#timexistsnow

Techno might have taken his retirement a little too hard. Not that he had gotten depressed or gone insane from the seclusion- no it was a little too late for that-, but perhaps he didn’t need to go so very secluded. Since the moment Phil left after helping him move, no one had come. No visitors, no assassins, no armies, no one.

It was strange, for something like this to be so easy. Maybe a little depressing. No one had stopped him. Don’t be mistaken, Techno didn’t want to have to fight his way out physically, but emotionally, nothing happened. Not that he could blame them.

Yet, here he was, in the tundra, alone. As he stared down at his notebook, Techno realized that he didn’t know what to write. There were no plans. There were no goals. Still, Techno had to do something, or he’d go even more insane. Already, the voices were demanding entertainment.

He could… give them blood. Not in the form of people or anything, but he could still make it work. The Nether always had something to fight. He had been working on his wither collection on the side, there was no better time than now to work on something so mindless. Blood it was.

His trek was short, but the swift transition from frigid to sweltering was a refresher. The pink of his ears turned red with the burn, he was always tempted to get a hat, but his crown wouldn’t work very well. What was a king without his crown.

After wandering around and taking random pathways, he came to a crimson forest. The biome always confused him, the huge pig abominations always made him feel uncomfortable. They were a reminder of how strange Techno was even to a place like the nether.

His ears, finally warmed, perked to a noise, a squeal likely from a piglin pup. He cringed at first but then a smile came to his face: Techno never liked orphans. If its parents were nearby, he could start his outing well. It was settled, time to make an orphan and then kill an orphan. Brutal, perhaps, but they were just mindless mobs and Techno was never squeamish.

Again, a squeal, this one followed by grunts of older piglins and a herd of footsteps. It would be a bloodbath.

There it was, a piglin pup… being chased. And the pup was bleeding and crying, but not for its mother in piglish like the normal ones did. This was just crying out. For anyone. The thing tripped on a shroom, falling to the nether wart ground. When a shield bashed into its snout, it didn’t get back up. The crying stopped.

“We have it, boys! The little thing will be a good subject for us, won’t you?” the villager pulled the piglet to his face, holding him by a hoof. They muzzled him, stopping the squealing. He wanted his momma and papa.

No, not again. Yes, they were mindless mobs, but Techno didn’t care at the moment, the pup needed help. The piglins- they would hurt them- they would take them and hide them away, change them into something horrific!

Sprinting what felt like a chasm of blocks, Techno pulled out his axe- he couldn’t risk the sweeping edge- and struck down each piglin until only the pup remained. They were beginning to wake up, and the tears resumed. Their eyes never opened but they could smell the blood on the axe, they thought it was their turn.

“No, no, little pup, I’m not here to hurt you,” Techno soothed the pup, sheathing his axe. With a closer look, the pup was in bad shape. They were bruised and their snout appeared to be broken with all of the blood and swelling. He… could leave it. But no, that would be wrong, even Techno had some common decency. There was no way that the pup would survive in this state in the Nether. They would have to come home, if just for the night.

The pup must have been exhausted as it only whimpered when Techno scooped it up into his arms. When they came to the portal, the pup finally came to its senses. Wretched squeals and sobs tore from their abused throat, they only cried more as blood seeped from the broken nose and onto Techno’s shirt. Techno couldn’t help but grimace, this wasn’t a good look, they probably through they were being taken away

from his straw shelter that his family had just built. He wanted home, he wanted to sleep in a nice pile of straw for the first time. He wanted his momma’s milk. But the men were dragging him further and further away. Techno couldn’t even squeal with his snout muzzled with rope. It burned against his fair skins, his soft fur tearing out.

and Techno couldn’t just let the piglin go because it would die and he could not let that happen. But it was because he should, as a decent person. So even with the crying, they had to go.

Stepping through the portal made Techno shiver, he always forgot the cold. The little bundle- oh, the little bundle definitely never even knew of the cold. They screamed out and Techno took off his cape, swaddling them up. It seemed to help a bit, little hoof-like hands snuck out the fuzzy mess to pet the red fabric. They were mesmerized by it, their little milky eyes wide in wonder, the crying reduced to sniffles. Techno smiled, at least he wasn’t the only one who appreciated his style.

He almost pulled out a pearl before thinking otherwise, the jolt might be too much for the pup. Don’t judge him for being cautious, he’d never cared for a baby, even less a piglin pup. How to begin the care, he still hadn’t worked out. Just do what you do for yourself, you’re both pigs, anyway. Techno shrugged, that seemed like better than nothing, and if the pup died, well at least he tried. That was all he could do in the end.

Once arriving at his cottage, Techno set them on the carpeted floor, still swaddled in his cloak. Luckily, he always had potions brewed, just in case (even though no one ever came), so he juggled a few healing over to their place on the blue carpet. The clunk startled the pup away from the red fabric, and they shimmied towards the door and then paused. Techno watched as they whimpered at their bare arms now exposed to the cool air of the cottage, they had left the cloak in their panic. Techno smiled and crouched down.

“You can keep this if you want- just for now. I’ve got more,” they shied away at the words, not moving from their spot. Oh, right, piglins don’t speak English. He repeated it in broken piglish, but even then, the pup just stared blankly. Instead, Techno slid his cloak across the floor. Once it touched the piglin pup’s hoof, they squealed hoarsely in joy, finally getting the message.

“There you go,” Techno reached back and unscrewed the cork and slid it to the pup, “Drink this.” A little hand unlatched from the cloak and poked the glass. Techno sighed and mimed drinking.

The crouch was wearing on him so Techno sat down cross-legged like the piglin. He might as well try to look as unthreatening as possible. When his knee bumped one of his potions, Techno debated how many he should give the pup. One would probably be enough, but with a busted snout, he wasn’t sure. Could they even drink a full one without getting sick? Techno cursed himself, he should have thought of that.

Attention going back to the pup, they were… dunking their hand in and sucking it off like honey. Okay, that wasn’t adorable, not at all. Techno was a tough anarchist, he would not be swayed by a child being stupid. At least the swelling was going down, the dark blue turning to a sickly yellow. It must not have been as bad as Techno originally thought, because it didn’t look like it needed setting.

But the blood, that was another story. They looked like they had never been groomed, definitely not bathed. Then again, there wasn’t any water to be bathed in when in the nether, but normal piglins always looked better than this. Why weren’t they groomed? Why were they cast out?

It didn’t matter now, the pup needed a clean, Techno told himself. He wasn’t even going to keep them for more than the night, there was no need for speculation. Even if he wanted to help them for a while, it would be wrong, they would lose their connection to the Nether and natural instincts for survival. At that point, he might as well put them out of their misery- no. Think of the now, not of the later.

Once the pup was done with their drink and had licked their hand… clean he scooped them up. They didn’t struggle much this time, simply snuggling down into the body heat Techno was emitting. Yeah, they definitely needed a shower, the Nether did them no favors.

With a bath running- only a few inches, keep it lukewarm (Phil used to tell Techno how to care for Tommy even if he never took care of Tommy himself) Techno undressed the pup from its ragged clothing and set them in the tub. At first, they sat still, the wetness clearly being a new sensation, but with a single tentative slap of the water, they were having fun. Techno chuckled at the childishness of the pup, he hadn’t seen something so innocent in a while. He’s not tearing up, it’s just… soft, unlike the sharp edges of L’manburg and axes and threats like he was used to.

But the pup needed bathing so there was no time for a crisis. It was an awkward process, the pup (now dubbed a girl) wasn’t the most compliant, she just wanted to play. For a minute he let her, but it got tiring and was late in the day. Techno had things to do.

After getting her freshened up and dried, he realized something: she had no clothes. The rags were still on the floor but that’s all they were: rags. The pup kicked at them, clearly having the same idea. Okay, something else it is. Going through the door of the bathroom and into his bedroom/library, Techno dug around in his chest of clothes. A bed shirt, that could do. Oh, and if he used a small sash he could tie it to be a dress, yes. The pup let him assemble her outfit, more interested in the new softness.

Techno studied his work, tapping his hoof. It was quite temporary but tomorrow he could go to the village and get some baby villager’s clothes. Another noise joined his thoughts, slightly offbeat to his tapping. The pup was tapping her hoof along him, her brow scrunched up in concentration. When he hummed a laugh at her, she shrank away, grabbing up the cloak and covering herself with it again. Oh.

The villagers laughed at his feeble attempts at wiggling out of their grasps, they poked at his fragile skin with their sticks. When the whimpering started, their laughs only became bellows. “It’s a funny little piggy isn’t it?”

Shaking his head, Techno knew he had to speed things along or the day would never end. “Okay, pup, I bet you want some food, don’t you?” The pup perked up, eyes going wide and expectant, huh, that was… strange.

His table only ever had one chair, not bothering to take up any more space than what was needed, so the pup sat and Techno stood. Food, food was a thing all creatures ate… what did piglins eat? Pig, of course, think pig. All pigs liked potatoes and carrots, and look at that, Techno was the potato guy. He didn’t have many, most of them were left at the ravine in Pogtopia, but for today, she’d be fine.

Putting a potato in his smoker, he took a moment to study the piglin pup. Again, why? It just didn’t make sense. The pup only stared back, her fidgeting getting more and more intense. He should probably stop. But the question burned into his mind-

“Stop!” she squealed. Now Techno stared, blinked- “Stop!”

The smoker beeped, and Techno jerked around. One breath in, another out. Just get the food, figure it out later. When he peaked back, the pup looked… smug. Piglins don’t do any of that. They get angry, they growl, they definitely don’t speak English and look smug. Perhaps, that would explain some of her treatment.

He pondered this as he plated her food and slid it across the table to the pup. When the pondering switched back to staring, she shrunk down again, eyes going between the potato and Techno’s gaze. “You can eat, I-” Techno wanted to ask so many questions, but, “I’ll… stop.”

She nodded and munched into the potato. Techno adverted his gaze, feeling awkward. His stomach grumbled to the sound of her eating. Instead of going for potatoes, Techno pulled out his golden carrots, setting a few on the table. At the sound of the clunk, the pup oinked around a mouthful. One of her hands released the potato and made grabby hands at the carrot. Oh, gold of course. But, then she would want more, Techno reasoned.

Another oink, sounding more like a piglet than a fierce piglin pup. Techno sighed and scratched through the fur at the back of his head: she was really cute. Damnit. He didn’t even need the voices to know that.

Oink, oink.

“Okay, fine, finish the potato and I’ll give you one,” he caved. She was just so… precious. Techno let out a whimper, she was smiling again, with that stupid smug look.

She began her munching again, all hesitance gone. Techno joined her, snacking on his carrots, making sure to leave one on the table. The carrots were alright, the taste never mattered as much as the fact that he was putting something in his body. At least the shiny-ness entertained the piglin once she got her chubby hands on it.

The cronch cronch of the carrots was the soundtrack to Techno’s spiraling thoughts. Why was she intelligent? Clearly not as in super-genius, but mobs couldn’t pick up languages other than their own, it was part of their nature. The piglin pup wasn’t natural though, that Techno did know.

“What. Want?” she spoke up, her carrot gone. Techno would never get used to that.

Techno hummed at her, shaking his head, “Nothing.”

She- needed a name- mimicked him, shaking her head back. She pointed at him, “Want.”

Techno sighed and decided to indulge her, “You needed help so I did. Simple as that.”

A huff escaped her snout before she startled again, shrinking down and hunching her shoulders. “Sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I pulled you out of the Nether. Probably should have thought that through more.” Techno was a fool, the poor pup didn’t know what to do with herself. Techno didn’t know what to do with her.

Now it was silence. The weirdest standoff Techno had ever been in, with a child none the less. Thankfully, the pup broke first, yawning wide. Their little tusks poked out, they looked like they had just started coming through. Which meant this pup was very young. And needed naps. “Come on, I’ll put you to bed.”

“Beh-d,” she mouthed out, allowing Techno to pick her up and back to the library.

The blue sheeted bed was almost never used, still made from a few days ago. Techno didn’t like to sleep, and with a sleepy piglin in his arms reminding him of it, he was starting to feel the deprivation now. His yawn joined hers. He sat down and set her next to him by the pillow end.

Patting the bed, he explained, “This is a bed, you sleep on it.” She still looked a little confused and did a weird motion with her hands. It looked like an explosion, but Techno paid it no mind. If his knowledge was correct, baby piglins mostly slept in netherrack caves in groups, a bed would be a foreign experience. To show her he meant no harm, he lied down on his side, his back to the wall. She did the same, picking at the wool blanket she lied on. Techno smiled and tucked her in.

“You,” she demanded, tugging at the blanket stuck under his body weight. Oh, she thought he was going to stay with her. Right as he was about to decline, another “You!” squealed out.

Techno sighed and considered his options. It would make more sense to stay with her, make sure she’s alright through the night. He didn’t want to sleep, but…

He slithered under the blanket, trying to not get amused at the smile that graced the pup. At least she wasn’t crying.

I had to add an extra chunk for the bathroom and dining room

that little nook with the log table is the dining room

the door to the right is to the bathroom

I took some liberties and decided that toilets were unnecessary

the area with the cauldron is the added foundation for the dining room/bathroom

Techno’s hands were ruined for the time being. A while back, maybe two hours ago, he had made the wise choice to wrap them but even that hadn't saved him from a day of hoeing. This was not what he had planned to do in retirement, becoming a farmer, but then again, he never really had a plan. The whole idea was to escape L’Manburg and their governmental control, so farming was close enough.

When he wiped the sweat from his brow he hissed. Even in a biome like this, he was still getting sunburnt. Later he would have to rub some magma cream on it. Either it soothed or burned, he would find out.

Tasha was lying by the fire, leg muscles destroyed from all of the crouching. Techno grumbled, he could relate.

He helped her up, ignoring the tingling in his fingers. The bandages were useless by now and would infect his wounds if he didn’t change them. Just as he had with the potatoes, Techno switched had off of hoeing to planting, cacking his pants, hands, and fingernails in dirt. And Tasha… was not much better off.

Her already clumsy movement coupled with the unsteady ground led to many spills. She got the job done, but it wasn’t a very clean job.

Bath time.

He warmed the water in the fireplace and brought the buckets back upstairs. He needed a better system for bathing and water if this was to happen often. He did have a spare room now, the bathroom could go down by where the dining table used to reside. The purpose of the small cabin was to use every space, and the little alcove was just a place to put a tall bookshelf right now.

Techno… shelved that thought and helped Tasha into the bath. The few inches of water were already turning brown with the clumps of dirt falling from Tasha’s fur. The soap came out, lathered all over the pup. She scooped up a handful of bubbles, watched them pop, and shoved them into her mouth. “Gross.”

“No kidding,” Techno laughed. He couldn’t blame her, when he was a kid he had taken a bite out of the first bar of soap he had come across. And then the next. And the one after that. Okay, it took a while for Techno to figure out that the reason why soap tasted so bad was because it wasn't food. So what if he was dumb, sue him for being new to the world.

Techno… he needed to know, “Did you have fun?”

“Soap? No.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “The potatoes, Tasha.”

“Oh. With. You. Yes.” She averted her eyes, clapping bubbles into the air.

Techno watched the bubbles float around the room, his scrubs paused. “You don’t- We can stop next time. Tasha, you can always tell me if you get bored,” Tasha still didn’t bring her gaze back up to Techno, “I won’t get mad.”

She caught a bubble in a soapy hand and brought it to her face, blowing it off, “Together. Make. Worth. It.”

Techno- he supposed that made sense. He just didn’t think that Tasha would have the same idea. His scrubs resumed, focused on her fingers. The other hand continued to play with the bubbles.

“Missed. Together. In. Nether.”

Swallowing, he tried to say lightly: “You had a together? I… assumed your family-”

“You. Killed. Family.” She said family like it had hurt her. Hmm, maybe not the best simile.

“Oh,” he said. Was he supposed to say sorry? He wasn’t, not even a tiny bit.

In the silence, Tasha chose to barrel on, “Me. Had. Friend,” she tugged on her ears and tusks, a piglin then. “Run. Around. Ride. Hoglin.” Her hands mined two pairs of legs scampering along the lip of the bath. “Miss. Them.”

That… was not good, “Do you want to go back and visit them?” How: he wasn’t sure, but for Tasha, he’d make do.

“Dead.” One of the hands fell off of the lip and into the water, splashing around.

Oh. “What was their na- their word?” There had to be a way to save the conversation. Neither of them needed to deal with all of this angst.

“Never. Told.” The clean hand was put into her mouth but she continued to talk around it, “Scared. Them,” a hand fell into the water, “Warned. Them. In…” she waved at Techno, “Speak.”

“You said something in English. Kiddo, that wasn’t your fault.”

She protested, hand falling, getting back up, and falling again and again. “Should. Known.”

Techno grabbed both of her hands, “No, Tasha, the piglins- they don’t deserve your time. You are so different from them, so much more,” she tried to wiggle her way out, so Techno switched gears, “It was just a mindless mob. Sure, for a moment it might have felt pain but not like you did-” Techno slammed his mouth shut, Tasha clearly being able to pick up what he was referring to and flinching away. He tried for a third time, “You are better than them.”

That was enough, Techno guessed, and Tasha wiped away the stray tear that had escaped. He helped her out and dried her off with a soft blue towel. When she stood awkwardly, he patted her on the head, “Try to not let it bog you down. You don’t want things like that to ruin your fun.”

He let her walk off and refilled the bath with clean water. He always figured that Tasha would have her own trauma, but he never got around how he would fix it. His methods were proven to be… lacking, at the very least.

Spending nowhere near as long as Tasha had, Techno scrubbed himself raw. He might be a pig but he did not like being dirty. With dirt. The blood of the people who had wronged him- he might be able to compromise.

Stepping out of the lukewarm water and into the frigid room, he grabbed the other towel on the rack and dried himself off. He didn’t have any clothes so he opened the door a crack and strained his arm to grab something out of the chest of clothes next to it. It was one of his less frilly white button-downs and a pair of thick pants. Techno was always tempted to get some thigh-high leather boots to complete his outfit, but his hoofs would never allow it.

Leaving the bathroom, Techno realized that in his vanity he had caused the chest to spill out. Tasha, who was seen wiping her snout and eyes in a hurry, sat down at the foot of the mess and started sifting through it. She ended up settling on some of his spare blue wool and fabric.

“Favorite. Color?” All of it was blue, so perhaps…

“No, I like pink.” He sat with her and studied the weight and feel of it. Thankfully it wasn’t all one shade but an array of hues ranging from baby to royal blue. From wool to cotton to silk, from thick yarn to thread, he had quite the collection.

Techno chose the yarn, digging further through the pile for some needles. He had a book hidden somewhere in his library, ah, there it was. The bounty was dropped down in between the two. Tasha flipped through the pages, letting out an oink at the pictures.

She stopped at the first set of instructions and did her best to replicate the hands displayed on the pages. Techno… had no idea what the book was talking about, even as he read the captions. Sewing, he could manage. Knitting? Making something out of almost nothing? Unless it was a war effort, it was far out of his grasp.

All Techno did from there on in an attempt to help her was getting her to a page that told of a simple child’s sweater. She patted his face and set off to work.

That left him to his own devices.

The pile of blue was tempting Techno. “I never planned on getting this much stuff in the beginning,” Tasha nodded absently, “Uh, I guess my… interest in fashion started back when I began fighting.” He ran a finger over his cloak, a staple he had taken from his first win in the Area. “When I would win, I got the first pick of the losers' loot- including their clothes. It was just supposed to be a gag, something stupid I could do to make fun of them, but the pile grew and I wasn’t doing anything with it.

“Throwing it all out felt wrong, like I wasn’t winning for a reason. Eventually, I figured out that I could take the things I liked about each piece and put them together into something decent.” The cloak was a cape an opponent had dropped and the fur came from someone dressed as a sheep. Strange, but look at him now.

Tasha was trying her best to pay attention, but her pace had crawled to almost a stop, so Techno let her work in peace.

Instead, he took out the dress he had taken for Tasha and started hacking at the seams. He had learned a trick where you trace the different pieces of cloth, improve the design, and cut new ones. Techno was relieved to be getting rid of the old villager clothing, and the dress wasn’t that pretty to start with, so Techno got to have some fun.

Out came the ink and light blue cotton, Techno added a waistline and some frills to the bottom edge. A couple of times, Techno stabbed himself with the needle, but he made sure to not get any blood on the new dress.

He must have spent hours on it, because when he looked up, Tasha was done with a sleeve. There were a few stitches that looked a little wonky, but, “That looks really good!” Tasha startled and smiled back at Techno. Her smile was a little lackluster, her eyes drooping. “Come on, it’s bedtime for us.” Techno didn’t bother with staying up, his eyes were starting to itch and the strain the farming had put him through made him almost weep at the thought of staying up any longer.

When he woke, the day started just as the last had, Tasha tucked against his side.

Gathering up his gear, the flower resting on his journal wasn’t abandoned any longer, Techno couldn’t bear to let himself lose it. Into the ender chest it went, filling up the last slot.

“More?” Tasha asked upon seeing him put the dandelion away.

Techno sighed and smiled, “Sure.”

“Get. More. Today.” she decided, nodding to herself.

They did need more wool if Techno wanted to keep making clothes, so, “Whatever you say.” A walk would be a good way to spend outside time without doing labor.

He grabbed his armor after a second of thought. There was a good chance that it was unnecessary, but not a one hundred percent chance.

The food was handed out, Tasha getting the last potato in the chest. Her carrot- Techno paused: did she need gold? He wasn’t planning on taking it away from her, don’t get him wrong, but she was progressively getting more and more aggressive with her chomping as the days went on. Maybe it would be a good idea to get her something more permanent. Something she couldn’t eat.

The first option was a crown- Techno scratched that off immediately, he had earned it. Perhaps a trinket or jewelry of some kind?

As Techno helped Tasha into a clean coat over her new dress (which she liked very much) and got her down the porch steps, he kept thinking it over.

“Techno. Okay?” Tasha pulled on his cloak. She was having to rush to keep up with Techno’s pace. He slowed, allowing her to match his strides with less of hers.

He ruffled the fur on her head, “Yeah, just thinking,” at another tug: “What do you like?”

Tasha grabbed a bundle of his cloak but stopped her tugging. “Techno. Snow. Yellow… Flower?” He supplied her with dandelion and she nodded. Hmm, those were pretty generic things- the voices started screaming at him in rage, appalled at the mere suggestion. Okay! Not generic. If they made Tasha happy, that was all he needed.

Techno… wasn’t used to such simple needs. As different as Tasha was, she was still just a child.

He wasn’t exactly feeling snow or potato, which left yellow flower. Yellow: that was convenient. A little gold dandelion. It could be a pendant on a necklace or bracelet. Techno looked down at her, she was stumbling through the snow, scanning the horizon for a flower patch.

“Up you go,” he warned, scooping her into his arms. After a moment, he put her on his shoulders. Her hands tugged on his ears like they were reigns on a horse.

The needles on the spruce trees were already imposing on Techno’s personal space, so when Tasha was added to his height, she got a mouthful of pine. She sputtered and Techno chewed on his lip, he would try to avoid the overhanging branches. Mostly.

A sharp tug and Techno was about to scold her, even more so when she tugged again. “There!” Tasha squealed. Oh, she was treating him like a horse, steering him to the right. He grumbled but followed her directions.

Through the forest they went, Techno still not knowing how Tasha could see. Of course, she did have the height advantage, but she was only a block tall, if that. Even combined, they weren’t impressive.

Or, just possibly, Techno realized, it could be the fact that he broke his glasses in the process of destroying L’Manburg. Huh. That… could be it.

“Stop! No. Step. On. Dandelion.” Techno halted, seeing a patch of yellow spread out around him. Yup, it was time to fix his glasses.

Tasha shimmied down from his shoulder once Techno crouched down low enough. Nearby, a baah echoed through the forest. “Tasha, find yourself a good flower, I’m going to find the sheep. I’ll be back, I promise.” Tasha scrambled back to Techno from the flower patch. Techno smiled, “Pinky promise, no one can break those,” he held out his finger and waited for Tasha.

A piggy finger wrapped itself around his.

Tasha turned back to the flowers. Techno wandered off.

There were only three sheep when Techno found them. They were hiding around some bushy fur trees and grazing on the exposed grass protected from the wind and snow. Trying not to startle them, Techno placed his ender chest a ways away from the three and brought out his lapis lazuli and iron. A second later and he had dye and shears.

Techno didn’t want to leave Tasha for long, so he only waited around enough for the sheep's wool to grow and be sheared three times each. The blue was a little conspicuous, Techo gnawed at his lip. As long as Tasha didn’t see him killing them, he figured.

He brandished his axe, one mighty swing taking out the first. Then the second. Then-

“Techno!”

Techno abandoned the last sheep and sprinted through the forest, Tasha coming into sight around the branches and trunks. She was- not fine, but alive. “What’s wrong, Tash?” he grabbed her up. She struggled, trying to get out of his grip, “Tash!”

A hiss.

Techno twisted around, shielding Tasha with his body. He held her tight and the explosion blasted snow and pine needles onto his back. His ears rang. After a moment of piercing silence, Techno rolled to his side, still curled around Tasha.

“Came. Back,” Tasha whispered.

Techno scooped her up. It was home time, their walk was over. “The pinky promise never fails.” She stayed in his arms, Techno didn’t want to risk another creeper or an arrow from a skeleton hiding in the foliage.

She shouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Techno shouldn’t have left her, actually.

But, still, piglins were supposed to be neutral with hostile and other neutral mobs. Hoglins were an exception, but creepers? Tasha should- Tasha was different. With it being so soon after Techno had insisted it, he should have listened to his own advice. Even Tasha looked a little… skeptical when he made the claim, he supposed.

They hurried- or rather, Techno hurried- over the roots and fallen tree branches. The forest thinned and the clearing their cabin resided in stuck out over the horizon. Up the stairs, and they were safe.

Tasha’s dress had picked up a bit of snow, so Tasha batted it off before entering. Both of them wiped their hoofs off on the rug and set themselves up at the table. The flower, Techno thought she had dropped it, was set in the middle.

Techno brought down Tasha’s knitting and his notebook and ink. When he came back downstairs, Tasha greeted him with a rumbling stomach. Out came her food: two carrots, as the potatoes were still growing. Just as he had expected, she gorged herself on them.

Into his notebook, Techno went. The page titled with Tasha’s Needs was in need of some updating. Food was checked off, they had finished the farm, all they had to do was regular maintenance and weeding. Clothes for Tasha were not yet completed, but he did want to add a new idea: ,i>matching/blue for Techno. Yes, it would add extra work, but imagine the absolute adorableness… or style that would seep from their very beings. A quick gold dandelion pendant was scratched in at the bottom, almost forgotten. He ignored the rest of the list.

Across the table, Tasha was getting through the second sleeve of the sweater. Her face was screwed up, tongue sticking out and flickering around her tusks.

Techno put a hand to his own tusks, an extra set growing out of his upper jaw. They had always been a point of embarrassment for him, clearly belonging to a feral wild pig rather than the preferred barnyard pig. People always looked between him and the pigs they had in pens, comparing the two and trying to find similarities. The tusks had been a saving grace in those scenarios, functioning as a barrier from him being mocked.

The two tusks poking out of Tasha’s mouth had come from her ancestors, though piglins now used crossbows and swords instead of tusks and hoofs for fighting.

Techno shifted in his seat, running a hand over his list and the matching/blue for Techno. They weren’t that different, he supposed.

Tasha was an innocent version of Techno.

Techno woke better than he had in weeks. That wasn’t to say his back was sore, he never slept curled on his side, used to passing out in a chair by his books. But, still, for once, he woke up naturally and not out of fear. Not out of necessity. The window behind him showed the sun nearly halfway up, oh, wow, he had slept for nearly ten hours. Techno stretched out, his hooves poking out of the woolen blanket.

A grumble escaped from under the blankets. Techno screeched internally, he forgot about the pup. She must be annoyed at the loss of warmth… Too bad, Techno had things to do. Poking her to make her move was a bad idea as it turned out: she bit at his fingers, or at least Techno found out once he threw the blanket away at the sharp pain in his poking hand. Once exposed, she glared at him and… didn’t let go. Ummm. Techno blinked and looked away. Sighing, he lifted his hand up until she was forced to release him.

“We’ve got things to do, sorry, kiddo,” Uh, kiddo, yeah, he definitely meant to say that. Shaking that off along with the blanket, he waited for the pup to scooch out of the bed before he followed. His cloak slithered out of the bed, falling to the floor. Letting out a squeal, the pup picked it up and fastened it around themselves, trailing like a wedding dress. Techno let her and got out a spare cloak of his own. The ladder was beginning to become a nuisance, being forced to carry her everywhere. But Techno still scooped the pup up once more and brought her back to the table.

Her snout was looking much better, but he still felt it necessary to top it off with one more potion. With this much time in between, she wouldn't get sick. He unscrewed the cork and handed it over. A hooved hand reached in- “Wait, no just drink it-” and it was too late, her chunky fingers were doused. Why? Why was she like this?

She grimaced at the taste this time- healing was supposed to be good, it’s glistering melon flavored, literally made of gold-, but her hand was licked clean and the bottle was replaced with a baked potato. She made a grabby hand at Techno, though, looking rather cross at him. Techno paused, a golden carrot halfway to his mouth. Techno rolled his eyes, “Come on, you had one yesterday!”

Grabby hands once more, Techno couldn’t resist it: he placed a carrot on the table, just out of her reach. That didn’t stop her as he had hoped, she scrambled out of her seat and onto the tabletop. Techno grabbed back the carrot, not amused.

“No,” he ground out.

Standing on the table, the pup squealed. He shook his head, it was his house, she needed to learn some manners.

The man held the potato just out of his reach. The rope snapped taut when he lunged forward desperately, wrenching his snout back. Now collapsed on the cobbled floor, Techno squealed, he was so hungry.

“You’ll get it after… I promise,” that seemed to calm her down, sliding off of the table and back into her seat. Techno was getting tired of standing. Well, it didn’t matter that much, she would be leaving… today, actually. As long as Techno got her real clothes- which meant going into the village- and didn’t dawdle.

They finished their breakfast and the pup got her carrot. Tragically, the taste of this gold didn’t seem to bother her. Fine, it was clothing time.

Getting her loaded onto Carl wasn’t as hard as Techno had imagined it to be, the pup whispered something like, “Skinny. Hoglin,” and grasped onto his mane. At the clank of Carl’s armor, she startled, one of her hands knocking against the diamond, “Bad.”

“It’s diamond?”

She nodded, “Bad.” Offering no more context, she went back to playing with Carl’s mane.

Techno wrapped one arm around her, securing her in place as he snapped Carl’s reins. He stayed under a trot, not wanting to risk the pup. Breathing in and out, in and out, Techno closed his eyes for a moment. He didn’t really have a personal vendetta against villagers, they just unsettled him, that’s all. No other reason to not have done many efforts in establishing trades.

“We’ll pay you back! Just give us the loan, man. It’s like any other trade. So what if it's a piglet, they all die in the end either way, natural or not!”

No. Not now.

Unmounting and helping the pup down to the snowy ground, Techno scanned for a family nearby. Villagers were usually nice, but it helped to find the right kind of villager first. There, an adult talking to a child, both wearing new winter gear. That would mean they had some spare, old clothing.

Techno set his shoulders and approached the pair. “Um… Hellooo,” wow, this was awkward, “Would you like to trade?”

The villager took it in stride, even as their child ran off, “Oh, don’t mind him, he just wanted to play, heh heh herm,” They laughed, paling at the sight of Techno’s axe. Techno’s lip curled, his cloak was blowing in the wind and he nudged it to show his sword as well. “What would you like to trade?”

“I need clothes for a child, her size,” He gestured to the pup clinging to his leg.

The villager showed his teeth, more of a grimace than a smile. Techno swore he heard something, “Oh, heavens, he has offspring,” but was waved forward before he could contemplate it. They were led to a chapel, close to where Techno had entered the village. Inside, there was a chest, similar to the one Techno had in his attic by his bed. “This is where we store our spear clothes, I’m sure something will fit. It is tradition to donate-,” The villager looked Techno up and down, “Actually, you shouldn’t worry about it. Please, help yourself. And leave.”

The pup stepped forward and leaned into the chest, pulling out different garments. She found a hat brimmed with wool and tugged it over her ears. It fit alright, a little tight. Her ears might be a little too squished, Techno thought, he would have to make a new one or adjust that one.

Peering over the piglin, he studied each garment that the pup discarded. Two coats, one pair of trousers, a dress, and a single mitten. All of those would fit decently. The dress was the only thing suitable for the Nether as it was the thinnest, but it wouldn’t be too bad of an idea to have spare. Techno nodded at his bounty, yeah, that seemed reasonable.

Right as they were about to leave, Techno spotted something. It was a little dropbox that read “Donations welcomed and expected,” oh, that was what the villager was going to tell him to do. He wasn’t required to give them anything, they should be thankful that he didn’t take the clothes right off of a child’s back. They did not deserve anything from him.

Techno stalked over to the box and wrenched it open. He stumbled back with the force, causing the pup to oink. She was looking over at him, nearly swamped by the pile of clothes she was carrying. “Gold?”

Techno sighed and looked down into the box, nope just a few emeralds and some iron nuggets. This was pitiful.

“No. I was just… looking.”

The piglin tried to peek in but wasn’t tall enough, “No. Take?”

Techno shook his head, he had more than enough at home and there wasn’t a reason to do this. Not a good one. “Let’s just go home. Get you dressed.”

Techno didn’t bother to wash the clothes, they smelled good enough. The newness of them seemed to satisfy the pup, not a single complaint about them being second hand. Then again, she loved the cloak and that wasn’t even hers.

Thankfully, the dress was close to her size. The light cyan of it didn’t exactly match the red cloak which bothered Techno a bit. He had cared about his clothes ever since he had started to wear them. And, style, duh.

Once she wiggled her way into the dress and the cloak was fastened around her shoulders- okay this was ridiculous, he needed to make the thing shorter. He… might do that. Only if he had time.

The clothes were packed into his chest of clothes and they went down the ladder into the common room. Edward the enderman vwooped from his boat by the fire, maybe he liked her outfit. That made one of them.

The pup tilted her head and jiggled the boat, making Edward gargle. Techno grabbed her hand, “Hey, leave him alone.”

“Why?” She reached back for the boat, “Bad.” He tugged her back.

“Edward did nothing, he’s a good guy.”

“Good?” she looked baffled.

“Yeah, not all hostile mobs are inherently bad.” And not all peaceful mobs are inherently good. “Edwards vibin’, let him be.”

“V- Vibin’? What?”

Techno shrugged, leaning back against the wall door. “Vibing is like relaxing. Or feeling good. Vibin’s a good thing.”

She hummed back and waved at Edward, not making eye contact, “Edward. Vibin’. Good.” Edward vwooped at her, happy purple particles seeping from his being. His block was still with him, grasped in spindly fingers.

Thinking about it, “If Ranboo is half enderman, does he do the block thing as well?” The pup blinked at him, but Edward vwooped twice, maybe he was a cousin?

“Who. Rambo?”

“Ranboo, and he’s a guy who lives far away. Looks a little like Edward.”

The pup squealed, startling Techno and the enderman, something in piglish. It was the same thing that he had been called by the piglins before they were killed by his sword. She repeated it and added, “Ranboo. Me.” Did she know him?

“What?” Techno didn’t get it. The word was always said in anger when piglins charged. But it was also only said to people and not hoglins. They had called her it when they were hunting her. “Ohhh, you mean Ranboo and you are that?” Whatever that was.

She shook her head, “Say. Not. Understand.”

Techno’s brain hurted. He took a wild guess “They call you it but they aren’t correct?”

She did a little happy dance, hopping from hoof to hoof, “Ranboo. Enderman... First! Me,” she pulled at her ears and tusks, “First.”

She was a hybrid, of course! “You’re a half piglin, half human, aren't you?” He was getting it, finally. The word must be some kind of insult or slur for humans.

“No.”

Or not.

“Most. Piglin.”

“And the piglins didn’t like the other part.” He got it. Mostly. Probably.

She didn’t offer anything else. Just toddled around the room and climbed into her chair. Food time. Techno didn’t fight her on the carrot thing. He had other priorities.

According to her, she wasn’t a normal hybrid- half and half- like Fundy or Schlatt, more like Ranboo (who she somehow knew?), who was an Enderman primarily and something second. Hybrids like Ranboo and the pup were rare, as most intelligent people were somewhat human, why: he didn’t know. When looking at the server as a whole, that held true, only Ranboo, the pup, and Techno himself being the exceptions- as far as he knew. Techno was not a hybrid.

“We’ll make it into something cool, this time won’t we? That, or we’ll kill you on accident, but ‘tis the consequence of science!”

The pup interrupted his thoughts by poking him with her carrot. “You. Word. Like. Ranboo?” Did he have a word like Ranboo? A name?

He… never told her his name. Why was he like this… “Techno… just Techno.”

She mouthed it out and gave it a shot, “T- Teh, Teh-chno. Techno?”

“That’s it!” he smiled, “What’s your word?”

She quirked her head, “No,” and munched on her carrot. Techno blanched, he never asked her name and all this time she never even had a name. What? Who raised this kid… no one. Ah. “Is. Bad?”

“That you don’t have one: bad. But not you, you’re good.” His voice garbled at the end, making him wheeze and gasp. It’d been a while since he’s spoken with the voices.

She wasn’t fazed by it, finishing her carrot. “Give,” her hands went grabby at Techno, “Word.”

Oh, no, Techno wasn’t prepared to name her. Everyone knew that curse: name it and you can’t let it go. It would be- no he could get away with this. Just name her and put her straight through the portal, simple. He couldn’t leave her nameless, though, that would be pathetic.

Decision made, he pushed himself off of the wall and waved at her to follow him outside. In his haste, he forgot her size, so when she started down the front steps one at a time, he scooped her up. She patted his face in thanks.

“We’ll give you a name on the way back to the Nether, how’s that?” He didn’t bother getting Carl, he needed the extra time.

She pushed against his chest, getting a full view of his face. Her lip curled and she squealed, “No!”

“Did you not want a name? I thought you asked for one.” Yeah, he remembered correctly, she did ask.

“No. Nether,” she insisted. Oh. Well, they’d get there either way, so:

“How about we focus on the name,” that succeeded in distracting her, the pushing ceased. Her little legs wrapped around his torso and her tusks dug into his chest. “Meridith, uh, Lucy, Willow. Maybe… Harriet or Kim?” At each suggestion, the tusks dug harder and harder into his shirt. Soon it would rip, if he didn’t hurry up. “Come on, give a guy some help.”

“Like. Techno.” Okay, that narrowed it down. Six letters? Ending in no? Starting with T… that was probably it.

“How about… Tasha? That’s a nice name, it ends with a vowel like mine, has a T, is short for a longer name…”

During his rambling, the pup had been mouthing out the word, tusks pushing less and less as she leaned back against his arms. Now in his face, she oinked, looking rather happy. “You wanna be Tasha?”

“Me. Word. Tasha!”

It was my, but still, “That’s good, little pup. Little Tasha.” Great. Now he was getting soft.

And now he had to be tough, as the portal was only a chunk away. Poor kid. This was going to be rough. “Tasha, it’s time to go home now.”

“No!”

Techno closed his eyes, “Tasha, please-”

“No! Bad. Place. Me,” she squealed out the piglish insult, “In. Nether!” Tasha smashed her spindly limbs against Techno, her eyes starting to water. “Me. Tasha. With. Techno!” She was full sobbing now.

And.

Techno was tearing up. No. No. he should be The Blade: ruthless and a killer. A piglin had no sway over him. But Tasha… He should never have named her! He was so stupid, crying over a stupid baby with a stupid name that he was stupid enough to give.

He blamed the voices. He blamed them for making him turn around. He blamed them for leaving the portal, piglin in hand. He blamed them for making him care so very much.

Techno- he couldn’t do this to the pup. Tasha would get mauled the moment he left her alone, the piglins would have no mercy. And her knowing that she could be free of the piglins, that she was once free of the piglins would make it so much worse. Techno was too far in, he couldn’t take it back, not after this.

But… still. He was a killer of orphans, Tasha didn’t exactly fit in his routine.

So as he walked them back home, to their home, he promised himself that he wouldn't be controlled over the voices. He promised himself, he promised Tasha that she was just staying a little longer, until someone else came that could care for her better.

He promised as he sat down in his library chair all tucked away in the attic. As Tasha snuggled down, her crying still not stopped. And as he shushed her and gave her a carrot to chew on: he won’t get any more attached. He can’t let himself get any more attached, not if he wants Tasha to live any better than she did in the Nether. No matter how good it was now, it could always get worse.

Techno rubbed her back, the sobs turning into soft whimpers. He slipped a book out from the shelf and opened it to a random page. It was the Art of War, something he’d read a thousand times cover to cover. Tasha didn’t turn around to read with him, but she listened and felt his voice rumble through his chest.

“You’ll be alright, Tasha,” he whispered, the pup already drifting off. Techno let his head fall back, making a clunk on the wooden chair. They’d be alright. As long as Techno kept his promise.

It was late, Techno could imagine without opening his eyes. The moon was high in the sky, maybe full, maybe close. If it were either, the snow would be glowing and the wind would be howling and sweeping the snow around like glitter.

Perhaps, Techno chuckled into his arms, he was in a poetic mood. A literary mood. Or, just maybe, the fact that he had been tossing ideas around in his head for the past couple of hours about the next part of his story would allude to his apparent mood.

It felt wrong to leave the story he had written for Tasha at only one part, unfinished and abandoned. Techno didn’t do things halfway. He did, on the other hand, not feel like moving from Tasha’s side and out into the cold and lonely expanse that was across the room to get his notebook.

So he’d have to remember all of this for later when he was ready to move. His memory was pretty good.

Right now, though, Techno kept his eyes softly closed. His back would be sore in the morning, all of the hunching he was doing almost made him want to move- almost.

Tasha had remained burrowed in the blankets, small on the mattress meant for one- or two. She deserved her rest, from getting stabbed to throwing up all in one afternoon. When tomorrow came, they’d have to work on her condition: clean her, rebandage her wound, and figure out the potion… situation. The hole in Tasha’s hand wasn’t gapping or anything, but it would still be a comfort to get some assistance from a potion.

Techno tossed that aside for the time being and drifted back to his writing.

The beast- Techno was unsure if he liked that metaphor or not- would need motivation for kidnapping the piglet-

Tasha stirred, a grumbled slipping through her lips. Techno lifted his head enough to peer at her over his forearm. She was tucked in to the bottom of her snout, just a pale rosy face in a blue bed. Now, however, the face was screwed up, milky eyes glowing in the moonlight through bleary blinks.

Techno brushed a hand over her forehead, fuzz catching on his calluses, “Go back to sleep, get some rest.” He hummed a melody he had heard Wilbur once sing, and Tasha’s eyes closed. He sighed, cutting himself off.

When the breath left his snout, Tasha jolted, face catching the moonlight. “Not. Want. To.” She studied Techno for a moment, “Should… Not?”

It was an obvious question, but Techno didn’t get why it was asked, “Who told you that, kiddo?”

The studious look again, “You,” Tasha whispered.

Techno drew back and tilted his head. Had he? No, “Well, if I did say something, I’m sure I didn’t mean it like that. I want you to get better as fast as you can.”

Tasha’s mouth opened in an oh, “Back. To. Fun?”

“Exactly.”

With the confusion dissipated, Tasha dropped herself back into the nest of wool, the arm she used to prop herself up snaking back out of the covers. Techno took it, and settled back down onto his forearm.

Or, until Tasha slithered her hand away and tossed and turned, making discomfort noises after each switch. Techno sluggishly raised his head again, squared his shoulders, and gruffed out: “Kiddo, sleep.”

She flopped to her side, facing Techno, “Take. To. Long.”

Techno embraced the darkness and grabbed his notebook from where it was leaning against the wall. He padded not too gently to his library chair, gathered up his ink, and once back to his seat on the floor, dipped his quill in the ink. “If you don’t sleep… then just sit quietly or something,” Techno did not have the social energy to talk baby to her.

Sit quietly she did, crisscross and hovering above the book, watching him scratch away at the paper, ink blotting and splashing when he jumped to a different line to annotate his writing. It was deep in the night, the beast, just as the piglet had hoped, was slumbering-

“What…” Tasha broke the silence, gesturing at… everything. Ah, she couldn’t read. Maybe it was time to fix that.

“This is the written form of English. It’s- It’s a little complicated, but I can show you the basics.” Techno flipped to a new page, but Tasha squealed and turned it back, running her finger along the first sentence. “That’s for the story I wrote for you.”

“Again… Make? Copy?” She struggled to find meaningful words. Techno frowned, as good at English she was, the language would still have to be taught.

“Do you mean rewrite, like write the same thing again?” he tried.

“Why. Rewrite? Not. Good?”

Firstly, “No, I’m writing the next part.” And after a pause and thought, “I suppose I could always make it better, but… with this I don’t need to, you know? It doesn’t matter that much.”

Tasha hummed at that, stared at what was a line or scribbles for her, and murmured, “Make. Me. Better.” She brushed her three fingers across the bandages on her left hand.

Taking her hand in his, Techno smoothed the bandages she had rustled and said back oh so softly, “Of course, anything for you.” He stilled, entranced by her stubby fingers and her wrapped palm.

Without slipping her hand out of his, Tasha crawled over the book and slid down into his lap. Techno smiled, yeah, anything for her.

A pup in his lap and an idea in his mind, Techno picked back up where he had left off, handwriting nearly illegible with how the page was sliding around. But Techno did nothing to fix it, his hand occupied with Tasha’s.

The night passed, the moon falling and the sun rising. Techno only knew this once he unstuck his face to the page, drool sliding down his cheek.

He had fallen asleep on the book, Tasha still curled up and a heater in his lap.

His hand was sweaty after letting go of hers, and he carried her to the dining room. Techno gnawed at his lip, wondering if it was a good idea for her to be so close to him with her mild fever. It wasn’t quite to a temperature of concern, so Techno, with Tasha pressing her snout into his chest, figured she’d be fine.

The creak of the chest didn’t awaken Tasha, but the smell of gold did. She snorted and twisted around to grabby hand at the carrots. Down in the Pig Throne she was lowered, two carrots slid across the table to her frantic hand. “Relax, kiddo,” he chuckled, observing as the piglin in her cronched down on one carrot and admired the other. “We really need to harvest the potatoes before you eat everything in the pantry.”

Speaking of the potatoes, there were nails hidden in the snow, waiting like a bear trap. It was inevitable that someone would hurt themselves. Or hurt themselves more, Techno thought, taking Tasha’s hand from across the table and unwrapping it.

The wound hadn't quite scabbed over yet, he sighed. Throwing up the last potion must have nullified any of its effects, only stopping the bleeding instead of sealing the wound.

“Bad?” Tasha asked, wiping her mouth off with the back of her hand.

“No,” Techno shrugged, “Just not preferable, I guess.” He left her hand unwrapped at the table and dug through his potion chests. Instant Health was… a bad idea, but there were other, while less preferable, options. Regeneration was slower, but: “I think we’ve got a solution, kiddo.”

She was apprehensive, eyeing the bottle with obvious distrust. When Techno reassured her it wasn’t the nasty potion, her hand was dunked. A second of contemplation, “Not. Nasty,” Tasha decided. The dunking continued and Techno took Tasha’s hand in his.

It was slow and a little nauseating to watch, but the puncture was scabbing over, her skin starting to weave itself back together. The healing was nowhere near done, of course, but that didn’t stop Techno from leaning over the table and ruffling Tasha’s fur.

New gauze was wrapped and Tasha was looking… not great, still a little pale, but not crying or dying, so that was an improvement.

The nails had to be gathered up, though, so outside time it was. They got dressed and Tasha banished herself to the ever-burning fire pit, watching from afar.

As Techno picked his way through the snow, nails started to poke their way through the crunchy snow. One made its way known by being under Techno’s foot, but his tough hoof stopped another incident from occurring.

Thinking back to the early morning, Techno mused, “What’s got you so interested in writing, Tasha?”

“You… Make. Up. Story.” It was a statement, but Techno could tell she wanted to say more. He took a guess:

“Thinking about writing your own? Being an author?” He joked. Turning back around after picking out another nail, he watched Tasha glare into the fire, hands groping at the warmth.

“Maybe…” gears clearly turning, but she trailed off, switching subjects, “What. About. Not. Made. Up?”

Techno shook his head, “Boring, too personal, and I don’t think you’d exactly find it… amusing or entertaining.”

Tasha blinked at the voice, picking the conversation back up. “Techno. Boring?” she gasped comically.

Snorting, Techno scoffed, “What! Never, everyone else is just lame.”

“Who. Everyone?”

Techno hummed absently shrugging and continuing to pick up nails. When the last one was found- at least as far as Techno could tell, he put a torch down just in case- he meandered to Tasha and the fire, snow turning to slush turning to grass. Tasha repeated the question, then hesitated, whispering “Bad?”

Flopping himself down to the grass next to Tasha, their backs to the house, Techno groped for an answer, “No- They are- were just-” he breathed in and tried again, “Yes and no, Tasha. My time with them was… mixed… good and bad and worse.”

“Tell. Good.”

Huh. That was… a solution, perhaps. And Tasha was rather convincing, but it’s not like he had any good stories to tell-

“Please.”

In and out, Techno breathed, and picked out a moment that he cherished? missed? regretted because of later situations that unfolded? Either way: “This guy- called himself a Big Man- who I used to… work for- well, no really, but he hired me- was kinda, no, really stupid. And annoying to the ends of the world, Tasha, believe me. So one day, he and this other guy named Wilbur- uhh, he’s dead now. Not by my fault!,” Techno rushed, gauging Tasha’s reaction as captivated but not accusing, “get in a fight, something silly, I was sure.

“It goes on for a while- all unimportant, don’t worry the comedy is coming soon- and the idiot, in his rage, builds himself a tiny room and decorates it with the blocks he stole from Wil.”

Techno leaning in close to Tasha like he was conspiring. Tasha oinked in glee. “The blocks, though, they were pistons and red stone blocks, smooshed him right to the floor.” He used his hands to mimic the arm coming down and pressing his hand flap into the grass, Tasha gasping. “He wasn’t harmed, physically at least, but he was stuck! Right in a trap of his own making! And he couldn’t get out!

“There was this other kid, an absolute gremlin, named Tubbo, you might’ve liked him.” Tasha nodded, mouthing the name. “Tubbo was the sweetest and best friends with the Big Man himself. Instead of helping him out though, he tried to drown him! Right in front of us: put down a water bucket and cackled, ‘Now he can’t breathe!’” He did his best impression of the absolute masterpiece that Tubbo said. Tasha giggled, holding a hand over her mouth to contain her snorts.

Techno wheezed alongside her at the memory, he could still hear Tommy’s astonished screeches.

Through snorts, Tasha asked, “Meet. Them?”

Techno tossed the idea around for only a second, “Probably never, if I can help it. Like I said: good and bad and worse.”

The mood sombered.

Tasha mumbled, “Take. Techno? From. Me?”

“No, Tasha,” Techno sputtered, “They couldn’t take me from you. I’m not in their good graces anymore, so they wouldn’t even try to talk to me.” They were really not in his good graces. And Tommy was exiled, as far as Techno knew, so he might not even be heard from again.

When Tasha stayed mute, Techno stuck out his pinky. Tasha lit up at that whispering, “Promise?”

“That’s what the pinky means. You can’t break those.”

They linked fingers and Techno pulled Tasha in for a hug. She sniffled into his shirt, white ruffles brushing the top of her head.

Techno used one of his hands to snuggle her closer. The other reached to left for a snowball and dumped it ceremoniously onto Tasha’s head. She squealed but ended it with a smile, reaching for her own snowball. Her injured hand stayed tucked against her coat, slowing her down, but she made up for it by scrambling away from another one of Techno’s snowballs.

Her small stature was an advantage, the warrior in him grumbled, but Techno had fought foes of all sizes. Grabbing a handful of snow, Techno didn’t pack this one, instead throwing it like sand. When it made Tasha stumble and drop her snowball, Techno let out his war cry and lightly pelted her with snowballs. “That’s the tactic that won me my crown!” he ended his volley with a cackle.

From the pile of loose snow, Tasha squealed “Pig! In! Crown!” with an audible smile.

“I’m the best pig in a crown there is!”

Tasha brushed herself off and glared up at him, “Only. One?”

Techno scooped her up and slung her over his shoulder in response. A little fist banged at his back and hoofs got dangerously close to his snout. The oinking ruined whatever fight she was trying to pull, Techno smiled.

As Techno carried her back inside, her endless energy left, replaced by a floppy noodle of a pup. It was a perfect time to get a bath in.

Techno helped maneuver her so she was sitting on his shoulders, using his head as a support for her wobbly body. With his hands free, Techno warmed up water over the fire and brought the buckets up the ladder. It was tedious, but Tasha on his shoulders kept his mind occupied and entertained.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, it’ll be quite the tumble,” he warned. He set a bucket down to poke at her leg, jolting her to awareness.

Tasha yawned and leaned over his crown to get a look at his face, “Catch. Me.”

“Fair point,” but he continued to poke her leg whenever she wavered in her grasp of him.

Soon the bath was full enough for Tasha to bathe in. Techno helped her out of her pants and sweater, new but not the one Tasha had been knitting, that one still sitting unfinished on a shelf. He set her in the water and let her play with the bubbles.

“What do you find so interesting about the bubbles?”

Tasha popped one with a soft clap and showed a hand full to Techno, “Water. But. Float.”

Sighing, Techno nodded, “Yup, they definitely do that.”

“Nether. Bubbled. But. Hot.” she screwed up her face, “Burned.” Her arm was shoved into Techno’s personal space, and Techno lurched back in surprise-

Her arm was littered with burns. Techno ran a delicate finger along the expanse of the burns, ones from years to months old marring her otherwise smooth pink skin. Techno had always figured she would have old wounds and scars, but this was the first time he had really been shown them, the first time he had really looked. “Tasha-”

“No! Me… Silly. Made. Mistake,” she pulled her arm back and clapped more bubbles, “Have. Worse.”

Techno hesitated, she was just a pup, a child, a baby, but, “You’ll just have to stay away from burning things from now on.”

“Fire?”

“Oh,” Techno stuttered, “apart from that one. But my point still stands! No lava.”

Tasha nodded and blew bubbles into Techno’s face, he held in a sneeze at the tickling and grabbed the sponge. The water would grow cold soon.

Scolding himself for being negligent, Techno scrubbed away at the blood that stained Tasha’s skin. He should have bathed her earlier. An infection could have seeped into Tasha and Techno almost gave it the chance.

The scrubbing ceased once the dirt and blood had been scrubbed into grimy suds, the water now just barely turning a translucent brown.

Out came Tasha from the bath and a towel wrapped around her before the frigid air could hit. The bathroom was the furthest away from the central hearth in the kitchen, and Techno was beginning to regret his design of the cabin.

Techno would have to wash the clothes soon, he realized once Tasha was dressed in his last sleep shirt and shorts. He would also have to finish the growing project of sewing clothes for both of them. Techno’s batch hadn't even been started, he sighed at himself.

Tucking Tasha into the bed even though it was only mid-afternoon, Techno worried for a moment. Were pups her age supposed to have naps?

Or, more importantly, what was Tasha’s age?

The question was asked and Tasha blinked at him, “What. Year?” There weren’t seasons in the Nether, he grasped. No years. No ages. Just pups and adults. That ended his quest for knowledge just as suddenly as it had started.

Oh well.

Techno kissed her to sleep and drew the curtain closed. Tasha patted his face before he had the chance to draw away to the library, and Techno ruffled her fluff.