Chapter Text
The sun was beginning to set, and with each minute the forest was growing more dangerous, so Fundy didn’t pay too much mind to anything that wasn’t a monster or a tree in his way. He spent the day walking around, trying to remember any places worth visiting later, he was fairly new to the area after all. He found a few clearings with berries, a couple of promising-looking caves, and a nice, cool stream he could start getting his water from sometime soon, so he considered this trip to be rather successful. He wasn’t too far from his newly-built cottage when he heard a surprisingly loud cry. It didn’t sound like any monster he knew, it was worryingly human-like instead, and whatever was making it seemed to be distressed.
“H- Hello?” he called out into the forest. Rather than answering, the same sound reached his ears again. “Who’s there?!” he demanded, and the noise that followed was somewhat muffled.
He cautiously looked around, nothing seemed to be approaching him, the sun still offered a few more minutes of some light, and he figured it couldn’t be a trap… who would try to trap him of all people? He was the only one living nearby, and even that was new. Another cry came, and each time he heard it, it resembled someone screaming as if they were getting murdered. Slowly, he reached for his sword before taking the first cautious steps in the direction the noise was coming from. Then, silently cursing himself for not doing the more rational thing, he sped up. Whoever was yelling, they’d probably die the second the sun fully sets, and if he ever finds out it was someone he knew… he’d never forgive himself.
“Where are you?” he called out, trying to sound less demanding than previously. Still, the cries seemed to be growing closer yet quieter, as if whoever was hurting was trying to hide. “I want to help, I-” he tried to explain, but as he entered a small clearing, he stopped. “...Oh.”
He found the source of the cries. In the dark green grass, surrounded by deep-brown tree trunks and the night’s shadow, there it was. A small, snow-white fox kit staring back at him with wide eyes, frozen in its place. After a moment of just watching him, it let out the all-too-familiar-now cry and took a tiny step back. Fundy’s heart sank when he noticed the wound on one of the animal’s legs, but all the doubt about following the cries left his mind. Even if it’d mean staying out for the entire night, he would still want to help.
“...Hey there,” he muttered as softly as he could, trying to step forward. The kit took a few more clumsy steps before losing its balance and almost tripping, all while its eyes seemed to widen even more.
Oh, right. Of course. It was a wild fox after all. Fundy shouldn’t expect it to trust a human. Even if the human in question had fox ears and a tail, he was far from being trustworthy in this situation. This, however, brought him to a new idea. He closed his eyes and it took a little effort and energy, it always did, but when he reopened them after a moment, he was a bit shorter, and much more fox-like. He didn’t shapeshift too often, staying in the more animalistic form usually earned him nothing but stares and mean jokes, but it did make at least some animals trust him faster. Hoping that this would be the case this time as well, he took another step forward.
“It’s alright, see?” he said, and while the fox seemed to stay tense, it didn’t try to run again, just watching him curiously this time.
He finally got close enough to crouch down right in front of it. It still stayed in its place, so he took this opportunity to take a better look at its leg. There was some blood, and the wound seemed fresh but, to his relief, not too serious. The kit was probably more shocked and disoriented than in pain, which he figured was a better option. Still, he didn’t think leaving it alone and unattended was something he should do. No matter how non-lethal, the wound should still be taken care of. With a sigh, he carefully reached forward. Oh, he was so ready for the fox to bite him, and if it did, he couldn’t even blame it.
“I’ll help you, okay? I- I’ll take you somewhere safe and we’ll fix up your leg,” he explained despite knowing that the fox probably didn’t understand a word. “I’ll have to carry you there, I think. Please stay calm…”
He reached forward and carefully put his hands on the fox’s sides. It didn’t react by trying to run again, perhaps a bit too surprised to do that, but he didn’t waste his opportunity and picked it up. Only when he was back to his feet and ready to start walking home, the animal yelped and started to squirm in his arms, trying to paw at his hand rather than biting it. Confused and alarmed by its reaction, he tried to hold it in a more comfortable way only to notice a small scratch on its side. It was even less serious than the wound on its leg, it wasn’t even bleeding, but if he accidentally put his hand over it…
“Sorry, sorry,” he hushed, changing the way he held the fox to make sure he doesn’t touch any of its wounds. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” he assured and for some unexplainable reason, the kit seemed to calm down at that. Who was he to question that, though?
The next morning, Fundy woke up in his giant bed with no memory of a nightmare nor any signs of having one. The best way to start a day, in his humble opinion. He did, however, have a fox kit curled up in one of the bed’s corners, still asleep without a care in the world. Its wounds were covered and it was on a great way to full recovery, Fundy could probably let it go back into the forest in a day, or even earlier, without feeling guilty about doing so. Carefully, he got to his feet, put on his jacket, and snuck over to one of the chests. He wanted the animal to rest some more, it must’ve been very tired the night before. Because how else could he explain how calm it stayed while he fixed its wounds?
He opened the chest, briefly searched through it, pulled out a few berries he put away the day before so he could have them for breakfast, and looked back at his bed. The white fox was already looking back at him, rather curious that alarmed, still curled into a ball. Fundy slowly looked between his little guest and the food in his hand before sighing and approaching it.
“Hungry?” he asked, and the fox seemed to perk up at the question. Once again writing it off as a coincidence, he held out a few berries for the animal to take. “Of course you are,” he sighed while the kit ate all he handed to it and looked at him as if asking for more. Without a word, he placed a few more berries on his bed. “...How are you feeling?”
The fox paused from eating and looked directly at him. Then, its tail wagged slightly and it let out a cheerful little yip before returning to the food. Not an answer Fundy expected, but he expected to get nothing, and this was much better than that. With a muffled chuckle, he placed the last few berries in front of the animal, figuring his guest deserved them for being such a smart little fox.
“That’s good to hear. Eat all of them, buddy. I’m sure I’ll find some more for myself,” he assured. Just before taking the last one, the fox paused, looking between the food and Fundy a couple of times. For a moment, the fox hybrid stayed silent, but when it became apparent that his guest was sharing with him, he finally reached for the berry. “How gracious of you,” he sighed. A single berry wasn’t too much, but it was the thought that counted, wasn't it?
Fundy decided to ignore the fact that normal, wild foxes usually don’t have too many thoughts.
A little short of a week passed, and Fundy once again woke up in his bed with no hint of a nightmare. The fox kit, now fully recovered, was sleeping on the pillow right next to his head and he could swear every morning it seemed to be getting closer. He figured it was a sign of growing trust rather than an attempt to suffocate him in his sleep one night, and he preferred that option. It surely seemed to grow more attached to him each day, or maybe it just liked free food? Regardless, it rarely wanted to leave the cottage, and if it did, it was quick to return.
He took a moment to look over the fox, or Yogurt, as he decided to call it, before sitting up in his bed with a fond smile. He couldn’t quite explain it, but having it by his side was strangely comforting. Sure, he might’ve moved to the middle of nowhere strictly to avoid anyone and everyone, but he’d still pick his new companion over full solitude any day. It was a delight to be around, really, even if he now had to gather almost two times as many berries to keep both of them fed. Speaking of, he left the bed and approached the chest now designated to hold food. He opened it and looked at the bed only to see the fox wake up and swiftly raise its head at the sound.
“Good morning,” he chuckled to himself as the animal got to its feet and jumped off the bed to join him by his side. “Looks like someone’s hungry?”
He held out a few berries in his hand and Yogurt didn’t even hesitate before taking them and starting his breakfast. The fox hybrid reached back into the chest and got some more food for himself before going to sit on the edge of his bed. He still hadn’t shifted back into his humanlike form, at first it was to keep his guest more comfortable, then out of worry, he really didn’t want to scare the kit, even if he was suspecting it wouldn’t leave him even if he tried to chase it off. He watched it finish the food and jump back onto the bed, curling up by his side and leaning its head against him, and he was convinced it felt at home around him. Surely it wouldn’t run off if he shifted back…
There was one way to check.
“Hey, Yogurt?” he started, and the kit raised its head back up. “I want to show you something,” he announced, getting off the bed and stretching briefly. When he looked back, the fox was already sitting up, watching him curiously. He always admired how smart his companion appeared to be, it was as if it understood everything he said. “It’s a bit of a trick, okay? And please don’t… panic? It’s not something bad.”
The fox kit continued to stare at him, which was as much of a response as he expected. If it got scared of a more human version of him, he’d just change back and not try that again, it was as simple as that. After taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, and with just a bit of effort shapeshifted back into a human-with-fox-features. He looked back at Yogurt, fully expecting to see the animal backing away in fright, but instead it stayed in its place. It looked at this version of him with something similar to amazement or excitement in its eyes for a moment before closing its eyes to, trying to mimic what Fundy did to change into it.
“Aw, Yogurt,” he chuckled quietly, crouching down by the bed. “I don’t think it’ll work for you, buddy,” he informed. How could he not be fond of this little fox kit if that’s the first idea that came to its mind?
His smile faded into a mix of surprise and confusion when within a blink of an eye, the fox was gone. Well, gone might’ve been the wrong word to use, it was still there, just… not a fox. Instead of an animal, there was a human child sitting on Fundy’s bed. Mostly human, at least. A little boy looking up at him with a gleeful expression, wearing an old, oversized shirt, with a white, puffy tail behind his back and fox-like ears on his head. He had white, curly hair, blue eyes, and despite looking so awfully pale didn’t show any signs of being cold or sick.
“...Huh?” was all Fundy managed to say, looking over the child and trying to figure out how that happened.
The boy didn’t answer, but let out a happy-sounding noise and puffed out his chest in pride. Then, he looked up at the still-speechless man in front of him as if expecting praise, and when he noticed how shocked the man seemed, his grin slowly fell. He curled up slightly, keeping his hands close to himself, and the way he was looking at Fundy now made it seem like he wondered if he did something wrong. Just then the man finally shook off the surprise and found himself smiling. Who cares how this happened? All that mattered was that- Holy shit.
“H-hey, Yogurt!” he said, getting the little kid’s attention. “This is- Did you do that before? This is- good job!” he assured, and with relief watched the happy grin return to his guest’s face.
The child reached forward to him, leaving him lost as to how to respond to the gesture. He hesitantly reached forward too, and the second he was within the Yogurt’s reach, the boy grabbed his hand and impatiently pulled it closer. Then, he moved it up to reach for his hair, and Fundy had to admit that the curls were surprisingly soft for those belonging to a kid who probably didn’t know the meaning of “shower”. He absentmindedly petted Yogurt’s head, causing the boy to let out another joyful noise, and the situation slowly dawned on him.
This was a kid. In his house. In the middle of nowhere. With no parent in sight- who was he kidding, possibly no parent at all. A child holding onto his hand. A little boy he’s been taking care of for a little short of a week. A tiny shapeshifter he couldn’t possibly throw back into the forest, no, he’d never forgive himself if he even tried that… Was he ready for parenthood, though? Well, it’s not like he had too much of a choice in this situation.
With a soft smile, he ruffled Yogurt’s hair before taking his hand back, watching the boy look at him with confusion as to what just happened. Chuckling quietly, he got back up and carefully reached for the boy to pick him up, and he wasn’t met with any resistance. Instead, the kid gently clutched at the back of his jacket the second it was within his reach, pulling himself closer.
“Looks like I have a son,” Fundy muttered to himself, and the boy in his arms let out yet another happy squeal. And somehow, the man had a feeling it’d go okay.
Things did go okay. Relatively okay, at least. He managed to get his hands on some clothes that fit his new son, he made sure what foods he could eat, and he even managed to teach him a few words! Yogurt was a bright kid and a fast learner, that much became apparent early on, and it made some things easier. He was also very curious and would get almost-overly energetic, and while it led to some… less fun events, Fundy figured this was just the case with kids.
There was this one time Yogurt got hungry and went through the chests in search of food while Fundy was busy fixing his axe, which broke a few hours prior. He was just about done sharpening it again when he heard his son spitting loudly, a spider eye in hand, and this must’ve been the closest he was to a heart attack in his life. It didn’t end in an absolute disaster, he had some milk somewhere nearby and it didn’t take too much convincing to get Yogurt to drink it, easing the poison’s effects. And sure, the kid might’ve been bummed out for a couple of hours and complained about the bitter taste on his tongue no matter how much water he drank, but he was fine. He was okay.
Fundy threw out any spider eyes he had left in his house after that. No matter how much he liked to occasionally snack on them, they looked too much like berries, and he never wanted to see his son like that again.
Save for that accident, things were seriously going well. Yogurt started joining Fundy on his walks through the forest and could easily lead his dad to well-hidden clearings with the best berries either of them ever tasted. He also occasionally came along when the man was going caving, proudly holding the torch he was handed and bravely informing Fundy whenever he heard a suspicious noise coming from the darkness. They worked well when they were working together, Fundy figured. No matter how tiny, he now had two extra hands wherever he went. And if most of the time his son held onto his tail to make sure he didn’t get lost rather than "helping", so what? At least he wasn’t alone.
Despite moving here for some solitude, he hated the idea of it now.
Eventually, his nightmares returned. They always would, it didn’t take him long to realize that. He could now tell when they happened even before looking outside to find a desert, the empty spot in the bed said it all. And when he unavoidably woke up screaming, he didn’t have to wake up alone. The first time it happened, Yogurt was more confused than anything, the next few just made the boy look more and more concerned, but every time he was quick to give his dad the biggest hug he possibly could and refused to go back to sleep until the man was completely calm. Words could not express how much Fundy appreciated that.
The day Fundy decided to break the news to his son, Yogurt seemed to already sense that something was wrong. They sat down by the bed, two fully-packed bags by Fundy's side as he tried to pick his words right. The kid watched him with curiosity, and he was worried that no matter how he said what he had to, it’d upset the boy. But he had to tell him today.
“So, Yogurt…” he started nervously. “We’re moving?”
“...Mo… ving?” the boy repeated, tilting his head in confusion. Any other day, Fundy would be proud of him for learning to pronounce a new word, but he had something else to focus on this time.
“Yeah, moving. We’ll go live somewhere else. It’s a nice place, it’s not too hot there, and there are good people there,” he explained, but it didn’t seem to convince the kid, who now held his hands close to himself and watched the man with a small frown on his face.
“Why…?” he asked slowly.
“Well, I have a… friend there. He said we can move there. It’s good to live with other people, it’s safer,” he explained. Yogurt frowned and looked around the house they were in.
“Safe,” he stated finally, a word he learned well while keeping a lookout for monsters when caving.
“...Well, yeah, it’s safe here. It’s safer there, though. Imagine what would happen if a horde of monsters appeared here overnight. We would struggle to chase them off, right? And if we lived with more people, we could join forces. We’ll be safer there,” he explained in a way he figured the boy would understand. He apparently did, because his confusion was soon replaced by a saddened expression.
“...But.... home?” he asked, and Fundy couldn’t help but sigh.
“I know,” he nodded. “But look, this wasn’t always our home. I lived far, far away from here and you lived in the forest. It’s our home now and it’s nice, but… sometimes we have to go somewhere new. And it’s still home. Home is… where you feel safe and comfortable, yeah? And we’ll both feel like that in Las Nevadas,” he assured. The boy still seemed upset, but nodded along.
“...Okay,” he muttered. After a moment of hesitance, Fundy gently poked his son’s chest.
“You know what someone once told me when I didn’t want to move? That home is wherever your heart is. If you love the new place, it’ll be your home. If you love this house more, it’ll still be your home. Even if we won’t live here, we can always visit.”
If the fact that the man himself wasn’t sure how his explanation went from “Las Nevadas will be our home because it’s good” to “This cottage can still be our home if you like it, we just won't live here” was anything to go off of, it was a bad explanation. Though, after a moment of thought, his son took a step forward and trapped him in a hug. For a moment, the man thought he was just looking for comfort, and that maybe he should’ve put more thought into his words… But then he heard the boy mutter “Home” quietly, and suddenly he was the one doing his best not to cry.
From that day forward, Yogurt decided that no matter where he went, it would be his home. The berry patches, the caves, the cottage, and the new place. With his dad, it was a home.