"My heart belongs in the plains of Sacae."

Sue nodded along as she spoke, engrossed in what the cleric was telling her, but right at the start something caught her attention— 

The Earth Mother… 

Though the names of their deities are similar, Silque’s Earth Mother was a dragon… not like there weren’t any in Elibe, but there weren’t any that anyone really worshipped. 

It’s the opposite… almost all of Elibe’s dragons were purged. 

Sue quickly pushed that thought aside though, she didn’t want to interrupt Silque’s explanation… but it wasn’t very long before she saw the light fade from Silque’s eyes and her once bright smile formed a frown— 

That look didn’t suit her, she looked best when she was smiling… 

—and the tone in her voice shifted to something more solemn as she explained what Sue could only assume was a sort of downfall for the people of Valentina. 

But when Silque inquired about her people— asking if they had figured out a way to avoid succumbing to such greed, Sue didn’t have an answer. 

It is important to see the beauty in struggle, Silque knows. But with the lilting music resounding through the hall, struggle feels so out of place. Like nothing terrible could ever happen to anyone.

But terrible things do, don't they?

So as the dancers dance on, cheerful and unaware, Silque tries to salvage the conversation the only way she can think of: with earnest entreaty.

"I am sorry. You and your people are not to blame for the sins of your enemies. There is a saying in new Valentia — for whatever madness lay in the hearts of gods, a darkness deeper still beats wild in the hearts of men." The cleric nods solemnly. "That is why, I think, those of us who survive must remain virtuous above all else. So we do not wallow in that same ruin and bring it upon others."

Such is the meaning of keeping vigil, of refusing to succumb to complacency. To guard against the world, yes; but also against the flawed heart that beats within.

"…And as for my homeland," Silque smiles once more, eyes crinkling, "Oh, Sue, you don't need to worry, not at all! Though benevolent Mila and mighty Duma have been laid to rest, and our soil lies barren in their absence, we still have hope for the future." The cleric looks away, searching for a familiar figure in the crowd.

She points. "Look."

At the end of her hand is a beautiful young woman, red hair cascading past her shoulders in elegant waves. The white dress she wears is not quite as intricate as Sue's deel, but no less true to her heart for its simplicity. "That's my friend Celica — or Princess Celica now, haha!" Silque still isn't quite used to that, to tell the truth. "She and Sir Alm, her — her boyfriend," a giggle, "are the heroes who delivered Valentia from evil. With their strength and the final blessings from the gods, there's nothing we cannot accomplish. I'm sure of it."

And their friends — the Deliverance, the Pilgrimage, will help with all their heart. Silque among them, of course, in whatever small ways she can.

Sue had told and told herself that it was never her fault that her tribe was massacred, that there was nothing she could’ve done to foresee that tragedy, but it never worked. 

But when Silque said those words, as sympathetic and earnest as they were, it was like she could believe them. She could forget about the scars of that day, feel the invisible burns fade from her skin that plagued her every night, and bask in the cleric’s gentle light. 

Almost. 

But she couldn’t let herself ruin the atmosphere, Silque was smiling, pointing to a beautiful woman with vibrant orange hair as she explained that the woman was her dear friend, a princess, and someone’s beloved. 

Sue didn’t miss how her bright smile shifted into something more devious, however, as the cleric was now asking her if she had someone like her friend Celica had. A crush. A lover. Someone who she would spend the rest of her days with and give all of her heart to. 

The rather abrupt question sent heat rising to the plainswoman’s cheeks. There was no one she thought of that way… was there? She had never really considered the possibility before. 

Which, from Hugh's end? No surprise that he's been doing mercenary work, and him picking up odd jobs for the extra cash isn't strange from him at all. There's plenty of stories that he's sure he can fill the time with on their return trip, but what he notices first is the extremely narrow time they have to make it there.

"What do you think?" Hugh asks of Sue, taking a glance at a slip of paper that had been passed along to him. "Do you think we'd be able to ride back with myself and the statues?"

"If not," and he waves the piece of paper in his hand, "apparently there's a tunnel nearby. The guy back at the shop said it's direct, so we won't have to deal with any narrow pathways."

Hugh squints his eyes at the idea of dealing with those steep, dangerous pathways from their travel over. He's offered the decision to Sue, but his face tells that he's made up his mind already himself.

They had reunited at the ball, though a dance was rather short wasn’t it? Though by chatting with him on the trip to Faerghus, her assumption at the ball had proven right, he was here as a mercenary. 

The mage had recounted quite a few tales of his jobs after the war in Elibe had ended, while Sue had rarely shared anything in turn. She wasn’t the more sociable of the two anyway, Hugh had to do all the talking to procure the cargo they had to deliver back to the monastery. 

The cargo itself was just a bunch of tiny, yet heavy, statues of this land’s goddess— ones that needed to be delivered as fast as possible. Sue’s horse had no problems running through the land with both her and Hugh, but now, her horse is the only thing able to carry all these statues… they would definitely not be able to ride back with only one horse. 

“Absolutely not. My horse would collapse,” Sue quickly replied, shutting down that rather ambitious dream as fast as she could. 

Though, the way his eyes almost seemed to glimmer at the opportunity to take one of those rumored passageways the vendor had told them about made her believe he wanted to take them anyway, regardless of her choice. 

Naturally, the groundskeepers of Garreg Mach did not think so. An affront, a distraction from those fishing, a hazard for the animals - there are a number of complaints he has handed to him as his right hand is bound to this students left and he has to wonder - is something that would have happened without human intervention a bad thing?

He was not the only one who tossed along flowers, but he will readily take the blame for even those he does not recognize. When they get out to the pond, it's almost entirely covered over, gaps here and there allowing for the winter sun to reflect on the water.

If someone couldn't fish through this, he thinks they may need their qualifications revoked.

"...I don't want to damage the stems," he says; now realizing he's not even given his name. It will come with time. "Should we pick them by hand until we can't?"

…Hasn’t she said that before?

To those who can hear the voices of the world, the sight was a massacre. Each flower that had been cut from Mother Earth’s blessings was going to slowly die on its own, and yet people had purposely thrown them into the water, cutting their shortened lifespan even shorter, disrespecting the life they had and their impact on the world.

And for what? Discardment after they indulged the monastery’s sick social game?

Sue wasn’t one to feel intense anger, but… Father Sky and Mother Earth(and her future self) would have to forgive her this once. She could feel the way her hands clenched into fists– or at least tried to, because her left hand was attached to someone else’s. Someone who had taken part in this atrocity against Mother Earth.

She would not hate him, for this is a lesson that could be learned… ironic though, considering he was a professor, a role model for the future generation. Though after he spoke she felt herself loosen up a bit, considering said he didn’t want to hurt the flowers more.

“Sure… let’s hurry, every second counts,” Sue agreed, hastily kneeling down and scooping some flowers up in her free hand— tulips and hyacinths… huh, “This one’s gone… this one’s alive…”

Sue intently listened to each flower she rescued– if they were still alive, she placed them on her right. If they weren’t, she placed them to her left, towards this blue haired flower killer–

…did she ever catch this flower killer’s name…? Did she even want it…? She was more concerned of why he would take part in such an act rather than asking for his name.

“Why?” Sue asked, blurting her question out rather than thinking it over once she saw the stark difference in the size of the flower piles. Her green eyes met his in an instant, scanning his face for any sort of remorse for his actions, her soft voice growing uncharacteristically louder with each word said, “Why would you do such a terrible thing to these flowers…?!”

Thankfully, whatever misfortunes might have met them remained only in the realm of imagination. They finally reached their hunting ground: a forest that wrapped around the whole mountain. Tanya busied herself with preparing an impromptu campsite, laying down a burlap cloth for them to place any catches with. She then sat atop a nearby rock, grabbed her quiver and inspected the arrows. Any that seemed blunt, she began to sharpen using a whetstone. As she did these things, she once again looked toward her companion.

"You ever been hunting before, Sue?" Tanya asked, still working on her arrowheads, "How successful do you think this'll be? Because this doesn't look like the best season for a hunt…"

She turned her attention to the forest around them. It was not exactly snow-packed, but the patches of frozen white that lay between the trees surely did not bode well for their odds. This deep into the season, their prey would have been deep in that winter slumber they always fell into, with only the stragglers left awake for them to shoot at. With the amount of meat that had been requested of them, those leftovers would definitely not have been enough. Tanya sighed. A trail of smoke puffed out of her mouth.

"Orders are orders, I guess. Let's just hunt what we can. If you're ready to head out, we can start moving."

She pushed her palms against her thighs and rose. All around them, the forest remained still.

Not only was Fódlan’s housing much sturdier and more insulated than Sacae’s, but now a town ordered more meat in winter for a festival?! 

If Sue had ever suggested such a ludicrous idea to her grandfather, especially for something that wasn’t essential to the Kutolah’s survival, she would be severely scolded. 

Though, it was her duty now to take these missions… as impossible as they sounded. So she would do her best— even if they don’t catch much. As much as Sue had listened and listened to the sounds on the winds, she could hear no animals in the immediate radius. 

This… wasn’t looking good. 

Instead of seeking out popular shops with different chains and locations, Nyx prefers to be a patron to smaller stores, ones whose aesthetic are more personal and cozy. And the next cafe on her list happened to have quite a unique gimmick.

The chime on the door rings clear as the sound of claws and cat toys fill the air. Her movements freeze, brows furrowing at the site of the furry creatures who occupy the cafe.

So this is why the cafe is so popular.

Cats were one of the more tolerable animals, but the concept of random cat hair damaging the books had always dissuaded her from getting one. That and the constant presence of a battle field and enemy fire.

Yet the popularity of cats seemed to surpass Nyx's expectation, as the lack of seating began to alarm her. Though, like a gentle river to a weary traveler, a familiar head of green hair is a welcome site.

Ah, she is the one from the ball. Quite the calm one for a student. Maybe if it is her...

"Pardon me," she says, approaching the table, "I believe we met once before at the ball." She stops a few steps from the table, carefully studying her expression. "I hate to suggest this, but would you mind if I impose upon you once more?"

Sue didn’t expect to see anyone she knew, much less this woman, here at a place like… this. 

The first and last time they had met, the dark haired woman was seeking a quiet place to get away from all the noise of the ball, so Sue would have expected to run into this lady somewhere quiet. However, this cat cafe… was quite popular, and not to mention loud, with all of the customers fawning over all the felines all around the place. 

But Sue didn’t mind the request, in fact, she was quite touched that the woman approached her once again. 

“You may sit with me… I do not mind.” Sue replied, as she felt a small smile form on her face, “While you are here, feel free to order whatever you wish… it’s already covered.” 

“I rescued one of the cats… it was about to be trampled by a spooked horse…” Sue started to explain, remembering the save that was way too close for comfort, “I heard that this place was a sanctuary for cats to take shelter from the cold, so I brought it here.” 

a selection of headcanon questions inspired by key bones in the human body.

skull.   what memories/thoughts do they guard the most from others ?

cheekbone. what makes them smile ?

mandible / jawbone. what are they incapable of saying out loud ?

teeth. what lasting mark do they leave on others ?

hyoid / neck. who taught them to speak up, or stay silent ?

clavicle / collarbone. who/what do they lean on when they're vulnerable ?

scapula / shoulderblade. what burden do they carry on their back ?

sternum. what makes their heart pound hardest ?

ribcage. who/what are they trying to protect ?

humerus. do they use humour as a shield or a weapon ? what from/to ?

radius. who/what do they reach for first in a crisis ?

ulna. who stands by them no matter what ?

carpals. what small habits do they have ?

metacarpals. do they ask for help or clench their fists and bear it ?

phalanges. what is their relationship with touch ?

spine. when do they lose their backbone, what scares them ?

pelvis. what future or legacy are they afraid/excited to be responsible for ?

sacrum. what sacrifices have they made ?

coccyx / tailbone. what outdated beliefs do they still carry, if any ?

femur. what drives them forward ?

patella / kneecap. how compliant/obedient are they, who will they kneel for ?

tibia. who/what keeps them moving forward ?

fibula. do they ever feel overlooked ?

tarsals. what past mistakes stick with them with every step they take ?