with potatoes atop it.

“Here, try this, it’s delicious,” Milly said, offering a spoonful of mashed potatoes.

Petit stood took a bit of it. It was quite good. The butter that adorned it was smooth, and remarkably savory, with an enjoyable salty taste to it.

“So, I see you guys have already packed up. Planning to leave soon?” Melina conversed, leaning back in her chair.

“Yeah, we’re gonna go in the morning.” Milly informed.

“Hold on, actually.” Enrika interjected. “Petit and I travelled at night before, it’s easier to hide.”

“But it gets so dark, are you sure that’s wise?” Melina asked, concerned.

Enrika tapped her temple. “Night eyes.”

“I don’t have that.” Milly stated, clearly not happy about it. “Besides, you’ve got that dress, no one’ll suspect you of a thing.”

“That’s not a bad idea.” Petit added, to help ease Enrika’s clear apprehension. “Worst comes to worst, Milly here can knock some heads.”

Enrika looked to mull over it for a moment, before seeming to accept it.

...

The evening sun was beginning to pour through the window by the time dinner was finished, bathing the dining room in orange light.

“Thank you, Melina. the food was wonderful, all of it.” Enrika complimented.

“Thank you, you’ve both been wonderful guests.” Melina said.

Petit blinked a few times. He noticed he had begun swaying side to side. He didn’t know when it started, just that he hadn’t noticed it. The sleepless night was getting to him. His eyes burned and his mind grew foggy.

Milly and Enrika were talking in the other room. In front of him, at the end of the table, Tina skipped over

“Petit, can we play one more time before it’s dark out?” Tina asked.

Petit looked down at Tina. His eyelids grew heavier by the moment, intent on shutting.

“Umm… sure…we can play a little bit, until it gets dark.” Petit said, trying to shake off his exhaustion.

“Yaaay, thanks Petit you’re the best,” Tina said.

Alright, I’m gonna play with Tina one last time, then…I can…sleep.

...

“Alright, so we’re heading east, and then there’s the-” Enrika paused. “Did you just hear a thud?”

Millicent and Melina exchanged confused glances.

Enrika peeked around the corner to check on Petit. She spotted him on the table. He was lying down on his back. Seeing this, she rushed over to get a better look at the situation.

“Petit? Petit!” Tina , sounding worried.

Enrika noted the rise and fall of his chest – he was definitely breathing. He was just... lying there. Unconscious. She grew concerned. Tina was standing by him at the end of the table.

“What happened?” Enrika asked sternly.

Tina looked from Enrika to Petit not sure what was going on, starting to tear up. “I was asking him if he wanted to play, and he just fell over! Is he okay?”

“What’s happening?” Milly concernedly asked upon entering the room.

“Petit’s just... fallen asleep. Right here, on the table.” Enrika attempted to explain.

Milly approached the sleeping man, also noticing that he was breathing. Cupping her hands, she scooped him up delicately.

“What are you doing?” Enrika asked. She tried to avoid an accusatory tone, but it was possible a bit had slipped in.

“Well, I’ve got a nice feather bed we could lie him in. I don’t know what’s wrong with him, but I don’t think it’d be a good idea to wake him up.” Milly explained.

They went up the stairs to the second floor, entering Millicent’s room. It was, in all honesty, quite bare. The walls were empty, and the only sort of furniture was the bed, a few wood chairs, and a sizeable dresser. Still, the bed looked to be no slouch, with feathered pillows, a thick mattress, and silky covers draped over it.

Milly carefully laid out Petit on the pillow, watching afterward for any change. Nothing.

“I’m no doctor,” she remarked, “but it looks like he’s just sleeping.”

Enrika relaxed, hearing this. Sure, as Milly had said, she was no doctor, but her words were still comforting.

“I don’t see why he’d be exhausted, he slept quite a lot last night. He even slept in!” Milly speculated.

Hearing this, Enrika tensed up again. “U-uh... well he said he didn’t sleep well last night. It did get pretty cold, and he probably didn’t like the haybales, either.” She told a white lie, hiding the real reason.

“Oh, the poor thing, I wish he’d told me. He must be exhausted!” Milly said.

Enrika looked behind her, having heard a noise. Tina had followed them, Enrika noticed. The girl sat in one of the chairs, looking terribly concerned. “Is he okay?” She mumbled.

“Of course, he’ll be okay, he was just tired, so we have to let him sleep.” Enrika comforted, stroking the girl’s hair with her thumb. “So be really quiet for him, okay?” Enrika put a finger to her own lips.

“I’m sorry.” the girl muttered weakly.

“No need for that.” Enrika consoled. “It wasn’t your fault at all.” She looked the girl in the eyes. “You understand?”

Tina gave a weak smile back, and nodded, before retreating through the door.

“I’m going to go… wash up. I’ll be sleeping in the shed again, is it okay if Petit stays in your room tonight?” Enrika requested. “I don’t want to have to worry about a repeat of last night.” There was a nagging thought at the back of her mind that told her not to leave without Petit, but she stifled it as best she could. After all, she didn’t want a repeat of the last night.

“Sure, he can, we’re teammates after all.” Milly said.

Enrika left the room, leaving Petit with Milly. She splashed some water on her face before making her way to the shed. It had gotten dark, she noticed on the way. The sun hung low in the sky, dipping below the horizon and bathing the farm in an orange-red glow, with long, stretching shadows of trees sporadically darkening the ground.

She disrobed and crawled back atop the haybales, drawing the accompanying blanket over her body. Lying in bed, her mind was left to draw upon the events of the day.

You put Petit in your butt last night! Sure, it was an accident, but then you left him in there all morning! Gods, of course he’d be tired.

She felt a fluttering in her chest. Without even realizing it, her hand had begun to drift toward her midriff. She aggressively withdrew it and planted her face firmly into her pillow.

What is wrong with you? She berated herself internally. You cause all this trouble, and all you can think about is how much you want him back there again? You’re sick! What kind of friend are you?

...

Petit stirred awake. His eyes only peeled open about halfway. Where am I? What happened? He thought cluelessly. Glancing at his surroundings, he came to the realization he was in a room, and was currently sat on a pillow, a cloth covering his body.

Gradually, his mental fog cleared. He had passed out, he realized. The soreness on the back of his head informed him it was not a pleasant passing out, either. Someone must have brought him to this room, he concluded.

“Oh, you’re awake!” A voice said from the other side of the room.

Petit turned to look at the source of the voice. Milly was there, putting out a candle.

He put a hand to his pained skull. “Wh... where am I? Ow.” He winced, having located a sizeable bump on his cranium.

“Well, you’re in my room.” Milly spoke softly, clearly trying to prevent Petit from getting stressed out. “Enrika told me to keep you in here tonight, since you didn’t sleep well in the shed.”

“You could say that.” Petit said, sitting up.

“Would you mind if we shared the bed?”

“Hm?” Petit looked down, realizing he was in what was clearly her bed. “Oh, no, not at all.”

“Thanks.” Milly said. She walked around the bed and crawled into it, resting her head on the second pillow, the one Petit wasn’t using.

“No need to thank me, it’s your bed.” Petit chuckled lightly.

She smiled.

Petit laid back down, drawing the cloth back atop his body.

“Thanks for letting me come with you guys. I know you probably think I’m not cut out for this-”

“What!?” Petit interrupted, shocked. “Not cut out for this?” He nearly threw his head back in laughter. “You’re more cut out for this than me or Enrika combined!”

“Why do you say that?” Milly said, looking very confused.

“I mean, there’s the obvious, you’re tougher than a brick wall, you wield an axe like a butter knife, and I wouldn’t be surprised if you could lift a mountain!” Petit listed enthusiastically.

“You think so?” A smile crept across Milly’s face, visible even in the darkened room.

“I know so. And then there’s your positivity! I wish I had a morsel of the excitement you have to go out there.” He complimented. “And you’re just so friendly and approachable, anyone would be lucky to have you around them.”

She blushed heavily. “Thanks, Petit.”

“No problem.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Petit practically fell asleep the instant his head hit the pillow.

...

Enrika drew the blanket off her body. She had slept in, she noted, as the sunlight was more yellow through the wood slits than the previous day when it had taken on an orange hue. Crawling out of the bed, she felt her bare feet contact the cold and slightly damp floorboards.

This is the first time in a few days when I didn’t wake up with Petit, she thought.

She crossed the shed, approaching the worktable where she had been placing her possessions. She glanced between the outfit Melina had given her the last night, nicely folded, and the work clothes, which she had hastily balled up before going to bed. With a shrug, she unfurled the work clothes.

It was quiet, she thought while drawing the top over her head. It was a quiet that reminded her of those early mornings at the estate, where there was no one other than her own thoughts to converse with. It wasn’t bad, per se, in fact she found it comfortingly meditative. A good way to organize oneself.

She drew the pants up, feeling their now familiar tightness. Carefully, she did up the buckle on her backside which allowed her tail to swing freely below the waistband.

Her hair was unkempt, she noticed, running her fingers through it. It had been a while since she was able to properly brush it. She frowned.

Enrika folded the other outfit over her arm and began making her way to the house. It was late in the morning, why hadn’t Melina woken her up?

She opened the door and entered the home.

The table was empty, nothing in it but a lone plate with a large portion of breakfast atop it.

“Good morning, Enrika!” Melina seemed to manifest from thin air.

“Oh, good morning!” Enrika greeted. “Why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve helped with breakfast.”

Melina waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “No worries, I couldn’t let you all leave without a good night’s rest and a full belly. Speaking of which,” she began guiding Enrika to the chair, “you’d better fill up. Big journey ahead of you!”

“Thanks.” Enrika sat in the chair, placing the new clothes next to her. “Where is everyone?”

“Finishing up goodbyes.” Melina tapped the head of Enrika’s chair before turning and walking back out the room.

Enrika shrugged and ate the food.

Upon finishing, she stood up, making sure not to forget her outfit, and moved to the foyer, where she heard voices. In it, the whole family seemed to be, chatting happily. They were all grinning, despite the fact one of them was leaving.

Millicent noticed Enrika. She gave a wave and a gesture for Enrika to follow her. Milly picked up an absurdly large bag, threw it over her shoulder, and walked out the door, followed quickly by the rest of the family.

Enrika followed her, out onto the grass in front of the home. The family stood on the porch.

Millicent looked to Enrika. “You got everything?”

“I think so. Where’s Petit?” Enrika answered.

Millicent turned to the side, revealing Petit atop her bag. He gave a regal bow.

They waved goodbye to Melina, Otto, and Tina. With that, they were off to find Starterton.

That was it. It almost felt anticlimactic to Petit, like there should have been something more. The house disappeared out of view as the three grew farther. They wandered the gravel path, following the sun as it rose in the sky.  

Worried he was slowing Milly down, since she would frequently check her shoulder to assure herself of his safety, Petit moved to Enrika’s hands.  

The gravel path ended, giving way to dense evergreen forest. Pine scents filled the air, and the area became slightly darker, the monolithic trees blocking out some of the light. 

Reclining in the girl’s palms, Petit took in deep breaths of the fresh morning air. He realized he much preferred travelling in the day. The air was less crisp, and there was, of course, infinitely more visibility for someone less visually inclined than Enrika. Though there wasn’t a whole lot to look at, the lush greens, towering trees, and blue skies adorned with puffy clouds were quite nice. 

“Wow, Petit, can’t you at least try to look like you’re doing half as much work as us?” Enrika scoffed sarcastically into her cupped hands. 

“Watch your tone, you’re currently in the presence of the princess’ most prized possession.” Petit retorted. 

“Yeah, ex prized possession if I've anything to say about it.” Enrika struck back. 

“What’s this you’re talking about?” Millicent interjected. 

Petit looked up at Enrika. “Does she know?” 

Enrika shrugged; her eyes wide.  

Petit shifted his gaze to Milly. “We’re from the princess’ estate. She was not pleased that we left. We'll leave it at that.” He explained. 

“WHAT?! I’m not going anywhere with outlaws!” Milly shouted. A smile crept across her face, and she began to chuckle. “Had you worried, didn’t I? Heh, I don’t mind.” 

Petit deflated. Enrika’s arms below him loosened. 

Eventually, noon struck, the sun reaching its apogee in the center of the sky. They paused to allow Milly to put down her pack and rummage through it. 

“You sure it’s in there?” Enrika asked after a while. 

“Yeah, of course, I wouldn’t leave without it... here it is!” Milly cheered triumphantly, withdrawing a compass from the bag. She placed it in Enrika’s hand next to Petit. 

“Look at that, now you’ve got something to do besides recite pastry recipes.” Enrika teased. 

Petit rolled his eyes and unlatched the cover from the compass. It was a simple thing but seemed to be accurate. It looked like they were a tad off their heading.  

“Turn right a little.” Petit instructed.  

Enrika did so, fixing their heading. They walked onward. 

“So,” Enrika conversed, “when your parents left to town, I saw something labelled ‘royal milk’. What’s that all about?” 

“That’s cow-kin milk. We make it.” Milly explained nonchalantly. “Very popular if you can afford it. It was on your mashed potatoes, Petit.” 

Petit became a bit anxious hearing this. “How do you make it?” 

“With these!” Milly grinned, cupping her massive breasts. 

Petit went wide-eyed. 

“Oh, relax.” Milly dismissed. “You’ve probably had it plenty of times without even realizing it, if you were with the princess. Royal family loves the stuff, says it makes 'em feel more full than normal milk.” 

“I’m not huge on it. Wreaks havoc on my gut.” Enrika shrugged. “You’ve really never heard of it?” She asked, seeing Petit’s shocked silence. 

“I... guess I haven’t.”  

“Huh.” Milly and Enrika both mused. 

... 

The sun began to dip below the horizon, it’s shining no longer bearing on the backs of Enrika and Millicent (not quite so much Petit’s, as he was in Enrika’s shadow.) 

“We should probably set up camp soon,” Petit suggested. 

“I don’t know, I think I’ve got another hour left in me.” Enrika said. 

Petit gestured behind Enrika at Milly, struggling to find her footing in the darkness. 

“Wait! Hold on, I’ve got a lamp!” Milly announced, taking her pack of her shoulder.  

She unhooked the dangling lamp and withdrew a sharpened flintstone and a piece of steel. She struck them together into the lamp, temporarily illuminating the darkness, but the lamp failed to light.  

Giving the device an inquisitive look, she picked it up and shook it around a bit before frowning. 

“Bah. No juice.” She informed. 

Enrika sighed. “Okay, let's set up camp here tonight.” 

Milly happily began digging around in her bag again, withdrawing a large cloth with a string drawn around it, converting it to a sack of sorts. 

She set it down on the ground and opened it up, presenting a large pile of food stores. “Okay, I have a few boiled eggs here.” 

“We should try to save as much as we can, just in case.” Petit said. 

“I’ll get some berries!” Enrika stated more than suggested, placing Petit on the ground to head off to the nearest bush. 

“I’ll start a fire.” Milly began moving around rocks to create a ring. 

Petit was left to simply twiddle his thumbs awkwardly on the ground. There wasn’t much he could do to help with the raw labor aspect, when it came down to it. He just hoped his intelligence would make up for it, though he was certainly no academic. 

He watched Milly walk back and forth from the soon to be firepit, carrying multiple rocks at a time in her cupped arms before switching to carrying branches and dried leaves once the ring was finished. Satisfied with her work, she retrieved her flint and steel, and with a solid strike lit a spark. She lightly blew on it until it grew to an acceptable size, illuminating the surrounding area in flickering orange firelight. 

Enrika returned just as the sky turned fully to night, the glimmering stars above becoming visible. She placed the berries onto the cloth Milly had laid out before taking a seat on the ground near the fire. 

They heated up their eggs over the fire to enjoy them warm. Enrika peeled them for herself and Millicent, but Petit wanted to peel his own, if only for the fleeting sense of his own autonomy. 

He hated to admit it, but he had been feeling increasingly useless as of late. Even the compass thing Enrika or Millicent could have done easily if they’d wanted to, Petit thought glumly. 

His self-deprecation was interrupted when he noticed Enrika stand up across from him. She turned her back towards the fire, evidently warming herself up. Her puffy tail was raised, most likely to avoid setting the thing on fire. 

“Sit your ass back down, no one wants to see that.” Milly teased playfully, finishing another of what Petit had counted to be half a dozen eggs up to that point. 

“Speak for yourself!” Petit said semi-sarcastically in case Enrika took offence to Milly’s remark. 

“What?” Enrika grinned. “The ground is cold, I have to warm up!” 

Suddenly, the fire expanded into a much brighter fireball, making Petit concerned for a moment that it might have singed his eyebrows off. 

Enrika yelped and recoiled in surprise, rapidly inspecting her body to check if she was on fire.  

“Woah!” Petit exclaimed; eyes wide. His heart was almost beating out of his chest in fright. 

“What the underworld was that?!” Milly asked concernedly. 

Enrika was blushing heavily. “I didn’t know they did that.” She muttered quietly, embarrassed. 

Petit leapt up. “That was insane!” He cheered excitedly. “Are you kidding me?! That’s awesome!” 

Milly raised an eyebrow. 

“Flammable farts! Someone’s gotta write that down!” He continued. “Hell, no need, I’m never gonna forget that!” He laughed off some of the adrenaline high.  

Enrika, if one was creative enough, could now be a fire-mage. The thought was one Petit was fond of, both for the possible applications and the sheer absurdity of it. 

Despite the shock of the preceding events, Milly yawned. She made her way over to her bag and unclipped two rolled-up paillasses – a straw-filled sack one could use to sleep when a bed was not an option, as well as a cut-off portion of an old blanket. She set them out for herself and Enrika.  

“So, here’s something for you to sleep in.” Milly handed the portion of blanket to Petit. “But you might get cold at night, so… if you want to… you can… y’know… lay in this sleeping bag with me.” Milly said, blushing. “That is, if you’re okay with it.” She glanced at Enrika. 

Enrika looked at Petit then at Milly. “Do what you want,” Enrika dismissed, getting into her sleeping bag. 

Shit, Petit cursed in his own head. What am I gonna do now? I can’t offend either of them. And gods know what would happen if I went into Enrika’s bag... He shivered at the prospect. 

“I think I’ll... just go in the pack, please.” Petit requested.  

Milly seemed to understand, placing him in it and sealing it shut behind him.  

It was uncomfortable, but it retained heat adequately and it was quiet. What more could he have asked for, he supposed. He shut his eyes and went to sleep, trying to clear his mind. 

… 

Petit heard rustling outside the bag. Enrika and Milly were talking to one another, mostly pleasantries and instructions they passed to one another while cleaning up the space. They’d take him out when they were finished, he assumed. 

The bag shifted and moved. 

“Wait a second!” Petit recognized Enrika’s voice. The bag stopped moving. “Petit’s in there, almost forgot.” 

The bag opened, Milly’s face becoming visible as she peered inside. 

“Morning.” Petit grumbled. 

He was removed from the bag, returning to the day prior’s place in Enrika’s hand before they set off to finish the walking leg of the journey to Starterton. 

Or, at least, they should have.  

A sudden impenetrable darkness set over the group, making vision impossible. In a flash, Petit felt his stomach lurch as he was grabbed by... something. It was fluttering audibly, but he couldn’t see what it was. 

“Sleeping spell!” A high-pitched voice said from above him. 

“I’m trying!” Another replied anxiously before switching to a strange set of phonetics indecipherable to Petit. 

“It’s caldraheed, not caldranit, you blubbering idiot!” The first voice berated. 

The other voice continued their incoherent vocalizations, though Petit did recognize that they had, in fact, corrected their mistake in saying caldraheed as opposed to the apparently more correct caldranit. It must have been correct, because his eyes grew heavier, his mind foggier, and his limbs looser. Gods, he could use a nap... 

… 

“Shit! What the underworld was that?” Enrika shouted. 

“I... I don’t know!” Milly seemed just as confused. 

“Where’s Petit?!” 

“I thought you had him!” 

“I did!” Enrika looked at her empty palms. He had just been there, right before the strange darkness upon them. Even Enrika, with her heightened vision, was unable to discern anything. 

“There!” Milly pointed to the tree line. 

Enrika swivelled toward it. She couldn’t pick it out at first, but then she saw it. A small set of human-shaped figures, flying away. They were incredibly small, no bigger than Petit. 

“Pixies.” Enrika cursed under her breath. 

... 

There was a painful, throbbing pain on the back of Petit’s head. He sat up, trying to remove the pressure on his prior table-related injury. Where was he? Hadn't he fell asleep in Milly’s pack? He looked around. 

A chamber, that was where he was. White root-like protrusions covered the walls, wrapping around the room, winding and splitting. On the mycelium walls, small white buds flowered, bathing the room in a dim white glow.  

On the far side, a door, with a female figure standing in it.  

The most concerning part was that it was all normal size. As in, the chamber, the door, the feminine figure, all were proportional relative to Petit. It gave him a bit of a headache, as he had had no experience with anything of this size, resulting in his eyes getting the idea that there was some sort of trickery afoot, and struggling to focus. 

“You’re awake!” The girl on the other side of the door said. 

She entered the room. The first thing Petit noticed was the tray in her hand, filled with what looked to be food. He must have been hungry, because that was by far the least noteworthy thing about her. For one, she was the same size as him. 

This was obviously a shock to Petit.  

Her hair was a bright orange, not a ginger type, but a true orange. She was robed in leaves, tightly wound and fitted into a skintight outfit. Membranous, translucent wings, each the length of her body, sprouted out on either side of her body.  

A pixie? 

“I’m so sorry for you!” She said, placing the tray on the ground. “I can’t imagine what those beast-kin must have done to you.” The apparent pixie wrapped her arms around Petit in a warm hug. “Your poor wings...” 

Confused, Petit looked down at the girl, resting her head in the nook of his shoulder. It was a feeling he had never felt before, being embraced. It was lovely, he thought. Her mutterings returned to his mind. “My... wings?” 

“Midori!” An angered male voice appeared on the other side of the door, outside the room which Petit was quickly coming to realize was a cell. “Return here this instant! Do not go near that traitor, we do not know how deep his dissociation runs.” 

The girl, named Midori, if the voice in the hall were to be trusted, unwound from him and stepped back. Petit tried to peer around the corner, but realized his throat was bound to the wall behind him, as well as his hands. 

“He has not been torn from the heart of the Fae!” The girl rebuked into the hallway. “I can see it!” 

The man rounded the corner, into the cell. He was visibly taller than Petit, but on the skinnier side. He was betrothed in an armor set built of bark, and what looked to be a short sword was holstered at his hip. “That is not for you to decide.” He said to Midori. “That is a decision to be made by the choir, when he stands trial.” 

Midori groaned, the groan of someone who had heard the same thing many times before and had given up on pressing against it. She walked out, leaving the tray of food with Petit. 

The door shut, and the pair of pixies walked away. Through the bars of the door, Petit saw Midori glance back at him, looking disappointed.  

He was left alone, for the time being, with nothing but the food, his thoughts, and the mycelium walls to keep him company. Biting into what looked to be a small mushroom, he tried to recall the preceding events. 

Memories began falling into place. There was the morning, he remembered that. Waking up in the bag, Enrika and Milly talking to one another. They started walking, and then... 

He had been kidnapped. By the fairies, assumedly. Why would they throw them in a cell, if they hadn’t? But why? For who’s purposes? The way Midori was talking, she seemed to believe it was for his own purposes. 

His mental ramblings were cut short by a group of soldiers at the door. Wordlessly, they entered and flanked behind him to release his bindings from the walls. Midori was no longer present. 

“What’s going on? Why am I here?” Petit asked his foremost questions. He had plenty more where that had come from, but that would be a good start. 

No answer.  

“Come.” One of them said to Petit. The other three (there had been four, apparently) surrounded him, two holding his wrist bindings, another holding the one around his neck. On of them had their foot firmly planted in Petit’s half-eaten food tray. For some reason, this disappointed Petit the most out of all his current issues.  

They led him down the hallway, the glowing mycelium buds and white roots giving way to soft moss. Purple-hued lichens dotted the walls. 

“The bastard hasn’t got wings.” The one from before spoke. “He’ll need to take the bridge.”  

The other three stomped their left foot in a gesture Petit assumed to have a similar meaning to nodding one’s head. 

The interior gave way to an exterior, where Petit came to the realization that he had been within an exceptionally thick tree.  

So this was a pixie civilization. Bridges of spider silk stretched across the vast spaces between trees, beehive-like spherical structures hung from and encased branches. Pixies flew back and forth through the trees, attending to their own purposes without passing a lick of attention to anything else.  

Petit looked down. 

They were very high up.  

Petit looked back up and decided to never look down again as long as he was there. 

“So, where are we?” He asked. 

No reply again. 

These soldiers were very poor conversationalists. 

They marched forward toward one of the silken bridges before them. Petit took a closer look at the structure. 

It had bits of bark placed to serve as steps, and it had a handrail of admittedly pretty ivy curling around. He stepped on. 

... 

“They went this way, right?” Enrika looked around, trying to find any sign of the presence of pixies. She looked back to Milly, who had begun eating their supply of azureberries. “Put those away!” 

“Girl’s gotta eat.” Milly insisted. “Faster we get Petit, less time walking, less eating.” 

Enrika groaned. 

“They did go that way.” Milly answered Enrika’s previous question. 

... 

Petit stood in front of an amphitheater of pixies. In the center, a small, more professional-looking group of six. The four guards continued to surround him. 

The speaking one, who he assumed to be the highest-ranking member of the group, presented Petit. “Behold! We humbly present to the choir, and all viewing parties, one who stands trial under the crime of separation from the heart of the Fae.” 

“Your trial stands accepted. Present your case.” One of the members of the professional looking group in the center permitted flatly. Petit assumed this group to be the choir, as the guard had called them. 

The crowd leaned in, taking interest in the case. 

“Thank you, voice of the choir.” The guard gave a courteous bow. “The accused, as witnessed by myself and others, was seen affiliating with beast-kin.” 

The crowd gasped, repulsed by the idea. 

“Indeed, this is most concerning.” The guard continued. “Furthermore, he has committed the crime of unmuted expedition, for a length of time we assume to be extensive.” 

A series of boos from the crowd. Petit almost couldn’t believe it. 

“we are left unsure of the state of his mind. Accounting for all evidence, we conclude that this man is either a traitor and coward, or a victim of deceit.” 

“Will there be anything else?” Another of the choir piped up. 

“Yes, voice of the choir. Due to his affiliation with beast-kin, and the questions he presented during the travel here, we are led to the belief that he is also under a spell of amnesia.” 

There was a silence. The crowd grew tense, looking to the choir, who sat unconcerned, their facial expressions unchanging and emotionless. 

“Does the accused have any words for himself?” Yet another member of the choir spoke. 

“Yeah!” Petit shouted. “I’m not a Pixie, I’m a guy! A human!” 

A few members of the crowd stood up, dismayed. Petit spotted Midori among the crowd, looking concerned. 

“More evidence of the claim.” The guard concluded. 

“No, no! That’s not it at all!” Petit continued. “I’m shrunk, and those were my friends! Look, no wings.” He turned his back to the choir.  

“Preposterous!” Someone from the crowd shouted. “He has been deceived!” Another cried. 

They would assume he had had his wings removed. Left no better option, Petit tore open his tunic, revealing his scarless back to the crowd. 

“OoOo!” A voice from the crowd swooned.  

Petit rolled his eyes. “I’ve never been a pixie, I’m a man, always have been.” 

“An impossible claim!” The crowd spat. 

“An intriguing case.” One of the choir members noted. Petit thought he saw a twitch of emotion in their facial expression. 

“Listen, alright? I don’t even know what ‘muting’ is! What in Statera is the ‘heart of the Fae’?” 

“Inspect his radiance.” A choir member instructed. 

From the far right, a hunched, aged figure approached, leaning on a wooden staff, which had a large asymmetric crystal imbedded in it. 

The old figure, a man, Petit noticed. He placed a hand on Petit’s chest, his spindly fingers laid flat against him. He shut his eyes tightly, focusing intently. 

There was silence once more. The crowd leaned in. Midori looked hopeful. 

The man retracted his hand and whispered into the guard’s ear before shambling back to his previous space. 

“Present his findings.” The first choir member demanded. 

“Balthazar finds no incantations upon the accused, neither amnesia inducing nor shrinking.” The guard spoke. “However, he noted that the accused possesses no energies indicative of the Fae. Quite the contrary, he demonstrates powerful magic capacities, the likes of which only seen among the ranks of man.” 

The crowd whispered among themselves. Even the choir turned to speak to each other. This went on for a while before the choir all together stood. 

“We present our conclusion.” The choir sang in unison, heavenly harmonies Petit had never heard before. “This is the wingless fairy-king foretold in prophecy, one destined to defeat a great evil and save the Fae!” The choir grinned, looking exceptionally excited. 

The crowd leapt up out of their seats, shrieking cheers and applauds. They clapped and danced, and generally looked quite happy. 

Petit’s heart sank to his gut. 

... 

Enrika held her hand against her forehead, shading her eyes while she squinted at the strange blue lights in the distance. At the treetops, concealed by the dense branches, there was something. She wasn’t sure what it was, but it was certainly there. There wasn’t much to go off, but her mind seemed to recognize the objects as something other than the forest. There wasn’t any evidence of this that she could pick out, more so a gut feeling.  

She gestured for Millicent to follow her and approached the strange artifacts, intending to get as close as she could without having to climb a tree.  

There were small dots flicking through the area, almost indiscernible. As Enrika got closer, their shapes became more apparent. They were pixies, sure enough, in their own little forest civilization. 

Enrika was not fond of pixies. 

The pests were uppity good-for-nothings, to her. They always bragged of their supposed divine descent, and their great connection to magic. Constantly, they would bug beast-kin with claims that they were below them and would demonstrate their distaste for the beast-king of old at any opportunity. 

“Found ‘em.” Enrika spat.  

... 

Petit inspected himself in the mirror. The outfit they had tailored for him was quite a treat. It fit him tightly and was luxuriously flexible. The frilled collar was a style he was unfamiliar with but didn’t dislike.  

“Like it?” The tailor asked. He was an affable fellow, a good conversationalist. Petit found the change welcome compared to the guards who had greeted him. 

“I do, thank you very much.” Petit thanked. 

The tailor gave a polite bow. “It is my honor.” 

The entire wingless fairy thing confused Petit to no end. He was very clearly not a fairy. However, at the end of the day, free stuff was free stuff, and in all fairness, he had tried to convince them otherwise. They simply hadn’t accepted his rejection of their prophecy.  

He soon found himself crossing another bridge, into the central structure of the entire city. It was the largest of the beehive-sphere things Petit had seen, and was ornately decorated with jewels and beautifully maintained plants that curled and flowered in satisfying symmetrical patterns. 

Entering the structure, the first thing he came to notice was the towering throne which sat in the center, with lurid radial patterns flowing outward from it on the floor. 

“Governor!” One of Petit’s personal guards, Irvik, called out. Apparently, the prophecy found Petit trustworthy enough that he should have personal guards. 

From a chamber to Petit’s right, a woman ran out. She looked quite disheveled, especially for someone Petit assumed to be the governor. 

“Ah!” She exasperatedly greeted. “You must be the wingless fairy king. Thank the heavens, we have been in quite a lot of trouble lately. Surely, you’re familiar with all that already, though.” Seeing Petit look at her cluelessly, she raised an eyebrow. “The fairy arch-mage! She’s been missing! You really haven’t heard?” 

Petit shrugged. 

“Is there anything about that in the prophecy?” The governor asked Irvik. He also shrugged. “Curses.” She continued. “I have been extremely busy what with the sudden lack of a leading figure, so if you could send this fellow off with an apprentice or something of the like right now that would be lovely. I simply don’t have the time for pleasantries, and if he is who he says he is then he’ll just complete the prophecy anyway.” 

“I am who I say I am! Who I say I am just isn’t who everyone else says I am!” Petit interjected, though he lost himself halfway through the sentence. 

The governor shot him a confused look. “Whatever. Just get it done, please.” She gave a quick bow, clearly one she had no emotion in but one which she was required to perform for one reason or another. Immediately afterward, she left back out of the room. 

Petit turned to Irvik. “Apprentice?” 

Irvik shrugged again. He was not a very aware individual. 

... 

“What are we gonna do?” Milly said, craning her neck up at the city above. 

“We’re gonna get Petit back.” Enrika sat on a rock, boredly drawing pictures in the dirt with a stick. 

“And how are we gonna do that?” 

“Probably gonna have to climb a tree.” Enrika groaned. She was not enthusiastic to go about climbing any trees, particularly tall ones such as the ones the pixies were hanging out on. “You got another idea.” 

Milly drew in a breath, preparing to say something. She paused for a moment, making Enrika’s anticipation mount. “Nah, I got nothin’.” Milly said flatly. 

Enrika threw her hands in the air. 

“I guess that leaves me with no other options, huh?” Enrika said. 

“Guess not. Say, while you’re up there, think you could grab me a souvenir?” Milly requested, moving towards one of the more optimal trees. She bent down into a squat, leaning against the tree, and laced her fingers together to provide a foothold.  

“I’ll see what I can do.” Enrika placed her foot into Milly’s hands.  

Enrika prepared for a strong shove but was surprised with just how strong it was. Milly launched her up, getting proper airtime, high enough that she could grab a branch higher than the one she had been aiming for. Hurriedly lifting herself up, Enrika clambered atop the limb. From there, she stood up, holding her arms around the trunk for balance, and grabbed onto another, thinner, branch. She pulled herself up it and repeated the process for another branch, each time gaining altitude. 

Her breathing grew heavier as she got higher. Enrika was not one for heights.  

The city was growing nearer, now. Summoning what courage she had, she continued upwards. 

Structures became visible. Dangling huts and branches that extended across the trees, the shimmering blue lights that Enrika had noticed before. 

Many of the pixies were noticing her. They congregated, flew into the huts, or simply flew away. 

“Hey!” She cried out. “I don’t know which one of you is in charge here, but if you don’t give me back my friend, I’ll have to do... something!” 

They didn’t answer. Some of the congregated backed up, others retreated to the huts. 

“The guy! The tiny one, you took him and I want him back!” Enrika elaborated. 

No response of any kind.  

Enrika turned around, raising her tail threateningly. “Someone talk, or I’ll gas this place to the underworld and back!” She shouted. 

“Hey!” Enrika’s ears pricked up. It was a voice she recognized.  

“Petit?” She turned around. 

“Howdy.” Petit waved. He was in some new outfit, just hanging about casually. 

“Uh, hi. I’m here to, uhm, save you from the pixies.” Enrika grew confused. 

“Aww, thanks!” Petit grinned. “Fairies, by the way. Pixies is a rude term.” A pixie, no, a fairy guard approached the shrunken man, saying something Enrika couldn’t hear. “No, that won’t be necessary, Irvik, she’s my friend.” Petit said to the guard, gesturing to Enrika. 

“What’s going on here?” Enrika glanced around, trying to get even a meagre understanding of the events that had unfolded for Petit to have enough authority to order around guards. 

“Some prophecy, apparently. I don’t know.” Petit shrugged.  

Enrika looked at him, dumbfounded.  

“I’ll be over there in a sec, I’m just waiting for something.” An awkward silence fell over the city while they waited for whatever it was they were waiting for. 

“Milly also wants a souvenir.” Enrika broke the silence. 

Petit looked to his side at the guard. “You heard her, she’s an acquaintance.” The guard flew off. 

“So, what are we waiting for?” Enrika asked. 

“Just give it a moment.” Petit answered. 

A group of fairies approached Enrika, carrying what looked to be a pan flute, composed of several bamboo shoots of descending length placed together. They placed it in her hand, though they shot her a dirty look while doing so, clearly not fond of giving gifts to someone who had threatened to stink bomb their town, especially a beast-kin.  

Enrika looked down to the base of the tree and held out the pan flute for Milly to see. Milly smiled and gave her a thumbs-up. It had a rope attached to it, which allowed Enrika to hang it conveniently over her neck, freeing her hands for her later descent to the ground. 

When Enrika looked back up, another fairy had appeared beside Petit. A woman, this time. She gave him a tight hug. 

Enrika felt a spike of jealousy, but it quickly settled. “Are we ready to go?” 

“Yes.” Petit answered. “This is Midori, she’s going to join us!” He exclaimed excitedly.

“That’s... great.” Enrika spoke through gritted teeth, wearing a pained smile.

“Alright, you can head back. Midori will help me down.”

Enrika didn’t like the idea, but what could she do? She obviously couldn’t hold him, since her hands would be occupied, and he couldn’t go on her person because he’d just fall off. Putting him in her pants flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as stupid – as much as she would have liked it.

She was a tad envious watching Petit gently float down, while she had to torturously climb and put herself in harm’s way, but that was life, she supposed.
 Yes.” Petit answered. “This is Midori, she’s going to join us!” He exclaimed excitedly. 

“That’s... great.” Enrika spoke through gritted teeth, wearing a pained smile. 

“Alright, you can head back. Midori will help me down.”  

Enrika didn’t like the idea, but what could she do? She obviously couldn’t hold him, since her hands would be occupied, and he couldn’t go on her person because he’d just fall off. Putting him in her pants flashed across her mind, but she quickly dismissed it as stupid – as much as she would have liked it. 

She was a tad envious watching Petit gently float down, while she had to torturously climb and put herself in harm’s way, but that was life, she supposed. 

“Oh, Petit! Are you okay? Thank goodness Enrika went up there to save you.” Enrika heard Milly greet, unaware of the preceding conversation. 

“Umm, yeah, thank goodness!” Petit clearly trying to help Enrika save face. 

“Alright, pixie, you can fly off now.” Millicent shooed Midori. 

“No, she’s... she’s coming with us.” Petit corrected. 

“Oh.” Milly said disappointedly. 

Enrika dismounted the tree, landing on the ground with as agile a roll as she could manage. She still hurt her leg a bit, though. Milly gave her a confused look, glancing over at Midori. Enrika merely shrugged. 

“Bye guys! Thanks for everything, I’ll defeat that great evil for ya!” Petit happily waved up at the city above, its citizens whooping and cheering. He looked back to the group. “You guys ready to go?”