FSE

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CHAPTER 4

Subservience

Echoes of laughter, of screaming, of dining ware scraping across ceramic plates, and of glasses clinking reaches the two lapin boys guarding the hatch. It is the quietest in the first living room, save for the usual ruckus of the dining hall, only forty paces away.

Marcosh sighs as he hears Reifa's booth once again going boisterous with laughter. Everyone is having fun without him; even Cassidy is screaming at their father for being a jester.

"Marcosh, why are you sighing? You don't even sit at Reifa's table." Garrett says.

"Oh, but you do, Garrett, you big grown-up," Marcosh says, poking Garrett's small potbelly.

Garrett twirls his stick around and holds the end to Marcosh's throat. "Do not in'sault the Noble Guard!"

"Insult? Or assault?"

"Both at once!"

Marcosh holds his hands up, submitting. "Fine fine," he says. He sits on the step, ever-gazing to his right to stare into the dining hall. He can almost see the twins in Reifa's booth, laughing away at whatever jokes she shares.

The two boys, Marcosh and Garrett, are in the main living room guarding the hatch. The only _safeguard_the den needs. They are not standing here to protect the den from an intruder, and they stand here because they are fast runners. They can race through the den and shout for everyone to assemble in the main chamber if need be.

In case a wolf knocks.

No wolf has ever knocked on this door, and if one were to, the family would assemble before the wolf reaches the final knock. It does not matter what material the door is crafted from; the ceiling will be ripped from the structural foundation to let the royal enter. That is what the neighborhood tells the Thumpers, and Laela has strongly vouched for this claim.

The main living room is designed for a wolf to stand within. The center of the room is strictly kept clear. The ceiling is twelve feet high, which is supposedly enough for the head tax collectors. Marble tiles lay around an elevated platform that connects with the contour of the hatch steps.

At the beginning of the den-digging, Grean took awhile to get the room just right long before he had the help he needed to fix what was pretty much a hole in the ground. The ground and ceiling were of packed dirt until that labor crew from the city rebuilt this room. The floor now is of a beautifully polished marble. He purchased the furniture in this room from The Coffin, furniture that is classy and dated. Two long couches rest on opposite sides of the Wolf's Circle. A beautiful recliner sits directly in front of the oval platform w female where _producers_directly face the tax-collector.

A brick and mortar arch divides this chamber and the long hall. Subtly glowing, rock-like roots from the lone tree above the hatch twist and coil below the stone ceiling and entwining along the wall toward the right of the hatch.

The den-hatch faces north-north-west, toward the Eternal Midnight Moon. It is law that hatch entryways must face the Wolf King's moon.

The two rabbits have their backs to the door. They face inward with Marcosh on the left and Garrett on the right.

"All day. I'm here allday. Impunitive, indubitably." Marcosh says.

"A noble duty!" Garrett proclaims. He thuds the base of his stick to the ground, the rod being the broken pole from an old broom.

Marcosh crosses his arms and slumps down on his knees. "Sure, Garrett."

Garrett stares forward as though he were some well-venerated soldier. A knight that must maintain a fierce vigil from beneath the rim of the metal pot he uses for a helmet.

Marcosh stares at the smooth contours of the marble beneath his feet, sprawling his bare toes across the flat surface. "Ever ponder the matters beyond this hatch?"

"Never!" Garrett says with utmost certainty.

Marcosh looks to his tiny brother. "Earnestly?"

"What?"

"I am querying if you stand authentic." Marcosh sighs, having to dumb himself down.

Garrett lowers his face to hide beneath the rim of his helmet. He has no idea what Marcosh is asking him, so he takes a gander when he lifts his head, "Well, I know there are wolves out there."

"Correctly so, yet more may exist. The unknown might yield innumerable possibilities." Marcosh says.

Marcosh is twelve and possesses the vocabulary of a full thesaurus. He often forgets his siblings, even Essa and Maela, who cannot keep up with his usage of words. Watching the hatch and being smart with his vocabulary is about all he can do. He has the same serious appearance as Vick, but with dark silver eyes. He keeps his hair short, almost naturally animalistic. He suffers from various physical ticks, usually with a need to touch every patch of his white fur over and over again or to draw a line in the fur pattern around his belly, which possesses a white coat while most of him is midnight. His tantrums, however, turn to raging violence more often than Yaril's, except Marcosh's loss of control leads to self-harm.

Garrett is four years old and is quick to tease his siblings, but all in good fun. He is a lovable kit and the first to offer help, though exclusively to his older sisters or Jacob. Often to tease Andya, Garrett ends up playing with her and her dolls more than anyone. He can already read Slab-Scratch, and he can recite the spellings to hundreds of words. His wide blue eyes watch Marcosh count the white spots of fur on his left and right arm. Back forth, over and over again. Garrett is grateful that Marcosh had decided not to count his spots. "Marcosh, are you okay?"

"Yes," Marcosh states. "I'm ticking."

Garrett frowns, not knowing what that means as he listens for a clock.

There is a scratch at the door.

"Say what?" Marcosh says. He jumps to his feet.

Garrett whips around and points his stick to the door. "I didn't say anything! That was the door!"

"Lupine?" Marcosh asks as he turns away, ready to run and gather everyone up.

There is another scrape and a muffled voice.

"Huh?" Garrett says. He walks up to the hatch. "There's someone here."

The scratch happens again, then a female's voice can be heard.

Garrett smiles. He turns around to face the wide-eyed Marcosh. "Big brother, we have a guest!" he says with a playful smile on his face. "Unlock the door! Quietly!"

"But if a wolf comes, we'd be ready. I mean, we spend our lives becoming prepared for this." Loxacael says.

Sahrua shrugs, utterly uncertain. "I don't know. I'd still be scared."

"I'd be more scared about the Grip of Death," Marke says.

Loxacael nods as he waves his fork at Marke. "That's pure fear, but the wolves still adhere to the collection laws they themselves wrote."

Marke shakes his head. "Hey, I only know what we're taught in the class."

"And what our neighbors say when the grown-ups talk, and they don't think we're listening," Sheila suggests.

Loxacael hums. "But if a wolf knocked on our door, I bet even Cecil would cry."

"Cry? What? From fear?" Cali asks. She adorns a bold look in her cold green eyes. "Please, our big brothers aren't afraid of no wolf."

Marke wears a deep frown. "Do you know how scary it's going to be when they come for--" He goes quiet and leans forward. "When they come to collect the first?"

"When they come for Kurinne?" Loxacael asks.

Cali, Sheila, Nina, and Sahrua hiss the same. "Shh!"

Jessin is ignoring the conversation while chows down her chicken-root. She knows she will be healthy when the time comes.

Buraldin lets them speak because he has no opinions on the matter. He notices he still has soil on his right forearm because of the glowing specks of blue spores clinging to it. He sighs and heads to the restroom. "Excuse me."

"Sure thing, Buraldin," Loxacael says.

"Loxacael, you're not afraid of the wolf that comes?" Sahrua questions.

"Of course, he is." Jessin declares when Loxacael opens his mouth.

Loxacael closes his mouth and looks at Jessin, letting her explain herself with his fierce, born-to-be-angry face his siblings love to mimic while staring back.

Jessin sips her water so she can speak clear and concise. "He's acting tough, just like our older siblings."

"Because he is tough." Sahrua conjectures.

Loxacael smiles with pride, repeatedly nodding to this statement.

"We won't know until they knock," Cali says. "Then, we'll know who wets and who doesn't."

"Cali, I heard about that!" Marke says. "Animalia pee themselves when they're near a wolf."

"What?" Sahrua contorts her face to disbelief when she asks.

Loxacael snaps his fingers again and again as he tries to remember. "The uh, what was the word they used?"

"What word?" Buraldin asks as he sits back down. He wipes his wet elbow against his pant leg.

"When you pee yourself, and you can't control it cause it just happens," Marke says.

"Oh, Involuntary urination?" Buraldin asks. "You're still talking about wolves?"

Jessin rolls her eyes. "When are they not talking about wolves?"

"Who do you think will pee themselves first?" Loxacael asks.

Half look to Norta, half look to Marke, wondering who will win the race, first.

"You didge all jat, jusht for excha shyshes ov cake?" Wurima asks. She smiles when Cassidy returns to the table and thankfully, without one of the baby siblings. Wurima can use a break from caring for the kits, but now she is suddenly conscious about their chosen conversation. With Cassidy back, everyone is about to get scolded.

Haver nods with pride. "Hector and Rhy wanted nothing to do with it. They still helped cause we're a team!" he says as he chews on the appetizer, believing it is bread. He and Wurima are the only ones still nibbling on the loaves.

Hector continnues grinning like a criminal as he chews.

Rhy looks to the side, avoiding eye contact.

"Wurima, it was worth it," Rhy says.

"Dragon-Mouth! Call her Dragon-Mouth! We have to!" Haver corrects.

"NO! I'm not calling her that!" Rhy hisses. He looks at Wurima, who smiles back at him. He struggles not to look at the metal between her lips because it scares him.

Cassidy growls at Haver, then lecturing him, "Haver. Don't mock Wurima's braces. Those were very expensive, and she's always in pain because of them!"

Haver crosses his arms and pouts at Cassidy. "Cass, Wurima is the one who came up with the name Dragon-Mouth." He smiles at Wurima to direct Cassidy's attention to their sister with crooked incisors.

Cassidy contorts her face to one of disbelief. She looks to Wurima for confirmation and receives a cheeky iron smile beamed back. Wurima appears to be a Dragon, and Cassidy will forever struggle not to see the comparison. Her eyes slide like fiery lava over her siblings, who each giggle away.

Wurima returns her attention to Rhy and gets back to her interrogation even with Cassidy here, "You crimb up uh garbarge shootsh to shteal food and crimb back down uh shame shoots jat hash poopsh in it." Wurima says. The straighteners in her teeth severely inhibit her words.

Cassidy directs a most unpleasantly dismayed face at Wurima, then Haver.

"Yeah, but we had the cake in a container," Haver says.

Rhy and Hector each shrug in full agreement that they see nothing wrong.

"That's still disgusting!" Vilma states. Cassidy and Wurima are in full agreement.

Haver emits a snort. "Well, we clean those chutes twice a season," He crosses his arms. "Me and Rhy. We practically live there!"

Hector nods in agreement, but he still contains the guilt on his face of joining this operation. "We got cake, didn't we? And then Mikna and Carr blamed Brilando the next day." He takes a bite of his noodles, slurping up the excess that hangs free of his lip and showing absolutely no guilt for their older brother taking the fall.

"I cood shmell," Wurima says, inviting a round of giggling from the girls.

Hector's eyes go wide. He turns and lifts Rhy's arm to sample a whiff.

"Yeah, keep trying. You get used to the smell." Haver says to Hector, chuckling.

Rhy retracts his arm and starts furiously sniffing himself. Peril pours from his face when he looks at Hector and then Haver, who each recoil themselves from him.

Haver nods. "Hector, me, and Rhy won't notice the smell because we're buried in it enough. Even in our rubber suits, we're going to smell like compost for the rest of our lives. Right, Rhy?"

"This is going to make you easy to pursue if you ever rob a bank," Hector says.

"Thosh guuerd wooled shniffle out zat shtank'crosh Vaeria," Wurima says. No one understands her.

Rhy thrusts his snout into the soft fur of his arm and collar to desperately search for the smell.

"I don't smell anything like that," Vilma says.

Wurima holds her hands up to tell Vilma to hush.

Haver chuckles as he takes another bite of his cheesy bread.

"Wait, are you fucking_with me?" Rhy begs, "_Do I smell?"

"LANGUAGE!" Cassidy shouts, making Rhy near leap from his seat from the startle.

"Damn it, Cass, stop screaming like that!" Hector roars at her.

Cassidy balls her fists up. "Hector, Haver, Wurima, stop using foul language and talking about the trash at the dinner table! Rhy, don't say the F-word!"

Rhy mutters to her, "Why? Ike already knows the word. He's been using it everywhere."

Cassidy growls back and holds the sound until Rhy drops his head toward his dinner to submit.

Wurima contains a laugh behind her cupped hands. "Shory, Cashy." She eats another bite of crumbling bread.

Rhy and Haver share a look and roll their eyes. Rhy smiles at Haver when he sees the white and orange powder all over his brother's whiskers, lips, and pretty much most of his face within two inches of his mouth.

"What? Is there something on my face?" Haver asks as he takes another bite.

Rhy leaves it be.

Cassidy goes back to elegantly cutting through her food while her face looks almost sickly.

"Alfonso, stop picking your nose." Kiistavo orders as he chews his food.

Alfonso uses the same finger that is covered in garlic butter and powdered flavoring to try and get something out of his nostrils. "Kiistavo, there's rice in my nose."

"You wouldn't have rice up your nose if you didn't put it there." Truine scolds.

"But Truine, you made me laugh, and I breathed it in!" Alfonso cries.

"How does Alfonso get rice when we all get noodles?" Truine asks.

"He wanted to eat the leftovers from the other night," Kiistavo says.

"Alfy, You're gross," Sarina says. "We're going to start calling you Ferdinand the Second."

The very life drains out of Alfonso's face when he hears this threat. His future career of kicking ass as a guard is at risk. He looks over Sarina and Kiistavo's shoulder to where Ferdinand is when a pitiful, "No!" escapes him.

"Get that food out of your nose, you delinquent!" Norta says. He reaches for Ferdinand to hit the green out of his snout.

Gavin is falling out of his seat from laughter. His laugh is starting to turn into that psychotic, wailing noise that makes the boy sound on the verge of death from suffocation.

Ferdinand pushes another broccoli stem up his other nostril to complete his green mustache.

"Miranda," Liesca says, trying not to watch.

"Yes, Liesca?" Miranda asks.

"When we grow up and move to the next table, let's all vote, so Ferdinand goes back to table one where Ike will sit forever," Liesca says.

Ferdinand blows the broccoli from his nostrils, sending them back onto his plate with a splat. "You can't do that!" He plucks one of the same broccoli up with a claw and pops it into his mouth.

Dyson crosses his arms and clears his throat. "I bet we can." He refuses to eat until Ferdinand stops or leaves. He looks at his siblings, who share the same morbid expression. He cranes his neck to look at the sixth table for someone to save them. "How are your nose holes big enough for those? No, wait, I don't want to know."

Ferdinand looks at Maegin. She averts her eyes so as not to lose her appetite. Ferdinand looks intently at Marin. "Marin?"

Marin shakes her head, not wanting to talk to Ferdinand right now. "You have green on your nose," she says politely, not wanting to eat her food. She rolls her eyes and looks to see where Cassidy is.

Ferdinand picks his nose to wipe the broccoli out. "Thanks, Marin." He sucks on his finger.

"No, please, don't thank me," Marin begs, near losing her meal. She is grateful to have an empty stomach as it is impossible to eat when you've got this kind of sibling at the table.

Norta growls his words at Ferdinand, "You're an embarrassment. Knock it off."

"Norta, you've sounded lots more like Cassidy," Gavin says, not intending it to be a compliment. Gavin is the only one slamming his food into his mouth, utterly immune to Ferdinand's disgusting antics.

"A lot, more like Cassidy. Not lots." Maegin corrects him as she points toward and taps the white V by her left eye.

Gavin sneers, aiming his incisors at Maegin's fur pattern. "Whatever."

Ferdinand frowns, then smiles. He lifts two more ideal pieces of broccoli intending to insert the stems into his nose.

"Don't you dare, Rabbit!" Norta threatens. He turns to find Cassidy only to see that she is aware as if psychic, and already looks their way. Her ears are high above her head, so Norta waves to have her come over.

"Norta! You're calling Cassie over?!" Ferdinand cries. He watches Cassidy wipe her mouth and stand up from her table. She is on her way after politely excusing herself.

Norta turns to Ferdinand. "You'll be lucky if all you get is a slap."

"Ferdinand, what are you doing? Why do you put stems up your nose?" Cassidy demands while crossing her arms. Her Dragon-like eyes burn through Ferdinand's soul.

Ferdinand can imagine smoke coming out of her flaring nostrils. "I was--I was--" His fear turns around as a smile spreads across his face. He slowly lifts those two pieces of broccoli with a stem encroaching toward each nostril.

Norta applies his palm to his forehead. "Here it comes."

Ferdinand inserts the broccoli, one to each nostril.

"Ferdinand, don't get smart with me, you--"

Ferdinand looks at Cassidy with a puffy green mustache. "I was--smelling the flowerets!" He giggles before screaming in pain. The broccoli falls from his snout and to his lap.

Cassidy has him firmly by the ears. "Come on! Time-out!" She pulls him out of his seat.

"But--OW! My food! I'm still eating!" Ferdinand cries. He still has green smeared between his nose and mouth. He stumbles after Cassidy as she leads him away from the tables and toward the corner by the kitchen entrance. The kits of the first table laugh at him.

Everyone knows at some point during near every single meal, Cassidy will drag Ferdinand (or Ike (or both)) to time-out.

"Putting food in your nose doesn't constitute as eating," Cassidy says.

Once Ferdinand gets plopped onto a chair in the corner, the third table claps and cheers for Cassidy's rescue.

Ferdinand tries to stand back up, but his shoulder gets quickly gripped to guide him back down. It is not a painful grip, but Cassidy does have claws he would choose not to get pricked with.

"Keep sat and stare at the wall. You'll finish your food when everyone else is done."

"But--Cassie! It won't be hot anymore!"

"Face the wall!"

"See? That's your future, Alfonso." Sarina says.

Alfonso stands up with determination, painted all over his face to change his ways. "Sarina, family, pardon me." He excuses himself to the restroom to clean up.

"Good on you." Kiistavo hollers after him.

Cecil keeps his desirous eyes locked on the glass of cider he placed down. "Maybe we shouldn't get drunk if we're going in the chasm."

Carr stares into his empty cup. He blinks a few times before he sits up and stares straight ahead at Renee.

She grins back, knowing how far gone her brother is and watches Carr slowly put his mug down and nudge his brother Vick for the pitcher of water.

"You boys are going down tonight?" Laela asks.

Grean nods to her, never looking her way. He has a cold glare on his dinner and has not touched the dinner rolls he loves typically after the first bite.

Carr lies, "I sincerely forgot we were going." He then emits a hiccup. He blushes and lowers his head, quite drunk from the cider.

Laela looks deep into her husband's eyes. "Why are you not looking at me."

Grean's eyes move over to the empty glass beside his plate and regrets not drinking more as it has yet to hit him. He considers tapping his whiskey in the office before the dive.

Vick and Cecil poke fun at Carr because the boy sees purple skunks from the cider. They know Carr is not diving down anything but into his bed.

Grean's eyes remain locked on his sons and cannot look Laela in the eyes. "We're going down when our food goes down."

Laela sits upright, tall, and healthy with the front of her tunic and shawl bunched into her fist. "Should we call the Guard?"

"I told you we're not going to call for them." Grean snaps.

"It's a Serepentian!" Laela argues. "You identified it. It's one of those evil things, and you know that my boys are not going near that thing!"

"I have it handled. I'll go down first. This dive isn't my first arena bout," Grean states. "Stop being so damn religious. It's just a lizard without its legs." He smiles, nervously glancing at his daughters.

"You're not letting my boys go near that thing without an officer."

Grean closes his eyes and goes dead silent for a moment so that everyone can absorb his resolve and join in the silence. "Remember, long long ago, when I chose this spot?" Grean says to his wife.

Laela nods while cowering behind her subservience.

Grean looks over the cafeteria filled from end to end with their children. "It was a very_unique plot. No one wanted to settle here for decades and decades because Animalia could _sense_something was--_off," He locks his eyes on Cecil. "To the point where our firstborn got linked to something beyond our understanding."

Vick rolls his eyes and looks away. He mutters, "If there's a sword down there for The Chosen One, I call dibs."

"Dibs if its a wand," Kurinne says with a smile.

Cecil stares at his father with keen eyes demanding answers.

Grean growls his next words. "We have to look down there. I have to look down there. I don't want some soldiers coming into my home. They would rob us or take someone." His eyes fall on Renee.

Renee's ears shoot straight up toward the ceiling. She still has food sticking out of the side of her mouth. "What? Why are you looking at me?" She puts her fork down and adjusts her clothes, patting the crumbs off of her linen-embraced peaks. She goes back to eating but with her head low and uncertain as to why she was the target of that statement.

Laela lowers her head as if trained to keep quiet, and she never argues for very long.

Grean glares at his hands. "The skeleton below is not harmful. It's a skeleton. It's been dead for more than a hundred years. I have to get down there and be certain that there's nothing important we are burying, and you all know how stubborn I am and how independent I want us to be."

"Alright. I trust you. You know that, right?"

"Course, Love-Buns."

The two nuzzle their heads together.

Cecil thinks it romantic until Laela licks a piece of food from Grean's cheek. Vick snorts and looks away, not up for the mushy stuff from two kin he does not trust. Carr gulps water, too drunk to notice. Kurinne swoons. Maela smiles. Renee continues to eat. She looks into the distance, wanting to be far away from this place when her parents turn romantic.

Jacob visits the table, having been relieved from the generator by Alic. He walks up to Carr's plate and uses Carr's resting fork to pluck up a giant bite of seasoned tuber and pop it into his mouth. "What'chya tokkin'bout?" he asks as he chews.

"Oh, Hey--son!" Grean says.

Laela slants her eyes at her husband. You still don't know your son's name?

"We're talking about the spelunkin'," Carr growls as he looks at his brother's dumb face. "Give my food back!" He pulls his flat cap off, ready to wrestle his brother. The subtle piercings on Carr's ears shine against the dim bulb above. "Go to your own table and get your own food, Jacob!"

Grean raises his chin, Right, Jacob. That's his name.

Jacob holds his mouth open so Carr can see the mush. He discards the fork back to Carr's plate before he scurries off to his table, evading Carr's slap.

Carr held back a gag and shut his eyes, "You're fu--damn nasty."

Cassidy is busy scolding Ferdinand, yet her ear perks toward Carr's halted curse. Carr censored himself, hopefully making him safe from her profanity and vulgarity radar.

"Hey! How's it going?" Sena asks. She pops up at the same time Carr turns to follow Jacob's escape path.

Carr forms a protective wall along the edge of his plate.

Sena is the reason why Carr acquired piercings. Sena is the reason why anyone in the den gets a piercing. She is the queen of dyed hair and punking out. Her ears hold enough metal on them that they seldom raise from her nape. The front of her tunic has protruding dents from the barbells. The double-piercing passing through her tongue slurs her speech. She does the piercings herself and without pause for pain. Her hopeful green eyes burn bright. Her tunic remains open on the sides, leaving her exposed from her shoulder to her waist. A lean forward is all it takes for her to flash everyone, but none of her siblings care. She wears this sort of clothing because she is not ashamed to show off the wretched scar that runs the length of her right side from her hip to her arm and across her back. She has beautiful purple and black scene hair covering much of her face. She is Vick and Keel's assistant in the foundry. She crafts gorgeous figurines and has also crafted the studs, hoops, bars, chains, and gauges that run the course of her body.

"There's my smelting partner!" Vick says. Vick had put gauges in his ears, thanks to Sena. Vick worked with molten material and grew tired of wrapping his ears in cloth. With ear gauges, he applies a thread to keep his lapin ears safe behind his back.

Sena gazes over everyone's plate and investigates any differences from this table's food and her own table's selection. There is more food, that is it. She narrows her eyes when she looks into Carr's drunken haze and then back at the tankard. "You better have more."

The scar that runs Sena's back and right flank is all Renee can see. It is a nasty burn that Sena acquired during her youth. Her first experience in the kitchen had gone wrong when a splash of oil across her side simultaneously caught fire. One would think that alone will scare Sena away from a fiery profession, yet she works in their foundry with the forge and kiln, determined to face her fears.

"Are you going to be our crane support?" Carr asks, in reference to the chasm dive.

Sena shakes her head. "I have a lot of work left to do to on some stuff. I'll be up for another half a day working on the wax figurines."

Vick nods. "That's right," he says over his father's throat clearing.

Sena announces, "I'm done eating," She looks to Vick. "I'll be in the foundry if you need me." Sena takes her leave while holding her left elbow, gripping the arm warmers. Her anxiety always gives her away. Vick and Keel may need to do a sweep of her things; to be confident and safe, that she is not rolling.

Desmond, Gordon, and Keel join her as they leave. They stop at the hallway entrance to talk with Alic at the generators.

"Well, they ate fast," Vick says.

Cecil sits back, full of food. "This was so good."

Vick turns to look at Cecil. "You ate too fast!" he says, still halfway through his first plate.

"You have some--" Kurinne says, pointing to her face as she tells Cecil.

Cecil looks at Kurinne and sees the left side of her face where she is pointing. Cecil wipes off the left side of his face with his napkin.

"No, the other side. The right side."

Cecil wipes off his right cheek. He struggles to return the same smile Kurinne gives him.

"I have reports to grade, so you all be safe. Dad, I'm staying out of the expansion tonight." Maela says.

"You and your mother," Grean says.

"Oh, there is no way I want to watch you all get killed," Laela says.

Renee politely excuses herself, "Excuse me." She takes her dishes to the cart, then marches out of the dining hall. Reifa joins Renee. Buraldin calls them to wait up, but he can't leave the table; he is the elder. Not until everyone finishes their meal and puts their dishes on the cart.

Maela excuses herself, but not before offering Kurinne her wheelchair.

Brilando is quick to pass by and offer to take any dishes. Before he knew it, he was carrying ten plates and four bowls in a stack.

Carr excuses himself so he can clean the kitchen. "I'll be done here shortly, and head to the expansi-on," a hiccup escapes him. He stumbles out of the booth. "Aw, fuck." He swiftly ducks below Cassidy's heated glare. How she somehow heard him from across the noisy cafeteria makes all the quips about rabbits and their ears correct.

Andesto gets busy scrubbing down the first vacated table. Two of his little siblings remain behind to help him. Kiistavo is beneath the table, sweeping the floor while Janice cleans the chairs. Andesto watches Carr stumble over to the kitchen, drunk as can be. Andesto's eyes trail back to the booth. He sees Vick scooting to the edge of his seat.

Vick takes a look over the dining hall and sees Andesto staring. He holds up his middle finger at Andesto, letting his little brother know precisely how he feels about him and his incest. He mouths the words, Fuck You.

Andesto lowers his head and scrubs harder, wiping tears away before they fall.

Vick downs the remaining blackberry cider before he excuses himself. "I'll get the pulley and rope ready."

"You have those new lamps, right?" Grean asks.

"Oh, yes. I made sure they were fueled during my class." Vick says, standing up to take his leave.

"Good work, Son."

"I'm going to help Vick get his equipment ready. I canceled my evening lesson." Cecil says.

"Good, I'll head in soon to help," Grean says. He will undoubtedly need a shot of whiskey first, the cider was delicious, but it did not do a damn thing to him.

When Cecil leaves the dining hall, Marcosh and Garrett stop him in the long hallway and pull him to a private corner. "Hey? What's up?"

Garrett, for once without his pot helmet on, points his stick down the hall. "Your _girlfriend_just kissed Marcosh on his cheek to gain entry! She's in your chamber."

"I don't have a girlfriend."

Marcosh blushes while squirming where he stands.

"Fauna? She's here?" Cecil asks with frustration, not wanting to deal with her right now. He thought she finished with visiting since Cecil made it clear he is utterly uninterested in marriage.

"She says she shall lull about forlornly until you complete the mission," Marcosh says, wiggling his nose around and blushing something fierce. Must have been quite a greeting because his cheek is matted upwards from his neck to his brow.

Cecil cannot help but wiggle his nose back. "Just my luck," he says, looking down the dark hall. His den has become a dungeon, and somewhere in this dungeon is a lurking, lustful monster that he finds it near impossible to say 'No.'

"My eldest of brothers. Go dive into the chasm, and after that, dive into Fauna." Marcosh means into her arms, but he does not spell it out for Cecil. He holds his arms out, hugging an invisible Fauna. He assumes his older brother understands what he means, but then he adds, "She is evidently planning on exhausting herself a lust-worthy indecency this evening." Marcosh impersonally says without shame, further elaborating that he does mean for Cecil to have sex with her. He says it so casually, as though reciting his words. He poorly attempts to wink at his brother when Cecil looks to him with one brow higher than the other. The body language and failed attempt at Marcosh's tone utterly falls short of any sense of charm.

Cecil finds it creepy that his twelve-year-old brother is giving him such blunt advice in his weird way of speaking. Whoever Marcosh learns this language from is going to get in deep trouble.

"How do you dive into someone?" Garrett asks.

"Uhh," Cecil and Marcosh both start saying. They look at each other and then down to Garrett, both of them regretting Marcosh's choice of words.

"Marcosh just meant that when I'm done with the dive, that I go give Fauna a hug," Cecil says.

Garrett's ears slowly fall back as he leans forward and speaks with a pleasant tone, hugging himself when he swirls his body around, "You mean the _looooove_hug?" He purses his tongue to blow a kiss at Cecil.

Cecil stares at Garrett with somewhat dreadful eyes. He slowly walks backward, away from the two of them. "Where, or, who are you both learning this from?" He shakes his head. "No, I don't want to know. Thank you for letting her in and telling me--" Cecil stops speaking while some of his brothers walk by.

Loxacael, Marke, Norta, and Yeelan pass by Cecil to join Baendile and Huratte to let them know they can stop pedaling the generator and eat.

"Again, thank you both for telling me. Now I won't be surprised when I get to my room tonight." Cecil says as he takes his leave.

Garrett and Marcosh return to the hatch.

Sidd comes in from the dining hall and finds a seat on the couch to continue his daily reading. He does not acknowledge his brothers as the two continue to whisper to one another.

"If Cecil faults once more in obtaining Fauna's ankle, do you fathom me to offer a potential contingency?" Marcosh asks Garrett.

"Marrying Cecil?" Garrett asks with a grin. He finds it impossible to follow his brother.

"No, I meant Fauna--stop messing with me!" Marcosh stares when he sees that big dumb smirk on Garrett's face, so he tries to match it.

"I don't know. Isn't she like, fifteen years older than you?"

"A decade, near even. I propose it amidst all due intentions. Do you gather Fauna would receive me a viable source for surrogate romance?"

Garrett shrugs. "I don't know. Shouldn't you go for someone your age? Not someone twice your age?"

Marcosh hisses at the thought. "Girls my age are dumb. They don't have those," Marcosh grins like a fool as he holds his hands up to grasp invisible orbs. "Those macromastial gifts on their chest," he says as his fingers tantalize the air in front of him.

Sidd sighs with disappointment from behind his book. "I'm all about the hips, but do get in line behind Vick and Rhy. They fall over themselves for Fauna."

Marcosh poses. "They stand not a wager against this buck. I produce plenty of virile seed, and I will gladly gift her the noble title. Marcosh shall acquire that mammary set and the fertile wanton goddess who possesses them."

"You use dumb words even when you're a pervert. Do you even know what you're saying?" Sidd says, feigning exhaustion.

Garrett gives his older brother a pitiful look as he reaffirms his pot helmet to his head. "You're weird, Marcosh. Why do you like her chest-butt? Animalia fart from butts. Fauna farts from the front and back. She's a stinky-stink!"

Marcosh slaps the back of Garrett's head, flipping his brother's stovetop helmet up. "You fiend!"

Garrett catches his helmet before it falls off. "OW! Why'd you hit me!" Garrett rubs the back of his head before crowning himself with the pot.

"They're called tits, Garrett, and you proclaim yourself a grown-up Alpha Buck?!" Marcosh exclaims, crossing his arms and averting away from his baby brother. "I cannot bear to look at you; you're no Alpha Buck."

"I'm only four!" Garrett whines. He turns away from Marcosh, pouting in his soldierly stance.