Sunlight peaked around the drapes, glaring angrily in my face. I grumbled and rolled onto my stomach, burying my face into the flat, understuffed pillow that had been provided by Meg's family. I waited unsuccessfully for sleep to return, twitching my tail back and forth with restlessness. Char had an older son who was married and living on his own. She put Blank and I up in his old room, much to the girls' disappointment. Still, I was not surprised to find Blank had not slept in his own bed. He probably hadn't slept at all.

I soon grew tired of lying around. I dressed and wandered downstairs to find Char preparing a breakfast of pancakes and eggs. Josie appeared at in the doorway as I sat down, Blank in tote as he welded a satisfied grin.

"Good morning, boys," Char greeted warmly as she served us. "Sleep well?"

Blank opened his mouth to speak but promptly shut it when Josie shot him a glaring look. I stared at my plate and took a bite, struggling to subdue my rising smirk. The food wasn't bad, especially the fresh brown eggs I assumed came from the hen house I'd seen in the backyard.

"Quite well, thank you, ma'am," I said politely, looking up from my plate, slipping into charming gentleman mode. "Your home is as delightful as the presence of your lovely daughters."

Char glowed with pride. "Aw, you flatter me. You boys think ye'd like to stay with us longer? I sure'd like strong lads like y'all as my son-in-laws!"

"I sure wouldn't mind," Blank smiled at some private joke. How good of a time had he had with Josie last night?

"Where'd Meg?" I wondered, noticing her seat still remained empty.

"Aw, he's attached to her already," Char mumbled to herself, hopes swelling. "She's already left for church. She goes early `cause she sings with them chorusers. Never heard a prettier voice than my Meg! Sings like a bird, she does. My son--he don't live with us, you know--will come by after breakfast and give you boys a ride to the service. Hope yer religious!"

Neither Blank nor I were, but we didn't mention it. I'm not ashamed to be a dreamer, but I have my own vision of the universe. Sure there was proof that eidolons of gods existed, but what good was worshipping an immortal that one of the gifted summoners could control? Besides, summoners were probably extinct since one hadn't been seen on the Mist Continent in generations. Save the rumors about that cute princess--Garnet's her name?--of Alexandria. But a rumor's just that, a rumor. I'm not keen on living by the gossip I hear. Anyway, these hicks probably worshipped Ceres, the Goddess of Fertility or something like that. I'm no expert. Still, it would be interesting to see what kind of ceremony they put on.

A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts. "Maw!" a gruff voice called and the door swung open. I squinted to make out the figure in the doorway without being blinded by the light peaking in around him. He was a big man, broad shouldered and beer-bellied. The family's trademark frizzy blonde poked out from under a dirty straw hat. A hairy chest was fully visible under his dirty overalls. Obviously church wasn't an occasion to dress up for.

Mama Char ushered us out of our seats and towards the door. "Bubba, these are them two boys I told y'bout last night," she said as she greeted her son with a hug and kiss on the cheek. He peered down at us and broke into a gaping, mostly toothless grin.

"Them two pipsqueaks is the ones you want m'baby sisters to marry so badly?" he said with his hands on his hips in a motherly fashion.

"At least I ain't marryin' my cousin!" Josie retorted, curling her arm protectively around Blank's shoulders. Feeling uncomfortable was an understatement. The family was speaking as if we were engaged to Josie and Meg.

"Ouch," Bubba covered his heart dramatically as if he'd been wounded. "I suppose if y'overlook the belt brow an' furry thing coming out of that guy's ass they ain't too bad. Well, come `long now. Mama wants you two t'get t'know the family so I'm taking you to church." Oh, goody.

Char shooed us out the door and waved goodbye.

Blank and I followed Bubba out of the storybook yard towards a shabby cart pulled by a shabbier mule. A tiny, dark young woman sat in the front seat nursing an infant. Her belly swelled with pregnancy under a dusty, faded blue dress. A little girl, hardly past toddlerhood, sat beside the woman holding her hand.

"This is m'wife of four years now, Helen. She ain't much to look at, but she's a tough little gal. I's hopin' this next baby's gonna be a boy. We lost our second babe to a fever," Bubba explained as we approached. "Pity, too. Lil' feller was a boy. So I's hopin' I married a woman capable o'givin' me another son, a strong one this time."

I bit my lip to refrain from commenting. How appalling! This man was disturbingly ignorant of the simple biology behind determining a child's gender.

"Hon, these are them boys Mama saved from Fluffy yesterday mornin'. Told ya that beast was good fer somethin'. He found my baby sisters a couple o'fellers, strange as they are." Helen peered down at as and smiled faintly. She clutched her infant and turned to play with the babe's hair. "Err... what was yer names?"

"Blank and Zidane," Blank said dryly, not bothering to be charming. Obviously he was an unimpressed as I was.

"Well I'll be if I heard a pair of stranger names! I suppose I'll have t'get used to `em when y'all marry my sisters."

What was it with these people and their obsession with marriage? I was getting tired of it all. Bubba didn't give ma a chance to explain. He continued speaking.

"Helen, you get down from there an' let them new friends sit there," the big man barked. The frail woman lifted her daughters over the seat into the back of the wagon before climbing over herself and settling in on the flat bed covered with straw and something that looked and smelled like manure.

"Don't worry," Bubba said when he saw the looks of appallment on our faces. "She don't mind, really, she knows her place."

Blank and I reluctantly clambered onto the bench, squeezing on either side Bubba.

"Get!" he shouted, cracking the reigns. His beast slowly started down the path towards church.

In my earlier memories, I can recall spending some time in the care of a grandmotherly lady who took care of kids she found on the street. I couldn't have been more that six. I fidgeted uncomfortably in my Sunday's best, feet dangling off the pew.

"Pay attention, lad," the granny would say, scolding, when ever she took note of the misty eyed look I obtained when daydreaming. That lifestyle didn't keep my interest long. I ran away shortly after and met Blank. I hadn't stepped into a church since, yet alone thought about that cranky old spinster, but sitting through the lackluster religious session and constant drawling of the priest reading ancient scrolls resurfaced the old memories.

Perhaps it was worth putting up with Bubba's menacing looks to hear the chorus. Cute girls in matching white robes (although even more who were not so cute) sang a few songs offering thanks to the gods who watched over and the "Mother Gaia" who gave life. I gazed at Meg, whose face was flushed as she stepped forward and led her own solo. I'd preformed in a play about a girl who's song could enchant any man (save the one she loved, but that is how tragedies often go). I preferred action to gushy romance performances, but I believed there was truth behind the suggestion that music is a way to control Gaia's magic. Meg's sweet, high drawls backed with the rest of the chorus wasn't just a simple song about being thankful, it opened the souls of everyone present, allowing just a small glance into the greater harmony of the universe.

After the service, Blank and I walked solemnly back to the wagons. We rode back with Char, whose daughters insisted they couldn't stand being separated from their "cutie pies." We eagerly obliged, glad the bonding experience with Bubba was through. It was almost a relief to ride in the clean, open buggy driven by Char. The four of us sat in the two benches facing each other while Char perched up front, directing a pair of brown mares.

Black perched his arm casually over Josie's shoulder, who melted into his side. He's leading her on, I though bitterly. Josie thinks he actually will take her as his bride. She's just a cute girl to Blank, an easy lay and temporary source of attention. I looked down at Meg's dainty fingers, lost in my big, gloved hand. But how much better am I, I thought, making little effort to discourage Meg's fancy? Then again, I wasn't taking advantage of the naive girl by filling her heart with false promises and robbing her virginity and self respect before taking off and leaving her shamed and possibly pregnant. It just wasn't worth it. I loved Blank like a brother, but he didn't think further ahead that his next orgasm. Maybe I was being to hard on him. Josie was older, perhaps as experience as Blank. Who knew? I'm not one who should judge.

"Wasn't m'sis great?" Josie interrupted my silent debate. "Sure wish I could sing," she continued, "but I ain't able to carry a tune. A rooster got a purdier voice than I do!"

"Aww, Josie, you flatter me," Meg remarked, squeezing my hand.

"You fellers like the downtown?" Char called back over the cluh-clap of hooves and squeaking wheels. We passed a few old buildings lining the road. One read "Genera Store" (complete with missing L and all). Neighs, bikas, and cock-a-doodle-doos drifted out of Wilber's Feed-n-Tack while a man in a suit hung an open sign on a saloon. I made a mental note to stop at the bar if we had a chance.

"Pa should be home," Meg said commentarily with mild excitement.

"Where was he?" I asked with surprise. I'd assumed they didn't have a father around anymore. Divorce was probably unheard of in this small town. The differences between country life and the city constantly amazed me.

"Huntin'!" the three barked in unison. Oh boy. Did I dare ask more?

"Mama, do you think I could go to school in the city?" Meg asked, changing the subject to an even more unpleasant one. She spoke almost jokingly, just curious for a response.

"Why in tarnation would you wanna do that?" Char chuckled. "Ye know how to read an' write, an' that's more than I could say at your age! Kids these days, always dreamin' of what they dun need!"

Meg smirked. "I told you so," she whispered and gave me a quick peck on the cheek as if to make up for it.

"You're right as always, Mama," the girl stated loudly. By this time the wagon was approaching the family's cottage. Meg and Josie hopped off before it stopped and ran to give their father a hug. I eyed the short, plump man. Sunlight reflected off a bald head. At least he wore a flannel shirt under his overalls, sparing us the sight of his beer belly. Slung over his shoulder was an old fashioned weapon I didn't see used much, a rifle.

Char greeted her husband with a kiss on each cheek. "Welcome back, darlin'! Was your trip a success?"

"Aye, hon. Nearly crushed when I bagged me a whale zombie, I was."

"A zombie! I ain't gonna feed my girls rotten meat. `Tis probably enchanted!"

"Dun worry yerself, luv. `Tis only a sport. Now, who are these strange fellers? Do I dare hope me daughters went an' got hitched?"

"Not yet, but soon enough," Char answered with a wide grin.

"Daddy, this is my little Blank and that'un is Meg's Zidane. Ain't they cute?"

The man snorted and peered up at us. "Humph. Queer lot if y'ask me, but I's seen worse. Why don't you girls go inside with yer mama and make lunch?"

The girls nodded and followed Char into the house. When the door shut, the man unslung his weapon and used it to support his weight as he casually leaned against the barrel.

"Well, I've never seen a man w'a tail or a feller with a belt around his head, but yer still better suitors than any of the folks in Greenburrow. Y'all like me girls, no?"

"Yes sir," we chanted.

The father scooped up his rifle and leveled it at our chests, waving it between the two of us. I nearly knocked the weapon aside and plunged my dagger into his gut.

"You been talkin' purdy to my girls?" We nodded vigorously. "Well, I can't settling for no boys hurtin' my babies' feelin's!" He butted my check with the gun. "Now... ye both are gonna keep yer promises, right?" Rapid nods. "Good. Hope tomorrow ye'll still feel the same way `cause m'rifle `ere ain't keen on fickles who change their minds."