Sunday, July 26th

THE ROCKET TOWN TERROR

A Backwoods Mystery Devours Local Peace of Mind

By TAMAR E. CHARTROUSE

A town embellished by the far off Nibelheim Mountains, thorny thicket, and over grown evergreen is no stranger to the intrusion of wild life. When nature bites, there's enough man power in this rough and tough industrial village to bite back. However, "no one was expecting a [bite] this big, or this vicious" – Howard D., owner of the local Corner Store, commented upon the loss of one of his domestic wild stock. He awoke one morning to find a thrashed fence, an upturned yard, and only two of four beloved sheep. Mr. Howard isn't the only Rocket Town resident to rise with the sun and discover pets gruesomely replaced with blood. Perhaps, there was a hungry wolf on the prowl?! Perhaps not.

In early June, the first victim dealt death by a mysterious attacker was Mrs. Debora, manager of Astronomic Crafts, Fabric, and More. She lost her tabby cat, Pookie, to the terror in the early morning. Like Mr. Howard, nothing but blood remained. Following, the widowed Mrs. Arabella Patel and her own pet, were attacked less than a week later. Extensive damage, much like the slashing of sharp claws, (shown in image 1) was found along the side of her house. The list lengthened soon after; from cat, to sheep, to a goat, and finally two fully grown chocobos owned by Mr. Randy Tseult.

"Animals, and in increasing order of size… we'll eventually find some of our residents on its menu…"—to quote Professor Ross Frankenhalther, long time technical engineer, and current Head of Rocket Town Community Board. Eventually, a six o'clock meeting was called to discuss the frightening nightly issue at the Town Hall. With the court room packed, several residents informed the Town Committee of their encounters with the creature. What exactly was this elusive predator?

"It left before I could see any more of it, but it looked to be some sort of dog...It's between seven and ten feet tall. Maybe eight hundred to a thousand pounds. It could walk upright on two, and down on fours..." Recorded in the meeting dialogue, Shera Joules appeared to be the only resident able to provide a visual for the so called beast. This was odd in hindsight. Interestingly enough, her partner, Captain Cid Highwind, volunteered himself and the prior vigilante group AVALANCHE to address the problem. According to Ms. Joules the supposed capture of the creature took trial and error. "They caught it in a snare around the very back of the woods... They had it taken away as far as I know." Since then, there haven't been many reports. However, evidence of the creature still remains on a nightly basis. Residents report enormous paw prints that lead to nowhere, and if you're up late enough, you can hear its other worldly howl.

If the issue has been labeled resolved, where is the full explanation for what the creature is, and why it attacked? Where exactly was the creature taken? From the sound of it, idiotically, not too far away. It's alarming that the culprit hasn't been properly displayed to residents. If the reader has wondered this, I've wondered it myself. There's much more to the story than pest control, and I was lucky enough to retrieve a succulent clue after being invited into the Captain's Quarters on a late, mid-July night. I had the chance to personally interview Shera Joules, Captain Highwind's confidant. [The digital recording of this interview can be found in the Local Archive] In contrast to the Captain's total un-cooperation, she was very reluctant to disclose information for reasons I was unsure of at the time. Being that she was the only resident to have an adequate look at Rocket Town's Terror, I assumed she would be more than willing to aid the investigation. This is when I became suspicious of an unannounced collaboration. Upon leaving, I discovered both Captain Highwind and Ms. Joules have been withholding material regarding a closed, synthetic experiment, and an anonymous four legged associate. Are our favorite mechanics engineering more than generators?

That's right, the Rocket Town Terror's bite may not be all that natural…

II.

"Captain…have you read the paper?" Shera had the crinkled, grey pages poised over a soggied bowl of cereal at the dining table. Her neutral reading expression had gradually shifted to a scowl. Cid had been watching her hazel eyes flow, then dart, and then finally squint from section to section. It must not have been good.

"I don't read Tamar's piece of shit paper." The Captain grumbled over the very edge of a plastic cup. He scratched the scraggy beard (yes, beard) of his chin and prepared himself to be highly irritated when Shera decided to pass the Daily Rocket over.

"You might want to read this one. It's on the front page…" Sullenness became unreadable; clashing with the expression Shera usually made when she was deep in worrisome thoughts.

The sound of Shera pushing aside dishes in the sink filled the momentary silence the kitchen fell in. She looked back over her shoulder; trying to catch Cid's initial reaction to what probably wasn't the last of Tamar's thoughts on the past month or so.

"…Y'know what?" Cid tossed it aside. It hit the table with a sharp smack, and he abruptly stood from his chair. He ruffled the unkempt mat of hair growing near the back of his head while he readjusted the strap of his working goggles.

"What?" She could already sense what the Captain was going to say. Her frown became lopsided.

"She can shove that goddamn folder up her ass." Cid stomped up behind her and dunked his plate in the sink. It loudly clattered against the metallic dip at the bottom.

"Don't you think it's crowded? I'm not going back to get it a second time, and certainly not from there, Captain." Shera met his disgruntled gaze when she had a chance to swivel around and face him. That was the reaction she was expecting, and so was the uneasiness that was set into those blue, blue eyes.

Cid sighed. "Ain't nothin' we can do about it, I guess. S'not like people take her seriously anyway." He looped an arm around Shera's waist and tugged her up to his chest (which had been becoming a new habit of his). She didn't offer any protest to his hold and slung her arms around the denseness of his waist.

"For once in her whole shabby writing career, she's remotely accurate." Shera's voice was muffled in the sturdy line of Cid's shoulder. "People are probably going to question us about what she's talking about…" She let out an exasperated huff through her nostrils. "I only like hot water when I cook, and in my baths, okay."

"Hold that thick ass of yours and snap your jaw tighter. You n' I've been in hotter." Cid playfully locked Shera in a grapple against him. His lips and the hair of his chin tickled her neck beneath her bangs.

"Believe me. I know hot water." Cid used to be the one to boil the kettle and pour it right over her head. That was beside the point. "I know you hate keeping secrets, Cid. If you won't say anything. I won't either." Shera muscled past her urge to laugh from Cid's blown raspberries, and gave his waist a warm pat. She could feel the stiff taping of his old bandages beneath his shirt and wondered if they were healing. "How are you feeling?" It was becoming a regular question.

"M alright…" The Captain's voice grained. "Same ol' same ol'. I ain't kill anything last night, did I?"

"Is that the new conversation starter?" Shera nosily pulled the bottom of his dark undershirt from behind his belted pants. "No, but you left again. It took you a little longer to come back this time. Nanaki and I were worried."

"Did I ah, come back with anything?" As odd as it was, he was starting to look forward to all the junk he left himself. Ten foot support brackets, reinforced pipes, industrial sized steel wires, screws and bolts bigger than his leg. It was pretty damn good junk if you asked him.

"Not this time. I wish I could ask you what in the world you were doing, but you have no idea either." Cid held still while she pulled the tape away, taking a few of his belly hairs with them. Shera peeked beneath the gauze and lightly touched one of his bite wounds. It was pink and tender like a lot of his other dents and scratches, but they finally looked like they were beginning to heal. She pressed all the taping back and re-tucked his shirt beneath his pants. It reminded her to call and check on Yuffie as well.

"As long as I came back, and I ain't hurt nothin'. That's all that matters." Cid loosened his grip on Shera's middle. "I've got to mosey to the warehouse in a bit to finish movin' more of those chew toys." He winked. "You wanna come and meet some of the new fellas?"

"I'll think about it, Captain."

III.

"Pst…hey."

Shera tightened her jaw and responded to the whisper across the convenience store aisle with a micro-aggressive glare. She pressed her glasses up the bridge of her nose, and placed the liquid pain relief label she was examining down. "Can I help you?"

"Tammy says you know what that killer dog thing was. That true?" It was the town comedian of all people; nosily poking his head through an organized shelf of adult diapers and feminine hygiene boxes. Shera would have snickered if she weren't already annoyed.

"Look, I really don't know. She's pointing fingers at the wrong person. I really have things to do today, so—"

"It's not the little fella staying with you guys, right? You know." He covered his right eye and held his other hand up like a floppy ear on his head.

"Nanaki. And, no, he has nothing to do with the attacks." For the last damn time.

"You sure? I don't want to be the one to bark up the wrong tree, but Tams sure was making an awful lot of sense."

"…" Shera glowered.

"Alright, er, well um. Sniff ya later."

IV.

"Long day?" The light of Nanaki's tail illuminated the mat Shera had folded her legs over. She was nervously combing through her hair with her fingers; eyes trained on the dark, swaying pattern of the tree line. The moon above was shrouded by clouds, making it harder to see tonight. Cid had left again (she couldn't for the life of her figure out how he kept slipping away undetected), and he was properly fed so there wasn't much to worry about, but it still made her nervous. Honestly, all she expected was for him to come back by dawn with more dug up scraps from nowhere in particular.

"A very long day. I feel like I'm going to pass out, either from pure anger, or a pure lack of sleep." Shera let go of her hair, and her arms fell with a plop to her lap. She absentmindedly scratched at a mosquito bite on her inner thigh.

"I would say that my day was long, but I think I've collected more sleep than you, or I suppose, as much as I was allowed." Nanaki licked his jaws and sank down on his side. His back made a good support, so Shera leaned against him.

"Why do you say that?" She scratched another itchy welt on the inside of her knee.

"I was asked a lot of questions today." Red grumbled.

"So was I. The woman who stared you down the other week, she's the same one who scared off Cid the first night he was back home." Shera expelled a huff of air through her lips and it ruffled her disheveled bangs. "She wrote an article suspecting we're in on some experiment, and I guess everyone got their paper this morning. I think she's highly suspicious of you, too."

"I see. The most popular question I was asked today was…What are you?" Nanaki spoke in a false, nasally voice; muzzled crinkled up to show his teeth.

"What was it?! Was it him?!" Shera's voice was high pitched and shrill like a frightened old woman. Likewise, her nose had scrunched between her eyes. "Rumor is, Tamar is going to write a follow up. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried."

"You wonder what she knows?" Nanaki yawned. He lifted his head higher and howled to receive an estimate of where Cid was. A short moment passed, and then a response. He was hardly audible. Far.

"I do. You think she'll figure out it's Cid?" Shera whispered. There needed to be an easier way to keep track of him, or at least, one that didn't require an 'other worldly howl'.

"You live with your partner, and your discovery took some time."

"That's very true."

Nanaki snorted a bit. It sounded like a laugh.

"Something funny?" Shera curiously gazed down at him.

"My grandfather told me something once. I was just remembering it." He began. "When there was more of us in existence, the arrival of summer usually meant the infatuated males would journey far, far into the desert."

"The desert…?" His story seemed a little random to her, but Shera didn't interrupt.

"Yes. Miles of travel beyond the canyon. Hot sun. No water. They endured this sort of torture to find cactuses, of all things. They scaled sharp needles as well, to pluck the most beautiful, succulent buds from the bunches that grow around them. And when they thought they'd found the most beautiful one, they journeyed back and presented them to their potential mates for approval." Nanaki hummed.

"And what if the holder of their affection didn't seem very interested? I'd be a little heartbroken if I went through all of that effort."

"They would venture back, and select another until they were! It's unrelenting instinct. Strange courtship, I think, though, I've never experienced the traditional urge myself. Perhaps one day I will for someone special." His voice was musing in tone. Nanaki glanced back up and his wise eye met Shera's in the near dark.

"Huh." Her shoulders relaxed while she gnawed on the food for thought. "That's pretty interesting, Nanaki."

V.

"Delete…Delete…Delete." She was lucky her coffee was more bitter than she was. Shera had just finished going through voicemail after obnoxious voicemail on the home phone, only to realize that she had received plenty more boisterous messages on her cellular. All complaints and concerns about the same thing; what did she have to hide? Ironically, Ross was the only person she hadn't heard from this fresh, new month. Sigh. The only thing to cheer her up was her new thirty-Gil-an-hour paycheck, and a confirmation email that Cid's trial prescription had been shipped on two day express.

VI.

They both should have known.

"Cid, come on, hold still."

"Do you fuckin' know what you're doin'?!" He did not hold still. Cid leaned over the upstairs bathroom sink, red faced and all, with the band of his underwear pulled down to reveal the round of his bottom. The Captain was expecting pills when Reeve told them that they were done blitzing tests on lab rats.

"Yes, I'm following the instructions. Don't clench." Shera's expression was a steady one, but on the inside she was highly amused.

"But, Shera—"

"Relax. Do not clench." She waited a good minute before it was safe to stick Cid with the syringe. He stiffened at the very last second and yowled in stinging pain. "Now look at what you did. You're going to be sore." Shera scornfully clicked her tongue and assuaged the injection site.

VII.

The first set of three week trial injections were labeled a failure by Shera herself. She wasn't a scientist in that particular field of research, but she could tell when something wasn't working. The counter that had been shipped to them initially, only delayed transformations, but then stopped working all together. Within the second reprise of Cid's sleep cycle, he took to sleep walking, and she, Nanaki, and Cloud who had thankfully come to check up on him, were not prepared for a savagely increased appetite.

When they finally caught up with him two miles past the empty launch pad, they witnessed Cid in mid dash after a very, very, very unlucky white tailed deer. Dirt and dust flew in the dark a.m. It didn't have a chance. Cid ran it to the ground, and crunched its neck in two. Shera, who had gagged the instant it happened, was reminded that Cid was a predator.

She contacted Reeve the very next morning.

VIII.

Shera was quite clearly holding Cid's hand atop the dining room table, and maybe, that was the only remarkable thing their current residential visitor had to report on either of them. The Captain's Quarters was getting more knocks, and doorbells; surprise appearances. Shera suspected most never really came for a wholehearted chat over tea; more so, to see if they were hoarding anything distrustful. No one had anything better to do. The howling went on at night. Nothing missing, but lots of things were strangely being left behind. Burned grass. Plenty of dog hair…

But there she was, going on about something they really didn't care about. And there Cid was, in and out of a snoring cat nap, while his assistant held one of his roughed up hands on top of the table; her thumb gently, absently stroking his knuckles.

IX.

"Hey, um, Captain H…Did you dye your hair?" Young buck probably could have gone without asking, but their moody supervisor was a slippery slope of downright strange.

More than that. He was starting to look really strange. Cid's hair had grown (and he made no effort to cut it) fairly fast in the oncoming of early fall, and well, not that the young engineer paid that much attention, but he could have sworn the Captain was more of a golden than a red. Old men went through midlife crisis, right? He always imagined they preferred flashy red cars and bikinis, not full heads of red hair.

"No? I ain't dye my fuckin' hair." Cid barked back over loud welding. "Mind your damn business!"

X.

Shera really was trying to ignore her, but it was hard with crow's feet ridden eyes burning holes into the side of her face. She was just in line at the bank; needing to deposit her check so she could stock up on things to feed Cid this month.

"Fancy seeing you here." And she would say something. Shera could see Tamar cross her arms out of the corner of her eye. She pushed the glare of the security camera out of her glasses and very slowly met her face to face across the velvet line makers.

"Hm?" She pretended she hadn't heard the reporter address her.

"You and Capn' have been quiet, huh?" Tamar moved up a place in line.

"So have you. No personal article this month, Detective Tamar?" Shera quoted with her fingers; feeling rather catty.

"I have been…withheld from printing for institutional reasons." She pursed her lips and placed her cigarette holder between her teeth. "All the more time to catch, collect, and record. My holding will be up just in time to dazzle the town for the cold months. A good chiller. Better hope you, your boyfriend, and your dogfriend don't slip up. Don't think I'm not watching."

"You know what I heard, Tamar?" Some people in line with rubbery ears were listening closely; instigating in their heads.

"What the hell do you fucking know, Mrs. Highwind? Enlighten me."

"I know you can't write because Ross caught you going through her phone records."

XI.

The butcher, who couldn't be bothered to stick his nose in the idle gossip of town, kind of got to thinking. Ms. Joules and sometimes Captain Highwind, had gotten in the habit of ordering much, much more than a few pounds of meat for weekly meals. He scratched his chin, covered by a hairnet, and blinked at the hefty total of Shera's purchase on the store's register.

"Little lady, what in the world do you need all this meat for?" He coated his question in jolliness as not to appear nosy like everyone else here. He faintly remembered friends of hers coming in and placing the same order a long while ago. He was going to need more stock if people were going to clean him out like this.

"Can never be too prepared for winter, Sir. Trying out bulk shopping, that's all." Shera very gently smiled.

"Shucks! Who you feedin'? If you're planning a roast, I want in."

"If we have one to warm up this winter, you're first on the list. Thank you very much." She took her ticket and pushed all that she had purchased out in a wheel barrel.

XII.

All of her tea had been replaced with experimental mixtures of cider and ale (an early birthday present from Tifa), and served to warm her when the cold air began to drift down from the distant mountains. She sat out in the chill and strewn leaves of the yard, keeping her eyes on Cid who was stark naked and nearly sound asleep on the dense quilt beside her. Nanaki had placed himself up on the porch, probably napping in peace now that his stomach no longer bothered him.

She had been getting better sleep. Shera finally carved out a day to day pattern settled around Cid's sleep walking, but her mind and sometimes her body still plagued her. Her head was muddled. Reeve had given her very unsettling news. It wasn't because he had given her a bulk of info, it was the way he gave her a lack of. Voice low and uneasy like he wasn't sure if he could explain all that he found.

"I got just enough of the network running to collect Hojo's recordings. There's… a lot more here than I expected…"

Shera pressed the wary from her head and produced a tablet from the inside of her shoulder bag. A notification at the very corner of the screen alerted her to some new filings on chemical research, and a confirmation for another injection set shipment. It also looked like they were just now logging autopsies on Hojo's other two victims.

She was apprehensive at first and considered maybe she was better off not knowing, but selected the package of data anyway. Father of three, a Costa Del Sol florist; his name was Braxton, and he died unrecognizable by those who knew him. It said he was shot through the chest by a mainland poacher. Shera bit her tongue and swiped through images of him. He was much smaller than Cid, bloodied, and lifeless with said poacher holding his muzzle to the camera.

Felix was the name of the other man. He was found as a beast by his brother, but in the time he awoke, he passed away from exhaustion. She exited out of the data application and shoved the tablet back down into depths of her bag. He was middle aged, scruffy, and dead, and Shera couldn't help but imagine that it could have been her scruffy, middle aged man.

XIII.

Not only did the third trial (Cid didn't like to talk about the second) not work, but it threw him for even more of a hormonal loop. A little drowsiness was doable. So was the occasional spell of nausea and being hungry out the wazoo. But holy shit did it make him horny.

And it was noticeable. So he called Reeve and didn't explain why they should fuckin' scrap it.

Shera kept her 'happy to see me' jokes to herself, but she did notify Cid that her only objective at night that week was to run around the yard, and try and fail at keeping him from nipping her bottom. Tifa had tag teamed in for Cloud while he had deliveries to make. She was also a tush-nipped victim. It was the running joke that month.

XIV.

"What's that ya got there?" Barret was her company for tonight while Nanaki had traveled away to visit his grandfather. He had both arms, gun and all, wrapped under Cid's jaw.

"It's just a bell." The easy part was getting Cid to hold…relatively still. The hard part was getting him to allow her to tie it somewhere where it wouldn't fall off. "If I don't follow him around, sometimes he slips away from me. He's so quiet. It's hard to figure out when, or where he goes." Shera clamored over the dense thicket of hair around Cid's neck that had now hidden his face from view. She gave up with trying to tie the bell there, and pushed all her body weight into holding one of his front legs still long enough to tie it there. He snapped up with a grunt when Shera had finished, and bumped her right in her ribs.

Barret released his grip to help Shera up to her feet. "You alright?!" He allowed her to use him as a support. Her face was held in a hiss until the ache ebbed.

"Yeah, I'm alright." She righted her granny glasses, and puffed out her cheeks. Cid shook the leaves from what could only be considered excessive fluff, and the silvery fall bell jingled with the porch chimes. "I'm going to hope he doesn't fancy chewing that off."

"He doesn't look like he's gonna fuss over it." Barret rubbed the chill from the underside of his nose. Your ribs still hurtin' ya, Shera?" She was bitten nearly three months ago. Barret thought she would have been feelin' a lot better by now, Yuffie, too. All the brat complained about in her messages was how Godo was making her swallow all kinds of nasty healing herbs.

"Every now and again. I was thinking that maybe it had gotten infected, but it's just taking its time healing." Shera lifted her hand to Cid's nose and rubbed whatever else was visible through his mane. She eventually found his luminescent, blue eyes and scratched between them. "Can't get away from me so easy now, can you?"

But he did. Right after chewing it off. Cid came back at dawn with an enormous engine gear and wouldn't leave her alone until she looked at it.

XV.

"Don't you get itchy?"

There really was nothing he could do about it. He complained about it for a long while, but his complaints were even worse when he was left shivering at night, and it was essential that Cid didn't make too much noise. No cutting, shaving, waxing, or tweezing (not that he would anyway).

Shera didn't have to make herself mind it. A little extra chest and belly hair never hurt anyone. She had to muffle her laughs when they got close in the shower. By winter Cid was officially an ombre strawberry blond, and with more than enough protein in his diet, thirty pounds over in insulation weight. If anyone recognized him, they were either bewildered, or highly concerned.

XVI.

"Are you like…on fucking steroids now, or something?" A vanilla biscuit hung out of the corner of Tamar's mouth. It was an early morning and the windows were fogged from the inside of the corner store's small cafe. He just wanted a fucking cup of coffee, not a conversation.

Cid tugged his scarf down from his face. He had been using it to keep his mouth and nose warm. "No? Are you on fucking menopause?" He retorted and slapped a couple of Gil down on the register counter.

"Sabrina says you're looking pretty beefy, Captain. Likes the whole lumber jack look." Tamar wore a slimy, eel-like grin. "One too many mugs at the tavern? What do they call those things? A beer belly?"

"There supposed to a point to you talkin' to me?"

"Yeah, big boy." The reporter popped down from her stool and sauntered over before Cid could grumble out. "Who's Reeve? Can't be the same one that held the public research chair for ye ol' ShinRa? I used to be a receptionist, you know. I know names." She narrowed her eyes at the Captain's tense expression. "Ross keeps chatting this guy up and I think he knows you."

"All Reeve is doing is funding my ship. I'm not in Ross' goddamn business." He turned to leave and Tamar caught him by the crease of his arm. Bits of Cid's coffee sloshed out from the rim of his cup.

"It's not your dog friend is it…?" Tamar whispered just loud enough for him to hear. "I didn't get to make any scans, but I remember what I read. I bet this hound thing is a person."

Cid's nostril's flared and his heart got to drumming in his ears. He wired his jaw shut.

"Who is it, huh? Is Ross in on it, does she know?" Tamar yanked when Cid tried ripping his arm away.

"Is it your pretty bunk buddy?"

"Shut the fuck up." He was probably down to half a cup of coffee now. Cid gave one final tug and barreled out. He couldn't fucking stand her. Or really, he couldn't stand that she was fucking right.

XVII.

She had let him hoist her up by the waist after dinner and place her bottom down on the dining room table. For the first time in a long time, it was just them. No visitors. No extra hands.

Cid wrapped his arms around her waist and Shera tilted her head ever so slightly so it was easier for his lips to reach her shoulder. The hair of his chin was warm and scratchy. She was trying not to laugh.

"Bad day?" She rubbed the back of Cid's neck. Her cheek pressed to his ear. He wanted to be able to lie down with her like this, on the couch, out on the porch, upstairs in his bedroom...without having to worry about falling asleep. Without having to worry about what was in blood. Without having to worry if he was going to hurt Shera again.

"Yeah…" He took her legs and wrapped them around his hips. The kettle on the stove was wheezing; filing the air with crisp apple. "I'm just tired, Shera."

"Mm…I know. We've got another try on the way." She played with his collar. "You were yourself for a long time last week. I thought you'd make it all night."

"Guess not. Can't wait long enough." Cid leaned his weight onto her chest and pressed her down over the length of the table. Shera squealed and it put a sharp grin on his face. "I'll be happy when one of these damn injections actually works!"

"Oof!" She grunted and crossed her ankles over his back. "C-cid. Sweetheart, you're heavy." Shera's hair was splayed out above her; spilling over the edge of the wood top. She pressed up with her stomach and Cid's pressed back.

"I ain't that heavy." He inhaled and playfully blew against the underside of her chin.

"Yes, yes you are!" Shera resisted and pushed on his shoulders. Her glasses were crooked and her cheeks flushed. Cid chuckled; smoothing her auburn bangs back over her forehead. He chewed the inside of his cheek. He didn't mean to get all caught up in her pretty hazel eyes. The kitchen grew quiet again. He hoped she knew he loved her.

"Are you going to stare at me, Captain? Or are you going to kiss me?"

"That what you want, darlin'?" For all of her trouble, maybe it was the least he could do.

"I'd like that very much."

XVIII.

Shera's eyes and her heart were still fluttering and warm. It kept her warmer than the beautiful (at least to her), yellow replacement sweater Cid had given her for her birthday in September, or her coat, or the leather gloves she was using to prevent her fingers from becoming icicles. She bunched her toes to keep her socks from slipping in her boots. She wasn't crazy, but she would have appreciated it if barefoot was an option at this time of year.

"Are you trying to leave me again?" Shera quietly cooed with her hand buried somewhere in the thicket of his chest. Her breath left her in icy puffs, and his big, wet nose steamed like her favorite kettle. "I'll hear you this time." She had pinned the silver bell to base of Cid's tail; a place he had plenty of difficulty reaching. It was an hour of pure entertainment watching him twist, turn, and contort himself in pursuit of it.

His ear flicked; batting her in the side of her head. Shera didn't have time to wonder if he did it on purpose. Cid lifted without much of a warning and turned in a trot to the outer field. Shera dug both hands into his coat and grappled up to the strong line of his back. She was panicking a bit, but he didn't appear to have any intention of shaking her off.

"Cid? Where are you going?" She rasped while trying to keep herself in place between the stride of his shoulders. He paused for only a moment to crane behind him and gingerly mouth her arm, and then continued on; passing his collection of dug up junk tossed near the Tiny Bronco. The empty launch pad glared down at them from beneath the pale light of the waxing gibbous moon. Shera stared up and caught fleeting, pearly clouds before they were swallowed by the dense dark of the evergreen canopy.

For something so big, and known for his boisterous nature, Cid moved swiftly and silently if you ignored the soft lull of the bell at his rump. Shera released the strain in her back and arms, and pushed herself up to the elevated support of her his warm neck. He dipped low beneath a rotten branch, and it just barely missed her head.

"Cid…" She called him again hoping he would stop and give her some time to sort what was happening. A strange kind of sensation had fallen over her and for some reason, she felt out of place. She wondered what was going on in that head of his. Was he truly asleep? Was he dreaming?

He wove through the terrain, following a memory map of where to jump and leap, what bend in the creek to cross. A long time had trickled away and the kiss of the moon, and the cold wind, and Cid's assertive steps, and his breathing, and his strong, strong heartbeat had put her to sleep. The jingling of the silver bell woke her hours into the morning like an alarm and Shera blinked in the dark; trying to remember that Cid had been taking her with him.

The area was totally unfamiliar. To be frank, it was a mess of dirt. Trees had been ripped from their roots, slashed, and pushed aside. It was nothing short of a muddy digging site. A whole field worth of forest had been turned into a pit. "Is this where you've been?" Shera more so spoke to herself than him. She slid from Cid's back, and he leapt down and out of sight for several moments.

Rubbing her arms, Shera stepped around other holes and shards of sheet metal protruding from the dirt. She really was starting to wonder. How in the world did he do all of this by himself? She didn't know what he had found, but all the 'junk' was starting to make sense. Whatever it was, he was bringing it back piece by piece. What a one tracked mind.

Cid's reappearance nearly frazzled her out of her winter jacket. She'd been so focused on her surroundings; trying to figure out what it was that she was treading over. He'd bumped her in the back with something clutched between his teeth.

"Is that for me?" Shera tried reaching for it. He wouldn't let her place her hands on it for a closer look until he had sat on his haunches, snorted the mud from his muzzle, and appeared presentable.

"Okay…can I see it now?" Cid opened his mouth with a grunt and the object fell to the dead grass and pine needles before her feet. She tightened her borrowed gloves, dragged it out to a beam of moonlight, and placed her hands on her hips in assessment. It was caked in dirt and a little rusty, but Shera knew exactly what it was. She took the large navigation wheel by the wooden spokes and propped it up against her hip.

"Captain?" Shera looked up at Cid. He was steady; watching her with deep interest. Shera was trying to find him in those eerie mako blue eyes, even if it was very hard to meet them. "You know what...?" She hoisted it up and held the heavy wheel on her shoulder. Shera held out her free hand and Cid pressed his nose there.

"I accept your succulent bud." A woeful grin ate at her cheeks. She smiled despite how tired she was, and appreciatively rubbed Cid between his ears. "Not the proposal I was expecting, but, I'm sure you'll get around to a real one eventually."