#soulfound

“C’mon buddy,” you try, motioning to the Soulfound clothes he was currently strangling the life out of. “The sooner you try them on, the sooner you can change back out of them.” Powder’s eye-sockets go ovular, squinting up at you with all the suspicion of a cat sniffing tenuously at a “not at all suspicious” treat sitting in a cat crate. Amused but exasperated, you pushed ‘Trust, Truth, Plea’ at him with your lips pursed. “Don’t look at me like that mister, I’m not gonna take anything, I’ve learned my lesson.”

Clearly still not trusting you what-so-ever, he nudged his shirt further behind him with his foot and motioned for you to turn around with his other hand – you rolled your eyes, put your hands up at either shoulder and complied. His clothes shuffled audibly, sweatpants landing on the counter with a barely audible thump and you found yourself rocking on your heels, eventually mumbling a bit. “Those are Soulfound clothes, you know?” Bone rattled, the timing almost like he was making conversation. “Like, supposedly they’ll change into clothing that you like, texture, style, even colour! ”

He rattles again, shuffling and scuffing his feet; your mouth fires off before you can catch up with it. “Monster magic is so neat, mostly because it gave me you…”

Bone clicked against the countertop, a short and sharp ‘rat-ta-tap’ and you peeked over your shoulder. Your Soulfound’s eyes have gone large and rippley and soft, his entire face flushed rich blue, but you find your own gaze drawn to how his SF clothes are beginning to change; with his current clothing preference in mind, you’d gone for the sweatpants and T-shirt combo, though Powder had been insistent on pointing at SF clothing that looked like a featureless hoodie.

Currently, Powder’s SF shirt had changed from a featureless white to black with white patterning that made it look like a simplified ribcage. Over top that, he wore a dark blue, unzipped and fur lined hoodie, the fur of the hood so thick that it seemed to wreathe his skull and shoulders in an almost comically fluffy way. His sweatpants have also turned black, with the cuffs of his pant-legs coloured white and his feet clothed by untied, baby pink sneakers. His eyes wrinkle eagerly, hands held out to the side – you peer curiously at the gloves he wore, staying a plain grey-white with black fingertips – in a clear ‘Tadaaaaa!’ sort of motion.

His eye-sockets wrinkled eagerly at you, so excited that you found yourself eagerly clapping. “Ahhh, you look so good!” He flushes his namesake, his shoulders doing a little shiver that causes the fur of his hood to fluff and increase in size. “Oh! Oh, that’s why you do that!”

His shoulder shake stops, the fur settling and you lean closer, lifting a hand. “That hoodie looks so soft, can I..?”

Powder’s arms lift up towards you, his chest rumbling with his happy grinding as your fingers carefully sweep down his hoodie – you bite back an eager coo at the way his face nudges into your hand, gently curving a finger around his skull so he can nip and nuzzle your fingertips more effectively. “Very cute, very soft,” Your hand drifts, creeps towards the discarded clothes. “Now can I-”

His teeth close in a sharper, more proper nibble as his eye opens his eye-socket to squint “aggressively” at you.

You sigh and resign yourself to having a somewhat stinky Soulfound.

Tuesday:

For the first two days, two days you’d had off from your work, your Soulfound had been incredibly sleepy, lethargic and almost lackadaisical at times – you hardly saw his sockets open for more than a few hours outside of yesterday when you’d had him try on all of the Soulfound clothing DeepC had given you. Most of his clothing tended to lean towards looser and softer fabrics, some of the shirts having gibberish writing (only to you apparently) that had made him burst into his silent, puffing laughter.

Now, however, it was time to go back to work.

It had taken a bit of bribing — your Soulfound was quite allergic to going outside — by offering to let him ride along in the hood of your own hoodie. He’s tucked down into the  hood — not fur lined, you’d playfully bemoaned, promising to get your own so that the both of you could match — and promptly dozed off the whole ride here.

“Alright buddy, we’re here!” You chirped brightly, Powder huffing a sleepy breath against your neck and lifting his skull to peer out the car window at the store. The curved edge of his nasal ridge tickled your skin, his teeth parting and clicking in quiet curiousity.

Your job as a personal shopper wasn’t much, and you mostly did it to give yourself something to do during the day – truthfully, you were very well off in the cash department, seeing as it turns out your family had relics of ancient monsterkind. They had been validated by several turtle and tortoise monsters and sold at prices that had made your eyes water.

Turning your car off, you hopped out and slung your bag over the shoulder opposite to where Powder was settled. “Bag shut?” He shifted, leaning over to peer, and then nudged his skull to your neck. “Alright! Just a reminder; nip me if you get overwhelmed, tap if you need food or water, and if you don’t want anyone touching you, just wave me down and I’ll get you out of there!” Powder leaned his entire body against you, and went still, presumably asleep once more.

Making sure your car was locked, you reached over your shoulder to pet your thumb across Powder’s skull and made your way inside.

You waved idly at your manager as you walked past, though you were almost immediately halted by his eager gasp.

“Oh, my, GOODNESS!”

Powder jolted, flinching against your neck and rattling quietly — you close your hand over him, his teeth gently nipping at your fingers.

Completely breaking his conversation with another manager, he almost immediately jogs over to you, his bright hazel eyes wide and excited and completely fixated on where Powder is currently trying to burrow through your neck to hide away. Gently rubbing your thumb over your Soulfound’s fur hood and the curve of his neck vertebrae, you smile at your manager with a pleased flush coming over your cheeks. “Heya, Ry-Ry!”

“Don’t you dare “Ry-Ry” me!” He hisses, reaching out to playfully swat at the shoulder opposite of your Soulfound — Powder’s claws dig sharply into your skin, his bone rattling becoming a little more aggressive, though your boss doesn’t notice as he continues his dramatics. “You didn’t tell me that you summoned this cutie! What’s their name? Have you met your Soulmate yet? ”

Leaning away from his grabby hands and shielding Powder from his inquiries with your hand, you continue towards the back. “First, his name is Powder Blue. Second, unfortunately no. And thirdly , in my defense, I just summoned him like, two days ago.” Ryan’s eyes thin and slant at you, one finger coming up to flick at your temple. Dodging his jabbing and poking and probably making Powder sway with your scrambling, you yelp, “And it’s literally my first day back!”

Ryan finally backs off, flapping his hand in your face. “Sure, suuuure. Where are you gonna keep him while you work?”

Powder answers this for you — tipping his weight backwards, your Soulfound slinking backwards off of your shoulder, and falling into the hood of your hoodie, shuffling around until he was comfortably situated.

You ignore the nearly inaudible squeal Ryan lets out, scooting into the back and into the breakroom.

When several of your coworkers, monster and human alike, spot your Soulfound, something tells you it’s going to be a long… long shift.

Well… you were correct.

As it turned out, in spite of his sleepy eyes and constant napping, Powder was a bit of a mischief maker.

When you’d made your way onto the work-floor, you found that all of his lethargy seemed to slide right off of him all at once — he was bright eyed and surprisingly social with your coworkers, flashing winks and finger guns and pantomiming some attempts at jokes. In spite of his rattling and grumbling at Ryan’s closeness, Powder was oddly eager to soak up the coos and fawning he’d gotten from your coworkers; all of you would later find out that this little cute act was a trap .

One coworker — a big, burly bear of a black man with an equally bear-like… well, bear Soulfound sitting on his shoulder — had been so enamoured by his large eyelights and charming smirk, that he had reached down to take his little, proffered hand.

You’d only seen it for a second, more focused on eyeing the increasingly annoyed looking Soulfound on his shoulder, but suddenly Powder’s eyelights flashed, became small and sharp and abruptly he jumped with a rather girlish squeal while Powder started up his puffing snickers.

Somehow your Soulfound had gotten his hands on a little squeaker toy, one that was so deafeningly loud that it had startled your coworker into yelping.

His bear Soulfound was not amused.

Glancing at where he was dozing in the front seat, you huffed and sat back in your seat, annoyed and amused and endeared all at once.

”Brat.”

His teeth twitched, eye-lights slitting open to wink lazily at you and then slide shut.

Wednesday:

Getting up in the morning has become significantly harder since you got around to summoning your Soulfound — not for any sort of emotional reason or anything.

Well…

Okay, correction; it wasn’t for any sort of negative emotional reason.

It was moreso that Powder was a lazy little fucker who was weirdly persuasive when he wanted to be, and he seemed to have figured out that, in the about 3 days since you’d first summoned him, that if he widened his eye sockets at you and made his little eyelights wobble and ripple juuuuuust right, you’d usually cave into whatever he’d demand of you.

(It also helped that he very, very rarely deployed this little tactic outside of begging for “5 more minutes”.)

You blink at the ceiling, your chest heavy and buzzing with a grating, grinding sound.

”You’re a brat.”

The grinding fades, the weight on your chest shifts, and Powder sits up until his eyesockets are just barely able to peek over the crest of your chest and chin.

Grinding louder — listen, you couldn’t call it purring, it wasn’t purring, it was too chalky and rough sounding, like… well, like bone on bone — Powder blinks slowly at you and curves his teeth up in a friendly little smirk and clicks his teeth at you.

You try for a scowl.

To reeeeally rub it in, he makes a point of squirming side to side, burrowing down into your cleavage and grinning smugly as he does so.

Your head falls back.

“You are such a brat.”

The “ire” in your voice sounds so fake, you huff a giggle, equal parts fond and maybe a little annoyed, one hand coming beneath his legs to steady him as you sit up. He releases a loud puff of air back at you when you do, though his eyelights have stayed wobbly and soft so you have a feeling he’s not too upset about being shifted around like this. Lifting him to your shoulder, you stagger out of bed and stretch — his phalanges twist in your hair to steady himself, his hand patting the side of your neck with an emphatic coo when you finish it off with a shiver.

You have the strangest feeling he’d have said something along the lines of “Ooh, big stretch.” if he could.

Chuckling at your imagined silliness, you offer your palm to your shoulder. He rejects it by gently digging his claws into your neck, settling down closer to the dip of your collarbones and nuzzling his skull against your skin. Huffing at his clinginess – fondly of course, he was quite sweet when you were in private – your hand drops and you start towards the bathroom, “C’mon buddy, we got half of today to ourselves, and I want to head into the monster district after work.”

His skull shifts against your throat, his claws pinching a little more and you wave a hand, using the opposing shoulder to gently bump the door open. “Oh stop it, I just want to look around and see if I can get any monster food for you.”

He clacks his bones a few times — with him still incapable of talking, you were finding that he still seemed to have a way of “speaking” to you even without him utilizing Intent.

Clicking his teeth, depending on the strength, seemed to mean anything from a friendly hello to a small “I’d like to be left alone” to even just a motion of acknowledgement akin to nodding your head at someone when they speak.

His bones rattling was a little harder to decipher and seemed to be used as more of an emphasizing motion, the same way one would wave their hands as they spoke.

This rattle seemed to be a noise of weary curiosity so, as you nudge him off of your shoulder and set him down on the countertop, you clarify, “DeepC says you haven’t been consuming my magic as much as you should be and I’m concerned, yknow?” Powder’s sockets click, ‘Sorry, Worry, Confused’ brushing across your Soul. You gently brushed him back with ‘Love, Okay, Pleased’ , sweeping your thumb over his cheek and softening your tone with Hope. “We figured that if I started getting you monster food, the active magic should help you!”

Powder’s teeth grind a small amount, eyelights flickering off to the side. He thinks for a long moment, one of his little hands holding your hand against his cheek before he bobs his head and grinds out a purr for you.

Smiling back at him, you kiss the top of his little skull and step back to start stripping your shirt.

Ever the gentleman, your Soulfound sits and leans forward with his elbows on his knees, the soft white of his openly roaming eye-lights hooded by his eye-sockets. You didn’t feel all too odd changing your clothes in front of your Soulfound – Powder was your Soul afterall, he’d more than likely seen everything at least once – and the first time you’d done so, he’d been very obvious in his appreciation of your form.

Crossing your arms in front of your boobs, you glare playfully down at him.

His grin crooks, twitching into a playful pout when you point aggressively at the faucet. “Those don’t work on me bud,” You huff, bopping his nasal ridge with your nail – humorously, his teeth part in mock affront, like a cat having been booped. “You need a bath dude; somehow you sweat more than I do, and I walk all day!”

His shoulders rise and lower in a dramatic sigh, tiny hands coming up in a motion of exaggerated surrender. When your hands don’t leave your breasts, your little Soulfound starts to strip with all the painstaking slowness of a toddler being forced into formal wear – lil brat even had the audacity to look over his shoulder and pout.

Powder runs the edge of the cut up washcloth across his ribcage, tipping his skull towards the running shower to listen idly for his Originator’s Soul – their concern was open and honest and loud when they’d been expressing their concern for the state of his magic consumption, though now their Soul hummed with gentle content and joy as they washed.

He wasn’t entirely sure why he wasn’t consuming their magic as quickly as expected either; from what he intrinsically knew about his own magibiology, he should be well into being able to talk and use his unique magic at this point. He’d tried speaking several times, his pseudo-throat only emitting wordless squeaks and chirps and trills – Powder tolerated his Originator’s eager squealing the first time he’d chirped with nothing more than a blue skull and grumbly trills.

Dunking under the slowly dripping faucet, Powder drew the washcloth across the top of his skull and angled his sockets towards the ceiling.

He could feel himself consuming trace amounts of their magic whenever they were watching shows together, or when they allowed him to ride in their hoodie as they worked, so he wasn’t quite sure why it wasn’t enough. He wasn’t a large Soulfound by any means – that bear Soulfound at his Originator’s job was much larger than he was, and according to her Originator, had taken a full day to start speaking but the point was that she’d started speaking.

Powder sighs, presses his claws to his nasal ridge and shakes himself aggressively.

Thinking about it too hard would only give him a migraine, make him angry, and stress him out which he didn’t need right now.

The sweet-musky smell of vanilla and cedarwood made his face twitch and a grinding purr rumble up in his chest, his head tilting back towards the shower. With steam wafting up over the top of the curtain, he watched their shadow stretch and arch, hands obviously scratching through their hair with shampoo. Powder inhaled as he watched them, tipped his nasal ridge up into the air and breathed that sweet musk into his… well, not lungs. Chest?

Powder breathed in that pleasant, sweet scent, forcing himself to relax and continue washing his own body.

They would figure this out, both of them.

As he rinsed the remnants of Soulfound safe soap off of his skull, Powder fought back the anxious niggling in the back of his mind.

Sure, he wasn’t consuming his Originator’s passive magic as fast as he should have, he wasn’t getting any closer to speaking or using his unique magic, and maybe he was stressing about that…

But something told Powder to wait; all he needed to do was wait and sit back and this would ride itself out, he would be fine.

Peering around the monster-centric Farmer’s Market, you scuff your foot – well no, apparently monsters had gone for a more “all encompassing” title and simply called it “Market”. Not to be confused with a market, Market was a gorgeous stretch of the monster district, stalls and shops of all kinds lining the streets as Duplicates and Originals alike traversed the streetway. Some Dupes walked shoulder to shoulder with their fellow Dupe, those from the Fallen layer talking in harsh tones with their softer Shifted layer selves, some Famine monsters speaking in genial croons with their Fallen and Shifted selves.

It wasn’t lost on you that you seemed to be the only human that walked the streets.

Your eyes skittered from shop to shop, flicking from a shop selling what looked like glowing rocks of all kinds to a shop selling what appeared to be just wooden planks decorated with specks of magical paint. Everything was so, so pretty, monsters of all shapes and sizes walking, slithering and floating along, chattering and laughing together.

Your mouth slipped into a smile when two monsters in stripes raced past you, chirping and laughing all the while.

Against your neck, hidden away beneath your hood and tucked beneath the curve of your chin, Powder seemed to be muffling his rattling by pressing his side against your skin and nibbling at your skin – your Soulfound really, really didn’t like it here.

Forcing your shoulders into a relaxed slump, and humming an idle tune, you started down the street. Keeping your eyes out for any stalls that looked especially like they sold food or consumable items of any kind, you did your best to weave through the crowd as inconspicuously as possible, steps light and as meandering as you could.

As you walked, you pretended not to see the way monsters immediately parted for you, Famine monsters unwilling to look your way, Shifted monsters offering you awkward smiles, Fallen monsters sneering and wrenching their otherselves out of your “path” – you made sure to weave out of their way before their poor selves could be yanked too badly.

Though… it seems that you wouldn’t get much of a choice when someone stepped into your path.

Slamming to a halt just before you could run into the mystery figure at full force, you scramble back with your hands flying up, one coming to make sure that Powder wouldn’t be thrown off as you yip, “Oh! Oh, I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying atte-”

“What is a human like you doing here?” Comes the snarling voice, your eyes landing on a tall and spindly, hare-like being outfitted in the aggressive blacks and reds of a Fallen monster. Tall ears angle fully forward, thick black fur spilling out of their tube top as one hand comes down to rest on their hip as jagged red eyes thinned down at you. You jealously curse Monster biology for making all of them heads and shoulders taller than humans, this particular hare being tall enough that you were certain that the top of your cranium would barely brush their chin.

In a breath, monsters around the both of you stopped moving entirely; feeling the beginning of an Encounter starting to fuzz around the edges of your senses, you quickly hold your palms out flat and smile small and relaxed while projecting merciful Intent. It jostles Powder on your shoulder, his feet slipping on your shirt before he catches himself on a lock of your hair.

“Hey, it’s, uh, it’s okay!” You chirp, keeping your smile as bright as you can without fully bearing your teeth at the crowd. “I’m friendly! Just poking my head in here and looking around, y’know?” The hare’s eyes thin further at your words, their fur bristling and several mean spirited sniggers make you flush and hunch.

“Uh huh.” They hiss coldly, shifting another threatening step closer. “Friendly” don’t mean much comin’ from you humans, now do it? “Looking around” can mean “looking for trouble” to some folks.”

Your smile wavers at the edges, leaks of fear slithering into your projected Intent. Around you, monsters shuffle, the tougher ones amid them eagerly leaning forward in reaction to your slip up. While monster attacks on humans were fairly rare, and even more rarely did they leave lasting injuries, those statistics came mainly from human owned districts.

Glancing around briefly, making eye contact with a few Famine monsters as you do, you take a deep breath and relax again.

When you turn back to the hare monster, ignoring the way Powder rattles in offense beneath your hood, you plead with them as earnestly as you can. “I know. I know that humans have caused monsters nothing but pain and I’m sorry, but it’s…” Swallowing back tears of frustration and your own agonizing feeling of inadequacy, you meet their eye and shove as much pleading and desperation and apologetic Intent into your words as you can muster. “Something is wrong with my Soulfound and I’m desperate to know what’s going on.”

Around you both, monsters shuffle and break into hushed murmurs, ‘Surprise, Disbelief, Suspicion’ filling the air as your peanut gallery begins to speak in The Ancient Tongue.

At your throat, clearly fed up with just listening, Powder pokes his skull out. Your hand comes up to curve around him as he peers at your surroundings and the speech turns to ‘Surprise, Delight, Awe’ when the watching monsters finally register the little body tucked into your hood.

The hare across from you pauses, tall ears flicking once, twice… and then they fall back, draping across the back of their head and across their shoulders like a black and red curtain of hair. Their shoulders drop from the offensive square they’d sported this entire time, red eyes relaxing into soft a soft rosy pink as the hum of a pending Encounter fades into nothing.

Running a paw over their fur, they exhale and squint sharply at you. “...go to Cinnaster.” They finally say, stepping aside and motioning aggressively down the street. Around you, monsters start wandering away in droves now that an Encounter won’t happen, Shifted and Famine monsters dragging away their disappointed Fallen brethren. You blink blankly at them, and get an annoyed sneer that reveals jagged fangs in place of the bucked teeth and flat molars you would have expected. “They’re my Shifted self and they’re knowledgeable on the matters of the Soul. If something’s truly wrong with your Found, they’ll be able to tell you.”

Relief.

Relief and joy floods your body so strongly that you know that your Soul starts to all but scream it – judging from the way the hare monster before you twitches and flusters, you would be correct.

Nonetheless, you breathe a soft “Thank you.” as earnestly as you can manage, Powder’s sleeve reaching across your cheek to carefully wipe at your eyes as tears begin to stream. Wrinkling their snout and snarling at you, the hare monster turns and marches away with all the hurried grace of a flustered, punk teenager being told that they did some good deed.

Rubbing a shaking thumb over Powder’s little bony hand and ignoring the adoring sounds of the vendors nearby, you start off down the street again.

Powder doesn’t like it here.

He doesn’t like the open staring from those monsters who smelled like dust and iron, the hostile sizing from the ones clad in black and spikes, even the wary stares and frowns of the normal ones.

A rattle starts up in his sternum when a dog monster’s eyes linger for a beat too long.

His Originator gently smoothes their thumb across his cheek, drawing his attention back to the street in front of them – stalls pass by, one by one, all of them selling clothing and little items, knickknacks and baubles.

No monster food.

“I should have asked where Cinnaster is,” they suddenly say, huffing a brief, self deprecating chuckle. “But that was really scary, you know. I was so… so freaked out! I couldn’t think of much more than just…” Their hands wave, miming a person fleeing – they both share a brief, terse chuckle when they make the “fleeing” person trip with a dramatic splat.

Powder nods along emphatically, clicking his teeth. Truthfully, he had some idea that they’d get confronted just for being here, but he just hadn’t expected it to be so abrupt nor so immediate. A confrontation from a Fallen wasn’t anything overly off, as far as he could tell from his Originator’s memories; Fallen monsters tended towards actions over words, their Intent expressed in what they did and how they moved versus words the same way some Shifted and Originals did.

Though, from the way his Originator had reacted, flinching into themselves and immediately projecting Mercy, they didn’t seem well versed in the Intention differences beyond the spoken variants. That monster hadn’t been itching for a Fight, though Powder wasn’t happy they’d been gearing up to pull his Originator into an Encounter either.

“You still with me, Blue?” Powder blinks several times to bring himself into the present, nudging his skull to the side of their jaw with a questioning click. Their finger comes up to prod at his belly region, speaking in a soft voice. “I see a food stall but…”

He sees it too. Ahead of them and just barely peeking from around the corner that seemed to lead out of Market and into the official monster Overground region, was the gaudiest stall he’d seen so far. It was glitzy and flashy and swarmed by Fallen monsters of all types, seemingly manned by an army of little, ember-like monsters that flickered and pulsed with shiny purple lights. Their main weariness seemed to come from the presence of a large, well…

Saying that the being was made of “fire” would suggest that it gave off light and warmth – the tall, masculine figure made of writhing black flames that was currently giggling manically and leaping from person to person was… well, his colour didn’t seem very warm, but then scorch marks he left with his hands did. He was wreathed by a furred, cropped coat, the edges of his black flames writhing and flashing purple, the rest of his body clad in what could only be described as some mish-mash of a showman’s uniform and a bartender’s outfit.

Glancing back down the street they just came from, Powder snaps around fully when he spots a somewhat familiar hare monster; they seemed to be talking to an aquatic monster of some kind, one whose head hovered a few inches off of their neck and flicked an esca before their narrow, down-turned eyes. On the monster's shoulder was a small human who seemed happy if somewhat dazed looking, currently being felt over by the hare’s long, curved claws.

He feels a little bad for how aggressively he nips at his Originator’s neck, though the way they perk up is definitely worth the hiss of pain he hears as he does so.

“Ow!” You yip, flinching at the feeling of your Soulfound’s teeth nipping closed on your jugular. When you turn towards him with the intention of scolding him – seriously, tapping you works just as well – you spot what he seems to have been getting your attention over.

A hare monster, both familiar and not, is currently waving away a sleek, slug-fish monster. Your eyes flick from their slumped ears to the little figure on the monster’s shoulder.

A mini human – a Soulfound.

You’re turning away from the scary, black fire showman’s stand and crossing the street before you can fully figure out what you’re going to say.

Stopping just a few feet away, you offer the monster a polite brush of Intent, painting on your best ‘please help me’ smile when they turn after a brief startle. Long ears flick up, perked fully and adding at least a foot more to their already ridiculous height, one clawed hand coming to their chest. “Oh!” They gasp, pausing for just a minute and then tilting their head in a mix of open curiosity and some mild hostility. “A human, in the monster district? Now how did tha-”

Powder chooses this moment to poke his head out and click his teeth at them in greeting, the hare monster’s mouth falling open – you can’t help but notice that, despite the first hare monster describing Cinnaster as their “Shifted self”, they seem to be a Fallen monster.

You hope this is Cinnaster.

Figuring the “jig” was up, you flip your hood back to let Powder be fully seen, throwing up awkward jazz hands and uttering a meek, “ Ta-daaaaa! ”

Cinnaster glances from Powder, to you, and then schools their open surprise into something more professional. “Well… by the Kings beards, and here I thought a monster with a human Soulfound was gonna be the weirdest thing I saw today.” Smiling towards you with what felt like practiced neutrality, they tilt their head back towards their stall; you don’t know how you’d managed to walk past it so easily earlier. Where the stalls around it were inviting shades of green and soft blue, their stall was accented by deep, bloody reds and royal purples. “Please, join me. I’m fascinated with today’s outcomes.”

The sheer amount of gratefulness that floods your body is so overwhelming that you actually sway on your feet, Powder patting frantically at your skin when your swaying becomes a little too sharp for his liking.

Staggering over your own two feet, you scramble to follow the hare back to their stall. Long, lapine (and spurred, now that you were looking) legs and feet allow them to eat up the distance, somewhat leaving you behind as they duck beneath the shiny curtain of beads and sleek fabric that covers the entrance to their stall. Glancing back behind yourself one last time, you quickly follow them into the dimmed space.

What greets you is the potent hum of magic – the walls lined with, what you have to assume are, magical artifacts and doodads, glowing plant-life and rocks that look almost malleable . You pause at a floating orb of… something viscous that hums a deep song at you, the low rattle of Powder’s bones being the only thing that keeps you from reaching out and touching.

Looking past it, you meet Cinnaster’s amused gaze where they’ve sat themselves down at a table, their eyes flicking from the viscous orb and then back to you. “Good idea, not touching it.” They chuckle, motioning for you to sit across from them. As you scramble over, their long legs cross at the knee, angled just enough so that their spurs don’t knock. “It would have blown up and left everything you owned stained in your Soul colour.”

Powder snaps his teeth a few times, the hare monster’s eyes flicking towards him with the sort of detached interest that one would watch a puppy yap at empty air.

Your hand comes up to shield your Soulfound — both from Cinnaster and from him.

Flicking their eyes back to you, Cinnaster’s face slips into that practiced smile once more. “Now, you said your Soulfound was having issues?”

“Ye-yeah… According to a monster friend of mine, he’s not consuming my magic nearly as fast as he should be!” Cinnaster’s eyebrows raise, sharp red eyes snapping to Powder and then back to you. “I’ve had Powder for two-three days now? And he’s still not speaking, still hasn’t used any magic, and… he’s not a big Soulfound, y’know? So I’m not sure why he’s not…”

Cinnaster’s eyes widen when yours start to water, your chest aching with a sense of inadequacy, Powder leaning over your collarbones to trill and click at you as he furiously dabbed at your waterline with his sleeve. Sniffling and huffing pathetically, you flash the monster a quick ‘Sorry, Embarrassed, Sad’ as you scrub at your own face as well.

Uncrossing their legs, the hare monster hums and reaches into the space over their hip, procuring a handkerchief from… somewhere on their person. When your fingers brush, you’re somewhat startled by the flash of ‘Soothe, Quiet, Safe’ that races up your arm from the contact point — your flinch in surprise, pulling back and Cinnaster raises an eyebrow. “Are you well, human?”

“Y-Yea! Yeah, I’m…” You rub the square against your cheek, mopping up whatever tears Powder had missed before you pause and then shake yourself briefly. “Sorry, uhm… thank you for the uh, handkerchief.”

They smile and nod, re-crossing their legs and leaning back in their seat. “Think nothing of it, the reaction is perfectly reasonable.” Cinnaster purrs, one taloned hand coming to their chin to tap and pull at the grey hairs there. Their red eyes flick from Powder, to your face, and then back, their ears shifting and flicking to rest behind their shoulders. “I have a theory, though I would have to hold your Soulfound. May I?

The question was very obviously not aimed at his Originator — it was aimed at him.

Powder’s hoodie fur bristles, his nasal ridge wrinkling ever so slightly as he leans back. The hare monster doesn’t lift their hands, nor do they extend any sort of coaxing Intent his way, instead shifting their gaze to look at his Originator with calm eyes. “I won’t harm your Soulfound, nor will I force him to come to me, but I understand that you are scared for him.”

His snarl vanishes, eyelights snapping to his Originator and then back, thin and annoyed and begrudgingly impressed.

Most open manipulation he’d ever seen, and he was mad that it was working.

Before they could reach up or even turn to look at him pleadingly, Powder slid down the front of their shirt, pushing off to land in an awkward stumble. Both monster and human jolt, though his human is the one that scolds him by flicking the side of his skull — he grins, flashing them a wink and then scowling at Cinnaster.

Their eyes flicked between him and his human, fur at their neck settling after another second or so. “Right, well… ahem,” His eyes snapped down to the paw they extended towards him. “Please come here, Powder. I need to touch you for a few seconds to get a read on your Soul fragment.”

“Go on, Blue.” His human whispers, gently touching their finger to his spine when he hesitates. His eyes flicker, carefully looking across their hesitant features and then flicking back to the hare monster.

His Originator's pride is loud when he edges forward, sinking his claws into the thick fluff covering the monster's palms.

“There we are, now…” The hare’s paws crackle with Green and Cyan, the alternating magical natures setting his teeth on edge. Within his core, his human’s Soul fragment reacts to the pulses by attempting to retreat to its point of origin, one of his hands leaving their paw to press over the persistent ache. “Ah.”

“Ah? What do you mean? Good or…”

Powder shudders at the feeling of probing Green magic, rattling anxiously and leaning back towards his human; their eyes are locked on Cinnaster, unblinkingly taking in the monster’s suddenly tense face, and bucked up ears. “Well, it would depend on how you personally feel about it,” They say, carefully peeling their paws out from beneath him — he immediately retreats to his human’s grasp, soothing himself by nibbling at the skin at their knuckles, their thumb pressing to his skull and rubbing anxiously. “I will say that your Soulfound is very healthy, and only appears as though he’s not consuming enough magic.”

Powder’s brow ridge furrows, his own mental question echoed out loud by his human. ““Appears?” What, like…”

Cinnaster’s eyes wrinkle in a dry, still terse grimace. “It would seem that the reason that your Soulfound doesn’t seem like he’s consuming enough magic is that your Soulmate is a Boss Monster.”

You feel Powder shift in your hand, though you can barely register anything beyond those two words;

“Boss Monster.”

A very specific subset of monsters that stood a league above the rest in terms of magical capabilities, the class of Boss Monster was not an easily acquired one; you’d heard that they were far more rare amidst the Fallen monsters, and the Famine monsters had seemingly done away with Boss monsters altogether, trading them in for a far, far more terrifying class  — Lethal Monsters.

You shuddered.

Boss Monsters didn’t exactly mean that they were more cruel necessarily, but you also weren’t 100% sure if Powder was a Famine, or Original monster yet and honestly, you don’t think you’d fare well with a Lethal Monster for a Soulmate.

Cinnaster continues on in spite of your stunned silence, lifting their paw away from Powder and tapping at the longer hairs at their chin. “I’m somewhat surprised the monster who helped you summon him in the first place didn’t realize it, seeing that your Soulfound is basically a magic well right now.” Your eyes flicker to the back of Powder's skull and then back, brows furrowed. “All that means is that he’s absorbing magic from anywhere and everywhere; he will be fine, you just need to feed him some more magically rich foods, you were on the right track initially.”

They push themselves up, walking to the back of their stall — feeling awkward and out of place, you hurry to stand with them too. Their ears have fallen back against their shoulders, falling in front of their body when they turn and hold out a weirdly shaped… pear? You think it was a pear at least.

It has pincers…

You… Don’t think this is a normal pear.

“Here, take this.” Powder shifts, a quick look down at the little guy showing him squinting between their outstretched paw and their face; Cinnaster huffs in amusement. “It’s a Lobster Pear, cousin to the Crab Apple. Most monsters don’t bother with these due to the weak amount of magic they contain, but for Soulfounds? This magic is the equivalent of consuming concentrated human magic straight from the source.”

Fingers clenching ever so slightly around Powder’s shoulders, your shoulders hunch. “Oh, I shouldn’t, well I mean, I don’t h-”

“Hush, human .” Cinnaster huffs as they plant the strange, elongated pear into your free hand, turning back to ruffle around the back of their stall as you blink owlishly. Finally, they make a noise and hold up a whole bag of the strange lobster looking fruit, they shove the bag into your arms. “Without this, your Soulfound won’t speak until the next Surfacing Day.”

Fingers curling around the fruit, you blink hard and sniffle.

As Cinnaster makes a small noise of discomfort, tears begin to bead your lash-line and track down your cheeks; in your hand, Powder makes a soft chirping sound and pushes himself further into your grasp in alarm. Squeezing and pulling your Soulfound to your chest, you force your Soul to project your gratefulness as loudly as you can, looking the hare monster in the eye. ”Thank you. Thank you, so so-“