Rain poured through the hole in the roof, quickly coating the floor of the cabin with slippery water. Pretty reacted first, yelping in surprise as she dove under the bed for cover. Norman was next, thanks to Savant snapping him out of his daze, and he scooted over to the wall furthest away from the giant hole in the roof. Pail and Rowboat didn’t seem to mind the water at all, probably due to their harsh lives as slaves. Pail spread his wings and did a strange little dance in a human version of a bird bath, making sure the cold water got between all of his feathers. Rowboat just kept eating, chuckling slightly at Pretty’s and Norman’s dramatics.

  “It’s just a little water! It isn’t gonna melt you!” The large woman bantered through a mouth full of mud. The rain soaked her hair and clothes, highlighting that she was, in fact, a woman. Norman hastily turned around for decency’s sake and fiddled awkwardly with his glasses. He didn’t know how to act around women outside of a professional setting, especially soaking wet ones not wearing a bra.

  “You might get sick.” Norman retorted weakly; the thought of such a large and buff woman getting sick from a little rain seemed absurd. “Pail, get over here.” He beckoned, strategically averting his eyes from Rowboat as he did. The half-giant was unlikely to get sick, but Pail was still just a little kid. Even if hybrids didn’t get colds for some reason, it was good to set an example.

  Pail shook his wings as quickly as he could to dry them off, showering everyone around him with even more water. After stretching his wings out for an inspection, he obediently sat down next to Norman, soaked to the bone. “Mister! The water feels real nice, ya know! You should try it!” Pail seemed to enjoy every situation he was in, even as his hair stuck to his face like a wet dog.

  Norman grumbled about not being fit to take care of a child and how it was just his luck that it started raining while he fished out the rag from his backpack. He fiddled clumsily with the ribbons tied in the boy’s hair while he continued to mutter under his breath. He was clearly irritated, but it was almost impossible to tell with his monotone voice and lack of expression. After getting the second ribbon off and untangling the soaked braids, he fluffed up the boy’s long hair with the rag the best he could, earning laughter from the boy and a tender look from the woman across the room.

  “How did I get here? Why am I taking care of a child in a shack in the woods? I am a businessman, a highly rated accountant, and a model member of society, not whatever this is.” He grumbled inwardly as he dried the boy’s hair. He didn’t know what he was meant to be doing ever since he came to this world, so he had just done whatever a model citizen would; he hadn’t expected to be stuck with a child and a wild animal.

  [YOU LIKE THEM. I CAN TELL.]

  “Do I? I feel like I am tolerating them, if anything. Just until I can leave them somewhere safe.” Norman responded to the constant voice in his head, which was supposedly his soulmate. The idea that he somehow enjoyed the constant chatter and yipping from his travel companions was preposterous. He didn’t even entertain the idea as he hung up Pail’s soaked-through clothes against the wall, wrapping his old suit jacket around the boy instead.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  [KEEP TELLING YOURSELF THAT, NORMAN. YOU’RE SOAKED TOO, YET YOU HAVEN’T EVEN NOTICED YET BECAUSE OF YOUR FUSSING OVER THE BOY.]

  Norman wanted to retort, but he really hadn’t noticed that he was dripping with water until Savant had pointed it out. Did he really care that much about this orphan he picked up? Wasn’t taking care of a child before taking care of yourself what a model citizen does? Come to think of it, why didn’t he just leave Pail in the village with Serena and her grandmother? Thinking about it made him feel dizzy, so he decided not to think about it at all.

  “Huh, so you really were a boy.” Rowboat pointed out in surprise as she watched Pail carve a piece of wood with the knife in his pocket. Pail’s technique was clumsy, and he almost cut himself a few times, but wood carving was something almost every boy sold into slavery had to learn, while the girls learned sewing. She heard it had something to do with resale value. “What are you carving?” She asked, scooting closer.

  “A little Pretty,” Pail mumbled in concentration as he clumsily shaped the vague shape of a fox head out of the wood. He almost cut his fingers off every time he’d carve away at the wood, making Norman’s heart rate spike at every near miss. “I got lotsa sticks and wood bits I got from the forest in my bag. I’m gonna make ‘em all into fun things.” Pail explained as he proudly patted the leather bag next to him, filled with all sorts of sticks, rocks, and trinkets he picked up on the walk here.

  The shack around them shook with the force of the rain outside, and the occasional lightning lit up the occupants' faces. Norman sang a strange monotone note whenever the lightning hit particularly close by, presumably the closest thing to a shriek he could make. He felt silly for being a grown man scared of storms, but he’d rather not be hit by strange magical lightning. There was nothing that indicated that the lightning was magic, but Norman had learned to always expect the worst in this world.

  [YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE SCARED. YOU ARE TOO SHORT TO BE STRUCK.]

  “I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. You sure do have your way with words.” Norman didn’t want to admit it, but Savant’s calm demeanor made him feel better. Their survival was directly linked to each other, so if Savant was fine enough to joke around, then he was probably safe.

  +1 STA

  Norman wasn’t in any mood to celebrate his increasing stamina, not when that stamina came from being pelted in the face by rain for an hour. This game-like system would probably be better used by someone young and full of life, not a stationery enthusiast in his thirties. What was a life-changing source of infinite power was little more than the health app he had on his phone. He would’ve actually preferred his health app, at least that tracked his steps.

  [YOU HAVE TAKEN 28,610 STEPS TODAY.]

  “I didn’t mean to imply that you aren’t helpful. I keep forgetting that you are listening to my inner monologues.” Norman apologized awkwardly; having someone read your thoughts 24/7 sure was exhausting. He was grateful at his lack of sexual attraction, as he imagined that other members of Savant’s species must have listened to a lot of things that shouldn’t be heard.

  [HMPH.]

  The word tsundere popped into his head for a moment, though he had no idea what it meant. If only this world had a dictionary… He was about to ask Savant about it, but his thoughts were cut off by the sensation of being doused in cold water.