Chapter Text
Gourmand had gotten themselves well and truly lost. There was a ceiling above them, protecting them from the weather more or less, but a floor? Not so. They had to make leaps across open gaps more often than they were comfortable with. Worse: there was no food for quite a while in any direction, unless they were willing to buckle down and get into a proper fight with the local predators. Certainly, Gourmand had eaten plenty before coming to this place—the Underhang. They had no need to eat again yet, but there was one more issue.
Before Gourmand were two little pups.
Now, it wasn’t a bad thing for pups to be alone; wandering the big, open world was an even better teacher than parents could hope to be. A few scraps, a couple hunts, some foraging—the slugpups would learn much faster than coddled at home. But here? They were far beyond any colony’s territory, never mind any sane parent’s. A single sniff told Gourmand the two hadn’t been near an adult slugcat in cycles. They smelt of rain and metal and the rank scent of slime mold long since foul. Chances were, the two little ones were only eating what wasn’t taken by others, regardless of its state.
Yet when Gourmand stepped forward, throat rolling in a soothing purr, the older of the pair hissed. Not unusual; slugpups knew from birth that the only safe adult was a parent, or one of the colony. Gourmand was neither. They only continued to purr, moving closer to the duo. The elder hissed louder. The down of their youth was speckled with bristling patches of adult fur, though their teeth were mixed between milk and new; some were even simply missing. The poor thing must have been attacked by something for them to grow adult fur so soon after their milk teeth began falling out. Behind the larger white pup, their presumed sibling—a smaller, fatter little pup, still soft with need for milk and their yellow fur entirely too fuzzy for the little one to be out in the world—shrank down silently, trembling.
This simply would not do. Gourmand’s throat rumbled reassuringly as they marched forward and took the two pups by the paws. The younger was terribly silent, but the larger screeched a pup-cry for their parents. Whatever bravado the poor thing had mustered vanished under the realization that Gourmand was much too strong for them. They thrashed terribly, little teeth flashing white in the dim light as they cried and shrieked in fear. Gourmand hefted the two up, holding them close to their body as they continued along their way. The white slugpup went quiet in Gourmand’s arms, one quivering fore-paw clutching at their sibling’s tail. Poor pups. Gourmand could feel their little ribs so prominently, and the pounding of their hearts. The yellow one was almost hyperventilating.
They would learn that Gourmand was no threat, but the first step to that was going somewhere safe.
Somewhere safe was turning into a higher demand than Gourmand had hoped it would be. They’d passed through many, many rooms, and were only now reaching somewhere they recognized. A long, metal hallway that led to a bottomless pit. There was a roughly painted symbol on a wall; a scav sign, one indicating a shelter far below. Strange, since Gourmand hadn’t seen any scavengers, but they were not liars.
The slugpups had stopped shaking, but that seemed less due to their adjustment to Gourmand, and more closely related to the croaking and crackling filling the air. Pack hunters, if Gourmand remembered correctly. Yellow lizards. It was unclear if the pups had encountered them before or were simply frozen by the idea of yet another potential threat nearby. Being carried by a stranger and delivered to another predator… Certainly, some adults would take strangers’ pups and use them to lure predators out of hiding for an ambush.
Gourmand was not one of those adults. They pushed the yellow pup onto their shoulders and clutched the white one tighter. Given that they hadn’t fled earlier, Gourmand was confident the younger would not go anywhere without their sibling. The white one was less clear, protective though they seemed. It was safer to hold them directly. The large slugcat tightened their grip on the white one and ran. The pit opened up before Gourmand. Below, near the entrance to the shelter, were the lizards. They patrolled the poles lazily, snapping and crackling at one another absentmindedly as they roamed.
It reminded Gourmand, almost fondly, of their home colony.
Unfortunately, these lizards would kill Gourmand in much the same way their colony would yeeks. Unlike those yeeks, however, Gourmand had a trick or two. They made a mighty leap, grappling the nearest pole and beginning to scale it. The yellow lizards continued to play, heedless, as Gourmand ascended. The white pup in their arm was beginning to tremble again, a reedy hiss building in their throat.
Gourmand leaped again, throwing themselves to the next pole over, and once again, until they were directly above the group of lizards. The large slugcat licked their lips. On their back, the yellow pup whined. With a reassuring trill, Gourmand dropped.
The pack below remained unaware until Gourmand’s side slammed into the first lizard, knocking it off the pole and sending it plummeting—a second lizard howled as it was crushed against a platform. The rest of the group, a mere two more lizards, panicked under the sudden assault. One attempted to leap for another pole to escape, and the last simply fell, too surprised to keep its grip and following the first down, down, down.
The large slugcat pulled themselves upright, their free paw hauling the crushed lizard up onto the platform. A quick check showed that the pups were alright; one wide eyed and still on Gourmand’s back, the other shaking like a leaf. They were close enough to safety; they would be properly reassured soon. Gourmand began climbing again; slower with the lizard in addition to the two pups, but the weight was still more than manageable. With one more leap and a graceless scrabble, they landed on the hallway opposite to where they had started. From there, it was only a short trek to the shelter.
Gourmand dropped the lizard in front of the entrance. They released the white pup with a wary growl, warning the small thing against running off—the pup wouldn’t be able to clear the leap to the poles, Gourmand was sure, but better to warn the little thing lest their fear drive them to do something fatal. With experienced motions, Gourmand leaned down and cut open the lizard’s skin with their teeth. They pried open the beast until its soft insides were exposed. That done, Gourmand straightened up, granting the pup some space, and patted their belly with a grunt.
The white pup stared.
Gourmand slapped their tail on the ground once and patted their belly again. This time, the white pup looked at the lizard. Little gears began turning in their head, a new idea took hold, and the pup very, very tentatively climbed the corpse. They looked at Gourmand again—or maybe their sibling on Gourmand’s shoulders—before steadying with a deep breath and leaning down to take their first bite. The white pup tossed the strip of meat in their mouth, and only reluctantly swallowed. Hunger lit up their eyes.
The white pup descended on the corpse ravenously, eating as though they hadn’t in cycles and might not for cycles more. Gourmand watched with a mix of approval and concern; how long had these two been hungry? How hungry would the yellow pup be? The idea was disturbing. The younger was too young . They should have been in a nest. It was a little bit of a miracle that the white pup, small that they were, could eat meat. Their sibling certainly couldn’t. Ideally, the little thing wouldn’t be eating solids at all; they would be nursing still. What happened?
Gourmand closed their eyes and coughed, again and again until they eventually managed to cough up a blue fruit into their waiting paws. The shell was on; one of the many they’d stored in their exaggerated stomach pouches to bring home. They bit into the leathery shell, breaking it with ease, and began the process of sucking out the gelatinous innards. They chewed lightly on it, savoring the sweet taste of the pupae but ultimately not swallowing. This was not for Gourmand.
The large slugcat twisted and pulled the yellow slugpup into their arms. Normally, only weaned slugpups would be fed like this, but now was hardly the time to worry about particulars. The little one had baby fat still, but not nearly enough for their age. They were likely just as hungry as their larger sibling. Gourmand settled the pup in one arm as they trembled, confused and fearful. In their free paw, Gourmand spat a portion of the now soupy pupae and, not ungently, smeared it along the slugpup’s muzzle.
The little one recoiled, of course, but instincts were strong things; a pup desired to be clean as much as an adult did. They licked their lips as expected, and perked up at the taste of something new and delicious. The pup squeaked in demand for more, their fear forgotten now that they knew Gourmand had food . Gourmand spat more into their cupped paw and fed the yellow pup bit by bit, watching carefully as the yellow pup ate. By the time the dangle fruit was only half gone, the pup’s tummy was round, and their demand for food had cooled into sleepy little mewls. They could barely keep their eyes open.
Satisfied, Gourmand checked on the white pup. The elder was in much the same state, albeit still struggling to cram ever more of the lizard into their muzzle. They looked determined to continue eating, though their body swayed with exhaustion and their eyes were scarcely staying open. Gourmand simply picked up the white pup, cradling them just as they did the yellow, and walked them into the shelter.
The white pup struggled half-heartedly. Sleep was clearly winning, even before Gourmand lay down and tucked the pair against their side. The yellow one continued to mewl even as they snuggled into their sibling and their new caretaker. The elder refused to voluntarily close their eyes, only blinking in exhausted suspicion at Gourmand.
… The poor thing was filthy , now that Gourmand was properly looking at it. With the shelter sealed and their safety thus assured, it was clearly time for a bath. Gourmand stretched their neck forward and licked the pup’s head. They yelped, but did not fight when Gourmand shifted closer and began grooming them in long, slow laps. The pup went silent. Their eyes opened less and less frequently, until eventually, they did not open at all.
Gourmand continued their self-appointed task, using it as a chance to check also for injuries. Unsurprisingly, there were old ones; scarred over under their patches of adult fur, but no less present. Bumps, scrapes, bruises and scratches; all expected. Nothing felt broken and healed wrong, beyond a rib with a bump, and Gourmand was happy to finish their impromptu grooming with no unpleasant discoveries. When time came to clean the yellow slugpup, Gourmand was surprised by its state. Almost entirely unharmed. There were the expected scrapes and bruises; things gained by a pup learning to slide or climb, or even simply tripping its own paws. The worst injury was on a hind-leg; its ankle was swollen and throbbed angrily against Gourmand’s tongue. Yet even that was only a sprain; it would heal. The white pup must have taken better care of their sibling than they had themselves.
As the building began to tremble with the incoming storm, and Gourmand allowed themselves to settle in properly, troubled thoughts lingered in their mind.
Gourmand could not care for a pup here. Not in Underhang, where the only food was slime mold and the rare batfly swarm. The whole of the Exterior was an awful place, rife with death; endless falls, dangerous leaps, and lizards starving for a meal. The pups would not be safe here. But they could not return home yet, with so little food and two new mouths to feed.
Going down was not an option yet; the way back was worse, between the Leg and Shaded Citadel—even the idea of the two being anywhere near those spiders was enough to make Gourmand snarl. Certainly, the arachnids were easy enough to dissuade, even an acceptable meal if there were no lantern mice around. But these two were simply too small. Even a little coalescipede could devour them in an instant, with or without a scavenger’s lantern. No. There was too much risk.
So the only option was up.