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Escaping the Storm: Part 3

A brisk walk through further into the city centre carried Erik to a nearby department store just minutes before closing. He'd had no intention of heading here upon leaving work, but with a family of Polcians now in tow, he couldn't head home without first picking up some much needed supplies.

Time restrictions aside, Erik made the stop off as swift as possible; the experience of riding in his backpack not one he wished to inflict upon his guests any longer than necessary.

Back on the out on the street, he mostly succeeded in keeping things steady and protecting the pouch containing them from any heavy bumps and knocks. The subway ride home however would prove to be a bigger challenge.

"Are you still okay in there," Erik muttered, leaning over to his bag resting in the next seat.

"We're all okay," Pieter's muffled voice confirmed, moments before the train began to slow ahead of the next station. "It's a little rough with nothing to hang to, but still not too bad. Cushioning is helping, also. Honestly, forgetting the lack of seating, this is probably not too far away from riding in the Polcian section of the train below."

"Good. That's good." He made a quick scan of the seats around them, ensuring they remained empty. "If it does get to be too much, let me know. It's only a few stops to our station."

"Okay... Thank you, Erik."

Erik rested back in his seat, beaming bright enough that it could have illuminated the near-deserted subway car. The only other riders, a lanky fox sporting a blue-tipped fauxhawk and an older, business-suited bear sat at the opposite end of the carriage, well beyond earshot. He thanked his lucky stars, wondering just how difficult his task would have proved if set during the frenetic pace of rush hour.

With a satisfied groan, Erik stretched his legs towards the row of seats across the aisle. In doing so, his eyes quickly found the line of ads plastered above the opposite window. Most were standard, forgettable, though one in particular succeeded in attracting his attention.

'A 16% unemployment rate is unacceptable - No more job cuts under our leadership!'

The red-texted message stood out boldly against its white background. Many ads like this had sprung up in recent weeks, none of which found favour with the young leopard.

Even if the latter part of that message appealed, the tagline that followed showed just why he so despised the party responsible for it.

'Polcian favouritism stops here - Velika for Velikans first! This election, vote Velikan Progress Union!'

"Fucking VPU," Erik grumbled. "I'd vote for anyone ahead of you."

He knew better than most the kind of people that supported them: sizeist xenophobes more than happy to scapegoat others over their own problems. So, to know that this formerly fringe, almost comical party had begun to win an increasingly large following among the most disillusioned proved unsettling. If this could happen over the course of a few short years, what would it spell for those to come?

"Two months... in just two months, these sizeist pricks could be in power... Stars above, don't let that happen."

So focused on his thoughts, Erik soon drifted off into distraction. Nothing around him on the deserted train could threaten to pull him back; not the carriage stopping with a jolt at the station, the subsequent parting of its doors, nor the portly wolf lurching aboard and heading his way.

"Hey, stop!" Erik screamed, noticing just in time that same passenger about to lower himself into the next seat. He snatched up his bag with lightning reflexes, scowling all the while. "What the hell are you doing!?"

"I did not see it!" came his startled reply, hovering there halfway between sitting and standing.

"Well, pay more attention next time."

"If it is so precious, why leave it on a seat in the first place!?"

"What!?" That only irked Erik further, intensifying his scowl to become a hateful snarl. "Don't you see all these other empty seats? Why sit here, in the one right fucking next to me!?"

The large wolf growled, but backed down from arguing any further. He stomped off loudly down the aisle, dropping his frame into a seat at the other end of the car.

For a split second, Erik felt fortunate that the confrontation hadn't escalated after allowing his emotions to run away with him. Considering the size difference between not only them, but also those riding in his backpack, only then did he realise how bad things could have ended.

"Everything okay, Erik?" His ears flicked to Pieter's whispering. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing." He settled the bag on his lap, making sure to keep it upright. To his added relief, arguing in his native Velikan appeared to have kept the family from knowing the peril they'd been rescued from. "Are you all still okay?"

"Still fine! ...You're sure nothing's wrong? What was all the shouting about?"

"Nothing... Just... some moron." Erik clasped the sides of his bag firm. Regardless of where the blame lied, he knew he'd have to be more careful in the future. "Don't worry. We'll be home soon."

The passing of another half hour gave Erik time to make it all the way back to the south of the city. Here, among street after street of tightly-knit worker homes, sat his; a small, two-storey townhouse set at the end of a long terrace row.

Darkness dominated the hallway as he moved inside. His mother had secured some much need overtime at work that week, leaving Erik the task of fixing dinner. Of course, he'd allocated himself something of far greater importance since they'd come to that arrangement. Dinner prep would have to wait until he'd helped his guests settle in their new home.

"How did you know where to find all of this, Erik?"

He looked back from the corner of his bedroom, resting on paws and knees from where he'd been working on the family's new quarters. Pieter, along with his wife, son and daughter, sat patiently upon a blanket covering the wooden floor beside Erik's bed. "Remember? I have friends who have invited Polcians to stay before."

"You... really didn't have to go to this trouble... this expense."

"Oh, don't feel guilty. This was neither of those." He turned back to the corner, settling to sit with crossed legs. "I think it's ready now. I hope the wait wasn't too much."

"Not at all," Pieter responded, moving cautiously with his family from their blanket and towards the freshly-built structure awaiting them. "In fact... It looks to have been well worth it."

An old box that contained a toaster his mother purchased last month sat open, on its side to leave the top invitingly open. Inside, it housed three small sections of padding arranged atop some old video game cases, covered by freshly-cut squares of fabric to form a set of makeshift beds. He'd also left a couple of far smaller, empty boxes there, intending them be used as surfaces and storage compartments as needed.

"It's... not much, really," Erik declared, almost apologetic. "In fact... I wish I could have offered more."

"I think it is wonderful." He peered down to Karin, hearing her voice for the first time since leaving the alleyway. "You have done a great job."

"Why... thank you."

"I agree," Pieter stated, padding with far greater enthusiasm past Erik's crossed legs to stand before their new sleeping area. "Besides, what more could you have offered?"

Erik shrugged. "I suppose... just more. It seems so empty."

"There are beds, places for us to store clothes." The little ferret's tail wagged with intensity, following him inside. "A place for us to set up the battery lamp we picked up last week. We can even store the drinks and packets of food we brought with us here. Tell me, what more could we need?" He looked to the right-hand wall, spotting the rectangular section of cardboard that had been half cut away. "Is that a door?"

"It is... kind of." Erik brightened. "I'm curious, can you make it through okay?"

Pieter travelled the few paces to cross the box, grabbing the side of the improvised doorway.

"Let me know if it's tough to move, I can help."

He strained and began to heave, groans starting and soon growing louder. After a few long seconds of work, the door finally swung outwards.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." Pieter looked up, panting but smiling triumphantly. "It's a little stiff." He wobbled the cardboard panel with both paws. "It'll be fine. A few uses and it'll loosen for sure."

With the door now open, Pieter didn't hesitate in disappearing through into the next room. "Oh... wow!"

"I hoped for a reaction like that. You like it?"

"I was curious about this! I saw you arrange this big white box next to our room... but I had no idea."

"What is it, Piet?" Karin called from outside, moving with their equally intrigued children away from Erik.

"There's a whole bathroom in here. Toilet, shower, everything. Come, look!"

They did so, padding into their sleeping area first, then through the still open doorway. From there, the conversation soon turned to their native Meerlander.

Even if he couldn't understand them, the excitable voices echoing out from that opaque, white box left Erik grinning wildly.

"This must have been expensive." Pieter reemerged, bringing himself back out onto the hardwood floor of the bedroom proper. "And now I really do feel guilty... Why would you do all this, just for a family of Polcians you barely know?"

"It wasn't that much at all, really. Even with replaceable and refillable parts, it's only built to be temporary." Erik's grin eased into a sheepish smile, adjusting for comfort while remaining sat cross-legged. "Besides, being smaller usually means Polcian items are cheap--more affordable."

"It will be a huge help," Karin chirped, still standing at the edge of their cardboard quarters. "We had nothing like this available to us at the supermarket, only the staff shower room in the evenings."

"I'm happy to help." Erik beamed, watching the family gather before him. Even with what he could offer, he knew they still faced a difficult task in order to live here. At their stature, they'd need need a lot of help around the house. They'd not be able to move between floors, to get themselves a proper meal, or even go outside alone.

'This is going to be tougher than I thought...'

A reflective quietness descended upon Erik's room. Only the winds rattling the window above his bed behind him broke the silence, growing louder as they strengthened.

"Now I'm really starting to feel glad to be here," Pieter huffed with relief. "I can't remember the last time the weather was this bad."

"I can't either," Erik replied, turning to the window as the first spatters of rain hit. "I don't think staying outside in this would have been so fun." He peered back down, eyes first finding Anika, the eldest child, standing with arms tightly folded. She didn't seem as moody as back in the alley, but came awfully close. The youngest stood equally quiet, clasping his mother's paw while scanning the room with a great deal more interest than his sister.

"I think we should try to get to know each other a little better," Erik declared, focusing upon the teen. "We didn't really speak before, when we first met."

She looked up with a measure less hostility than last time. "My name's Anika. Those are my parents. That's my brother."

"Hello, Anika." He refused to let her bluntness derail things. "My name's Erik."

"I know that."

"Anika," Pieter rumbled warningly.

Erik's smile wavered, but he persisted. "How old are you? Do you go to high school?"

"Fifteen," She groaned, rolling her eyes deliberately. With another grunt directed at the rest of her family, Anika stormed off towards their new sleeping area.

"Anika!" her father roared, though it fell on deaf ears. She marched without hesitation into the box, fast moving from Erik's view as he sat there with ears dipped.

"I... didn't wish to offend."

"It's okay," Karin answered. "This was not your doing. I will go and speak with her." She delicately guided her son's paw to his father's, moving to follow their daughter out of sight.

Erik clasped his own, rolling and rubbing them together. His eyes flashed to the youngest ferret, still visibly nervous, but at the same time captivated by his new, far larger surroundings.

"Hi there," he stated, smiling softly. If he couldn't win Anika around, perhaps her brother might prove more forthcoming. "What's your name?"

The boy didn't answer, but neither did he duck away.

"It's okay," Pieter stated, gently swinging his son's arm back and forth. "You can answer."

Erik's eyes widened; the smallest ferret's half-step forward a sudden, unexpected development.

"I'm Thijs."

He recoiled unconsciously, brow furrowing while his smile rose to become a delighted smirk. "That's a funny name. I have never heard of it before."

"It's not funny!" the youngster cried indignantly. "Lotsa guys have my name!"

"None in Velika, I think." Erik folded his arms, turning away with eyes closed in mock dismissiveness. "It sounds very silly to me."

Thijs flashed a precocious grin. "Nuh, you_sound silly to _me!" He reached out and batted at his host's shin, much to his father's shock.

"Thijs, no--!"

Erik flashed Pieter a toothy smile, raising a paw to settle any worry before it could begin.

"Say it!" The little ferret cried. "I betcha can't say my name! None of you bigs can."

That set his eyes widening all over again, silently accepting the claim as being very likely. "T...Taze?"

"No!" Thijs squeaked, giggling unashamedly. "Say it like this. 'Taice'."

"T-Tice."

"Well..." He dragged out his reply, clearly reveling in the position he'd placed Erik. "I guess that'll hafta do."

"Good." Erik lowered his face a little closer. "It's nice to meet you, Thijs."

"You too, Erik!"

Resisting his doubts, he reached out a finger to ruffle his youngest guest's dark brown head ruff.

"Hey!"

Erik pulled away instinctively, but found an excitable Thijs grabbing and squeezing at him.

"Doncha mess up my fur!"

He bellowed with laughter, leaving his paw hanging to be played with.

"He's always so nervous around new people, Velikans even more so," Pieter explained, skinny tail wagging lazily. "At the same time, he is quick to relax. When he knows he can trust someone... Well, after this, you have Thijs."

"I can see." Erik watched the youngster grapple with his fingers, flicking them minutely to offer playful resistance. "If that's so, then I'm very glad that he's been able to trust me so quickly."

"Hey, Erik?" Thijs called, wrapping both arms around his index finger. "Do you go to school? How old are you?"

"I don't." He smiled back warmly. "I work at the supermarket with your father. And, I'm twenty."

"That's really old!"

"Old?"

"Yeah!"

"I suppose it is... in a way." Erik snorted, amazed and heartened by Thijs' almost blind confidence. "So, what about you? What's your age?"

"Nine," came the response, with the a hurried addition of, "but s'my birthday soon!"

"Wow, ten is pretty old, too. Double figures!"

"It is!" Thijs stated proudly. He released Erik's finger, looking thoughtful for the moment before his next question came. "Do you have any brothers or sisters?"

"I..." Erik slowly pulled his paw away, bringing it to rest in his lap with the other. "I have an older brother. Yuri."

"Where is he?"

"He..."

"Does he live here?"

"N-No, he... moved away."

"Oh." Thijs paused, but his expression told that this would last only until he found another question to ask. "Will he visit? Will we see him, too?"

"Probably not," Erik groaned through gritted teeth. The probing had grown uncomfortable, yet he didn't have the heart to stop it. "Definitely not, in fact."

"Why?"

"Thijs." Thankfully, Pieter sensed his unease. "Stop it now."

"But why?" Thijs moaned disappointedly, turning to his father. "I just wanna know why we won't see him?"

"He... lives very far away." Erik saw the youngster's curious brown eyes return their focus, compelling him to answer truthfully. "You see, my brother did some bad things... He is in prison now."

"I'm sorry, Erik," Pieter grumbled, grasping at a clump of his tan-coloured head fur. "Thijs... he is so eager."

"It's okay... It's not as if it's a secret."

Karin reemerged from their cardboard room, her timing impeccable in stopping that line of conversation dead.

"How's Anika?" Pieter asked, moving to close the gap between them.

"She'll be okay. She just needs a little time... to adjust, to get used to things."

"I'm sorry if I upset her." Erik looked down into his lap, fidgeting with his paws. "I really didn't intend for this--"

"No, it's not you, Erik," Karin answered hastily. She turned back to her husband, continuing with the conversation in their local tongue.

Their hurried, whispered tones proved unsettling, though not as much as being excluded from the discussion at hand by the language barrier. 'I guess this is what most Polcians here feel like when we speak Velikan.'

"Please excuse the Meerlander again," Pieter said apologetically, returning his focus upwards. "Understand that Anika... she..."

"It's okay. Both that and your language." His long tail flicked and cracked against the wooden flooring behind him. "I understand that she is having difficulty with... all of this."

"Hey, Erik. What's that?"

He snapped his head right in response to the inquisitive cry. Thijs stood a short distance from the base of his bed, apparently able to have slinked off there without notice. "Huh?"

"That." The little ferret gestured up Erik's bedside table.

He followed Thijs' pointing, all the way up to the surface top above. Sitting along with his alarm clock, his fur brush and several other small items left discarded, Erik found what must surely have gained the youngster's interest. "Oh, this?"

He slowly pushed himself up to stand, taking careful strides over to and past Thijs to sit at the head of his bed. Reaching towards the side table, Erik plucked up the white-painted statue that found its home there.

"What is it?"

He held it with an open paw, wiping away some of the dust that had collected upon the wooden, feline-modelled figurine. "This is an old toy of mine."

"A toy?" Thijs peered up from the floor, his tail flitting about excitedly.

"That's right." Erik leaned forwards with a smile, lowering the statue to stand upright upon the floor. "Here, have a look."

"It's big!" The young ferret strolled forwards, investigating a figure he stood barely waist-height with. "Hey, Dad. This is bigger than you even!"

"It is?" Pieter called back, smirking as both he and Karin made the short walk towards them. "Huh... Well, maybe a little."

"Erik, it's the same colour as you, too." Thijs pushed at one of the black-spotted, white arms, forcing the wired joints of its elbow and shoulder to flex and move. "That's cool!"

"Yes," he chuckled cheerfully. "I painted this myself."

"You did!?" The youngster unleashed a loud giggle of delight, bouncing around as he batted and shoved firmer. "It looks good!"

"Thank you." Erik reached down to hold his figurine in place. "You see, this was one of the last presents my father got me, back when I was only a little older than you are.

"Oh... Is he in prison, too?"

"Thijs!" yelled his mother, causing him to jolt in shock.

Erik snickered, smiling before looking down at him with a sigh. "No, he isn't... I don't think... I haven't seen him for years."

Silence crept back into the room, threatening to last far longer this time round. At least, it did so until the dull thud of the front door being unlocked downstairs sounded. "Ah. My mother is home."

"Erik!?" came the shrieking cry, just as he set foot upon the lowest step of the staircase. "Why have you not started dinner?"

"You see--"

"It is past eight and nothing has been done!"

Erik bit his tongue, padding straight on through the arch that led into the kitchen.

"I have said to you time and time again, it would be good if I could rely on you when I have to work late." His mother threw open one of the kitchen cabinet doors, not once looking back at him. "I am busy enough with everything there and I do not wish for more to do when I finally get home!"

"I know, Ma, but--"

"I understand you are busy, also, but to expect me to clean up after and cook for you after almost twelve hours of work!?" She slammed the door closed again, spinning to glare across the room at him with spotted white paws on hips. "This is asking far too much--"

"Ma, I'm sorry!" He huffed and dipped his muzzle down towards his paws. "Something came up."

The rain still dripped from his mother's soggy coat as she glared back, an expression that eased once she found what her son held in his grasp.

Using the plastic tray he'd left in his room from dinner the previous evening, Erik carried the family of ferrets over to the dining table set halfway between the archway and his mother.

"Erik... what is going on here?" She kept to their native Velikan, doing little to hide her confusion. "Just why are there Polcians here in our home?"

He eased Pieter and his family down to the tabletop, sitting himself down before replying, "It's... quite the story."

His mother folded her arms. "And I would quite like to hear it."

Erik peered down to the tray, noticing that all four of his guests had moved to stand upon the table proper. "I found them after work. They were living behind the supermarket."

"What?" Her expression softened as she approached the table. "On the street?"

He nodded, waiting until his mother had lowered herself into the seat opposite before answering, in Polcian, "Ma, I'd like you to meet Pieter and his family. He works at the supermarket, too."

"But... you said they lived there?"

"That's correct," Pieter confirmed meekly, standing upon the wooden surface with arms rigid against his sides.

"I... I am confused."

"Please," He took a deep breath before continuing. "Allow me to explain, Mrs..."

She peered down with gentle, green eyes, giving a short shake of the head before again responding in her less-than-perfect Polcian. "I-I... Mrs. Lukina, but... call me Tanya, please."

"Tanya," he echoed with a growing smile. "Nice to meet you."

Getting those awkward introductions out of the way gave everyone the chance to relax at least a little. Pieter's posture loosened, while Tanya, clearly still shocked by the family of Polcians settled atop her table, slowly leaned towards them.

"S-So," she stammered, still hesitant over the language of conversation, the situation at hand, or both. "Just... what has brought you into my home?"

Pieter took it upon himself to fill Tanya in on their recent experiences. For the next few minutes, he explained, in basic Polcian, how Erik had discovered him roaming the alleyway and witnessed the makeshift shelter they'd called home. He went on to repeat the story he'd told Erik, about just how and why they'd ended up leaving the Polcian district to live rough to begin with.

Tanya remained quiet throughout, though Erik could tell from her brightening eyes that this story of hardship had begun to pull at her heartstrings.

By the end of the tale, and the formal introductions Pieter had made to the rest of his family, the wide, sympathetic smile she offered all but confirmed her warming to them.

"I am so very sorry." Tanya clasped her paws together, watching over the family now sitting upon a length of fabric provided by Erik during the conversation. "To hear these things that happened... I am feeling so very sad for you."

"There's no need to be sad," Pieter answered brightly. "We're okay."

"No, this is true, and for this I am glad." Tanya gestured to the room around them. "We cannot offer much for you, but you may stay for as long as is needed."

Erik's ears flicked to his mother's statement, silently delighted that she'd taken to their now confirmed guests so readily.

"Thank you so much!" Karin responded, taking her husband's paw. "That is very kind of you. It means a lot."

"Does that mean I don't hafta share a bed with Anika no more?" Thijs asked bluntly, prompting Erik to snicker in response. "I hated that."

"It does," Pieter confirmed with a grin. "I'm sure your sister will be happy, too."

They all turned to Anika, sitting apart from her family in typically stoic fashion. Tanya, too, looked to the quiet teen, slowly cocking her head before asking, "Is all okay?"

She offered a curt nod in reply, not waiting long to stare back off into the distance.

"We... have all had a long, stressful day," Karin stated, gaze flicking to her daughter with a sad frown. "A little rest and all will be better."

"This I can understand," Tanya answered, her bright, green eyes creasing with a smile. "Food I am thinking can help also."

"That would be great." Pieter's rounded ears perked up. "If it's not a problem."

"Of course is no problem!" She looked to Erik, gesturing back with her head towards the stove. "You will not get out of this so easy."

"What?"

"You promised you would cook, so cook you will."

"Fine, I guess I did," he grumbled, hauling himself out of his seat.

"It will be nice to have a properly cooked meal." Pieter muttered to no one in particular. "Living on packaged foods and a camping stove for weeks... That wasn't much fun."

Erik's head dipped guiltily. Suddenly, he didn't feel so bad over having to prepare dinner any longer.

Truth be told, the task of cooking never posed a threat of being too taxing. The large pot of bean and pasta soup, prepared by his mother earlier that week, sat waiting in the refrigerator for Erik to heat up. That, plus the task of cutting and buttering some of his favourite, traditional Velikan black bread meant the whole exercise took barely ten minutes.

The trickiest part came upon serving. As part of the supplies he'd picked up that evening, Erik had a set of Polcian-sized bowls and utensils available to him. Even so, the task of cutting up and serving Velikan-sized chunks of vegetables, white beans and macaroni into said dishes proved a surprisingly difficult and messy challenge.

"Here," he declared mutedly, holding the four bottlecap-sized bowls upon his palm pad. "I hope this is okay. There is more if you wish for seconds." Erik couldn't offer the family proper furnishings, but the length of fabric he'd provided them at least allowed some degree of comfort while they ate. "We'll work out something better soon for you, something that looks more like actual seating."

"This is just fine," Pieter replied, taking one of the bowls, along with a chunk of the thick, buttery black bread. "You have done so much in such a short time. Thank you."

"You're welcome." He brightened ten-fold at the approval, handing out the rest of the food to his guests before serving himself and his mother.

Even with Pieter's positivity, Erik couldn't help focus on the effort required to serve him and his family. While the size differences never proved a huge issue in this instance, it still made Erik wonder just how much of one they'd pose in other situations.

"I can't help feel that it could be difficult for you all to live here."

"Oh?" Pieter looked up from the bowl resting atop his lap, placing his spoon down next to a chunk of macaroni he'd just sliced in half. "You mean in your home? Why do you say this?"

"Our home, not so much. That will be tricky, but... I was thinking more outside of the house."

Tanya, too, lowered her spoon, peering down gently to their guests to chime in herself. "It would be hard for you, for any Polcian, to travel from here. No little paths in this part of city. No way for you to get to bus stop, even to train station around corner."

"But it'll be okay," Erik added, jumping in before their guests could get too concerned. "We can help you. You'll not be trapped here."

"Thank you." Karin answered, beaming brightly. "That means so much, but... you cannot do it all, and we wouldn't expect you to. For example, in the last few weeks, I used to travel with Thijs and Anika to the central station on their way to school, to see them off on the connecting train that runs to the Polcian district." She turned to her son and daughter with growing resignation. "Really, I cannot expect you to take and to pick me up from the station each time, even if it is close."

"You're right," Erik answered despondently, sharing a look of regret with his mother. "That would be difficult for us on most days, because of work." He worked quickly to keep the mood positive. "Still, we can at least take you all to the local station, let Thijs and Anika go alone from there in the morning and pick them up in the afternoon."

"Will you have time?" Karin's posture straightened. "To do this in the morning and afternoon?"

He hesitated for a moment. "I can do it when I'm not at work... That is one day from five."

"And I can do the others," his mother cut in. "It is normal that I work just mornings. With station close, it will not be a problem for me to be here, to help pick them up when needed."

"Great," Erik cried, looking to Thijs with a grin. "Looks like you'll still be able to go to school."

"Really?" the youngster murmured, lightly tossing what remained of his bread into the half-eaten bowl of soup beside him. "Aww."

The family took a short moment to digest that proposition on top of their meal. Clearly, it sat as the only realistic option available to them; a fact that they soon realised.

"That's a very kind offer," Karin stated, smiling apprehensively before turning to both Thijs and Anika. "Would you both feel happy to do that? To travel alone from the station here, into the city and then on to the district for school?"

The pair appeared no less anxious than their mother. Even so, Anika could offer a confident nod in response. "I can get us both there. There's not much need to deal with Velikans in the Polcian area of the city trains. None at all on the district train after that."

That answer allowed Karin's face to lighten, as did Pieter's words of reassurance. "See, all will be fine. They can do this, so we can do this, too."

"Thank you, again." She returned her focus back up to Erik. "It will be so much effort for you, though."

"Perhaps... some, but it must be done. With the lack of Polcian facilities in this area, there's no way around it."

"You see, Erik, this is why we need to get home." Pieter picked himself up and started across the table. "Your offer, what you have done for us in such a short space of time, it proves there are some wonderfully warm, kind-hearted people here... But, unless you're in the districts, living in the Polcian bubble, it's incredibly hard for people like us to live in Velika... even more so in recent times."

It didn't take Erik long to determine just what Pieter referred to with that. In fact, the very same thing likely explained Karin's apprehension over not escorting their children at least part way to school. "About the protests," he muttered quietly, keeping the conversation between themselves. "Will Thijs and Anika be okay alone? Maybe we can try to think up another plan."

"They have been up until now, on the occasions they've had to travel alone." Pieter gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "Besides, can you think up another way for them to be taken all the way to the other side of Kremensk?" He took the silence to serve as an answer. "Exactly. When all is said and done, we cannot stop living our lives just because a minority of people are unhappy with us being here. When that happens, it's time for every Polcian to pack up and leave for home."

"Okay," Erik answered forcefully, boosted by Pieter's sheer resolve. "We'll help you through this. We'll do what we can to make your time here as simple and as pleasant as possible. Once you're back on your feet, we can work towards getting you all back home to Polcia."

He extended a finger, to which Pieter reached to clasp and shake firmly. "Thank you, Erik. That means a lot."