Morning light filtered through the Airstream's small windows, casting warm rectangles across the aluminum interior. I opened my eyes slowly, consciousness returning in gradual waves as I stared at the curved ceiling above me. For a blissful, disorienting moment, I thought I was back home—in my grandfather’s RV, in my own world, the horrors of cartel drowning, System resurrection and questionable pradavarians nothing more than a fading, utterly absurd dream.

  Then I registered the weight pressing against both sides of my body.

  Reality reasserted itself as I turned my head slightly, finding Nessy's sleeping form curled against my right side, her black and white fur illuminated by the morning light, making her look almost ethereal. Her nose twitched in sleep, chasing dream scents, one paw draped possessively across my chest. Her pink dog-paw nightgown had rumpled, sliding slightly off her right shoulder to reveal her curves.

  I turned my head.

  On my left lay Krysanthea, her feathers catching the light in fantastic, iridescent patterns of green and violet. In sleep, the raptor's usually severe expression had softened, her features relaxed into something almost peaceful. She had moved considerably closer during the night, her scaled body now pressed fully against mine as if she was still trying to escape the time-looped dungeon.

  As I focused on them and thought about our pack bond, something strange happened.

  Silver lines—like gossamer threads spun from moonlight—became visible, connecting me to each of them. The strands pulsed with gentle rhythm, somehow reminiscent of heartbeats. From me to Nessy, the threads were thick and vibrant, weaving a complex pattern that glowed with steady intensity. The connection to Krysanthea was thinner, newer, but already strengthening as I watched, tiny tendrils extending and interlacing with each pulse.

  While I was contemplating this bizarre vision, Nessy stirred beside me, seemingly noticing that I was trying to stare into our connection. Her blue eyes blinked open, immediately finding mine with unerring focus. A smile spread across her muzzle, her tail beginning its morning wag.

  "Morning, packmate," she whispered, her voice husky with sleep.

  Before I could respond, she stretched upward, delivering a long, affectionate tongue swipe from chin to forehead that left a damp trail in its wake that made me shudder. Then she nuzzled against my side, her warm breath tickling my neck as she inhaled deeply.

  "Sleep well?" I asked quietly, trying not to disturb the still-slumbering raptor.

  "Mmhmm," Nessy nodded, her ears perking forward. "Absolutivetately! I have the best dreams when I’m with my syn-pack."

  Her gaze drifted across me, landing on Krysanthea's sleeping form. Her expression shifted subtly, ears flattening momentarily before she controlled the reaction. She pursed her lips, studying the raptor with a mixture of wariness. Then, she sniffed Kristi with something that might have been reluctant acceptance.

  Then, as if making a point to herself, she deliberately licked my face again, this one slower and more thorough than the first. A statement of territorial claim, perhaps, or simply reassurance to herself.

  "So," I whispered, raising an eyebrow at her, wiping my face. "How do you feel about our... expanded pack situation?"

  Nessy's ears twitched, her head tilting as she considered the question. "Honestly?" she whispered back. "Some part of me is still pretty hurt by what she and her family did—driving that wedge between you and me all those years ago, making me feel like I wasn't good enough."

  She sighed, her breath warm against my neck.

  "But I'm a forgiving doggo," she continued, tail giving a tentative wag. "And I'm dedicated to what's best for the pack. If you want to keep a raptor, then I shall tolerate her presence."

  "Keep a raptor?" I echoed, amused by her phrasing.

  "You know what I mean," she huffed softly. "I understand the necessity in adopting my nemesis. Leaving her out in the wild as an active element would be dangerous—for her, for us, for everyone. She's definitely broken in ways that need attention and without her on our side her family will put all sorts of spikes in our wheels."

  Her gaze softened slightly as she looked at the sleeping Krysanthea. "And I guess after losing the same person, we might actually have something in common."

  Shocking me completely, Nessy carefully stretched out across my chest, extending her muzzle toward the raptor. Before I could stop her, she delivered a quick, gentle lick to Krysanthea's scaled neck.

  The effect was immediate and dramatic. Krysanthea's eyes snapped open, amber irises contracting to slits as she jerked upright with a startled hiss. Her emerald and violet feathers fluffed outward in alarm, making her head appear nearly twice its normal size.

  "What the—?!" she sputtered, wiping at her crest in horror. "Did you just—?!"

  "Morning ritual!" Nessy declared cheerfully. "I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm not at all sorry!"

  Without waiting for the raptor's inevitable explosion, she bounced off the bed with dogged agility, her tail wagging as she darted toward the bathroom. "First dibs on bathroomery!" she called over her shoulder, closing the door behind her with a click.

  Krysanthea and I were left staring at each other in the sudden silence. The raptor looked significantly less intimidating in her borrowed, pink "I ?? U" shirt, her feathers disheveled from sleep, her usual composure notably absent.

  "So," she said after a moment, her voice strained with embarrassment. "That happened."

  I couldn't help but chuckle at her discomfort. "Yes, it did. How do you feel now that you’ve actually slept?"

  She straightened, attempting to reassemble her dignity like armor.

  "Rested," she admitted reluctantly after a deep pause. "But I also feel like I've let myself slide too far into fraternization and impropriety." She rubbed her temple, scowling. "If I hadn't been so exhausted from lack of sleep, none of this would have happened."

  "You needed it," I pointed out.

  "Perhaps," she conceded, attempting to smooth her rumpled feathers back into place with her claws.

  I studied her for a moment. "Do you regret your party application? Joining the pack?"

  Krysanthea's expression sobered.

  "No," she said firmly. "Ferguson needs every advantage it can get. We need the extra-human muscle to survive against what's out there and to help clear the local dungeon." Her claws flexed unconsciously. "It's a strategic alliance that makes perfect sense."

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  "But?"

  "But I would prefer not to deal with a clingy, invasive, intellectually challenged canine," she finished, her voice pitched deliberately loud enough to carry.

  From behind the bathroom door came an immediate response: "I can hear you, lizard-brain! And just so we’re clear—the only thing stopping me from chewing your stupid raptor face off is the pack leash!"

  "Both of you, behave," I called out, rolling my eyes. I turned to Krysanthea, lowering my voice. "At this junction, Nessy is actually far more useful than I am. She still has plenty of Scrutiosmia points left, which could be essential for finding and disposing of dangerous anomalies or invasive Systemfall species."

  Krysanthea's feathers fluttered in irritation, but she didn't argue the point. "Fine. The dog stays. But I draw the line at morning licks."

  “

  I waited while my Alec was long gone,

  Different paths but shared pain we've known,

  Rivals turned allies, no more alone.”

  Nessy’s song carried from the bathroom. Both of us momentarily froze, listening in as the lyrics flowed across the RV.

  “Seriously, how’s she doing that? It's like I can... almost hear music in my head behind the words,” The raptor whispered. “I didn't see points in her song Skill. Is song composition an infinite thing? Can she compose songs forever?”

  “Hrm,” I contemplated her words as I squinted at the silver web leading to Nessy.

  One of the strands leading to Nessy ignited.

  I blinked in astonishment as Nessy's complete stat block appeared in view, visible through the aluminum bathroom wall as if it were transparent:

  | Name: Nessy Rex Whitepaw

  | Species & Subtype: Pradavarian - Husky

  | Core Affinity: Scrutiosmia

  | Level: 1 | Health: 94/100%

  | Scrutiosmia: 31/100%

  | Riffweld: 39/100%

  As I watched, the [Riffweld] skill was actively fluctuating—dropping slightly as she continued to sing, but then incrementally rising as both Krysanthea and I listened. The numbers oscillated in a delicate balance, showing small % changes indicating both expenditure and recharge happening simultaneously.

  "Ah! I think that she's drawing power from us," I said, pointing to the stat window and the web of lines between us and the Riffweld skill. “Do you see that silver-violet strand going from you to her?”

  “Huh,” the raptor girl muttered. “Yeah, I see it. It’s like… directional current, little tiny sparks flowing from us to her. So… She gets energy from our attention?"

  "Not just attention. It seems like emotional response fuels it too," I observed as the numbers ticked up more rapidly when I felt moved by a particularly resonant lyric. "The stronger our reaction, the more power she gets back."

  “Is this... Emotional vampirism as a System skill?”

  "I don't think it's vampiric," I countered. "It seems more... symbiotic? We get art, music, beauty. She gets magic power to produce said art."

  “Hrmmm…” The raptor mused. “It is nice… I suppose.”

  As she said this, I noticed the [Riffweld] counter spike upward briefly. The moment she'd acknowledged the quality of Nessy's work, a tiny surge of power had flowed into the skill.

  "See? It's not just listening," I pointed out. "It's appreciation. Recognition. When you acknowledged her talent just now, it gave her a boost."

  "So if I compliment the annoying hairball, I'm giving her more composer powers?" Krysanthea looked somewhat disturbed by this concept.

  “My Alec, my sunshine, my reason to be,

  Her soul's battle-scarred, yet standing free,

  My nose led me to you across realms unseen,

  Perhaps her strength our shield can be.

  Face licks for her and you as well,

  Though she hisses and spits, her loneliness I smell,

  Sharing space and you, under your spell,

  Our pack bond growing stronger than Systemfall hell!”

  The song finished and the bathroom door flew open, revealing Nessy who now had blue dog paw clips in her hair. The husky looked impossibly bright-eyed and bushy-tailed for someone just awake. Her blue eyes darted between us, noting our intense expressions. I wasn't sure what she had done with her mane this morning, but she was somehow twice as fluffy which made her look even curvier in... certain parts. Did Riffweld also temporarily enhance her visual appearance or something?

  "What?" she asked, ears swiveling forward. "Why are you two looking at me like that?"

  "Your Riffweld skill," I explained. "It feeds on our emotional responses to your music. When we appreciate your songs, it makes you stronger."

  Rather than appearing surprised or concerned, Nessy simply grinned, her canines flashing. "Well, duh. All the best music works that way, System-powered or not. Art is a feedback loop between creator and audience! Besides, you both needed some serious emotional processing. Consider it therapeutic intervention through song."

  She bobbed over to us.

  "Also, good news! I have spare toothbrushes for everyone!" she announced with the same hyper-intensity. "Pink one's now yours, Kristizard! Violet one's mine. Blue one is Alecs! Got it? Good!"

  "It's Krysanthea," the raptor corrected automatically.

  "Whatever you say, Kristy-whisty," Nessy replied.

  "That's not even remotely close to—"

  "Ooh, I forgot to tell you both!" Nessy interrupted, bouncing back into the main area, her tail wagging with excitement. "I had the BEST dream last night! We were all fighting slimes together, but they were like, jello-slimes, and every time we defeated one we got to eat it, and they tasted like different flavors—mine was blueberry—and Alec got cherry, and Kristy got, um, broccoli I think? Because she was being a grumpysaurus-rex and—"

  "Is she always like this in the morning?" Krysanthea asked me, her expression pained.

  "Pretty much," I confirmed.

  "You say that like it's a bad thing," Nessy huffed. She opened the door out, letting fresh forest air in and sniffed the breeze. "Alec? Can you brush meeee? Pwease? My tail and mane's all taaangly from sleep."

  She pawed at her wagging tail as if to illustrate her point, tongue out with a small blep.

  "Must you wag your tail at him so early in the morning?" Kristi asked with an eye-roll.

  "What? I wag my tail at him all the time," Nessy blinked, completely missing the implied nuance. Rapidly diving back into her duffel bag she emerged with a brush and approached me, eyes wide and imploring.

  I nodded and she deposited herself cross-legged on the floor in front of me, her back to my knees, tail wagging expectantly as she handed the brush over her shoulder.

  Krysanthea watched this display with disbelief and reluctant fascination as I began running the brush through Nessy's mane.

  "You two do this... regularly?" she asked.

  "Mmmm, yes," Nessy practically purred as the brush hit a particularly satisfying spot. "Pack grooming. Very important. Builds bonds. You should try it sometime, Miss Scales. Maybe he can polish your scales or whatevs. Might help with that stick up your—"

  "I think I'll take my turn in the bathroom now," Krysanthea interrupted, sliding off the bed with as much dignity as she could muster in her borrowed sleep shirt.

  As she disappeared into the bathroom, Nessy leaned back against my knees, tilting her head to look up at me with laughing blue eyes. "This is going to be fun," she whispered conspiratorially. "I'm gonna domesticate her so hard!"

  "Be nice," I warned, though I couldn't help smiling at her enthusiasm.

  "Wut wut? I'm always nice!" she insisted. "The nicest. The absolute top-tier nicest. You can trust me completely with our new repti-fren!"

  Somehow, her innocent expression only made me more concerned for Krysanthea's sanity in the days to come.

  "You know, four days ago I ended up waking up in the apocalypse," I mused, continuing to brush her fur. "And now I'm mediating between a husky and a velociraptor in my grandfather's RV. Life sure is strange."

  "At least it's nice 'cus I'm here, riiiight?" Nessy asked.

  I paused in my brushing, looking down at her upturned face—at the rays of hope dancing in those expressive blue eyes.

  "Yeah," I agreed softly. "Things are definitely better with you around."

  Her tail thumped against the floor, a rhythmic expression of pure joy that no words could match.

  Behind the bathroom door, we could hear Krysanthea grumbling about canine hair in the sink and the indignities of shared living spaces with an unkempt husky. Nessy's ears twitched toward the sound, face curving into a smile that could only be described as mischievous.

  As I brushed Nessy, the Sandwichu Tree in its plexiglass prison caught my eye. It sat on a small table in the corner of the Airstream, bathed in sunlight. To my surprise, tiny buds had appeared on its previously bare branches overnight—minuscule, barely perceptible growths that sparkled like diamond dewdrops in the morning light.

  “Eeee, Sandwichu is recovering… growing!” Nessy commented, her own eyes following my gaze. “Def’ gonna need bulbee pollination to make it bloom though.”

  “The... what now?” The raptor emerged from the bathroom.

  Nessy began to explain bulbees to the ranger, while I went into the bathroom.