AN: I am going to go ahead and apologize because I took so long to even get around to writing this chapter. I know this one is shorter than the last few, but I can promise that the Kushala chapter will be much longer and very narratively important for the story as a whole. I've been developing a proper social life with friends and a job, so I've been preoccupied with other things, and I believe that is not an excuse to just leave you guys hanging. So here is the next chapter, and I hope you enjoy it:

"This inn will do," Alto-Eris shrugged, "forgive me but not many inns allow uncanna to stay in them. As much as we'd like to be welcoming to you and your kin… your kind aren't particularly hygienic."

The building itself was nothing special, and far as Pluck was concerned it didn't matter what it looked like as long as it had food. Shuffling past their guide, he pressed a claw against the inn's doors, but in his excitement, he had torn four long scars across the wooden surface. Attentively, Lowen opened the door for him, while making sure to avoid letting anyone see the property damage.

Pluck stepped in and took in the room. Men, women, dragons, wyverns, and etc. relaxed in their seats in communion. Some were having their afternoon meal, others were simply talking amongst themselves, while some played bored games. He could only note a black and white checkered board, and the occasional game of cards. Of course, Pluck could neither read nor tell what these games and cards actually meant.

Ducking beneath the low hanging beams his wings and tail flicked back and forth, uncomfortably. The prongs of his lance wings would hitch onto something, or his tail would accidentally knock into someone or into the furniture. So hungry was Pluck that he simply sat himself at the counter, looking at the food on display with ravenous eyes.

"Can I get you something, honey?", Bleary eyed he turned his gaze from the cleared countertop to the gentle dragon girl behind the counter. She was older than most he had came across, based off her long hair and mature demeanor. She wore an apron that covered her modesty, but the more noteworthy part of her clothing was the collar around her neck. He supposed it was some kind of traditional wear, he decided he didn't care for it.

"I need food," he grumbled tiredly, "I'm hungry."

She smiled and nodded, noting that he was uncanna and that she would need to roll up another tab for him. She left for the kitchen to greet her husband, Lowen took a seat beside him, and Alto-Eris took a protective position behind them. Why she felt the need to defend them was beyond him, but he supposed she felt the need from all the eyes turning their way.

Lowen scolded him with a jab to his vents, "Pluck you can't just demand food of the hostess…"

"You don't need to worry about it," their guide butted in, "uncanna don't usually have money on them, so whatever he eats will be put on a tab for them to pay off later."

"Sounds like a vicious cycle," Lowen deadpanned, "wont their debt just get worse and worse as time goes on? I doubt they can get a paying job from any of the local businesses. Let alone a stable income to get them out of debt in the first place."

Alto-Eris grinned nervously, "It's the current plan as of now… we are well aware of the issues with the system."

While they argued the logistics of debt and fairness, Pluck focused his sights on the steak placed before him. The older mamono gave him a kind smile, before going back to attending to the other patrons. The piece of meat had been cooked earlier but not long ago. Another one of the patrons must have ordered one awhile ago and left before eating it. That was only a guess, but he cared not for an explanation as to why it was so quickly offered to him.

He tore a piece of the steak off with his index claw, the edge of his digit slicing cleanly through it. He eyed the warm meat in curiosity and tossed it into his mouth. He chewed it placidly and swiftly swallowed. Pluck tased nothing, felt no satisfaction, and his hunger was only getting worse. This confused him as the steak was clearly seasoned, and it tasted no different from any raw beef he had torn into. Yet, it was a meal of quality, at least a higher quality to whatever Lowen could cook up on the spit. He folded the meat and opened his mouth wide. The patrons as well as his companions watched in horror as he swallowed it in a gulp.

The fire in his chest burned hotter and the pain subsided, but it was still there and its grip on his body only grew stronger. He was still hungry, and the meal so graciously offered to him was not enough. Licking the blood from his claws he picked up the plate and shoveled the sides into his mouth, the wooden knife and fork falling in the void that was his stomach along with the edibles. Yet he knew no contentment, only the burning hunger.

His hungry glare fell on the now frightened hostess. She, luckily, was not the object of his hunger, but the platter in her claws was of another matter. The young girl before the mamono stared up at him in awe. She had never seen an uncanna as exotic as he, and he had never been so close to a human so small. She pushed her plate into his waiting claws, though surprised by her naivety and lack of survival instincts, he graciously took the meal and dropped its contents into his maw. His senses still dull he swallowed it all whole, the fire in his chest burned from his every pour.

"Give me more."

-0-

Palicos are a hunter's helper. One might even call them the hunter's best friend depending on their point of view. They are small, they are fast, they are loyal, but what they are not, is Ace. For he held a different status, a self-made title of The Ace Palico shaped by his demeanor around hunters and his presence among his peers.

Ace was not just any palico, he was thee Ace Palico, trained in the hunting arts by the retired Guild Knight Reiner, the Ace Lancer. Ace himself is a leader, this is his forte, and his subordinates were whoever was fortunate enough to hunt with him, as he would say. Whether or not Dawn or the other hunters counted as one of these subordinates was another discussion, but all Mia had to do was look at the way he was treated to see that he was cut from a different cloth.

After their checkup with the Royal Scriveners, Ace had taken her on a tour around the city, and by armor alone did the Dundormans recognize him. They would give him queer looks at first, but as soon as he returned their curiosity with his signature snark, did they realize what happened. Familiar grocers smacked him on the back, some even flicked his helm while questioning his sudden change. However, it was the felynes that attracted Mia's attention, they were practically on the ground bowing in hero worship.

'Dawn didn't get any of this?', Mia thought to herself, 'Is this what Ace meant by that they were famous?'

Her attention turned back to the small talking cats, the felynes, and her curiosity turned to confusion. Peering at Ace's features, she could see how they would recognize him. He after all had kept his whiskers, however thin they were, and while he shared her general fur patterns, his anatomy had clear differences. It was like he was made into a taller, more mamono like, felyne rather than a werecat.

They had noted it before, but Ace's legs were that of his fellow palicos', and his claws and digit pads were much thinner, while hers were plush and fluffy. He was not a werecat, not the same kind of werecat as herself anyhow. He was another beast entirely, but it was only a careful eye would one notice the differences.

"Mia," his voice brought her out thought, "how ya likin' Dundorma?"

"Oh it's," she paused, taking in the world around her in greater detail, "incredible! Everything is so big, and all the people have been so nice and…! and…!"

"Okay, okay," he chuckled, "I know it's great, but you don't need to have a panic att… I mean you don't need to blow your top or anything."

Her shoulders fell but her grin stayed, "Yeah, I shouldn't overreact," she kicked her feet, and continued weakly, "I don't want to stress you out any more than I already have."

Ace blanked at her for what felt like forever. Shoulders slumped he waltzed up, gragged her by cheeks, and whisper yelled, "Oh, for love of Gog will you come off it already?!"

Startled Mia could only reply with a stuttered, "Come off wha…?"

Sighing, Ace wrapped an arm around her, before she could even finish her sentence and shuffled her off to a more private place. The streets of Dundorma were well used and more public than Ace would like, this was not a place for interpersonal conversations, and Ace knew from experience alone that Mia didn't care for such concepts. Their first meeting came to mind.

Winding from allay to street, and from garden to district, they eventually found themselves in the secluded outskirts of the massive city walls. Ace released her, but rather than immediately facing her, he began pacing back and forth. His paw under his chin and a screwed expression marking his face, he remained silent as he contemplated his next words. He was frustrated, that was clear to see, but Mia knew she was not the source of his woes. What bothered her was what the source could be.

Taking in her surroundings it looked like any other cavity within the city. A single tree leaned against the great walls of Dundorma, and though the grass was well kept, it was rarely walked upon. People didn't come around this area, and Ace was very much aware of that fact. The bustle of the midafternoon market was but a distant cry here. It was just the two of them, and she didn't know what to make of that.

She stepped forward, "What are we doing here, Ace?"

He was silent at first, eyeing her up with thoughts rampaging, but he said nary a word. He simply went back to pacing, his tail swinging back and forth, back and forth, and back and forth, until it stood on end, and he turned to the direction behind her with violence in his eyes.

"WHO GOES THERE", he roared, "SHOW YOURSELF!"

"It's just me pussy cat," the familiar voice of a hero came from behind, "heard you were kicking up dust around the city."

Mia turned slowly to see the apathetic face of Mersé Dascaros looking down on her. She simply stood there at the corner of the entry to their hiding place. Though the hero of the Order couldn't care less about the werecat. The mere sight of the one-eyed women sent shivers down Mia's spine.

Relaxing his stance, Ace beckoned her forward, and asked, "What do you want?"

"Just realized I can't really get a drink around here without this zenny stuff," she shrugged, "figured you could spot me for a favor or two. Dawny-boy is still upstairs, and I can't just go around nagging guards for drinks like I… like I used to in Lescatie."

"And you figured you could nag me instead?", He deadpanned.

Smirking, the veteran hero waltzed up to him, and passed Mia without a second thought. She struck a pose, her arms beneath her bust and malicious grin on her face, and said, "Well of course I would, you owe me after all… pussy cat."

Though the act was in jest, Ace wasn't having any of it, and so he decided to fire back with his own snark, "I owe mew a weapon from the finest smith I kmew, nothing else. If mew want to take a chunk out of the budget for some cheap booze, fine by me. It's no fur off my back."

The hero's expression fell, but as she was making to leave, Ace moved to stand in front of her. Though he stood a full head and shoulders shorter, he didn't appear any smaller in her eyes. He was a dangerous little cat, and the hero refused to get caught underestimating him of all things, especially after how he handled those Elders in Lescatie. She stood her ground, but she would not push him.

"I have a proposition."

"Name it."

-0-

Meal after meal, he could not be satisfied, for he knew hunger like this never before. Pluck gorged himself to the cries of mamono and man alike, completely oblivious to the shouts to go on, only focused on the ravenous flame burning in his stomach. He would have had his fill hours ago, but whatever that feeling was, the nothingness, it would consume whatever entered his gullet.

Raising the head of a freshly butchered pig to his maw, he tore through it, his teeth sheering through flesh and bone. And with each thunderous crunch the crowd grew more ecstatic. He couldn't even taste it anymore, there was no joy in his consumption, he simply devoured to sate the feeling in his core. Even as he downed the blood hidden pouring out of the snapping bones, he kept going and going until all the inn had left was alcohol to serve. Of course, his feast was on the house, though that was mostly due to the curiosity of the Dragonian's around him. He was content with that he at only had to focus on feeding the fire at the moment.

"Pluck that's enough you need to stop you're going to hurt yourself!", Lowen's voice rang in his ears.

His dilatated eyes moved to her, but he couldn't stop himself from hefting the keg above his open maw, "I can't," he tore a hole through it and began gulping down each and every ounce of Dragon's Lifeblood, a particular wine made from demonic grapes, "I need more!"

His breath flooded with the arousing magic of the wine burned a blaring red, and that only pushed the audience further overboard. The inferno in his chest was quenched, and then he felt his motions slow. Falling onto his behind, he began rubbing the stinging from his eyes as his high came down and his energy was restored. He was wide awake once more, and that was when he fully realized where and what he was doing.

His face, his chest, even his wings were draped in alcohol, scraps of food, blood, and what ever else he managed to tear into since entering this place. His claws were painted red with the amount of meat he had ripped through. Lowen had been by his side the entire time, making sure he didn't overdo whatever he was doing, while Alto-Eris kept the crowd from overwhelming him. It was surreal now that he thought about it, it reminded him of Lescatie, but he couldn't place the reason why.

It was ironic he then thought to himself, that a tonic meant for intoxication and rejuvenation would made him sober and tired. Pluck laid down on the floor with a neutral expression, his haze falling away as he took in the cheers of the Dragonians. He wiped the slop of meat along his mouth in disgust, he never did like getting his scales dirty.

"Pluck what the hell got into you?!", Lowen whisper yelled as she came to lean over him.

Gazing up at her, he began to realize the effects of the wine. He was starting to notice the beauty his friend truly was, but even with his heightened sexual desire he would keep that to himself. It wasn't like he could even blush like she would with all the scales covering his cheeks. Pluck counted himself lucky that the once again he had one over her on this occasion.

"That feeling is gone," he grumbled, "and I don't know what it was…"

Blanking, Lowen peered into his eyes, before moving to pull him up, "You've been going on about this feeling all afternoon. For the love of Lillith what's gotten into you?"

Stumbling to his feet, Pluck began hobbling to the inn's door, the only thing keeping him awake was the sense of disgust that came with the filth. His feet carried him awkwardly, a fact the crowd would take notice of.

"Ol' Argent's already tuckered out!"

"Isn't he a baby or something?!"

"A bit big for a baby!"

"That boy don't like a BABY to ME!"

"Look at 'em go!"

Bristling in annoyance, he shoved the inn's door open. Unfortunately, the door practically fell off its hinges with the force of the shove, but he wasn't concerned about property damage at the moment. And though he preferred not to embarrass himself further, the sudden introduction of dirt to his face didn't make that a possibility.

Lowen was quick to help him up, "Pluck are you okay?!"

"I'm fine," he grumbled, before he began dragging his feet away, "I need to clean… myself."

"There's a stream this way… I'll take you there," the griffon ducked underneath his arm, pulling closer to herself as she did so, "just let me help you. I can't take my eyes off you, stupid dragon."

Resigning himself to being carried, Pluck ducked beneath the inn's sign. He hadn't even noticed the name before, but the etching of 'Bar Moonlight' clued to him that they weren't even at an inn. Grinding his claws into his temple he began to realize just how many places he's been to that night. The sight of his footprints tearing into the cobblestone, moving from building to building made it clear enough that his hunger was driving him for the past hours. Hungover as he was, he supposed he would settle whatever came of it the next morning, if anything did come of it.

"You really tore up the town, Pluck," Lowen's voice brought him back, "let's hope it doesn't come back to bite us."

The Valstrax gave her a quizzical look, and asked, "What do you mean by: us? I'm the one that ate everything… destroyed the road… made a mess of myself…"

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah and?"

"And the, Stupid Dragon," he eyed her questioningly, "is causing more problems. You and Kushala would be better off without me. Can't get anything right, can I?", Although he was looking at her when he asked that, it was clear he was only looking into space as his frustration came to the surface.

Lowen blanked for a moment, unsure of what Pluck was getting at. Sighing, she leaned into him, a hint of guilt in her eyes, "You're not… stupid, Pluck. And YOU are not a burden… never say anything like that again."

"I'm just stating an observation," he grumbled, "you don't even need to be here. You could still be at your mountain, with your horde, with your sky, and your peak. If not for me and Kushala, you would still be there."

Lowen's expression fell, tears welled up in her eyes, but she refused to shed any. Gripping Pluck's over hanging claw she glared back him. Clearly upset she set him next to the riverbed and sat herself next to him. She was angry, that much was clear to Pluck, for what reason he could not tell.

He supposed it was a female thing, something Kushala told him not to worry about. Rinse his claws in the river water, while eyeing his solitary female friend, he could only think of what Kushala was up to at the moment. He hoped it was simpler than whatever was going on around himself.

"…"

"…"

"Stupid dragon…"

"Little griffon…"

Red in the face she slashed his face with a kick at the water. He replied by cupping a pint of water, before dropping it over her head. Soaked, she pushed him into the water, he pulled her in in-turn. Chuckling, Pluck grabbed hold of Lowen before diving into deep water, spiraling through the current, he popped above the surface for her to take a breath before going diving back in.

The feeling was amazing to the young Elder, the waters' soothing touch and chilly night air came together like a rush of stratospheric winds and dark storm clouds. It was something he missed while grounded with the others. It was feeling of freedom that he identified so much with. Lowen, though startled, took in the rush as he did, but in another way she couldn't exactly place.

The moonlight shined on the river, the two of them could see clearly through the cold water, but Lowen was the only one really taking in the beauty of the light. Pluck was very familiar with swimming unlike his companion he had taken in great coral reefs, underwater ravines, and many of the strange and wonderful life that lied beneath the surface. He supposed he try showing Lowen some of these things when he got the chance. For now, he had had his fill, and only after his final spiral, did he take to the skies with Lowen in tow.

Laughing all the way, Pluck released Lowen and cut the power flowing to his wings. Weightless the two of them floated midair in the night sky. He, playful and relaxed, while she, a mix of fright and excitement. For in truth Lowen enjoyed flying with Pluck, it was always something to behold when he took flight, but to be a part of it, to be a part of the Scarlet Comet. It was incredible and she knew for a fact that she wouldn't pass it up for the world. Mountains and hordes be damned, she just wanted to be with him, her stupid dragon.

AN: I like to think that all characters that we write and develop and yata yata comes from ourselves. I find that the main cast (Dawn, Ace, Mia, Shizuka, and Estrid) all share something with me.

Mostly Ace and Dawn of course, but I look back at my writings and I realize that I've been writing from experience when it comes to Shizuka and Estrid, not just Dawn and Ace.

I share Shizuka's shyness and maybe even her desire for closeness with others. And I continue to relate to Estrid's frustrations (the nonsexual kind) and her larger stature causing others to be fearful of my presence. I scared one of female peers while at Uni because of how much larger than her I was.

I just thought it was an interesting thing to pick up on. Either way I only have one review that needs responding too.

Review Responses:

Guest 02:

I don't think Wyverian's lay eggs. Pretty sure that MH Stories eggs are just a convenient way for the game to represent what you're doing. Though as for armor, both male and female hunters often wear very little. For every set of fat boy armor there's a dozen sets of skimpy armor. And lastly for Uncanna, I try to be sparing with them as I have to describe their appearance while also designing them based off their appearances as monsters and as an armor set.

I would like to note that Pluck's appearance is a mix of the Valstrax armor and the monster. Kushala is lucky that his armor is very legionary in appearance, so I could just go with close to human / mamono for him.

Espinas is one of the better Frontier monsters so I'm down for it. It's a shame that so many of them are so ugly, and their fights are so… not monster hunter. Lets hope he keeps his personality while being a good hunt in Sunbreak.