fanfic make brian go buzz

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.

They settled into a routine of farming and sewing and knitting. Techno had decided that walks were a little dangerous. At least, enough that Tasha should never be left alone or out of his sight. He wasn’t afraid. Tasha just needed protecting.

Techno woke one day, the sun shining. Tasha was asleep on his chest, grumbling when he pulled back the curtains to observe the weather. The snow wasn’t exactly melting, but it wasn’t any worse than the day before.

Out they went to the cold. The farm was growing well, if not a little too well.

“Here’s the first rule of potato farming, Tasha: fighting is the best way to keep a farm.” Tasha blinked a few times in disbelief, she reached a hand for Techno’s sheathed axe. “No! I meant… metaphorically! The weeds need to be pulled out. It’s like a battle between the crops and the weeds and we’re fighting on the potatoes’ side.”

“Just. Weed,” Tasha rolled her eyes. Fine, Techno rolled his eyes back, he’d keep his massive intellect to himself. One day she would come to appreciate his brains.

She tiptoed through the sprouts and to a weed. Both of her hands wrapped around the middle of the plant and tugged. Techno, having done that mistake before, caught her when she launched backward. The weed snapped in two, the roots staying firmly embedded in the dirt.

“You have to pull from the roots down at the base. Here,” he guided her hands down, “grab firmly but make sure to stand steady.” Together, they pulled and out came the root. One weed down, two fields left.

Techno chose to fill the silence: “The first time I farmed a potato, it was… a year and a half ago? It didn’t feel that long ago, wow,” Techno scratched the back of his head, “I got a little carried away, I guess you could say.”

“War?” Tasha asked after huffing a few breathes.

He helped her with a stubborn weed and ruffled her fluff up, “Yeah! Just like that. I needed these books and well… potatoes and I have always had a special

“Hey, man, don’t mess with the poor thing too much, it might keel over on us!” A half-rotten potato was plonked in reach. The lead dug into his snout, but the feeling of anything in his stomach was enough for him to ignore the rope burns.

relationship, so it felt fitting to go a little wild.”

A hand was placed over his and Techno paused his weeding. “Special?” the owner of the hand whispered. Her voice gargled and cracked halfway through. Was she sick-

Techno had spoken with the voices again.

Tasha repeated the word with the gargles and cracks, “Hey, kiddo, don’t do that to your voice,” Techno scolded softly. He took her hand in his and let her form her next sentence.

After chewing on her lip, she whined, “You. Do. Voice.”

Techno sighed internally, she had a point, but: “So? I’m responsible for you, I’ve gotta keep you safe.”

“Me. Keep. Techno. Safe,” Tasha declared. Techno only chuckled in response.

Back to the dirt, they resumed. The snow was kept at bay with the lantern sitting above the water on a fence, but that didn’t stop the process from being frigid. Techno had weighed the pros and cons of farming in a tundra, but underground was never his forte. L’Manburg potatoes never tasted right, more bitter and small than the bounties from his first farm.

Of course, the potatoes in Hypixel were almost perfect. Sleep had been a secondary need behind farming and getting more materials to farm faster. That was a time of… not fun, but of purpose. At the time, all Techno needed was purpose.

Watching Tasha out of the corner of his eye, Techno shrugged. She was a purpose Techno could live for, could fight for, could die- Techno coughed at the force of the voices.

Enough monologuing.

Techno went back to watching Tasha and for a moment, his heart leaped into his throat. Tasha wasn’t there.

He leaped up and brandished his sword, spun around, and there she was. Sitting by the fire, fingers unfurled at the flames, Tasha was staring at Techno, unblinking.

Trying to play it off and calm his racing heart, Techno needed to think of a solution. A plan of attack. Not against Tasha. Against her running off or getting hurt when he wasn’t paying attention.

He surveyed the two farms and the land that surrounded them. With the fire tucked by the cabin, it was a nice setup. Everything was close together… and perfect for a fence. Or a wall, but that would be rather ugly and Techno was not a skilled enough builder to make it otherwise.

The pile of wood under the spruce tree out front was finally getting put to use. All of the logs made a little over a stack of dark oak fences. He figured that since there wasn’t enough wood for a gate, Carl’s pen would be good enough of a gate. It was almost completely made of gates either way.

“Help?” Tasha asked while peering over his shoulder. Techno was in the middle of the assembly. She did have a point, Techno supposed as he fumbled around with the nails, wood, and hammer.

He handed over the pile of nails, “I’ll tell you when I need one, just follow along with me.”

She toddled along with him and gave him a nail when he asked. Soon the fence was almost done. They were only a few blocks away from the wall that would finish it off.

Techno leaned back to see if he was making a straight line- he was- and Tasha squealed. Twisting around, Techno watched in slow motion as the nails slipped from her grasp and into the snow. He stared as she scrambled to stop them from falling, tumbling to the ground herself. She stared into the snow, on her hands and knees.

Another squeal, this one panicked.

“Hey, kiddo, don’t worry about it,” he soothed and helped her up. Or he tried to, but she squealed harder at the touch. “Okay! No touching!” Techno yanked his hand back to his chest.

He breathed deep, trying to get the hyperventilating Tasha to copy.

There was a smell. Of blood.

Tasha sobbed when Techno’s eyes grew wide in understanding. “Tash, talk to me, show me, please,” Techno tried. She trembled in the snow and looked down at her left hand. Techno leaned in, not touching.

A nail, point up, had slid its way through the meat of her hand in between her thumb and rightmost hoof-ish finger.

Techno held in a hiss, he didn’t want to panic Tasha any more. Instead, he instructed, “Try to keep your hand still but don’t tense up,” Tasha whined, “I know it hurts, kiddo, I promise you’ll be good as new soon.”

Moving slowly, Techno telegraphed his movements and cradled her hand in his. Ooh, this was going to hurt real bad. He wished he could scoop her up into his arms, but chose not to incase the scoop hurt her more.

He led her by the hand back into the cabin. The whole way, Tasha sobbed, growing more hysterical as each step crunched in the bloodied snow. By the time they had made it to the first floor, Techno was having to hold her hand still from the tremors racking her body.

He left her on the carpet and scrambled for potions and wrappings… would she need stitches? Techno hoped that for her sake Tasha didn’t.

Finally, he had gathered his first aid and dumped it next to Tasha.

“I need to touch you again, Tasha. Is that alright?” She didn’t respond. Techno gnawed at his lip, this was bad. Was she in shock?

Either way, the nail needed to be treated.

He tried the breathing again, huffing loudly to a rhythm as he grasped her hand. “Three, two, one,” he yanked out the nail quickly and pressed gauze into the hole left behind.

Tasha quieted… immediately. Huh. She leaned into Techno’s side and he used his free arm to pull her closer. He pressed his snout to the top of her head and continued the rhythmic breathing. The metallic odor of blood was still there, but Tasha smelled like his rose soap, only a little of her ash Nether scent lingering.

With Tasha collapsed into his side, Techno kept her propped up and worked on her hand.

Techno had made those nails today, including the now bloody nail, so she wouldn’t have to worry about tetanus. Still, there was a hole punched through Tasha’s hand… so some worry was reasonable.

The wound was wrapped and the bleeding was mostly stanched.

“Tasha, I need you to wake up.” Techno gave her a light shove. She whined, opened her eyes, and whimpered. “You’ll feel fine, kiddo, just drink this, okay?” A potion of healing was passed over to her. She held it with one hand- she only had one hand. Techno coughed and took it back, unscrewing the cap, “Here you go.”

Her uninjured hand dunked in and got sucked into her mouth. The taste must have been hideous, as Tasha gagged around her hoofed fingers. The sound of flapping ears filled Techno’s stunned silence, “No! Bad!”

Techno frowned, “Tasha, it’ll fix you right up.” He didn’t get it, it was gold. Tasha was just being a picky eater. The texture or something was probably off. He could have sworn he had done the recipe right.

When Tasha made no moves to continue, Techno rolled his eyes: there was always this trick, “Fine, I guess I’ll drink this delicious potion myself.” He raised it to his snout and just as he expected, Tasha squealed. “Oh, you want it now?”

“Give,” a pause, “Meanie.” Techno gasped, the hand not holding the potion coming up to shield his eyes from this atrocity. From under the hand, Techno listened to Tasha slurping and… gagging. Hmm, yeah. He’d need to work on that, whatever that was.

The potion bottle was eventually licked clean: ew. Techno shoved it into a stray chest, he’d either clean or throw it out later.

Tasha’s face was still tear-stained.

Techno chewed at his lip and tugged an ear, “Tasha… you wanna tell me what the freak out was? Cause I know it hurt but that was… horrible.”

“Sorry.” Tasha whispered, “Not. Meant. To.” She shuffled from hoof to hoof, eyes to the Pig Throne. “Not. Mean…. Think. Past. So. Hard.”

“You remembered something?”

Tasha tried out the word, “Remembered…” her voice trailed off, “Not. Matter.” A hesitant smile appeared on her face, and she turned back to Techno. “Back. To. Fun,” was her declaration.

Techno sighed in relief and smiled back, “That’s good.” But with a quick glance at her bandaged hand, “Fun is going to have to wait, though.” Tasha’s face dropped into something crushed, “You didn’t do anything wrong!” he hurried out, leaning in to cup her face in his hands, “We need to let that hand of yours rest for a little while.”

She leaned into his palms, eyes closing. Techno cooed at the sight. Little baby.

The moment broke apart when Tasha’s stomach grumbled. Techno’s joined in. “It’s food time, can you get up on your chair, or do you need help?” It was practically a high chair. Tasha attempted to clamber onto it but did a grabby hand at Techno when she slid back to the floor. “Okay, I gotcha.”

Up she went and into her Pig Throne.

Mid munch of a potato, she paused, her cheeks full. A finger raised up in a gimme a second motion, and she paled. The sheet white melded into slime green. Techno swallowed his carrot and scrambled for a bucket, getting it under her mouth just in time. Out came her lunch and breakfast.

As Tasha retched, Techno held her forehead up, stopping her from tipping into her own sick. “Let it all out, it’s okay,” Techno murmured. This was bad, to say the least.

One more retch and all of her bile was spat out. The smell was horrendous, but Techno still tried to get a good look at her, “Do you feel any better, kiddo?” Tasha whined and brought up a hand to wipe at her mouth. Techno grabbed her a napkin instead.

“Bad. Potion.” Her eyes were even more wrecked, bloodshot and teary. She was sweating, her fur plastered to her forehead. Techno pushed the bucket over to the other side of the table, waving the smell away.

“I hear you now, Tasha,” at least enough to know that they needed a solution if she hated the taste that bad. Her hand would need regular maintenance, especially as Healing was no longer an option.

When he reached out to scoop her, her bones turned to jelly, collapsing into his arms. Techno worried his lip and planted a soft kiss onto her forehead, murmuring, “You can sleep now, pup, I’ll take care of you.”

He undressed her and helped her into a downy blue shirt, one of his. It was oversized, but that would just add to the comfortableness, Techno mused. She didn’t snuggle into the sheets like she normally did, but Techno tucked the comforter around her nonetheless.

Techno grabbed a rag and soaked it in the water from the bath, laying it over Tasha’s forehead. He stood above her sleeping form, not quite waiting, but rather hoping.

A single tear slipped from his eye, down his cheek, and splashed onto the rag. Techno choked on a ragged gasp and stumbled back far enough to hit the door to the bathroom. His hand grasped wildly for the handle and when it opened, he collapsed into the room. The thud was mute to his ears.

His vision tunneled, the voices crescendoing back to life.

He should have listened to her when she first gagged. Forcing her to drink it was cruel, no matter his intentions. And even then, she should have never been holding the nails to begin with. Tasha’s a baby, a little pup, they never have coordination, not enough to catch- Techno forgot to tell her to not grab for falling sharps. It was basic safety, basic information that Techno should have shared. Unless he wanted her to get hurt, but he did not because he cared for Tasha, but his reckless actions pointed to otherwise, and Techno has always been a pig of fact, yet when something presents itself as simple as being a teacher to a child- and he had acted like a teacher for a bit- he can’t even do that. He promised to keep her safe.

And he failed.

Techno dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, stars bursting into his vision. But the blood that spilled from her hand still sloshed around in his brain, the scent of iron filled his snout, making him gag and yack onto the floor in between his knees.

The smell of his own vomit brought him back. Back to the bathroom, back to the door open to show their bed, back to a grabby hand reaching out to him, back to…

Tasha.

He shouldn’t- no, he could not drag himself back into the pit he had been fighting off for an hour, for a week, for a lifetime- he could not.

So picked himself off of the floor, stepped around the puddle of bile, and shut the door behind him.

“Sorry, Tasha,” he held her hand in his, sitting on the edge of the bed, “I had to wash my hands. You’re a little stinky right now,” he chuckled dryly.

A weak giggle murmured its way through the wool. Techno pulled the blanket back, revealing a bleary-eyed Tasha. He squeezed her hand and she pulled out of his. Techno mourned the loss, but when she gave his face a few pats, he gave a real smile. When she yawned Techno pulled the covers back up and slid off the bed and onto the floor. Tasha would get the bed tonight.

He sat onto the floor and rested his head on the mattress. His right arm became his pillow and his left hand was clasped around Tasha’s uncovered hand.

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.

When the sun breached the window by Tasha’s sleeping form, Techno bundled up his notebook and screwed the cap back onto his ink. He’d need to kill some more squids soon. Stepping around the creaks in the floorboards, Techno climbed in over Tasha and slipped under the covers.

His sleep was much easier, getting the words in his head onto paper had soothed his mind and the voices. His dreams were silent for once, his sleep not plagued by nightmares of his own doing. Instead, he drifted, the sounds of Tasha’s oink-snores a lullaby.

“Techno. Up. Time.” Tasha grumbled. With a bleary blink, he sighed, getting a nose full of piglin fluff. He held in a sneeze, not wanting to have to bathe Tasha so soon again. No one deserved to get sneezed on. “Free. Me.”

His arm was poked at and Tasha clacked her teeth together, she was going to bite him again. Bite the arm that was wrapped around Tasha like a vice, securing her to his front. Ah. He scooched back and released her so she could trot over to the chest of clothes. The dandelion was still resting on it, but Tasha cupped it with two hands and set it into Techno’s lap.

“Oh, I’ll have to water this soon, sorry about that. I didn’t mean to kill your flower.” Techno shrank down, the poor flower was wilting to the point of turning a pastel yellow. At least it wasn’t full of seeds so he didn’t need to worry too badly about it falling apart, but the sorry sight of it made Techno blush.

In the middle of pulling on a pair of villager pants, she shook her head, her ears slapping into her face, “Yours! Do. What. Want.”

He shrugged, got out of bed, and let the flower rest on his chair next to his notebook. Tasha’s oinked at the sight of the ink and quill, she knew what was up, “Not yet, okay? We’ve got a full day ahead of us and we don’t want to waste time.”

She glared up at him but turned around to get her coat. She would need a sweater, Techno thought. Red, maybe, or blue. He had a habit of decorating the house with blue accents. Hmmm, a possibility.

They set up for breakfast, Tasha in her Pig Throne and Techno pulling out the food. Just as he had predicted, they were running out of potatoes. With his list out on the table, Techno could see the scrawl of Tasha’s Needs. The first task on the list was to make a farm. Time to be the Potato King. Did that make Tasha the Potato Princes? Techno snickered and explained to Tasha through bites of carrot, “We’ll do the farm, you should be able to help some. I’m a kind of legend when it comes to potatoes, so try to keep up.” When Tasha shrugged, “I can see you mocking me.” Another shrug. Nerd.

After Techno had eaten his food and offered a carrot to Tasha, he sighed to himself at the mere hope that she wouldn't wrench it out of his hand. Giving her a look of disdain, they got up and outside.

Tasha was adamant at being put down, wiggling in Techno’s grip. He obliged, and she started to waddle her way through the snow, exposing a path of frozen grass in her wake. “You. Help?”

“Make a snowman? No, we’ve gotta make a farm, Tasha.”

“What. Me. Said.” She grumbled the piglin word. Nope.

“Hey, that’s bad language,” great, he was turning into BadBoyHalo. She repeated the word, her excavation paused. “That’s the one!” His face shuttered, “Don’t say it again.”

Tasha opened her mouth but at Techno’s expectant look, she closed it. And opened it again, “Mean. To. More. Than. Me?”

“Yeah, kiddo,”

“Oh. Thought. Was. Supposed. To. Say.” She twisted her fingers around themselves and pulled at her ears similar to how Techno would when he was nervous. “Do. Not. Like… Word.”

“Then don’t say it.”

Tasha looked flabbergasted at that like it was the first time she wasn’t forced to call herself… ah. The piglins weren’t nice to her. She oinked and went back to moving the snow.

“Whatcha doin’?”

“Me. Told.” She squealed, “Farm,” like it was obvious. Hmm, the area wasn’t ideal, being right next to the cabin. If someone saw the farm then it might ruin his image. But…

“Oh, thanks. I can put down some torches to make it faster. Unless you’re having fun?” Tasha nodded at fun, well, he should stop standing awkwardly. He pulled on his gloves- special make to fit his pig hands. Tasha was working bare-handed, but he didn’t have another pair, only the one mitten. She’d have to go inside to the warmth soon. Or, he could just place torches, but working alongside her was… nice.

Techno opted for making a snowball and rolling it along the grass, picking up snow as it went. Speaking of snowmen, “I’m gonna to show you a cool thing, okay?” Tasha peaked around her shoulder at him, tilting her head at Techno’s growing snowball. Waving her over, he instructed her on how to roll it. By then, it was too big for Tasha alone so Techno helped above her.

“The thing has two of these, so we don’t need to put too much effort into this one. I can tell it’s getting a bit much now.” Tasha was how he could tell, Techno having to put most of the muscle into it even as she pushed with all her might. It was nice to do something together, so Techno wanted her to be able to contribute.

The first done and the second on its way over to the first, the snowballs were about one block tall each: perfect. Techo told Tasha to back up and hefted the snow block onto the first one. It was more effort than he would like to believe. It was not because he was short. Everyone else on the server was far too tall. Plus, he’s a pig, so calling him short would be racist. The snow was just… heavy.

“Just. Tall. Snow?”

Techno snapped out his thoughts, the voices quieting their insults at Tasha’s question. “I’ll get a pumpkin, then you’ll see.” He jogged to the storage room and dug through a couple of chests. When he turned around, carved pumpkin in hand, he almost stepped on Tasha. She was shivering. “You should stay inside. Watch from the window, maybe.” The fire by Edward would warm her up.

She shook her head, ears whipping around. Okay, “I’ll- I’ll bring the fire outside?” Edward must have heard him, vwooping loudly, “Or, I’ll make a new one and put it by the farm.” He would just have to keep the snowman away from it.

Back to the chests, he went, rooting around for some coal, wood, and sticks. Finding them, Techno crafted a campfire. His flint and steel was already in his inventory, picked up back when he first planned to get wither skeleton skulls. That was only a few days ago, huh.

The fire was placed down first, lit so Tasha could get immediate relief from the bitter cold snow. She scuttled around it so she was on the opposite side to Techno and the half-built snowman.

Techno readied the pumpkin, “Prepare to be amazed.” In the blink of an eye, the snowman was alive. Tasha oinked, little hoofs stomping in a happy dance. The snowman glided towards her, snow dusting back to the ground. Techno figured that Tasha’s face was worth the extra work.

And then it wasn’t: Tasha stumbled to the ground as the snowman pelted her with snowballs. No: ice balls. Techno yelled out in terror. One last ice ball was volleyed, missing completely when Techno body slammed the snowman into the fire. He scrambled out of the melting slush, snowman already dead. Good.

Techno crawled to Tasha, still curled up. She shook when he pulled her into his lap, so he put his front to the fire. “Tash, I promise that I had no idea that would happen.”

She buried her face into his chest, but Techno saw the bruise forming over her left eye. He should have known. Instead of sitting there uselessly, he carried her inside and gave her a health potion. She looked hesitant, but Techno poured some into her hand anyway. With a gag, she licked it off. Pour, lick, pour, lick. They continued in silence, the voices growing louder. How could he have been so stupid?

How could he make this right?

He pulled out his notebook, flipping to the correct page. “The piglet stumbled through the forest, hoofs catching on roots. She couldn’t stop now, not when she was so close. Her breaths burned in her throat, puffing out into clouds.”

Tasha gasped and raised up her hand. When Techno attempted a smile, she patted his face. A real smile replaced the old.

“Finally, the forest started to thin, pine trees becoming prickle bushes. Up ahead a stream surged, not quite frozen over yet. There were stones, each close enough for her to just about be able to hop over.

“She skidded to a halt at the bank, water lapping at her hoofs. If she fell in she would surely freeze. There was only one shot at this.

“The first stone proved to be the easiest, only a block or two from the bank. The others, those would prove to be a struggle.

“Water splashed up at the piglet’s pant legs, soaking them. The frigid wetness startled her, making her stumble on the way over to the second stone.

“Oh, no!” Techno’s voice came to life. His monotone was gone, replaced by a storyteller's excitement and rapture, pouring his soul into the story. “She was tipping over! She refused to be killed by a stream and flapped her arms out like a chicken, regaining her balance. The piglet stuck her tongue out in concentration, water wouldn’t be the end of her.

“She had far more pressing matters, the stream needed to be crossed- now!

“A beast stumbled out of the brush, locking his gaze onto her, bellowing out!” Techno let out his war cry, Tasha oinking with pure joy. She patted his face and Techno continued.

“She froze, petrified. But, she had no time to be scared, she had to go.

“Fear made her quick, adrenaline made her nimble. The last couple of stones were hopped across and she went back to stumbling through the clearing on the other side.

“Her hand reached down to snag a dandelion in her hurry wanting a souvenir for her bravery,” Tasha paused in her patting and covered up the writing with her palm.

“Not. Soo- Souveen- That,” she bunched up her snout in frustration, “Gift!”

“... oh,” Techno… liked gifts. He hadn't gotten one in a while, the last one being a gag gift from Tommy and the one before that being a sword. This was nice. Tasha poked him and uncovered the book, rescuing him from his crisis.

He found his place, “Only a true hero would fight the beast as valiantly as she had.

“And what a fight it was! Cannonballs of snow and ice launched at deadly speeds. After taking one to the snout," Tasha grumbled at that, "she realized that the fight was not in her favor. That wouldn’t mean that she would lose, however.

“So run she did, far away from the battle, the beast gaining on her.

“Yes! Her flight would not be in vain: her castle was in sight. The front step in reach-

“No! The beast lunged, grabbing her into its maw.” Out of the story, Techno snuggled Tasha even closer than before, making Tasha giggle and snort.

“She would surely perish now. Embracing defeat like a true hero, she let out a sorrowful plead to her ancestors, begging for a swift death.” Tasha startled him by squealing out. Had he hurt her? She ended the squeal with another giggle, she was playing along.

“The beast was not merciful, digging its claws into her sides, making the piglet squeal out.” Techno dug his fingers into Tasha’s stomach, tickling her. Please don’t freak out, he begged, his plans almost always went right, but this was new. And just like that, Tasha was snorting and oinking, squirming in Techno’s lap. He chuckled, this time Tasha only grew louder, her piggy feet kicking around.

After a few more tickles, Techno stopped and Tasha panted, collapsing into his arms.

“Relentless it was, only vanquishing its attack when her energy was spent. She had no hope of escaping now.

“It bundled her up, immobilizing her. The beast would take no chances.

“To her cell, they went, surrounded by the beast’s bounties: texts of old, ones that she could not begin to understand.

“When she was deposited to her cot, for a moment she had hope for freedom, attempting to wiggle out of her bonds.

“The beast was no fool, seeing her attempts easily with its all-seeing eyes. Knowing that it would be foolish to leave her to her own devices- she would figure out escape soon enough- it wrapped itself around the piglet like a dragon to their egg. Its red wings lied on top of her, entrapping her further." His cloak came to encircle Tasha.

“How pitiful it was, to be at such a loss. There was no hope today. She was trapped.

“Tonight, she would bide her time. It was impossible for the beast to remain vigilant all hours of the night. Eventually, it would slumber.

“Then, she would strike.”

Techno closed his book, the pup heavy, or as heavy as her tiny body could be, and falling asleep. Techno smiled, cuddling her close as he carried her up the ladder to bed. It was nap time for her.

Tasha blinked up at him when she felt the soft wool tucked around her. Her voice remained just as soft as her yawn, “More. Please.”

Techno cooed, “That’s all I’ve got- right now. I’ll write some more just for you, pup.” She closed her eyes, accepting his answer. Soon, soft oink-snores were leaving her lips and Techno sat crisscrossed on the floor at the bed.

There were things to do, the list- even the farm- was nowhere near completed, but he… didn’t want to leave the sanctuary Tasha had created with her quiet sleep noises.

So Techno stayed by her side, studying his, or rather Tasha’s, cloak. The stitches were simple, he could probably recreate them. Out came the scissors and thread and Techno hacked through the cloak, cutting it a third of its old size. He ripped the fluff lining the edges off of the discarded fabric and sewed it back to the newly hemmed edge. It wasn’t great but it would definitely be more serviceable than the old cloak. Safer, too.

It had nearly been midday when Tasha’s nap started and was now hours later, Tasha beginning to stir. Techno reached for her hoofed hand and ran his thumb over her knuckles. Small.

Tasha pulled his hand into her mouth- and the moment was ruined. Kind of.

She scrubbed her eyes with her other hand and stopped chewing on his fingers to let out a squealing yawn.

“Come on, we’ve got some more work to do,” he said gently.

Instead of hopping off the bed, she rolled off and into Techno’s lap, right onto the new cloak. Techno tugged at it, signaling for her to move. Once stood, he kneeled down and fastened it around her shoulders. It fit really well, a nice surprise.

“Thank. Techno!” she spun in a circle, her cloak billowing out around her, not dragging like it used to.

“We match now,” Techno smiled, “When I fix up your clothes it’ll be perfect.”

Tasha giggled and jumped into his arms, wrapping herself around him. He took his bundle of piglin down and outside. No more games. No more snowmen.

Relighting the fire, Techno pulled out his shovel and got to work. Tasha stayed curled up by the fire, “What. We. Farm?”

“Potatoes, remember?”

Tasha hummed, “Better. Than. Hoglin.” Pardon? Techno blanched. No, she wouldn’t have… but what else would piglins eat? It made sense but was no less horrific.

“What should we feed it?” one of the villagers asked. Someone behind Techno’s pen replied, “Pigs’ll eat anything, right?” They both snickered and chanted: “For science!”

“You’ll never eat pork again.”

“I. Like. Potatoes.”

“Even without the gold?” he welcomed the subject change, however incidental it was.

“Yes,” she said, “Why. You. Like?”

Techno thought about it for a moment. If anything, he should hate potatoes. With the months he spent farming them endlessly- no he knew why, “When I was farming them in a competition, the Potato War,” Tasha nodded, following along, “I was doing it out of mindless competitive nature. Back in Pogtopia- that’s where I used to… work before I came here- I was doing it out of duty. Now, with this farm… I guess I’m finally doing it because I want to.”

“Tasha. Want. Too,” she got it.

They continued in companionable silence, just the moving of snow and Tasha’s snorting breaths to accompany him.

In the middle of the circular clearing, Techno dug a hole. When it froze almost immediately, he went inside (Tasha tagging along) to get a fence and lantern. Studying his ender chest, Techno shrugged, he might as well go all out.

Two diamonds, two sticks and Techno had a hoe. He needed to be even more extra, if just for the voices' cheers and enjoyment. A netherite ingot and a Fortune III book, the achievement popping up in chat.

No one responded. It would be fine. L’Manburg would just think he was fully embracing his retirement, not being a threat. He sighed, his image might be ruined but Tasha would have food. There was a clear winner.

Tasha could help with this part, once the water was saved. Techno started hoeing the ground, getting in the groove. Between breaths, Techno told Tasha, “Grab some potatoes from the pile, you can plant where I’ve hoed.”

She scrambled over to the potato pile he had made for her and grabbed some spuds. Her tiny hands could only hold a few, so it would be slow and tedious progress, but Tasha didn’t seem too bothered.

Techno was finished first, not to his surprise. He walked along Tasha’s potatoes, studying them. A few he adjusted but most were deemed adequate. They weren’t up to the Potato War’s standards, but this wasn’t a war, this was life. Life with Tasha.

Walking over to the potato pile, almost two-thirds finished, he scooped up as many as he could carry and joined Tasha in planting, Techno starting at the other end of the farm.

After another thirty minutes, they met in the middle, Tasha jumping into his arms. He held her up above the farm so they could both view their handiwork. “I’d say that we did a pretty good job,” Tasha patted his face and he patted hers back.

They had some more hours left, Techno reasoned. His carrots were growing scarce, of course, he could always trade for more, but this was… fun.

“I kept a distance from these and drew the enemy toward them. I face them and cause him to put his back to them,” Techno finished the paragraph he was on, checking on the page number: 74. Oh, Techno balked, he had been sitting here for a while. The pup in his lap was not quite asleep but definitely more relaxed than she was before the reading had started. It seemed he had found a past-time for them. Which they could resume later, “I know that I’m no genius with kids, but you probably need more than just a house to make this thing work. We’re not exactly in a living situation that supports two people.” There were a lot of things that needed to be done. He should probably make a list.

“Us?” Tasha murmured into his chest.

“Of course, Tasha.”

But if he wanted to make a list he would have to move Tasha and that would be… difficult. His fingers ached in memory. So he picked back up his book and resumed. Was his copy English… yes, but could anyone blame him for not wanting to learn a third language? No.

A few minutes passed when a nail poked into his side. The book slipped from his hands and he fumbled, trying to stop it from landing on Tasha’s head. She looked annoyed and when he waited for her to talk, she poked him again, harder this time.

“Hey, chill. What?”

“No. Chill,” she huffed, “No. Speak. Book.”

He rolled his eyes and resumed his reading, this time remembering to narrate. One more poke and Tasha was satisfied.

Until she wasn’t. She didn’t poke this time but Techno knew that look, the spacing out: Tasha was bored. Which was a little insulting to such a classic like The Art of War. He had spent countless hours in this very chair rereading the text when he had nothing else to do. Everyone could learn something from it, the strategies and the battles- yeah, that was going to be boring to anyone that wasn’t Techno. Looking back now, Techno did only pick it up when he was bored.

“Are you bored?”

Tasha wiggled, her pent up energy finally escaping. A hand came out and patted at his face. That was a yes then. Perhaps it was time for a different book. He twisted as best as he could, arm snaking around his shelves. A few manuals, an enchanting guide, a textbook on English (far more detailed than anyone else would want), and so on. Nothing that a piglin pup would find interest in.

“Sorry, pup, I’ve got nothing else on me.”

The pup in question grumbled and refused to yield, “Get. Else.” Nice, she was either threatening him or telling him to buy a book from a non-existent trader. If he had the free time he could… no, that would be pointless and he wasn’t that skilled. Unless…

No.

“How about instead… we… go downstairs,” smooth, “and see what needs to be done?” Ignoring the grumbling, he scooped and carried Tasha down and to the carpet she loved so much. Look for something, Techno, don’t be a fool. Ah-ha, “I need a chair.” Easy, all he needed was some dark oak planks which he didn’t have- but he did have saplings. And bones for bone meal. And just like that, he’s got a plan. No one should ever doubt his abilities.

Grabbing his axe, Techno swung open the door, letting the cold air in. Tasha whimpered but was wearing her cloak. She must need warmer clothes. Techno would take care of that later- which was another activity!

Out on the porch, Techno reached down to help Tasha down the stairs, but she wasn’t there. She was still sitting on the carpet… whimpering. “Hey, what’s going on,” he soothed.

“Change. Mind?” she whispered, Techno’s ears just sensitive enough to pick it up. No, no, she didn’t think that, please, Tehno begged.

Techno kneeled in front of her, setting his hands on her shoulders. She flinched away

Techno wasn’t getting used to the pokes and prods, even after they had been happening for so long. The needles were starting to get long and stuck further into his skinny body. The villagers were returning soon, all he wanted was for the touching to stop.

and Techno retracted his hands. He stayed crouched but leaned back, giving her some space. He needed to fix this now, “I’m keeping you for as long as you want to stay. That’s my promise and I never break them.”

Tasha’s lip quivered, her eyes watered. Not a single tear fell. After a moment of doubt and Techno forcing himself to have patience, she lunged forward into his arms. “Promise?”

“Yes.” She would realize later how she was better off without him. But not yet, “Are you ready to go? I can show you my skills with a carving knife if you want.”

She wrapped her limbs around him so Techno could stand up and take them outside. The tree could just be grown a little ways from the house in the clearing. He crouched down to plant a few saplings and almost toppled over, “Hey, Tasha, you’ve gotta let go.” Tasha peered down at the ground, the snow a few inches thick. Techno batted the snow around and she oinked in wonder. Her hoofs crunched in the snow when she hopped off of him.

“Snow…” she scuttled around the saplings, kicking snow everywhere and watching it blow in the wind. Techno let her play, growing the saplings into a mighty dark oak tree. Distracted by the snow, Tasha squealed when the tree appeared. Her hoofs didn’t catch up to her mind causing her to trip and face plant into a snowdrift.

At the sight of the poor pup, Techno let out a belly laugh. Aw, Tasha was pouting- nope, that was a quivering lip. His laughter ended, “Sorry! Uh… Tasha, I wasn’t laughing at you,” okay that was a lie, “I was- It was funny, the situation, not you.”

Her lip stopped quivering and she smiled hesitantly, “Funny?”

“Yeah, kiddo.” Techno helped her up, and gave her a handful of snow, “Go back to playing and I’ll be done soon.” She obliged with an oink and went back to running around. Techno made sure she was away from his axe before he hacked his way through the tree, netherite turning the bark to butter. He only needed one or two logs, but it was never a bad idea to have more. Down the tree went and this time Tasha watched it fall with wonder-filled eyes. The slam echoed around the mountains.

Getting to work at hacking apart the trunk, Techno made a stack of logs under the lone spruce tree in front of his house. Now they would remain at least a bit sheltered from the weather. One of the logs was turned into planks for the chair. Inside the cabin, Techno would carve and sand them down further.

Techno carried the wood in one arm and Tasha in the other, the latter grumbling and making grabby hands at the snow. When they got to the door, though, Tasha helped Techno by pushing open the door and then patted his face. Techno thanked her.

The wood went on the table and Tasha went in her chair. Or his old chair… which meant it was way too big for her. Hmmm. He could make the new chair to her size and he would just get back his old chair. It would take less time by being smaller.

“Could you help me out with this?”

The pup slipped out of the chair and stood next to him, studying the wood. “How. Help?”

How was he going to do this? “I need your measurements: height, width, and…” Techno droned on, focused on assembling the chair to the best of his rusty ability. Tasha followed him around, marking where he said, grabbing new pieces of wood, but never using the saw he had brought inside. Techno didn’t let her. She did make a nice assistant, Techno smiled to himself.

The chair was assembled, and Tasha looked comfortable in it, much more than she was in his chair.

She saw him judging his handy work and said, “Make. Mine. If. Techno. Can.” Her fingers were running along the smooth wood, nice but not very interesting. Perhaps.

“I could carve some things into it. What do you want?”

Tasha’s tongue stuck out in thought, “Fun,” she perked up, “Not. Nether.”

Okay, something from the Overworld that was fun. Fun. Fuuuun. What sparked joy in the world? Friends, family, pets- no Carl wasn’t the most amusing horse, mostly just annoying-, animals. Kids loved animals. Oh, he knew: “How about some pigs, those are pretty fun animals.”

She shook her head, “No. Nether.”

Techno explained, “No, pigs are in this world, piglins are in the Nether. Pigs are brilliant creatures. Fun, as well.”

A soft oh escaped Tasha. “Show?”

“Later I’ll show you a real one, but you’ll get the idea from the carvings if you still want them.” When no opposition was heard, Techno began carving into the back of the chair. He hadn’t done this since he was a kid, he used to carve on his practice wooden swords. They were never good, Techno had a habit of biting off more than he could chew, but a pig was simple.

But then it was carved… not very well. Techno bruh-ed. Maybe he underestimated the challenge a pig would prove to be. No matter, he had to get at least one good pig, so he started a new one, a few inches to the left of the previous. Tasha watched closely, breathing in softly as if she didn’t want to disturb him. Her face was leaning closer and closer with each pig Techno finished. By the time that he was done with the back and the tops of the arms, her snout was brushing against Techno’s hand. When Techno pulled his hands back to admire his handy work, Tasha was so caught up in following his movements that she bumped into the arm of the chair, not realizing that Techno had left.

She let out a squeal and rubbed her snout. Still not noticing that he was done, just that he had moved, Techno nudged her, “Do you like it?”

Her hand moved away from her face and to the carvings, running along each intricate pig. After the first three, Techno had finally gotten a hang of it, the rest- and there were many more- of the pigs were pretty cute. The chair wouldn’t fit where the table currently was so it went into the main room. Techno then dragged the chair over to the table, her side being the one closest to the crafting table, and pushed Tasha in. She was at the right height size now, it was clearly meant for her.

Tasha oinked at a pig with a smiley face on the left arm, yeah she liked it. “Pig! Chair! For. Pig. Tasha!” Oh, she was such a baby, an adorable, little baby. As Techno wrung his hands out, the tension escaping them, he couldn't care less about all of the scrapes and nicks that the knife gave him, Tasha’s sparkly eyes made it all worth it.

“It’s your throne, Tasha,” he sat down across from her, giving her a potato and golden carrot.

“Throne… Pig. Throne,” Tasha gasped, eyes glowing. After her declaration, she monched down on her potato. Then went the carrot.

Techno sighed, this was good. Tasha was happy. Techno was content.

He pulled out his notebook from his belt where it was always fastened. A list was still in need. Tasha’s Needs was a good start. There were obvious ones like food which consisted of potatoes and carrots but he would run out of potatoes soon, the villagers didn’t trade for them and he had no farm. The next was clothes: Tasha had some, but the ones she had were old and few. Techno would have to make more using the old ones as patterns. The last was iffy, Tasha needed a bed. Tasha had only stayed two nights and only during one did she use a bed. That left the question of whether she would use his or her own and if she had her own, she needed a room.

But… he would figure that out later. For now, he had a pup to entertain and still a few hours of daylight to waste.

“Story. Time?” Tasha must have been watching him just stare at his notebook after finishing his list.

“No,” Tasha pouted, “But… maybe later. For now, we can go outside again, play in the snow.”

Tasha did not hesitate and scrambled for the door. She got scooped and off they went to the clearing. It must have snowed when the chair making was going on, as there was a good fourth of a block of snow covering the frozen grass.

Even though Tasha wasn’t wearing real pants, just a dress, she didn’t mind once she was put down. That didn’t stop her from sinking down to her knees in it. After kicking around in it, Techno lied down and made a snow vex, not getting up after. It was comfortable, don't judge him. He closed his eyes and listened to Tasha giggling-

A snowball splattered next to his face. Ah. A battle it was.

Techno scrambled behind the pile of wood he had made earlier and started to pack up snow. Another ball exploded next to his hoof. He’d have to hurry. He peeked around the corner, let out a war cry and a snowball. When he heard a squeal he threw the next one less… excessively. Techno wouldn’t call himself competitive. Just… battle-ready.

They traded hits, Tasha picking up Techno’s war cry, hers being a high pitched screech. Soon, Techno was cornered in the woodpile, so he ran to the forest, making sure to stay in Tasha’s sight. Through the trees, he weaved. He hid behind a thick spruce with low branches and made the biggest snowball he could. This… this would be the finishing blow. Not- Not in a death way, Techno scolded.

He could hear Tasha’s crunching hoofsteps growing closer and closer- there! He spun around the branch and-

Tasha let out her screech, Techno blinded by the snow she had smashed into his face. No… he- Techno had lost. But Technoblade never dies. How could this be? No, no, Techno refused. He wiped the snow out of his eyes and pounded a snowball into shape, he aimed.

Tasha wasn’t there.

No.

She must have run away, must have gotten scared at his yell. Techno had gotten too aggressive, had gotten too engaged in the fight. It was supposed to be fun, just a game. The trees must have made her think he was trying to lose her in the wilderness, and Tasha… didn’t know the area. She wasn’t the Human GPS. She could easily fall into one of the snow overhangs and hurt herself on the ice. No!

Techno scrambled after her hoof prints, a new snowfall starting to cover them up. He tripped over a root and yelled out. His ankle twisted but he kept plowing forward. The prints were weaving through the brush and Techno struggled to keep track of them.

He let out a sob when he saw Tasha in the distance skidding over some ice. She kept her balance but either didn’t hear or care that Techno called out her name. Techno’s fears were right: she was running away. Should he stop? That might calm her down but if she left, she would never come back. Techno didn’t want to be left alone again, not after he had grown to like Tasha so much.

He was starting to gain on Tasha! Right as she was in reach, Techno grabbed out and slipped. Ice broke his fall and winded him. Trying to get up, Techno rolled to his side and watched her disappear from his view over a hill. It was too late.

When his breath came back to him, he limped back to the cabin. His eyes blurred, Techno was a failure.

“Me. Beat. You!”

Techno collapsed onto the carpet. Curling in on himself. She was… playing tag. Okay. That was. Fine.

“Techno?”

He needed a minute but Tasha hopped down from where she was sitting regally on her throne. She curled into his side and stayed there. When Techno regained his composure, he tucked his head into his knees and whispered, “Please don’t run off like that again, Tash, I thought you-” his voice broke, “Just… don’t, okay.”

Tasha pulled his arm over her, “Okay. Sorry,” she whispered back.

They stayed like that until Techno’s back hurt. Tasha stayed quiet and clung to Techno when he stood up. He scooped her up and brought her upstairs. It was bedtime for them.

He helped Tasha get changed out of her wet clothes and into one of his nightshirts. With her situated for a moment, he went into the bathroom and splashed some water on his face. It was frigid but welcomed. Off his cloak and dress shirt went to be replaced with a soft cotton one. Tasha was where he left her, standing and fiddling with something.

Setting her on the bed, she stopped him from tucking her in. “Here. For. Sad.” In her hand was a crumpled dandelion. He closed his eyes and breathed for a moment.

“Thank you, Tasha.”

When he tucked her in, the dandelion sat on the chest of clothes. He would have to pot it.

Techno slipped in beside her, and she crawled over him to be on the open side, Techno against the window again. The sun was slipping down the horizon and golden light seeped into the room. When the sun was fully done and the moon rose, Techno found himself still awake. He was restless, both from their battle and the aftermath.

Slipping out of bed and hushing Tasha back into a slumber, he looked for something to occupy himself. His journal sat on the chest next to the flower. Taking a gentle hand and adjusting the flower’s petals, he took his journal to his library chair and got comfortable.

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.