POV
Alex/ human

Alex was lost in their own thoughts as they stored their gear in their pack. Alex didn't really want to admit it, but their interaction with Stiches had left them a slightly rattled last night. They had been much more cautious as they had made their way up to the second campsite. They had kept being startled by the smallest of sounds, senses on trigger alert. Which is probably what Stiches had wanted. They had tried to distract themselves by watching the unloading at the docks with their binoculars again, but everything seemed pretty much the same as last week. Their attention kept going back to Slider. He really is muscular, Alex had thought uneasily. Alex had put the binoculars down, before they could put themselves too much on edge. Come on, Alex; get it together. This isn't the first tight spot you have been in.

Except this time, they couldn't retreat to the safety of their boat. They couldn't just sail away, if the situation became too…unpleasant.

And that's the real problem. Alex's finger had trailed up to the whistle necklace. They had pulled the dog whistle out and looked at it in the fading light. It won't do any good up here. Even if Isabelle and the others did hear, they would have to come all the way up by the trails. Plus, Slider would also hear.

Alex had let the necklace fall back onto their chest and had pulled out the slingshot instead. This is what really saved the day, even if its use was a little…unorthodox. Alex had winced a little. I didn't even bother to get stones or any type of ammunition for it; I was so sure I wouldn't need it. I will have to fix that on the way back down tomorrow.

Well, it was time to head back down now. Alex finished their musing as they swung on the pack. The sooner I start, the sooner I can fix my mistake. Now that it was morning, the forest didn't seem to be quite as full of monsters and bogeymen (in the form of hybrids), but Alex still kept a warry eye.

They made good timing on the way down. They kept to the trail mainly, with only small detours to catch the occasional insect flying by. Their nerves felt much more settled, but they hurried past the fork in the road that led to Stitches' house. When they reached the meadow though, they paused before heading straight to the village.

Actually, the stream is probably the best place to find ammunition, Alex thought as they slowed at the fork. I will want my stones to be as smooth and round as possible, so a river is the best place to find rocks like that. Having made up their mind, they took the fork to fulfil their errand.

Reaching the wide stream, Alex pulled their shoes and socks off, and wadded into it, looking for some stones. Alex didn't have to look long, before finding enough rocks to make them feel like they had a decent stock of ammo now.

Alex wadded back out, and leaned back on the rocks as they waited for the sun to dry their legs and feet. Alex had no desire to finish their hike in damp socks. Absently turning one of the stones around in their hand, they watched the stream go on by. The last time I was here, was with Tommy. Alex's eyes darted over in the direction to the twins' hideout. I haven't been back over here to really practice with my pole-vaulting skills that much either. Alex's hand idly trailed to the vaulting pole hooked onto their belt. One thing at a time though. The slingshot is more important right now, Alex grudgingly admitted to themselves.

Once they felt dry enough, they finished their trek. Alex was surprised to feel a quick sense of relief at being back in the village. Alex returned from the forest to see that Zucker was waiting in the same spot as last week, head on his hands again. He sat up when he saw Alex.

"Hey, Zucker!" Alex called as they trotted over. "How was the weekend?"

"Busy. The boats came with the supplies while you were away."

"Yup, that was the reason I left," Alex reminded gently. "But everything went okay?"

"Yes," Zucker nodded. "Nothing happened. Actually, it was pretty boring. So," he clapped his hands together, as he scrambled to his feet. "What are we going to do now?"

"Well, I have to swing by Nook's Cranny," Alex mused. "I have some stuff to sell. Plus, they most likely have something I could use as target practice," Alex said more to themselves then to Zucker.

Zucker tilted his head. "What?"

Alex just laughed. "You'll see. Come on."

The bells over Nook's Cranny gave a merry chime as Alex entered. "Morning!" Alex called to the two boys.

"Morning, Alex!" Timmy and Tommy both scampered over. "Welcome back! How was your trip?"

"It went fine," Alex said simply, not really wanting to get into the details. They hurriedly changed the topic. "I have some stuff to sell to you."

"Great, just so you know, we don't buy turnips on Sundays."

Alex paused in the act of pulling out the bugs that they wanted to sell. "Did you say turnips? And why don't you buy them on Sunday?"

"Because that's when—oh, wait, you just got back, didn't you? Never mind. Let's see what you got."

Once they had exchanged insects and bells, Timmy looked back up at Alex expectantly. "Is there anything else I can do for you today?"

"Actually, do you two have a dartboard or bullseye; you know, something I could use as target practice." Alex pulled out their slingshot to show them.

"I recognize that; it's one of our models. Hmm," Timmy pursed his lips together as he thought. "Anything could probably be used as a target..."

"Well, ya, but I don't want to damage anything."

"Hm, well, I'm not sure…what?" He looked over at his twin when Tommy made a faint growl sound. Putting a finger in his mouth, Tommy flicked it out with a loud "pop" sound. A smile grew on Timmy's face to match his twin. "You're right, that would work. I wonder if we still have some left over."

"Have some what?" Alex called as Timmy ducked back in to the back storage area.

"You'll see!" was the only answer they got.

Alex felt their lips twitch into a smile, before turning back to Tommy. "Sounds like you had a good idea."

Tommy gave a shy smile, before a serious expression crossed his face. He reached out and touched the slingshot. "Ammmmmo?" The single word was drawn out into a question.

"Yup, got some right here." Alex pulled out one of the stones to show him. "Unless you got something better."

Tommy took the smooth stone from Alex, a judging look in his eyes and he ran his clawed fingers over it. He lightly bounced it in his palm; Alex could tell that he was judging the weight of it. If it was too light after all, it wouldn't be any good as a projectile. He appeared satisfied with it though, before handing it back to Alex.

Timmy reappeared just then. "You are in luck!" he cried happily. He came back up with a small canister and a bag. "This is left over from our last celebration. It's a pack of balloons and a canister of helium. These should work nicely for what you want."

A delighted smile lit up Alex's features. "Ya, I think that it will. What do I owe you?"

"That depends on how many you want. I'll sell them for 600 bells each."

"I think I'll go with five right now then."

"Great! We will go ahead and get them blown up for you."

"Okay, I'll head out to pick out a good spot to practice."

Alex led the way outside, with Zucker still following behind. Alex looked around outside of the shop. It would probably be best to face away from all the buildings; no point in risking broken windows. So facing the forest was probably best…

Alex was interrupted by the sound of running hooves. Alex turned sharply to see that it was Fauna. "Alex!" Fauna said in a hurried rush. "Thank goodness you're back. Come on!" She grabbed their hand and pulled them after her.

"Fauna, what's wrong?" Alex raced after her, surprised and mildly alarmed at the actions of the normally shy girl.

"Come on, you have to see this." She was fast on those deer legs though; Alex hadn't realized that before. She was literally pulling them along. She led them to the pond, where Lucky, Ankha, Reneigh, and Raymond all were sitting. "Look!"

Alex gasped, hands on knees as they tried to catch their breath. "What? What is it?" They struggled to ask. Alex glanced around the others' faces, but no one else seemed as excited as Fauna.

Fauna point to the roses growing. "Look. Right there." There was a touch of pride in her voice. Alex carefully pushed some of the branches out of the way, to see a single rose bud. A rosebud that was a lovely shade of pink.

"Oh, awesome!" Alex smiled at the little bud. "We did it!"

"She was very excited, when she found it," Lucky piped up. "She wanted to show you right away."

"I'm glad she did," Alex half-turned to her. "Thanks. Hopefully, we will get some more soon. Hmmmm, seemed like cross pollination worked. Maybe we should move some more roses over here. Try to see if we can increase our blooms."

"That would be nice," she said thoughtfully. "But should we place them so close together? We don't want to overcrowd them. We need to leave room for them to grow. They all need adequate sunlight and water."

"That's true," Alex agreed. "Still, if we bring over some more red and white, we are bound to increase our chances of getting a pink hybrid cross."

"And, that's the goal, isn't it," Raymond's tone was filled with disgust, "to get a desirable hybrid cross of traits you want."

"Oh, give it a rest, Raymond," Reneigh said tiredly, "You know that they didn't mean it like that."

Tommy came over then, before the mood could become too tense. "Hey, Alex, the balloons are ready now."

"Balloons? For what?" Ankha asked. "Are we having a celebration of some kind?"

Alex pulled out their slingshot. "No, sorry, it's just for this. Mr. Nook gave it to me. I have never used one seriously though, so I need to practice with it."

A skeptical eyebrow appeared over Raymond's glasses. "He gave it to you? As in free of charge?"

"Don't be snarky, Ray," Lucky piped up. "You know why he would give it to them." Raymond just huffed in response.

"Actually, I would like to come watch, if that's okay?" Reneigh asked.

"Sure, I don't mind," Alex shrugged.

"We'll come too." Lucky said, to which Ankha handed him his crutches. "It's something else to do at least."

"Looks like it's going to be a party, after all," Raymond said, as he stood up on his long legs.

"Well, no promises on how good I'll be," Alex said, suddenly feeling nervous that everyone wanted to go now. I didn't know I would have an audience.

"You never know," Fauna said, "You might have a knack for it. Particularly if we are there to encourage and support you."

Alex looked at her in surprise as the others nodded or voiced their agreement with the sentiment (with one noticeable exception). Alex was once again struck at how hard everyone was trying to help them adjust to being here. They really mean it. They really are trying to make me feel welcome here.

Alex was surprised again at the wave of emotion that rose up in them. They had drifted from place to place, going (literally) wherever the wind took them, that they hadn't had a sense of community for a while now. They were surprised at how…good…it felt. Normally, they didn't like the thought of being anchored or tied down, as it felt constricting. But here, in this place, where they were actually stuck, it felt strangely…liberating.

Alex smiled; yes, they might be trapped here, but the others were trying to make them feel part of the whole. And surely if they all worked together they could achieve anything.

Maybe even an escape from this place…

But the first step to that end was to make sure that they survived in the meantime. And to do that, even though it annoyed Alex to admit it, they would have to learn better self-defense.

"Ya, you might be right," Alex beamed at them all. "Thanks everyone. And I bet that you are right; with all of your encouragement, I'm sure that I can do it!"

Except it turned out that Alex was as good at hitting targets as they were at DIY Projects.

Alex gritted their teeth as the rock once again flew past the red balloon, which seemed to bob slightly in the wind as if to taunt them. Most of the others had gradually drifted away by this point, partly from lack of progress and partly to give them time to just practice without being watched.

"Just keep at it," Reneigh had said was an encouraging smile. "You'll get it."

How come, Alex thought as they pulled the elastic back—again—that I keep being bad at everything? Which wasn't really a fair thought. It was just that all the skills that Alex had acquired from living on their sailboat didn't seem to be as important right now.

"You know," Raymond piped up from where he was lying on his back, "statistically speaking, you should have hit it by now. Pure probability demands it. I might could even make a scatter chart for this…"

Alex resisted the urge to give a smart comeback. "Don't you have somewhere else to be?"

Raymond raised himself up on his elbows, to give Alex a smirk. "Nope."

Alex rolled their eyes at him, before turning back to the target.

"Don't worry, Alex, you can do it." Alex knew that they could count on their own personal cheerleader. Zucker seemed to take it as a personal challenge to match Raymond's scorn with the opposite energy. Zucker's faith in them didn't seem to waver. "You will the hang of it!"

Raymond gave a snort of disbelieve. "Hardly. Even if Alex does manage to hit the balloon, it is just the beginning. If they are in real danger, an attacking hybrid won't stand there and wait around for Alex to peg them."

"I know that, Raymond." Alex said through gritted teeth. "I'm working on it."

"Maybe…some kind of positive reinforcement would help…" Zucker said slowly. "What if we took balloons…and attached some kind of…small box with a treat or something inside. It could be like a prize or present for popping it—what?" he asked in response to Raymond's really skeptical look.

"What nonsense are you going on about?" Raymond practically sneered. "This isn't some game to them. Alex is trying to learn so that they don't get ripped to shreds."

"Hey, now, let's tone it down a notch," Alex continued to try to line up their sights on the balloon. They didn't like the reminder of what had almost happened at Stiches'. "It's starting to get a little graphic. Besides, I'm not opposed to getting something as a bonus to me—hey!" Alex's dropped their current train of thought as one of the stones finally hit the balloon "pop" sound. "Alright! About time!"

"Hurray!" Zucker cried enthusiastically, while giving hearty applause. "You did it. I knew you could!"

"Oh, for goodness sack," Raymond said disgruntled. "They just popped a balloon; it's not that spectacular."

"Well, getting one is better than getting none," Alex quipped lightly. "That's one success at least." Alex walked over to the pile of merrily bouncing balloons. "Which color should I do next, Zucker?"

"Oh, um…blue?"

Alex just laughed. "There is no wrong answer, Zucker. Blue is fine." They detangled the blue one and pulled it over to where the red one had been. "Alright, let's go two for two."

Alex did get two for two, but they were discouraged in how long it took them. "Okay, I think I'm done for today at least. Want to come with me to store them in my house?"

"Ya, sure." Alex went to go hand him the remaining balloons but then thought better of it.

"Hold out your wrist, and I'll tie them on." Zucker happily complied. "See you later, Raymond." Alex called to the sullen cat hybrid. They only got a wave in response, which Alex figured was as good as they were going to get. Alex led the way to their house, with Zucker contently following.

Alex unlocked the door and went in. "Oh. Someone cleaned up while I was gone. Smells really clean in here." Must have been Isabelle. She is thoughtful like that. Alex gave the newly renovated space a critical look. "Hmm, why don't you put them over there in the corner." Alex pointed to the corner in question, before they turned slowly, mentally measuring out their new space. Um, I could move my dresser over there. That would leave me space to have a kitchen and dining area at least. I could use a table or couch as a divider. I could store my resources in the back section over there.

Zucker came up and stood next to them. "Okay, now what?"

"Gotta talk to Reneigh about a kitchen soon. But," they glanced at the fading light in the window, "it's too late today. That will be tomorrow's project." They turned back to their constant companion. "What about you, what do you want to do?"

"Me?" Zucker looked surprised.

"Well, ya." Alex smiled. "You are always helping me out. You need anything?" Community; try to be part of a whole.

"Oh, no. I don't want to be a bother."

"You're not." Alex assured him. "So what do you want to do then?"

"Um, well," Zucker shuffled slightly. "Um, we could go fishing…?" His tone made it sound like a question, like he was worried that his suggestion was a bad one,

Alex nodded. "Sounds like a good idea to me. I got my pole already. Let's go."

Alex let Zucker lead the way to the docks. Zucker kept up a steady stream of conversation as they walked. From how Zucker acted, Alex had decided most people didn't tolerate the scatterbrain klutz. Not Alex though, they found him almost a relief, the way that he was content to carry the conversation in an endless chatter, if Alex let him. It was a friendly white noise to the stress of trying to adjust to their new life on the island.

Once they reached the docks, Zucker excitedly checked his lines for the day. Alex belatedly remembered that Zucker had been helping them so much lately, that he probably hadn't had as much time to do his own thing as much. He proudly showed Alex his catches for the day, to which Alex praised him for.

Zucker stuttered and stammered at the praise, clearly not familiar with it. To which Alex made a mental note to do more of in the future. For someone who is so optimistic of my abilities, he really doesn't view himself in the same positive light.

They sat together on the docks in the fading light, fishing lines in the water. Zucker seemed to have run out of things to say at the moment, so they sat in companionable silence. Alex pushed back their hood, enjoying the last of the sun's rays. Alex admired the sunset as the sun dipped towards the water. Living here isn't so bad, if I ignore the fact that I can't leave, Alex mused. If I had chosen to be here, it could be a type of paradise, but I guess that's true for everyone here. No one chose to be here, actually. We—

"Hey, Alex, did you fall into a tree or something?" Zucker's question caught them completely off guard.

"No, why?"

"Oh, ah, never mind." The octopus hybrid busied himself with his line, clearly embarrassed.

With a slight smile, Alex turned back to their own line. We have that in common at least. We are all trying to make the best of a bad situation. In that regard, we do need each other.

POV
Zucker/ octopus
Morning of the same day

Zucker sat at the edge of the trees waiting. Again. Alex had gone and left again and hadn't even waited to say goodbye. Again.

He puffed his cheeks out in a huffy sigh. Alex was so fast and smart and clever, that it made sense that they would just go and do things. And of course, Alex had to leave, and the sooner the better. But still…it would be nice if they would at least wait to say goodbye. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that a pattern was developing. Like he was constantly chasing after Alex, just to keep up.

After all, it wasn't like they actually needed him or anything.

Zucker was so lost in thought, that he didn't notice someone else walk up. A voice cleared her throat, startling him. "G'morning! You here to start your Sunday off with some fresh turnips?" Her voice was peppy, if slightly nasally.

Zucker turned to look at the young lady. "Oh. Hi, Daisy Mae." The young boar hybrid stood there, dressed in the same blue komodo that she wore every Sunday, ready to sell her turnips.

"Sheesh, don't sound so excited," she sniffed, and reaching up, wiped her nose on the back of her hand. "What's got you so glum?"

"Oh, nothing. Just thinking…"

She tilted her head slightly, being careful to not dump the turnips off her head. How does she manage to balance all those turnips anyway? "What about?"

"Oh…well…" Zucker picked at grass as he thought. "A…friend…had to go away for a bit. And I miss them." It was alright to call Alex a friend, right? And Alex was his friend, weren't they…?

"Well, they will come back, right?"

"Yes."

"Well, then, there you go." She gave him a smile. "You know what might make you feel better? Some fresh turnips. I've got turnips a-plenty, fresh from Sow Joan's Stalk Market. Wanna buy 'em for 90 Bells each?"

Zucker sighed. "Not today, Daisy." Zucker had been a sucker (no pun intended) one too many times and had ended up with rotten turnips one too many weeks, to have learned by this point that he should just not buy anything from the girl.

"Okeydoke! Maybe next time." She begin to walk away, but then stopped. "Hey, Zucker, your missing friend. What's their name?"

"Alex," Zucker said, not thinking. Wait, is that a bad idea. Is it okay to say their name? He frantically tried to correct his mistake. "But it's just Alex. Not Alex-the-anything special." He gave a forced laugh. "But I'm not sure if Alex is their real name. Could be short for Alexandre, though." Daisy had a look that was more confused than convinced, so Zucker rattled on. "But lots of people have Alex as a name! It's a very common human name—but having the name 'Alex' doesn't mean that they are human! Alex just happens to be a common name for people who happen to be human as well. Any number of people could be named Alex. I bet you could go almost anywhere, and go up to someone and ask 'hey, what's your name,' and someone is bound to say 'Hey, it's Alex,' and you would be like 'no way, really? Fancy that!' and then you could have a nice chat about the weather and how bad your favorite sports team is doing and what is on the news and then go get some coffee or tea or, or, a cookie or something…" he stopped his monologue partly because he was running out of things to say in addition to running out of air. "So, um…where was I going with this?"

"Not sure, actually." Daisy gave a small smile. "I think you lost it somewhere in there." She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "But, actually, I do need to go."

Oh, right. It's almost noon. "Okay. Bye, Daisy Mae." He gave a short wave. "Tell your grandmother 'hello' for me."

A sad smile touched her lips. "I will. Take care, Zucker."

Zucker turned hesitantly to the forest he was watching. Ya. I think I covered it. Nothing odd about that. Daisy Mae is nice…as far as Visitors go…but she is still one of Them. Zucker shuddered. Couldn't let Them know about Alex.

Alex came not too long after, to which Zucker was delighted. They went over to the boys'—the young Nooklings'—shop. Zucker tried to keep out of the way while Alex was districted, talking business with Timmy. Zucker tried to be causal about checking out what on the display, but he could see Tommy keeping a wary eye on him. Alex wrapped up their transaction though, before Zucker could manage to cause some sort of mishap.

But now that Alex was done with their sales, then that means that Alex and he could hang out and do something—

Except Fauna came then and dragged them away. Zucker raced after them, trying to keep up, alarmed that someone else was suddenly wanting Alex's attention. She pulled them over to see the roses. The roses I and Alex had planted, he noted with a touch of pride. Well, Alex had planted. But I was there.

Instead of being cheered by the success of the roses though, he was becoming more and worried as the two of them discussed the roses. He didn't know the first thing about flowers. They just grew and…and…well, did stuff. He wasn't sure how you helped flowers do what they did; they just did it.

But Alex and Fauna were going on and on about it, and the more they talked, the more nervous he got. It felt like the roses was becoming more of a them thing and less of an us thing. He was relieved when Tommy came over to get Alex to practice.

Except the others wanted to come too! Zucker anxiously followed the group after Alex. It wasn't that he didn't want the others to not like Alex exactly. Alex was so nice and smart and interesting and human, that it seemed only natural that everyone else would come around. Alex was sure to make friends with them eventually. Zucker just couldn't shake the feeling unease that was there in the pit of his stomach. Alex is my friend. At least, I think so. Alex has never said so outright, but I think so. He feverously clung to that chain of thought, trying to see what was making him feel so uneasy. But…if Alex made other friends…better, more capable friends…then they might not want to be friends…with me.

Now, that concluding thought left him feeling sick and horrified. He was so consumed with his fear and anxiety that he couldn't really focus on Alex beginning to practice—besides the fact that they couldn't hit the balloon, which was shocking, in and of itself.

His fear only begin to subside as the others drifted away. Their interest wavered, and one by one, they left. He wouldn't leave; he would certainly never abandon Alex. At the very least, even if he couldn't do anything else, he could be here for them.

Raymond stayed too, but he didn't even like Alex, so Zucker didn't have to worry about him. But he was heckling Alex, and that bothered Zucker. He tried to make up for it by being as encouraging as possible. He knew how hard it could be to get something right. Of course, Alex would be sure to hit it. It seemed like Alex could do anything.

They did hit the balloons eventually (Zucker had never doubted them), and Alex was ready to stop for the evening. Zucker didn't mind, but continued to trail after them to bring the balloons to Alex's house, just happy to be included. Once they were back at Alex's house, Zucker untied Alex's balloons from his wrist—Alex seemed preoccupied about something, so they thankfully didn't notice how he struggled a little with the knot—before going back to stand by them. "Okay, now what?"

"Gotta talk to Reneigh about a kitchen soon," Zucker felt an uncomfortable flip in his stomach, at the reminder of yet something else that he wasn't really included in. "But it's too late today. That will be tomorrow's project." Those clever eyes suddenly turned to look at him. "What about you, what do you want to do?"

"Me?" Zucker met those eyes uncertainly.

The eyes sparked, as Alex smiled. "Well, ya. You are always helping me out. You need anything?"

"Oh, no. I don't want to be a bother." If I bother or annoy them, they won't want me around.

"You're not." Alex assured him. "So what do you want to do then?"

"Um, well," Zucker shuffled slightly, as he frantically thought. Alex was asking him what they should do. This was his chance, to show them that he wasn't just a useless klutz—an uncoordinated failure. I'm good at fishing if not much else. "Um, we could go fishing…?" Was that a good idea? Alex had gone fishing with him before, but that didn't mean that they liked doing it.

But Alex was already nodding, allowing Zucker to relax. "Sounds like a good idea to me. I got my pole already. Let's go."

Zucker could feel his nerves begin to calm down, as he fell into a more familiar pattern. He kept chatting to Alex, who didn't seem to be bothered by it at all. Zucker was delighted to see that his lines were successful as well. He proudly showed his catches to Alex. Alex even praised him for it, (which was a delightful, if extremely unfamiliar, occurrence).

They sat together on the docks in the fading light, fishing lines in the water. Zucker sat next to Alex in companionable silence, just enjoying being with them. This is nice, Zucker thought as the line dipped in the water. I could get used to this. Just the two of them, just sitting together, fishing. It felt like something friends would do…

Zucker bit his lip as the earlier thoughts returned to him. Surly, Alex and I are friends…But Zucker didn't know that…not for sure. He stole a few quick glances at them; they had their hood pushed back to better enjoy the remaining sunlight. It was on the tip of his tongue to ask, when something else caught his attention.

"Hey, Alex, did you fall into a tree or something?"

"No, why?" Alex turned to him with a quizzical look.

"Oh, ah, never mind." Zucker fussed with the line, embarrassed and know kicking himself for wasting his chance with such a stupid question. Can't ask them now; not after looking like an idiot. Besides, those marks on Alex's neck must not be bruises after all.

POV
Slider/ dog
Evening of the same day

Slider was waiting when Daisy Mae finally returned. "Well, how did it go?"

She sighed. "Gram-Gram still isn't doing too well. The doctors say that she might—"

"Not about your grandmother," Slider growled. "The Island, did you find out anything?"

She winced at his tone as she took her hat-thing off. "No…not really. I didn't see Alex, if that's what you are asking about. They weren't in the village." She removed the headscarf as well, and ran her fingers through her now-free hair; most of her hair hung straight, with the odd wispy curl framing her face. Her short bangs came just to her eyes, with a choppy pixie cut in the back.

"Did you look around?" he continued.

"Yes," she replied. "I'm trying, Slider." The young stalk—stock, he mentally corrected—broker spent half her days off on the Island trying to sell her turnips, and the other half at the Lab. She spent her Sunday afternoon visiting the Hospital section to see her invalid Grandmother. As far as Slider could tell, the old girl was hanging on by grit and might of modern medicine. From what Labelle said when he had asked her about it, old Joan was basically in a medically-induced coma while she was on life support. The doctors weren't sure if she could even wake up at this point.

"Don't forget," Slider narrowed his eyes at her, "your grandmother's care is directly proportional to how useful you are to Redd co."

Her eyes widened. "I know! And I'm trying—Slider, I am," she insisted, before she gave a thick sniff. That was something else he had asked Labelle about; how the constant allergies were an unfortunate response to her hybridization. She wasn't ugly exactly, the boar ears and tail were small, but her upturned nose could truly be considered a 'pig' nose now. Which the chronic sniffles and nasal drainage did not flatter at all. "It's not just me—no one else has found 'em either."

"I know," Slider reluctantly agreed. "Just be sure you got your priorities in order, Daisy Mae." That girl seems to only think about her decrepit grandmother and her stupid turnips. That must be why Leif seems to tolerate her. She is the only one he is willing shares "his" greenhouse with.

The young boar hybrid nodded before hurrying past him. The lot of them don't seem to want to get his done, he quietly seethed. I need better help.

Slider paused for a moment before he went into go find Celeste; she might not be his first choice, but at least she was predictable and reliable.

He knocked on her bedroom door. "Busy," came the response, without the door even opening.

"Celeste, it's me," he called.

There was a moment of pause. "Is it important, Slider?"

"Do you think I would be here if it wasn't?" he growled. "Open up, Celeste."

He could hear the aggravated sigh even through the door. "Give me a sec."

He leaned against the wall, waiting. After a few seconds, the door unlocked and opened to reveal Celeste, wrapped up in a robe and hair up in a towel. Her face had the worst smelling clay-mask-goo—whatever it was called— on her face, but it was not quite strong enough to overpower the scent of fresh nail polish. "You are interrupting my routine, so this better be good. Hurry up and get in here, before one of the others see me like this."

Slider stepped past her, as he shut the door and locked it behind him. It was just a habit. All the Redd co. employees knew the importance of locked doors. "It's about the Human."

"Oh, yes, the human you are supposed to find. How's that going?" He could hear the enjoyment in her voice.

"The human we are supposed to find," he corrected. "Don't forget, he charged us with finding them. And it's not going well. The villagers are hiding them."

Celeste paused in the act of painting her toenails a vibrant shade of red. "That makes no sense. Why would they want a human there?"

"Who knows why. But the human is there during the week, but gone when I come over the weekend. They are dodging us on purpose, so we need to break the pattern. Can you go tomorrow?"

"I don't know…" she paused. "What if Mr. Redd needs me?"

"He won't," Slider shook his head. "Not while he is obsessed with him newest creation." Celeste's eyes narrowed at the remainder, and her thick lips pushed together in a pout. Slider pressed on, not giving her a chance to respond. "Of course, this might help get his attention back, if you were to find this human for him."

"Oh, alright, Slider, you don't have to lead me on; I got it." she huffed in irritation. "I'll help you find this human."

"Thanks, Celeste, you're a doll." A brief smile touched his lips. He turned to let himself out, but her voice stopped him.

"How much longer, Slider?" Her downcast voice was soft and low. "It's been over two weeks already. Now much longer do you think Mr. Redd will prefer that little…mistake over me?"

Slider tuned back to her, to see the normally pretty pleasant-tempered girl looking very depressed. He might not understand her infatuation, but he understood her passion to be seen as the best. "He is just a craze, a fad. You know Mr. Redd is always like this when he gets a new pet. The novelty will wear off soon enough, and he will get bored and go back to you. You don't have anything to worry about. You are the best and most successful hybrid of us all, Celeste."

"Of course, I am," she snapped lightly. "No one comes close to me. Except for Raymond, but he is a troublesome, so Mr. Redd will never like him more." She gave a deep sigh. "I just want this phase to hurry up and be over. I'm tired of being second fiddle."

"You won't be long," Slider agreed. "Just remember that, on your way to the Island tomorrow. The clock is ticking against him; he won't be the favorite forever."

Her expression darkened, turning downright murderous. "Oh, I can't wait for that day. Precious little Marshal," the name was hideously distorted by her distaste, "will finally get what's coming to him."

POV
Marshal/ squirrel
Little under a year and a half ago

Marshal let out a sigh as the morning rush was beginning to wane. It had been a hectic morning. Although the seasons typically didn't affect the amount of sales—coffee was coffee, whether it was a burning summer or freezing winter—but more people wanted something hot during the winter months. And a heck of a lot of people had decided that the perfect drink on this nippy morning was a steamy cup of reviving joe.

"Glad that's over," Bonnie grumbled, "I could use a break."

Marshal glanced at the clock. "You could probably go ahead and take yours actually, if you want. But it would be a great help if you could gather up all the dishes from the tables that need to be washed though."

"On it, Boss," Bonnie teased, picking up a tray. "Besides, if I get all the dishes, that means I can take my break while you get to wash them all." Bonnie just laughed as Marshal tossed a dirty washcloth at him from behind the counter.

Marshal begin to tidy up the area behind the counter as well, when Sally's aggravated sigh caught his attention. He glanced over at her as she aggressively packed the coffee grinds into the portafiller and clicked it into the expresso machine. "Everything okay?"

"Ya, just this old machine is just being temperamental again," she grumbled.

"It needs a light touch," Marshal soothed. "The old girl is finicky."

Just then, the door swung open, allowing in a rush of cold air. "Speaking of finicky," Sally mumbled. Marshal didn't bother to look.

"Morning, Sir!" Marshal called over his shoulder. He left the machine for Sally to fiddle with, while he went over to tend to his guest. Mr. Redd had become more moody in more recent weeks, and Marshal seemed to be the only one immune to his moods. The others had all given up, and had opted to just give Marshal the right of way as far as Mr. Redd was concerned.

"Doing well enough," Mr. Redd answered as he pulled off his gloves. Marshal smiled as he judged that Mr. Redd was in a good mood today at least.

"I'm glad to see you today," Marshal gave a winning smile at him.

"Aren't you always, every day?" Mr. Redd eyed him.

"Wellll, I have a little favor to ask." Marshal hedged. "You see, I have to write a research essay for a class, and do you mind if I ask you a few questions?"

"Will you cite me?" Mr. Redd said with a smirk.

"Absolutely, Sir. Your word will make my essay more credible." Marshal had long ago discovered that his client had a slight weakness for flattery. "My professor might even give me extra credit for being able to ask you directly, because of your knowledge and experience."

Today, it worked like a charm. There wasn't a lot of outward tells, but Marshal could see that Mr. Redd was pleased. "Alright, Marshal, but just because you are my favorite. Fire away."

"Cool." Marshal pulled out a pen and notebook paper. He begin to read through the questions that he had written down. "So…what was it like working with Tom Nook, Founder of Nook Incorporated?"

Marshal was looking at his notes, and didn't see how the smile froze on Mr. Redd's face. "What?" he ground out.

"Mr. Nook. I know he hasn't been around for a while, but we still talk about him in class. So what was it like, working with the great 'Wonder on Wall Street'?"

"Marshal, I'm shocked. That is a very inappropriate question." Marshal blinked, taken back. He looked up to see the dark expression on Mr. Redd's face. Oops.

"But I traced your company's history. It was originally Nook Incorporated—"

"First of all, it was 'Nook's Cranny,' if you must know." Mr. Redd seethed. "And second, I don't like to talk of the past. I like to just focus on present and, more importantly, the future."

"Oh, so it is true, then?" Marshal couldn't resist asking. "The rumors? A lot of people speculate that he ran off, because the stress of the job was too much—"

"You just don't know when to shut up, do you?" Marshal winced at Mr. Redd's tone. "I want my coffee to go. Now."

Hurriedly grabbing a to-go cup, Marshal spun around to the expresso machine, Sally silently moving out of his way. Mr. Redd waited at the end of the counter, looking like festering thunderstorm, fingers drumming an irritated rhythm on the counter. Sally and Bonnie both found quiet odd jobs to do, while Marshal whipped up the latte in record time.

"My apologies, Sir, if—" Marshal winced as Mr. Redd slammed the money due on the counter, before snatching the coffee.

"Keep. The. Change." was all he said, before he stormed out. The wind that blew in when he left was nothing compared to his coldness.

"Well, well," Bonnie said, leaning back, with a slight smirk. "Look how the tables have turned. I guess even 'the favorite' isn't perfect, after all."

"Ah, well." Marshal shrugged. "Guess it was time for that phase to wear out anyway. If I lost him, I lost him."

But it turned out that Mr. Redd couldn't stay mad forever. Marshal would always be bright eyes and smiles whenever Mr. Redd showed up, but Marshal could see that he was tarnished in Mr. Redd's eyes. It didn't help that Mr. Redd was used to getting his way, and Marshal could now see that he had inadvertently encouraged it.

Now that Marshal was trying to backtrack and set up boundaries, there were clashes between them. Mr. Redd seemed to be under the impression that because Marshal was his favorite barista that he was his barista.

It led to several tense conversations in the café, to which most of the other coworkers and customers kept out of as much as possible. Marshal half wished that Mr. Redd would move on, and find a new favorite, but it seemed that Mr. Redd really was convinced that Marshal was the best.

And apparently, Mr. Redd deserved the best.

Eventually, this clash came to a head.

Marshal was in the middle of making the cinnamon coffee cake, when Sally stuck her head through the back door. "Hey, Marshal, you got a minute?"

"Not really," Marshal grunted as he mixed the different ingredients to make the topping for the cake. "I'm a little busy. Why?"

"It's him again." Marshal's eyes narrowed. She has got to mean Mr. Redd. "He swears that his latte isn't right. He says that only you can make it the 'right' way."

"You can make it." Marshal said, as he mixed the ingredients a little more aggressively now. "I showed you how. Tell him that; that I taught you. You can do it."

"I know, but he swears you make it different. He says that he can taste the difference." She fiddled with her hair under her visor. "Marshal, please, he won't leave and I have tried three different times…" her voice trailed off. Marshal looked over at her to see that she was blinking back tears.

This is ridiculous. He flipped the sink on and washed up his hands. He is ridiculous. He stomped up to the front room and, after a moment of hesitation, took one of the to-go cups instead of the mugs. He angrily filled a portafilter before inserting it into the espresso machine. He snagged the milk as well and begin to heat it up. He glanced at the espresso dripping down into the cup as he whipped the milk into a light foam. "Do you think he would 'taste it' if I spit in it?" He asked as he begin to add the other ingredients to the latte.

"Marshal, don't!" Sally said horrified, but she was weakly smiling now.

Marshal tipped the steamed milk to the disposable cup. He popped the lid on, before marching on through the door into the main area of the café.

Mr. Redd was sitting at his—emphasis on his—normal table, having the nerve to look annoyed, but his face brightened when he looked up and saw Marshal. "Oh, finally, I —"

"Take the coffee and go." Marshal cut in curtly, holding it out to him.

Mr. Redd frowned at him, as he took it. "Marshal, that is no way to speak to a customer."

Marshal crossed his arms over his chest. "You come in here being a pain to deal with, hold up the line at the busiest time of the morning, make my coworker cry, and demand that I stop what I am doing to serve you." Marshal raised an eyebrow. "There are a dozen coffee shops in the area. Go harass one of them."

Mr. Redd was glaring at him now, "Watch your tone with me, Marshal, or you won't like the consequences," he threatened.

"You'll do, what? Fire me? You might have forgotten it, Sir," the respectful title was said in a tone that conveyed the opposite meaning, "but I don't actually work for you." Marshal spun around at that remark, letting himself have the final word. He ignored Mr. Redd's sputtered protest as he stomped back to the counter area, and continued on to hide out of sight in the back. He returned beating out his frustration in the dough. Stupid, entitled, self-absorbed…A noise interrupted his thoughts to see Sally staring at him. "What, is he still here? If he doesn't leave, tell him you are gonna call the cops."

"No, he's gone," she breathed. She looked like she couldn't decide if she should be delighted or horrified by what he had just done. "Marshal..." she began.

Marshal just shrugged. "What's he gonna do? Write petty reviews? Call and complain." Marshal gave a snort. "If he does, I'll explain it to Brewster. He'll understand." Brewster had been more absent at the café in recent months, so Marshal hadn't really bothered him with his annoying patron. After all, Brewster wasn't getting any younger.

"It will be so much more peaceful, without him now." Sally said. "I know you liked him, Marshal, but he really was so hard to work with."

"I didn't really like him," Marshal said slowly. "It's just that, if I am going to start my own coffee shop, I would need a lot of help to get it off the ground. You know, capital and investors and all that jazz."

"That would be nice, but count your blessings. Could you imagine working with him all the time?" Sally shuddered. "It would be horrible."

Authors Note!

I know, I'm posting this later than normal. End of the school year, being sick, and family vacation kept me super busy. Now that it is summer, I think I can get back on track though.

Response to Reviewers!

Thanks GhostTurtle for your review(s)! It means a lot that you are taking the time to write them, and I really appreciate it. I love to hear your thoughts. :) Glad you are enjoying how I am sneaking in more and more lore about the characters. As you can tell, I very rarely just come out and give explanations about things in my writings; I enjoy leaving clues and hints, to have the reader figure it out on their own. Thank goodness Alex has such a curious nature, and asks questions, otherwise nothing might ever get explained ;)

Glad you felt that Alex was an idiot for their actions in the last chapter. I personally feel that that is the correct response; but Alex is so used to being on their own, that the overprotectiveness of the others is rubbing them the wrong way. And sometimes (particularly when we are annoyed or angry) people say and do some really, really stupid things. Hopefully, this chapter helped to explain more of Alex's personality and why they do the things that they do.

And finally, yes, poor Lucky didn't deserve that. Lucky didn't deserve any of this actually. He truly got the short end of the stick.

Thank you everyone for reading this! I appreciate any Favorites, Follows, or Reviews. As you can tell, the next chapter will focus on Celeste and how people interact with her, so I would love to know how you think that will go down, hehe. Till next time!