High up from the commonly explored base of the Valley Rose Foothills, the Redwood Harefolks had established their village near the peak of the largest mountain overlooking the coast of Port Floré from a distance— "Mount Dreiländurr". Compared to the humid hair brought onto the shore by the Adrian Sea, the village of both anthropomorphic and feral rabbits were treated to the cool air that came from the "Nordic Sea", from North of the entire continent.
Due to her white hoodie being designed as more of a windbreaker than anything that was meant to be resistant to the cold, Juliet was gifted with a large blue-and-white plaid blanket from the young village leader himself: Peter Pipper. Holding the thick cotton blanket from the inside, so as to keep it wrapped around her small body, the enthralled little girl followed closely behind the two-foot tall brown rabbit— who unlike the rest of the harefolk native of the village, had a light-brown coat of fur,
"You see, kid; I'm not even native to Pathway— my ol' stomping grounds are all the way across the bloody Northern Channel," the jovial rabbit explained with his front paws tucked away into the side pockets of his open-buttoned blue-denim jacket. "To make a long story short, I found myself looking after this lot by happenstance alone— I stumbled across them while leaving Floré, after my human and I parted ways, and said our tearful goodbyes."
Nodding her head softly while treading through the vibrant green grounds of the village, Juliet had her blue eyes fixated on the burrowed homes that were built into the mountain itself. Unlike what she had expected, the burrowed abodes were built with clay-bricks that were used to not only create cozy paths leading up to the homes' wooden doors, but the fronts of each subterranean structure came equipped with large circular glass-windows, and were reinforced with said bricks.
"You look like you're all doing very well for yourselves, Mister Piper," Juliet complimented, with an astonished look in her eyes, after having caught a glance through the peeled-back curtains of one particular window— the sight of two larger rabbits, presumably the parental figures of the family, sitting down in their well-furnished living room with smaller harefolk brought a sense of joy to the starry-eyed child.
Glancing over his shoulder to look with his beady-black eyes at what the blond girl had been looking at, the village elder spotted a prideful smirk across his short, muzzled face, before turning his head forward.
"Thank you very kindly for that, bird; but it wasn't always sunshine and rainbows for the ol' mandem," the village elder explained with a bit of sass in his accented voice, as he escorted the curious six year-old closer to the village kitchen.
"Oh, and how so?" She asked politely, while sniffing the savory aroma in the air— her mouth watery slightly, as the tantalizing smell of hearty vegetable curry filled her nostrils.
"For starters, before I hopped over here to offer these rabbits a taste of some of that "human ingenuity" you lot got going for yourselves, everyone here sort of just avoided your kind— kind of like they do, whenever wolves are in the area…"
"… Or, how your run-or-the-mill Victorian kicks rocks, whenever a tax collector comes knocking at their door," the village elder muttered sarcastically under his breath, after having elaborated in a more clear and concise manner.
Once they had approached the beautifully-crafted door to the village kitchen, Peter hopped ahead of Juliet to use his small paws to pull open the door for her. "Ngh…! L-Ladies first— I insist…!" He uttered out with a strained voice— his ego getting the best of him, as he forced himself to hold open a solid wood door that weighed nearly thirty-times more than he did.
Noticing how much effort he was putting in— all for the sake of chivalry— Juliet smiled worryingly at the strained rabbit, and made sure to thank him as she quickly walked past the front door, and into the large cafeteria-styled dining hall. Taking in another deep breath of warm, delicious air into her small lungs, Juliet happily began shedding the blanket from her small body, just as the village elder used what energy he had left to throw himself onto the wooden floor.
Catching his breath and silently gasping while Juliet had her back turned to him, the moment he saw her beginning to turn back around to face him was the same moment he quickly picked himself off of the floor— wearing a nonchalant face, while silently becoming lightheaded as his small muscles begged his respiratory system for more oxygen.
"Thank you again, Mister Piper, for all the hospitality! You and your friends were the highlight of this little… Misadventure, that Miss Amerika and I had gotten ourselves into— that's for certain," Juliet thanked sincerely, while the childish excitement seemed to lessen by the time she had finished speaking.
Noticing the change in the six year-old's demeanor, the village elder offered Juliet an empathic smile. "Ah…! Think nothing of it, kid; it's always a pleasure to have good company— especially well-mannered girls, who are as sweet as you are, love," the small rabbit said in a charming manner— making the six year-old blush bashfully, while doing his best to not only hide his exhaustion, but the pity he felt for her.
"Now come along, kid; let's get you grub! God knows you could use some meat on those lil' bones of yours," the village elder said in a expressive manner— hopping ahead of the amused little girl, and feeling slightly more relieved, once he had successfully lifted the orphan's spirits.
Far from the peaceful villages of harefolk who were celebrating a new member to their community, Amerika sat high above on the seventh floor of the Ripose Tavern and Inn— an open bottle of brandy in her small hand, as she sat at the study table that was in the corner of her rented bedroom.
Tasting nothing but the sickly sweet aftertaste of her cheap bottle of hard liquor, the drunken goblin stared bitterly out through the barred window adjacent to where the queen-sized bed was— on the opposite side of the room, where she and her crafting tools were set up for the evening.
Set back by essentially having been robbed of not only her revolver, but the scoped lever action she had brought to ironically protect the same little girl who demanded she give her firearms and ammo over, Amerika— by all accounts— wanted nothing more than to feel her anger directed at Juliet.
Having confided in the six year-old in more ways than one, and vice-versa having been told Juliet's darkest moments that not even Ren had the displeasure of hearing, Amerika was unable to feel angry at anyone else, other than herself— self disgust at what she had done to drive the sweetest human she had ever met away burned more than the brandy did, as she took another large gulp of it down her small throat.
Loosening her lips from the tip of the glass' bottleneck tip, Amerika let out a hot breath as she felt her insides warming up— the fairy lights that were strung outside her window beginning to blur, as the room and whatever she could see of the neighboring building felt as though they were swaying.
Unable to stray her mind away from the awful things she had said to the emotionally vulnerable child, Amerika flinched repeatedly while setting the nearly emptied bottle of alcohol down on the desk— her flushed face contorting, as each memory of what she had remorsefully said felt like a burn on her back.
'That lil girl I saw layin' in a pool of her own p-piss and blood…? She deserved that— h-had wot was comin' to her…'
'… Ever since that shite happened to yew, I've felt nothin'— and I mean NOTHIN'— but DISGUST at wot a pitiful piece of shite yew are…!'
'For once in yewr pathetic life, why don't yew stop pretendin' to live in whatever bullshite fantasy yew've got goin' on for yourself, and actually make a real fockin' difference out here…?!'
'Fockin' coddled lil' coward, is wot yew bloody are— can't do shite, when it matters the most…'
'… Bet that's why yewr fockin' parents are dead too— innit?'
Downing the last drop of her cheap brandy, Amerika made no attempt to catch it as it slipped away from her fingers— sobbing unintelligible words under her breath, the bottle landed hard on the wooden floorboards with a loud thud. Unable to even look in the direction of Ren's letter that laid splayed out across the center of the study table, the defeated goblin girl remained looking up towards the direction of the ceiling, until finally her drunken mind slipped away into unconsciousness.
Twelve hours away from the lively city of Floré, the ferry ship the "Admiral Joe Fowler" sailed southwest of Pathway's boot-shaped land of "Monte Vista"; the reinforced vessel sailed smoothly through the gentle waters of the Ion Sea, as the cascading light of the full moon above danced along the glistening dark-waters.
Those who were off duty, and to the fifty adventurers— who the sailors of the captain were hired by the monarchy to service them— down below the main deck, supper was being served within the crowded hall of the boat's galley.
Overcrowded, and with the pungent odor of over fifty men and women— and everything else between, or outside of those two groups— filing the musky dining hall. Standing in line to be served by one the kitchen's line chefs was a young man with yellow-hair— his blue eyes narrowed in disgust, as he watched the unhygienic man across the counter from him plop a spoon full of a boiled sardines, all mashed together in a steaming pile of mush, that sat beside a small serving of dried vegetables.
"This is foul…! Aren't adventurers supposed to be held to a higher regard than…?! T-Than THIS?!" The young warrior complained aloud, with an appalled expression across his face, as he turned his head over his armored-shoulder to look back at the female half-elf that was standing behind him. "Right, Casandra— you think so too?!"
Timidly smiling back at her exasperated party leader, the petite young girl shrugged her bare shoulders at him while lowering her green-eyed gaze ever-so-slightly to the cracked plate of food that she had in the center of her own wooden, chipped serving tray.
"I… I want to believe that they're trying their best, Quattro, but on the other hand…" Cassandra trailed off, and began frowning slightly as stared more intently at her pile of boiled fish— letting out a disappointed sigh, after realizing that the chefs hadn't been bothered to de-bone the sardines.
"… At least it's free," she muttered, and exchanged momentary glances with Quattro, before the two of them raised their trays across the counter, where they each received half an onion, and a rock-hard slab of expired bread.
While everyone else was down below the ship— either trying their best to scarf down their abhorrent suppers, or manning their posts— Ren decided to have his own "dinner for one", up in the crow's nest.
Having convinced the sailor that had been tasked with watching the horizon to continue his duties down below, from the high rung of the crow nest's Jacob's ladder, Ren had brought all of his possessions up onto the platform of the wooden structure.
With a wooden half-walls around him to conceal the truth of his age, Ren placed a blanket down to sit on before removing every bit of his armor— the salty air of the calm sea actually being welcomed by the eleven year-old, now that his helmet no longer had to filter out the decades worth of odors that were brewing down below the main deck.
Setting his duffel bag vertically up against the inside of the circular wooden half-wall around him, Ren turned the ivory knob of his helmet to activate the hidden headlamp function, before placing it on top of the brown-leather bag.
Now that he had more than just the light of the full moon to help him see what he was doing, Ren carefully rifled through his tote bag to pull out one of the packaged MREs that Amerika skillfully made for him, after they had gotten done with their shopping spree in Floré.
Feeling rather famished, Ren excitedly bit down on the top of the parchment paper before tearing the top of the MRE open— a smile across his pale lips, as he spilled its contents onto the olive-green blanket that he was sitting on top of.
Using an instant heat pack to warm up a small jar of water without the need of a flame, Ren was able to have boiling water for his pack of noodles, and for his insulated flask that came with the large MRE.
With the help of a bullion cube made from salt, and dehydrated beef stock, Ren used the jar of boiling broth to not only cook his noodles, but to cook the other dehydrated vegetables that the goblin girl had packed for him as well.
In only six minutes, the eleven year-old had a metal jar of beef ramen with chopped vegetables, a small flask of coffee— made from instant powder, sugar, and powdered creamer that had all been processed and refined by the ingenious goblin girl— and finally a bag of mountain-mix for dessert.
Taking a deep breath of the savory hot ramen that was mixed with the smell of freshly brewed coffee, Ren's mouth was salivating as he picked the four-pronged fork that had been crafted for him. Sitting cross legged, Ren used his gloved hand to pick up the metal jar of ramen— scraping the inside of the glass with his fork, while twirling his eating utensil.
Before he could scoop out a forkful of ramen, Ren froze as he heard the same unhinged, feminine voice from before gasping loudly from across the platform from him— his heart skipping a beat, as he looked up with his widened eyes at the hooded silhouette that was obscured by the light of his helmet.
"So that's what you look like…!" The sleek, armored figure mused with an child-like tone of wonder in their voice— the glowing white slits along their black mask finally being made out by the shocked eleven year-old, who shuddered uneasily as the intrusive person effortlessly hopped over the half-wall across from where they were sitting.
"You're a whole lot easier on the eyes than I thought you'd be— that's for sure," they admitted in a jovial voice, while reaching their gloved hands up to pull down their own hooded cowl— revealing the rest of their masterly crafted helmet.
Sliding back a mechanism that was hidden on the back of their black helmet, Ren realized all of his suspicions from earlier were confirmed upon hearing the mysterious stranger's headgear hissing while it unsealed itself.
Pale-skinned with a head full of messy, shoulder-length white hair, the person before Ren had a feminine face that matched the way they spoke, yet there was still a trace of masculinity within his bone structure that made their gender that much harder for him to pin down.
Adorning the androgynous person's bangs were red hairpins that had been aligned in a way that made them resemble the number twenty-two: XXII. With how youthful they appeared, Ren thought to check their ears, and came to discover that they were indeed human-like, instead of the iconic pointed ones elves had.
Both equally fascinated and uncomfortable with how the deranged, albeit admittedly beautiful person standing before him was smiling at him, Ren took another look at their short and slim stature, before darting his dusty-rose colored eyes back to their purple-eyed stare.
"W… W-What are you doing here?" Ren finally managed to ask, after having trouble finding his voice amongst the bewilderment that had left him feeling a sense of mental whiplash.
Blushing slightly, the young person before them giggled bashfully as they whimsically shrugged their slender shoulders at him. "It's…! It's a bit embarrassing, buuuuut," they trailed off, before plopping themselves down across from where Ren was at— crossing their legs, while sitting down on the eleven year-old's blanket as well. "There was a problem downstairs— a really big, BIG problem!"
"… Such as?" Ren asked, while finding himself growing more annoyed with the intrusive person's presence, as they began eyeing his prepared meal with hungry eyes.
"Well~...! Call me a "Snobby Snob" if you must, but I wasn't about to subject myself to eating any sort of steaming pile of literal garbage that they're trying to pass of as food— no sire, Bob!" The white-haired stranger stated childishly, while shaking their head at the mere idea.
Stopping their head movement on a dime, they paused before darting their purple eyes up to meet Ren's uncomfortable gaze— their bashful expression becoming more sinister-like, as they reached an arm up to gesture at him.
"… And then that's when I thought of you; the kindhearted soul, who had themselves luxurious comforts, that were all beyond the recognition of about ninety-nine percentage of the world's population," they remarked with a lowered tone of voice, and lowered their raised hand down at the prepared meal laid out before Ren's crossed legs.
The tension between the two became more intense, as the person before them slowly retracted their hand away from Ren's personal bubble— his eyelids gently closing, as he let out a relaxed sigh, while playfully clapping his plans together in front of his chest
"So…! Here's what's going to happen next," the mysterious person said in a quiet, intimidating voice, as they fluttered their eyelids open to stare crazily at Ren, who by all accounts was gripping the handle of his fork all that much tighter.
"Either I break your pretty-little neck in my hands, and eliminate whatever variable you present, that'll enviably jeopardize my mission," they stated whimsically, with a pleasant smile across their lips.
'Oh, fuck…' Ren thought dreadfully to himself, while doing his best to remain calm, as he quickly began mapping out a course of action— starting with him possibly having to jab the fork into the person's left eye, before using his concealed revolver out to unload all six shots into their head.
All of which was based entirely on whether he was faster than they were; the mere mention of how they were going to break his neck with just their hands made Ren wary of just how deceptively strong they were.
"… Orrrrrr~," they added after a momentary pause in the conversation, as they began giving Ren a smug smirk while wiggling their thin eyebrows at him. "We can side-step that contingency plan altogether, and you tell me the REAL reason why you're here— over a hot meal together, nonetheless!"
Grimacing slightly as the white-haired individual sitting down across from them gestured for him to speak, Ren felt a bead of his own sweat beginning to trickle down the side of his face, as he swallowed the lump that had been building on the inside of his throat.
'… Not leaving me much in terms of an array of options, are you?' Ren thought nervously to himself, and took in a deep breath before letting out a sigh of defeat. "… Fine… Let me get you-!?"
"-Nah, I'll get it myself!" They interrupted with a look of suspicion in their purple eyes, before reaching a tattooed hand into Ren's unzipped duffle bag. Rifling through his belongings, the white-haired person bit down thoughtfully on his bottom lip before perking up, upon his fingertips grazing across the thick, crinkly material of what he knew to be parchment paper.
"That's the spice...!" They exclaimed happily, as they unintentionally pulled out a surplus of Ren's belongings out from his duffel bag— resulting in them placing the MRE down in front of them, before leaning forward to shove the items back into their leather compartment.
Effortlessly tearing the parchment packaging up with just their fingertips, the white-haired person made an explosion sound with their mouth, while shaking the bag and dumping its contents onto the blanket space in front of their crossed legs.
Without needing to be instructed on what to do, they began heating up the metal jar with a crushed heating packet— letting it heat up, without seeming at all intrigued by its chemical reaction, as they began dumping sugar, creamer, and instant coffee into their own flask.
"So… What's your name then, hmmm~?" They asked with a bit of a flirtatious voice, as they rested their elbows on their knees and brought their forearms up to hold their chin up— moshing their own cheeks, while staring back expectantly at Ren while waiting for their water to come to a boil.
"… Goblin Slayer," he said quietly, while looking away from the giggling person's purple eyes, to stare instead at the metal jar that was sitting on top of the flameless heating pad.
"Kuwah, haha ha! I meant your REAL name, dummy! Not your "pretend name"— huha, haha~!" The white-haired person retorted with an amused look across their face, and let out a few more laughs before pointing a thumb up to point at their own armored chest.
"Liiiiiiike ME, for example!" They continued, and lowered their hand down while explaining, "I sometimes go by "Joker," but my actual name is "Luciano Lockhart"— buuuuut, you can just call me "Luca", for shortsies~!"
Muttering back Luca's full name under his breath to not only show his captor that he was listening to them, but to help himself memorize it— in case he needed to investigate them, if he survived his quest— the eleven year-old nodded his contemplatively, and licked his lips subtly before reluctantly answering them.
"R… Ren… My name's Ren Ashta," he introduced himself, frowning as the faintest amount of steam was finally beginning to rise from the top of the metal jar.
'… Goddamn, that water's taking forever,' Ren thought exasperatingly to himself, while just wanting the life-threatening dinner date to be over and done with as quickly as possible.
According to how long it was taking for the possibly defective heating pad to warm up Luca's water, Ren couldn't help but dread at just how long their interaction would stretch out.