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I'd never met a talking monster before.

Sure, I'd_heard_ about the Gift of Speech. It was a source of endless gossip and study. "A talking monster! How much could we learn?" Not a week went by without someone bringing it up. But actually meeting one? Even in the monster-hunting business, it turned out 'a rare few monsters' needed far more emphasis on_rare_. Despite several dozen encounters with various monsters, I'd probably been on the other side of a city from a Gifted monster at the very closest. Then again, maybe my profession kept them at a distance. I'd never gotten to ask.

The bill in my hand said I was to meet a friendly Mizutsune who needed help defending territory.Experienced hunter requested. Coordinate efforts to drive off or incapacitate the enemy. Standard support from Hunter's Guild provided on-site.

So, I was going to go meet a talking monster.

The Felyne river pilot--what had his name been?--had barely joined me in camp and refused to accompany me. "Too many slips and falls with that one, meowch."

Friendly Mizutsune? Right, then.

I wasn't sure what to expect, so I swapped my usual heavy gear for light armor and my sword and shield. Basic, yet trustworthy. Easy to manage if I needed to make a quick retreat.

It wasn't_running_, of course. You could be forgiven for thinking that when a monster ten times your size was bearing down on you. It was strategic repositioning: be where the enemy isn't, poke them in the softer parts. Doubt me? Try blocking a charging Barroth, even with a shielded weapon like my gunlance. If it doesn't knock you on your ass or worse, it still_hurts_.

So, light and nimble. Just enough armor to keep claws and fangs from tearing my gray fur. I only had a handful of scars, intact ears, and a full tail, and I intended to keep it that way. If I had to get back to camp and regroup, it'd let me run faster, too. Not fleeing, regrouping.

Though, I'm not above admitting to the occasional panicked yelp. Again: giant monster. It's instinctual.

Hopefully I wouldn't embarrass myself that way in this meeting.

The rise described in the bill was two clearings away from the camp, one of which left me with one fewer Flash Bomb in exchange for a lack of Jaggi tooth marks on my shield. A stream flowed through some thin trees and curved off downhill.So that's where this one gets water. I couldn't see if it was wide enough for fish, or if the Mizu had to hunt and forage.Do monsters with the Gift of Speech eat like the rest of their kind?

I was about to find out. Insects buzzed and floated through the latest clearing, one that had no end of tracks and other marks. And a sense of being watched.Okay then.

"Hello," I dared to call out. "I'm here for the assignment?"

Nearby underbrush rustled, and a surprisingly sonorous voice flowed to my ears. "You're right on time."

My heart thudded once, twice, when the Mizutsune rose from behind a tangle of shrubs and vines. Nothing to be concerned about, though. Just a monster, what, five times my size? One that was padding towards me.

Though, as this mysterious benefactor entered the clearing, I had to revise my estimate. I'd been almost shorter than the shoulders of the one Mizutsune I'd sparred with. Later, I'd been told it was on the small side. I was sort of okay with that, boasting aside; the bigger they are, the harder they hit. When my mentor had asked how I felt, I had admitted I'd hoped to avoid meeting anything that large for a long while.

It seems I had my wish. This Mizutsune's shoulders were level with mine, maybe lower. It didn't look any less imposing, with pairs of fins on its head and back--the former looked like a spade split apart down the middle. A long, sinuous body. Its--their--wickedly clawed feet made graceful steps through the clearing, doubtless leaving more of the tracks I'd already seen. Sunlight caught the varying cream, pink, and rosy hues of their scales, but it was the long purple fur along their underside that had the most fetching sheen to it. Azure eyes studied me past a long muzzle. Even before speech, the intelligence in that gaze was unmistakable. Nor, to my surprise, was the amused curl of their narrow lips.

"Never seen a Mizutsune before?"

I blinked, and brought myself out of whatever reverie I'd been slipping into. "The only one I've met wasn't, um, of a mind to talk."

"Ah," they said, "I've had a few encounters with hunters who weren't much better."

"Idiots." I probably should've apologized or something more diplomatic. I glanced down at the bill, even though I'd already memorized it. "Syreen, am I saying it right?"

Their head, still nearly the size of my torso, bobbed in a nod. "That's me, and yes."

"Genbi," I said. I took off my helmet, letting the breeze flow through my fur. Did I offer a handshake? "So, you need help driving off an interloper?"

Syreen's head tilted ever so slightly. "You're direct." The subtle smile grew. "I like that. Any concerns about working with a talking monster?"

I shrugged and rolled the paper bill back into its container. "I don't see why I would? I'm curious--about you, I mean. In general. But it's my first time meeting a... Gifted speaker, to be more diplomatic." I tried not to grimace. "I'm not very good at diplomacy."

"So what would you call me, if you didn't have to be diplomatic?"

"Someone with a job that needs doing."

A chuckle rolled in Syreen's throat. "And is that all I am?"

I opened my muzzle, closed it, and took a breath. "I mean, you're a person? Just in a different shape. Very gorgeous, too. But I don't want to bore you with questions when you're paying for my help."

"Hmmm. Yes, I do need a hunter I can trust and work with. The trespasser couldn't intimidate me into leaving, so an attack could come any day now." A long talon gestured to a spot almost under their muzzle. "Come closer, if you would."

I stepped forward, swallowing past my beating heart. The Guild hadn't warned me, officially or otherwise, that Syreen was dangerous. I stopped barely an arm's length away from that mouth, one that showed hints of fangs each time Syreen talked. The Mizutsune was_much_ bigger up close. Each step was nearly silent as they padded around me, looking me up and down. This close, I could see the subtle striations in the variously-hued scales. Many of the wider fins had a dark spot surrounded by pale gold, itself surrounded by shades of red and purple, like an eclipse and a sunset all in one. The purple fur flowed more from Syreen's movements than the breeze.

"You're rather relaxed," came that rich voice from behind me. My ears swiveled and Syreen hummed. "I worried that no hunter I could hire would trust me enough to show me their back."

"I'll admit I'm fighting an instinct or two," I said, "but I trust the Guild, and the Guild trusts you. At least as a client."

Syreen's smooth gait carried them back around my front. "I hope we can find more reasons for trust. How would you handle a rampaging monster?"

I blinked. "That's always been something the Guild determines. I don't make that decision."

Syreen leaned in ever so slightly. "Say you have to," they said, "that there's no time for the Guild to tell you, or you're traveling. A monster attacks, you have a weapon, you can fight it. What do you do?"

"Try to drive it off."

"Is that all?" Syreen's gaze bored into mine. "What if it comes back? Or doesn't leave?"

I frowned, and ran it through my head. "I mean, keep someone on watch, but if driving it off doesn't work we might have to capture and relocate it."

"Wouldn't killing be easier?"

I couldn't hide my grimace, and although Syreen had a rather different facial structure, I could recognize the flash of approval that crossed their expression. If I hadn't been sure it was a test before, well, I was now. "We... I don't prefer to."

Syreen's attention was still on me. "A hunter who doesn't like killing?"

"I'm a protector, not a butcher."

"Good," they said, and sat on a patch of mostly-untrampled grass. "My apologies for the turn in conversation. I don't distrust the Guild, but, I wanted to be sure."

I nodded and let myself relax. "You said it yourself, you've run into bad hunters. I can't really be offended by you trying to be careful."

A smirk crossed their muzzle. "And you called me gorgeous. It's nice to hear that from a handsome wolf."

"I, um." Hadn't been expecting the flattery, it seemed. "Thank you. So, what's your plan for this trespasser?"

"A show of force." Syreen's frills caught the light as they turned their head. "We had a skirmish three days ago. He--I think it's a he, didn't stop to ask, don't think he'd answer--is after my territory. We're too evenly matched, and he might have an edge on me if he was holding back."

I nodded. "You're worried he could beat you."

A long, low sigh left Syreen's muzzle. "Or, that he'll just keep coming back if I drive him off again. The disadvantage of the Gift: I'm not as large as others of my kind. Having a hunter by my side, though? That will turn it in my favor."

"Seems fair," I said. Syreen's dwelling must have been further up the ridge. Was it a cave, or something constructed? The claws didn't look dexterous enough to handle tools, but there were plenty of abandoned structures and shrines throughout the wilds. Maybe Syreen had hired help, too. But how did a Mizutsune make money?

I refocused on the task at hand.Think about defenses. "What's stopping him from waiting until nightfall when I go back to camp?"

"He can't fly as freely at night, and the moon is waning." A pause, and the frills seemed to droop backward. "I can't be sure."

"I might have a trap or two you could set up." I'd have to disassemble some shells to build more. The Guild had promised supplies, at least. "Flares to blind him and to send up a signal at the same time. Even if he presses an attack before I arrive, that should give you an advantage."

Syreen's lips curled and a spark of predatory anticipation flashed in their eyes. "Ingenious. Maybe he'll crash and save us the trouble."

"Maybe," I said, flashing my own grin. Tools and traps could make all the difference. Though, flying... "Though, what species are we dealing with?"

"They didn't tell you?"

I shook my head. "Just that you needed assistance. Unknown monster." I paused and considered. Honesty seemed the best policy. "I'm good for a fight, but if it's something too big I might have to get the Guild to send more help."

"Unknown..." Syreen blinked and glanced down at my belt where I'd stuffed the quest bill. "I told the messenger. Though, he seemed rather distractible." A sigh followed. "I understand if you don't want to take the risk. You deserve to have all the information.

"He's an Astalos."

---

I'd double-timed it back to camp after that.Astalos. I hadn't fought one before--the biggest monster I'd taken down was Rathalos, and that was with three other hunters, two of whom were far more experienced. All I had to go on was the Guild bestiary. It was enough to know I'd consider myself lucky to weather an attack from one if I couldn't run, and that was with my best gear, not my piddly sword and what might as well be a wooden board. Given the choice, I wouldn't have picked a hunt with one. Not alone.

Thankfully, I wasn't.

I sent the Felyne back with a short list of supplies I'd need from the Guild if they could spare them. I changed to a more moderate set of armor from my storage chest, one that had a little lightning resistance. Maybe I could get a small chest of supplies up to the ridge? At the very least, I grabbed a net trap and the two EZ flares they'd already given me.

Once I returned, I spread the three items out. "I can set these up wherever you want," I told Syreen. "These two are the flares. I'd put one by your home, another here or wherever else you'd expect to run into him. This one's on a tripwire and will shoot a net in the direction we set it, so you'd probably have to lure him somewhere he'll have to walk."

"Very ingenious," Syreen said, leaning in close enough that the frills nearly touched me. "Will the net trap him? It seems small. No offense."

"Oh, it won't. Sorry. I'll have better traps tomorrow. This won't do more than slow him down for a few seconds, maybe trip him with a lucky shot."

Syreen's hum vibrated the air around us. "Every advantage is welcome. Please, show me how they work?"

So I did. It turned out we were one clearing away from a ridge with a rather well-hidden cave entrance, though I didn't ask to go inside. The two flares were easy to set. The net took a little adjustment to cover the likely approach.

The setting sun added even more richness to Syreen's scales and fins once we were done. "Would it be easier to move your camp closer?"

"Not right away. I'll see when the Felynes can get things packed to move--right now they'll be focused on getting our supplies." The quest hadn't specified a time length. I'd have to find an opening to ask.

"Ah. I wouldn't want to impose." The frills twitched backward--was that the Mizutsune expression of disquiet? "It just, it may take a few days for him to make his move. Or it could happen first thing tomorrow."

I exaggerated my shrug in case they didn't recognize the gesture. "I'll keep my armor and gunlance ready and I could probably be here in five minutes, or less." I'd have to drink a Dash Juice to make a nonstop run in heavy armor. Plus the time to put on the armor in the first place. "I'll bring what I can at first light, at least? We ought to practice fighting together if we can. When the Felynes arrive I can ask them about moving camp or setting up something temporary, if that's okay with you? It's your territory."

Syreen's smile, at least, was recognizable. "And defenders are welcome to stay in it. I wish I could show proper appreciation for your help, beyond payment through the Guild, of course."

"Honestly? This is an interesting challenge, and a good cause," I said. "I don't know that I'd need more payment than that and what the Guild will provide."

"No?" The curl of their lips seemed impish, now, as Syreen tilted their head to regard me with one eye. "Not going to take advantage of an indebted monster? I've had a few people ask if they can ride me."

I blinked, opened my mouth, blinked again. "Um. No, I mean, I couldn't ask that." I licked my lips and looked Syreen over. The start of a sunset cast golds and reds over those scales, and shadows from the frills. "You're too majestic to command around like a beast."

A rich chuckle came as Syreen stepped closer. "I'm not above admitting I like your flattery." The narrow muzzle, still nearly wide as my head at the base and ringed by frills to make their face seem larger still, came within arm's reach. "May I touch you?

I blinked again. "Sure?"

Syreen moved closer. The motion was slow, but my heart leaped at the sight of_very large, looming monster_ until I tamped it down.They won't hurt you, it's okay, trust... him? Her? Trust them. The whiskers, I realized, were just frills without the half-spade fan of the larger pair at the back and side of Syreen's head.

I felt the warmth of their body as that head moved to the side of mine, the side of the long mouth level with my eye. I could tell each motion was deliberate, clearly considerate of the smaller being that I was. Not that I was fragile, of course. I was still thankful for the care taken. Their scent was like a mix of rain and cherry wood, with a faint hint of something else--I didn't want to be rude or come on strong by trying to sniff it out. One of the whiskers brushed my shoulder and they tilted their head before leaning closer still.

The touch of their muzzle on my cheek was soft, and almost without thinking I leaned a little into it. There was a firmness there, too, as their size and strength bespoke being nigh immovable if I tried to push for some reason. I didn't. It was just a friendly nuzzle. Despite my lingering uncertainty, or surprise, I supposed, I felt my tail swaying behind me.

"Thank you," Syreen murmured, the vibrations of their speech so close I felt the words more than heard them.

"You're, uh, you're welcome," I replied, raising a hand to pat my erstwhile partner's neck. The scales were warm too, and firm, of course. They flexed slightly under my touch. Hard enough to withstand attacks, yet not rough or unyielding. I'd touched more than a few monsters after capturing them. This was certainly something else entirely.

Syreen pulled back after a breath and gazed at me with an azure eye. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

I nodded. "Hopefully not sooner, but I'll keep a lookout for your flare."

"A restful night for both of us, then."

It was strange that I didn't quite feel like leaving. "Good night, Syreen." I guessed I was getting peckish, though, which was a good as any reason to depart.

"Good night."

I timed my walk back to camp. I could put on my current set of armor in less than three minutes in a rush, and if I slept in the padding. Maybe I could wear the arm and leg guards to bed if we expected an attack? My guess of two minutes to make a full run was pretty close. The problem was, a lot could happen in five minutes. An Astalos was fast and, from what I read, not shy on pressing an attack. If it incapacitated Syreen before I got there, I'd have to fight it alone. Not ideal.

I roasted some meat skewers and ate them with a bed of greens. Simple, hearty. Thankfully the path out of the camp pointed more or less right towards Syreen's home so the scattered trees and brush didn't obstruct the view of the sky. The weather was cool enough to keep the bugs reasonable so I could leave the tent flap open.

That done, I took an inventory of the supplies I needed for the next day. I preferred my heavy armor with my gunlance, particularly for such a strong opponent. It just wasn't very effective against electricity. I'd have to retool it if I didn't want to wind up Thunderblighted or paralyzed. Or outright fried. The alternative was to forego the extra physical protection and use the set I had on me.

In the end, I set the heavy chest piece aside; it was banded with more than enough metal to make a shock rather painful. Leather, shell, and bone wouldn't take a hit as well, so I'd just have to block direct attacks with my gunlance's shield. Or avoid getting hit.

It was always that easy, of course. Hit the monster, don't get hit. Honestly, why did so many hunters have trouble?

The rest of the heavy armor, however, I'd keep. I needed the extra protection for my extremities. The metal in the leggings would hopefully act as a lightning rod for any bolts that hit me. Plus they'd be better at absorbing impacts when I braced.

I fitted what straps I could and locked my folded gunlance into place on the back piece of the armor. A flip of a safety and it'd release into my hand. It was as prepared as I was going to get for the night. The air was cool, perhaps chilly by morning. Was it odd that I thought about Syreen's touch? That warmth would be as comfortable as any blanket.

You're not going to snuggle the Mizutsune, even if he... she..._they _are friendly, I chided myself. They. I sort of felt bad that I couldn't tell--it was one thing to have someone present themselves as androgynous, but Syreen didn't even have clothing or accessories to give any clues. A quick check of my bestiary wasn't helpful: males were the most commonly encountered by hunters, particularly during mating season when they got territorial and rageful. Females had smaller, less colorful fins, and "a few other minor differences." Smaller compared to what size? Even the sketches didn't give any useful details. I'd have to either keep thinking of them as 'they' or muster the courage to ask.

All that was left was to fall asleep and wait for light to wake me--be it dawn, or the flash of an emergency flare.

---

Thankfully, the brightening sky before sunrise was the end of my sleep. I relieved and brushed myself, ate a quick-mix congee, and put out the campfire embers. Then came the first of my practice. A minute-glass kept my time as my hands flew over straps and buckles. Four and a half minutes to put on my armor--not good enough. I didn't want to waste a potion or my energy, especially with a small chest of supplies in my arms, so I settled for a slow jog to the clearing where we'd meet.

The sun was fully up over the hills once I got there. Syreen was sitting at a flat rock with, to my surprise, a familiar wrapping under one claw. That large head turned towards me as I approached.

"Good morning," I said, and peered at the logo on the waxed paper. "Is that from Zephyr Smokehouse?"

Syreen tilted their head back to swallow. "Good morning! It is," they said, folding the now-empty paper with what looked like practiced motions. "I can eat raw meat, but, I prefer it cooked. More flavor, easier to digest."

"Makes sense," I said, setting the chest down by a rock outcrop. If they could buy it, why not? "I brought some things to adjust my armor, if you don't mind me doing that?"

"Of course, take your time. I need to get a drink and dispose of this." The folded paper fit neatly between two claws, though it gave Syreen a slightly unbalanced gait as they made their way down the path towards, I assumed, that stream.

I brought the element-infused armor jewels and tools to the flat rock, since I figured Syreen wouldn't need it anymore. One piece at a time, I'd swap out its current set of extra protections; they were for fire, given I'd fought an Anjanath the last time I'd worn it. Not as hard as the Rathalos had been, even with help. Now I was punching above my weight class again.

So is Syreen, I reminded myself. _They..._And there was that question again. Did their gender really matter? Probably not, but I wanted to know.

My gaze must have betrayed my inner questioning when I watched Syreen returning. "You look curious about something," they said, head tilting ever so slightly. "Or am I wrong?"

"No," I said, "just... awkward question, I suppose. Undiplomatic."

The warm smile would have set my tail wagging, if I hadn't noticed something like an impish sparkle in their eyes. "I won't mind, you don't seem like the kind to ask something insulting."

I nodded, grateful for the understanding, and still maddeningly unsure how to phrase what should have been a straightforward query. It was probably something I should have asked when we met. Now it just felt odd.

Syreen gestured back towards the trail. "Is it about how I got the meat?"

I should have stayed with my original thought, but my mind jumped on the tangent.Coward. "Uh, that's one, I guess. I'm curious what kind of work you do, if they pay you fairly?"

"Usually they do," Syreen said, settling on their haunches on the other side of the makeshift table. The surface was rather smooth and level, though now that I looked, it still had the uneven, angular shape of a natural boulder. "Sometimes it's consultation with the Guild, or helping researchers with studies. I take care to keep my shed scales intact so I can sell them. Most of my income, though, is my bubblefoam."

My eyebrows rose as I realized the logistics of it. Bubblefoam was like a cross between oil and soap, extremely slippery and easy to process into industrial, medical, or cosmetic products. Or so I'd heard from a fellow hunter who was trying to scheme up a way to safely harvest it from temporarily captured Mizutsunes. This, though? Straight from a willing source instead of a captured or killed one. Doubtless it would be easy to avoid waste and ensure the quality.

Syreen was smiling at my expression. "I see there's no need to explain. I don't mind your questions, if you have more." They glanced over at the chest I'd brought. "Unless there's something I can do to help?"

"No, I mean, this is pretty delicate work, and most of those supplies are potions, rations, and that sort of thing. Just in case we do get attacked." I glanced up at the sky. "A balloon should arrive with the supplies I requested. I brought a smaller flare to signal them."

"Then I can keep a lookout--for them, and for our interloper. My interloper, sorry."

I waved away the statement. "Our interloper. I promised to defend your territory, and that's what I intend to do." Preferably not_or die trying;_ while I hadn't seen them after my arrival, there was usually a team of Felynes standing by to rescue hunters if they were incapacitated. Crippling injuries and fatalities were kept low... but, sadly, not unheard of.

"My appreciation continues," Syreen replied.

My tail swayed behind me as I went back to work. By the time I remembered that, yes, there was another question I wanted to ask, an important one, and had mustered the courage to actually ask it, Syreen sat upright.

"Is that yours?"

I stood and peered in the direction they were looking. Sure enough, a beige balloon with what looked like an underslung basket was gliding towards us. Propellers on either side of the gondola guided it to position above the edge of the clearing, where it dropped an anchor. A tall, slender Wyverian slid down the rope and tied it to a nearby tree.

"Ho, Syreen! And our hunter! Genbi, was it?" The Wyverian clapped her four-fingered hands and held them up for another rope tossed from above. "Skies look clear for now. Your supplies, as promised."

"Thanks," I said, moving to help with the pulley that lowered a crate to the ground. She popped the lid with a compact crowbar and bowed with a flourish that waggled her pointed ears. It was all there: a few potions, bombs, extra shells for my gunlance, a set of traps, and some other sundries. "This is perfect."

She grinned and headed over to say something to Syreen. I focused on undoing the rope, tugging it twice to signal them to withdraw it.

A familiar voice came from the gondola railing. "Watch out for the bubbly menace,nya."

"There you are," I said, craning my head to get a more proper look. The Felyne--Roy, I remembered now--was peering over the edge. "Can I talk to you about moving camp, or setting up something temporary close to here?"

Roy rubbed his whiskers. "We can bring a travel tent if you purrfer, hunter." He pointed at Syreen. "Just don't let_that one_ get us sudsy."

"Um. Okay?" I remembered him mentioning that, too. It clashed with Syreen's polite image. "I'll, uh, be sure that doesn't happen."

With one final_nya_, Roy disappeared, and the Wyverian waved to us as she undid the anchor. "Would love to stay and chat, but we've got another delivery to make to the south after dropping Roy off at camp. Good luck!"

"Thank you," Syreen said, smiling. I waved as the Wyverian--forgot to catch her name, of course--climbed the rope as it also withdrew. Moments later the propellers spun up and the craft ascended, turning southward towards camp and, I assumed, their next delivery.

Now I had to ask. "Syreen," I said, turning, "what did Roy mean about 'getting them sudsy'? Did something happen with the Felynes?"

Syreen's fins folded back, and their gaze fell to the ground. "We... once got to talking about my bubblefoam, and that one doubted it was too slippery to stand in. I may have gotten carried away with demonstrating its properties." The fins flattened further. "The noises were adorable."

I stared for a moment. I imagined the scene, especially the plaintive meows of protest I'd heard from other dramatically imperiled Felynes...

It was probably wrong of me to laugh as much as I did.

"I'm sorry," I said, doubled over, trying to control my breathing, though Syreen's mix of bashfulness and bemusement was sorely testing my fragile composure. "Oh, I can see why he'd be mad."

"It was only the one time, he should hardly hold a grudge," Syreen grumbled, though the fins perked back up. "I wouldn't do the same to you, you've been very polite with me."

The thought did bring something to mind. "You'll be using it during the fight, though, won't you? Moving around, maybe even tripping him up with it?"

"I will," Syreen said, tilting their head. The blue eyes widened. "Oh."

"Yeah," I replied, "the ground will probably get slippery in short order. Don't worry, I have cleansers for myself if too much gets on me. We should practice maneuvering around each other, especially so I don't get knocked off my feet at the wrong time."

Syreen nodded and idly stroked their chest fur. "Polite_and_ cunning. I think I hired the best hunter."

I tried to keep my tail from wagging too much while I pulled a folded part of a standing target from the crate. "Ah, so the flattery goes both ways? Also, are we practicing here, or?"

"Some things are best shared," they said with a smile. "And, no, there's a wider clearing by the stream that will be easier to fight in. This way."

I followed Syreen down the trail, which had likely been some sort of game trail before my ally had claimed it. The stream did indeed meander by at the edge of the larger clearing, with a very shallow pond or patch of wetland taking up half the edge. It was maybe knee-deep by the stream's bank. I could see why Syreen wanted to fight here: more water probably meant an easier time sliding around.

The standing target took a few minutes to assemble, followed by some markers around the edge of the clearing for reference points. It was easier to call out "go blue" during a fight than to try and coordinate without direction. Syreen had taken quite a long drink from the stream and padded up to join me as I stored some practice bombs in my belt satchel.

I explained the color point system, and we started discussing our plans. We needed a united front. Astalos was stronger than each of us. Not both of us. So, Syreen and I would need to get a sense of our abilities. I started with my gunlance. It was thicker than a regular lance despite weighing the same, owing to the firing mechanism inside. The tip was bladed, unlike the pointed lance. Nestled above that edge was the barrel that delivered the explosive blast of its shells. And of course, a wide shield that could lock into the side of the weapon, giving me superior defensive ability.

A sword and shield were what I'd started with, my switch axe was fun to play with, and one of these days I'd finish learning to use a bow. For the present? This gunlance was my absolute favorite.

"A remarkable weapon," Syreen said, gently running the back of a claw over the length of it. "I look forward to seeing it in action."

I grinned and unlocked the catches, folding it back into its stowed position on my back. "How about you?"

"I may not have weapons, but I do have claw and fang. And more." With that, Syreen pivoted and started... well, I'd seen monsters run, and fight, and more than a few were quick and nimble. Syreen? Syreen was_graceful_. There was no other way to describe the way each motion flowed into the next, that fox-like muzzle darting and weaving, claws swiping at the air without breaking step. It was like watching a dance.

Then, for the first time since that brief encounter weeks ago, I saw the bubblefoam in action.

It was like the ground no longer had friction. First was a quick dash across half the clearing, coming to their feet and hissing out a challenge at the standing target. A sweep of the tail, some trick of the fur and fins I couldn't catch, and then their mouth opened and launched a trio of bubbles at it. When they popped, they coated the thick wood in that slick fluid. Then they launched themselves forward and circled the target. If I couldn't see Syreen's claws moving to propel them, I'd have wondered if the laws of nature and gravity had any sway here.

Syreen came up on their feet again, looked at the target, then to a nearby tree. I was expecting another round of bubbles. Instead, they spat a jet of water that stripped a branch of its leaves, even knocking a few twigs from it.

It was a good thing they had to walk towards me, because it took a moment to find my voice again.

"It's times like these," I said, "that I wonder how I survive being a hunter. No wonder they call Mizutsune the 'Bewitching Dancer.'"

Syreen grinned toothily. "I've heard that. Is it vain to say I like it as a title?"

"Fitting, I'd say." I'd seen a dancer on ice when I was a boy, and that was the best comparison I could make. There was something like a floral scent in the air as Syreen brushed some dust from their fur. "If we didn't have work to do, I'd ask if I could see more."

"Once we win, I'd be happy to show you," Syreen replied, fins high and eyes gleaming. "Now, shall we see how we fight side by side?"

I nodded. My gunlance wasn't a very agile weapon, so we'd agreed that I was the fulcrum for maneuvering--at least until the Astalos stopped or focused on Syreen, at which point I would reposition, ideally to shove a shell blast into whatever I could reach.

It seemed easy enough.