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It was cozy inside the tree they claimed home; food was plentiful after several scavenging expeditions, the hardened wood protected them from the cascading maelstroms…
The five colorful individuals had an exact amount of zero things to worry about for the moment.
“Why?” Asked the pale yellow sibling, her ears droopy as she watched her sister fidget with the golden drone.
Survivor grinned, poking the flying mechanical anomaly, its red light flickering joyfully almost as if it were condoning her soon to be realized actions.
“I didn’t get Artificer to lend me this for nothin',” answered the sister, plain as the taste of bubble fruits. “And because it will be fun.”
Monk did not enjoy the slight, yet noticeable amounts of mischief filtering through her sister’s voice. At all.
The slugpups Survivor had brought back from her first journey were nowhere to be seen and dissuade the white slugcat from eternalizing what was to come.
She sighed, looking around for her dance partner, ears perking with every second that elapsed without her catching a glimpse of them.
Still with her attention somewhere else, Monk asked: “Did Artificer even teach how to use this?”
“That she did,” quickly answered Survivor , leaning her body against the wooden cove.
Monk snapped her attention to her sibling, one dark eye more expressive than the other.
“Did she teach you how to record with it?”
Silence.
“Yes…” Survivor trailed, an awkward smile squishing any semblance of attitude into mushy clumsiness. “Speaking of doubts, where is that slug?” Survivor questioned, ignoring her sister’s meek ‘Don't change subject!’
Monk wanted to continue the playful banter, as to not think that she would be dancing with Spearmaster, let alone do it whilst being watched! (And most likely recorded.)
Although now, she was also confused about her partner’s absence. He couldn't have overslept– she was sure he could sleep, but she had never seen it.
And he would not have gone out to hunt, every single slugcat, aside from the pups, had made sure to get him fresh food earlier.
And even then, Artificer and Saint had already applied to check for easy food for the day.
‘Why- Wait hold on, why is Sain- HOW is Saint hunting?’ Monk internalized, mouth slightly agape as she delved deeper into what could be the question of the century.
She was inclined to ask him later; although she was sure he would answer something among the lines of ‘Hunting transcends a single meaning, friend.”
“Which is a lie!” She giggled out loud, quickly moving her paws to block any other words from coming out.
The pale body of her sister turned around to look at her, expression clearly confused by the sudden outburst, and then she turned back to continue messing with the drone.
‘You will pay for all the times you outsmarted me, you fuzzy, adorable, know it all.’
It took a while, but the purple slugcat finally arrived, fidgeting his paws and locking them together.
“What took you so long?” Survivor pushed herself up from the leaning position, looking straight into the white eyes of the newcomer. “Got a spear stuck in a branch?”
The mere awkward look and repeated back-and-forth motion answered what his lack of words could not.
Survivor covered her eyes and attempted to stifle her laughter; an honorable attempt that unfortunately did not yield bountiful results.
Even Monk, his partner; could not keep herself from letting a tear roll down her left cheek as she bit her lower lip to imprison the merriment.
Spearmaster did nothing but nod, his cheeks covered the lower half of his eyes, signaling a light-hearted, yet timid smile.
“You ‘k?” Survivor asked for her. Spearmaster casually nodded thrice, letting his attention drift to the flying particles of dust.
Monk tilted her head to the side, ears trailing behind as she watched him finally get the respite he deserved from all the things he had endured in his journey.
Candidly, all of her friends now in the colony of her and her sibling's making had undergone a lot in their lives; her being no exception.
And whenever she had these little moments to ruminate in their victories and see how well all of her allies were around her, she could not help but suppress a happy sob.
“Monk,” Survivor called, breaking the comfortable silence into even cozier chit-chat. “Bring your silly expression here instead of there and start dancing!”
Oh yeah, that was what she had planned, learning Spearmaster's newfound hobby: recreational duet dancing.
She did not know how to dance.
He did not know how to dance.
The only slugcats that knew how to dance were out.
The only slugcats that were showing them the ropes were out.
And the only other slugcat in vicinity, aside from her partner, was holding an object supposed to safekeep the event forever.
And it had all been her idea.
Monk silently groaned, and it was not aimed at none other than herself and her penchant at clinging to the record of the longest spree of terrible time in history.
The pale gold slugcat looked around, grasping at straws to find good things in the absolute chaos that would soon unfold.
Good things: Spearmaster;
The ground was soft;
Her sister's company.
Nevermind, she had a recording gizmo and a manic grin.
Bad things: Her sister's company;
Everything else.
“You two ready?” Survivor asked, shifting between looking at the messenger and her sibling.
Spearmaster, whose focus was mostly on absentmindedly doodling on the ground to pass the time, quickly got up and excitedly nodded.
Monk honestly expected to see her hesitancy reflected in his actions, however, seeing the purple slugcat's anticipation to share a fun moment with her only made her slightly rueful of herself.
“Yep,” she answered, scattering her doubts to the void and looking at Spearmaster, of whom already had his paw extended at her to lead the waltz.
In that singular moment; if any worry remained within her, it was gone.
The warm winds felt warmer; the lovable comfort was not simply surrounding her anymore, but instead embracing both of them.
One step right, faces closer, but not too close; no need for convoluted moves yet, everything was still serene and well paced.
Above them, fluffy clouds complemented the deep blue aether with pale golden wisps, exactly as she completed him.
A move to the left and a quick twist, one she had been audacious enough to lead.
Survivor whistled a melody, giving them something to sync their steps to, Spearmaster shot her a grateful look and even waved.
Their tails and feet engraved the dusty ground with ephemeral memories of their performance.
As she continued, reminiscing of her struggles around the world searching for her dear sister, remembering the things she endured.
Of slain and befriended creatures; of areas begone and missions accomplished.
Monk blinked, clearly seeing her partner following alongside the song, this time feelings reflected by those clear eyes.
Glee.
Comfort.
She chuckled; loosening her grip from his arm and pushing him between a twirl, before tightening the grasp again; her other paw stretched.
A triumphant, thrilling esoteric pose; one that Spearmaster seemed to quite enjoy.
She could feel his shocked heavy breaths traveling through the vibrations between their linked arms.
“Pick the pace.” Monk said, her partner took a second to understand what she referred to.
The silly perked ears were the signal she needed to be assured of his understanding.
Reaching the final crescendo, Spearmaster took the lead again, gently bringing her closer so his planned finale could be carried out.
He nodded to her, cheeks once more covering the lower half of his eye, she responded with the same motion.
The Spearmaster closed his eyes for a split second, so he could muster the remaining courage, and then he carried the first step of the coda.
Finally, Monk remembered why she was so apprehensive.
Being dropped from his embrace, she was falling with her back aimed at the ground.
The concluding move was for one of the dancers to catch the other mid-fall, and she had no idea what she was supposed to do.
And apparently nor did Spearmaster, because the list of things wrong kept increasing second after second.
Spearmaster managed to wrap one arm behind her back; although despite his best efforts he had done it a bit too soon.
She was, quite literally, being carried; her feet could not touch the ground and the only thing giving her any semblance to a footing was her tail touching the earth.
Spearmaster was, at that singular moment in time: Awkward, trembling, probably not using his tail as a counterweight to his upper half, and worst of all, had the wrong stance.
The yellow slugcat was not doing anything right either, completely favoring using her loose arm to scavenge for any signs of ground instead of wrapping it around her partner's neck.
“WE ARE GONN-” And before she could even utter their destiny, they had already met it.
They fell onto the soft earthy ground, Survivor quickly catching up to make sure they had not hurt themselves.
Aside from the aftershock, neither member of the duet felt anything negative, much the contrary, the urge to burst out laughing overtook all of their worries.
“Gotta up your game,” Monk poked Spearmaster’s side, who retributed the playful gesture with a dramatic crossing of his arms and looking away as to mask his own delight from ever reaching her eyes.
“You two doin’ fine?” Survivor questioned, pulling her sister up and flicking a piece of dirt from her right ear.
The purple slugcat also got up with the help of Monk, his partner, brushing the dust off him immediately, Monk patted some of the spots for him.
He looked at her with a raised brow, a look she could easily infer to be a playful spin on the typical ‘I can take care of myself’ he would usually use when Saint offered assistance.
“Yep,” Monk finally answered her sibling's question, pulling Spearmaster closer. “That was a pretty good show, no?”
Survivor had to nod, even if Monk could clearly tell she was sugarcoating it as to not make either of the dancers sad.
Monk waited, she knew Survivor would not be able to keep it to herself.
Three…
Two…
One…
“My favorite part was the finale, of course,” And there it was; like clockwork.
Spearmaster poked Monk and pointed at Survivor, his long ears flailing as he kept repeating his pointing motion.
‘Oh, right!’
“Wha’s it?” The white slugcat asked.
“The drone got everything?”
Survivor nodded, her face still showing signs of confusion.
“How do we watch it?” Monk asked, moving closer to the golden floating device.
“I-” She stuttered, covering her eyes with her arm. “I forgot to ask.” She finished with another awkward grin.
Monk, instead of showing disappointment or even happiness at the prospect of having their failure replayed, simply shrugged.
“Not like we really need it,” She joked, pointing to the marked grounds, where their motions and silhouettes had been painted by their motions.
She sighed.
Soon, those physical remnants of the moment would disappear, but until then, their colony would have the markings of that moment.
Perhaps she was dwelling too much in something that would soon be solved by Artificer.
But well, Artificer’s arrival was in the future, regardless if it happened in a minute or a cycle.
And Monk had grown fonder of the present, anyway.
“At least, not for now,” Monk finished, watching the ephemeral dust fly away.