Robin didn't move. He couldn't. It wasn't just the system's flashing red warning—[TRACKING MARK ACTIVE. DISTANCE: 0.0 MILES]—it was the fact that a six-foot-long, silver-grey tail was draped firmly across his shins.
The weight was comforting, warm, and felt surprisingly like a heavy velvet blanket. He looked over at Lunara. The fierce warrior who had cleaved through monsters yesterday was currently curled up on her side, her silver hair a chaotic halo around her head. Her ears twitched in her sleep, and her breathing was slow and deep. In this light, without the spear and the bone armor, she looked... soft. Feminine. Like someone who had finally allowed herself to stop being an Alpha for a few hours.
I can't believe this is my life now, Robin thought, his heart doing a strange little fluttering dance that had nothing to do with fear.
Then he looked up.
There, clinging to the bone-ribbed ceiling of the yurt, was the spider. It was the size of a dinner plate, its body a translucent, sickly purple that seemed to pulse with an internal, dark light. Its eight eyes were fixed directly on Robin. It didn't move. It didn't spin a web. It just... watched.
[TARGET IDENTIFIED: VOID-SPAWN SEEKER]
[FUNCTION: BEACON / TRACKER]
[THREAT LEVEL: LOW (INDIVIDUAL), EXTREME (AS A SCOUT)]
If he shouted, Lunara would wake up and probably put her spear through the roof, but the spider was fast. If it escaped, it would lead whatever "Weaver" was out there straight to the heart of the village. Robin needed to handle this quietly.
He slowly, agonizingly, tried to slide his legs out from under Lunara's tail. Every time he moved an inch, the silver fur tickled his skin, and the tail would give a reflexive, possessive squeeze.
"Mmm... stay put, pup," Lunara mumbled in her sleep, her ears flattening against her head as she shifted closer to the heat of the dying fire.
Robin froze. "Not a pup," he whispered under his breath.
He finally managed to slip free, the cold air hitting his legs. He stood up, grabing the wooden bowl he had used for stew the night before. He didn't have a weapon, but he had a plan. Using his new [Sure-footed] skill, he stepped onto the stone rim of the hearth, balancing precariously.
The spider's eyes shifted. It sensed the movement.
Robin lunged. He didn't try to swat it; he slammed the bowl over the creature against the leather ceiling.
"Gotcha!"
The spider hissed—a sound like steam escaping a pipe—and began thumping against the wood.
"What in the Great Moon...?"
A hand like a vice clamped onto Robin's ankle, and he was suddenly yanked backward. He tumbled off the hearth, landing hard on the furs, only to find Lunara looming over him. She was on all fours, her eyes glowing golden in the shadows, her teeth bared in a primal reflex.
"Robin?" She blinked, the sleep clearing from her eyes. She looked at him, then at the bowl he was pressing against the ceiling with a long stick he'd grabbed. "Are you... are you hunting the roof?"
"Spider," Robin gasped, his heart racing. "The one from the cave. It followed us. It's a tracker, Lunara. If it gets away, it tells its boss where we sleep."
Lunara's expression shifted instantly from confused to lethal. She didn't grab her spear. Instead, she reached up, her hand moving faster than Robin could see. She snatched the bowl from him, her other hand reaching into the space. There was a sickening crunch.
She pulled her hand back, holding the crushed remains of the purple spider. It dissolved into a black, foul-smelling mist before it even hit the floor.
"Ugh," she muttered, wiping her hand on a piece of scrap leather. "Disgusting. And you caught it with a soup bowl?"
"It was the only thing I had!" Robin defended himself, sitting up and rubbing his sore ankle. "You have a very strong grip, by the way."
Lunara looked at him, the tension in her shoulders melting away. She sat back on her heels, her tail swishing behind her. A faint flush touched her cheekbones. "I... apologize. Instinct. I thought a Shadow-stalker had breached the walls." She looked at the spot where the spider had been. "You did well, Robin. Most humans would have screamed. Or died."
She stood up, offering him a hand. Her palm was warm, and she pulled him up with enough force that he nearly bumped into her chest. She didn't back away immediately. "You're becoming quite the sentry. Maybe I should stop calling you a pup."
"I'd appreciate that," Robin said, smiling.
"We'll see," she teased, her ears giving a playful flick. "Now, get dressed. If the Weaver is sending scouts, the Shaman's Garden needs to be fortified. And Mina has been asking about you since sunrise."
The walk to Mina's garden was much more pleasant than the trek to the Grotto. The village was fully awake now, and the atmosphere was surprisingly light. Robin noticed a group of women from the 'Beast-Binder' caste grooming their giant, woolly kodo-beasts, laughing and splashing water at each other.
"Hey, Lunara!" one of them called out. She was a tall woman with orange-tinted fur and a very short tunic. "Is that the star-boy? He's smaller than he looked from the wall!"
"He's big enough to fix your fences, Koda!" Lunara shouted back, though she leaned in closer to Robin as they walked. "Ignore them. They're just bored. They haven't had a new face to gossip about in three winters."
"I feel like a zoo exhibit," Robin muttered.
"A very popular one," Lunara replied, her tail brushing against his arm as they walked. It was a casual, feminine gesture, one that made him feel more like a companion and less like a prisoner.
They reached the Shaman's Garden, which was a secluded valley protected by high cliffs. It was a riot of color—flowers that glowed, vines that seemed to pulse with a heartbeat, and trees that grew perfectly square fruit.
Mina was in the center of it, kneeling in the dirt. She looked up, her floppy brown ears perking up instantly. "Robin! Lunara! You're here!"
She hopped up, dusting off her robes. Her tail was wagging so hard her whole body was swaying. "The trees! They're better! The black stuff is drying up because you cleared the grotto! But... I have a problem."
She led them to a row of drooping, pale blue flowers. "These are Moon-lilies. They provide the essence for our healing poultices. But the soil is too dry, and the water-sprites are hiding because of the 'bad smell' from the cave. If I don't get them water by noon, they'll wilt, and we won't have medicine for the winter."
Lunara looked at the steep cliff where a small waterfall was trickling, far out of reach. "I can climb up and carry buckets, Mina, but it will take all day to get enough."
Robin looked at the waterfall, then at the layout of the garden. He saw a series of bamboo-like hollow reeds growing nearby.
"We don't need buckets," Robin said, feeling the [Logical Deduction] skill kick in. "We need an irrigation system."
"A... what?" Mina tilted her head, looking adorable and confused.
"I can build a path for the water," Robin explained. "If we split those reeds and line them up from the waterfall down to the flower beds, the water will just... flow. Gravity does the work."
Mina's eyes went wide. "You can make the water walk?"
"In a manner of speaking," Robin laughed.
[NEW QUEST: THE WATER'S PATH]
[OBJECTIVE: CONSTRUCT A FUNCTIONAL IRRIGATION SYSTEM FOR MINA.]
[REWARD: +10% BOND WITH MINA, +5% BOND WITH LUNARA, NEW SKILL: 'FLUID DYNAMICS']
The next few hours were filled with a different kind of labor. It wasn't the life-or-death tension of the grotto, but a rhythmic, peaceful cooperation. Robin showed Lunara how to split the thick reeds without shattering them, while Mina used her magic to soften the earth where the channels would lay.
"Like this?" Lunara asked, holding a reed. She was surprisingly careful, her sharp claws acting like precision knives.
"Perfect," Robin said. "Now, we just need to notch the ends so they lock together."
As they worked, the conversation turned casual.
"So, Robin," Mina said, sitting on a rock and wiping a smudge of dirt from her nose. "In your world, are there other wolf-people? Or just... people-people?"
"Just people-people," Robin said. "And we don't have magic. We use machines for everything. If we want to move water, we use pumps and pipes."
"That sounds lonely," Mina said softly, her ears drooping. "To have everything done by things that don't have a spirit."
"Sometimes it is," Robin admitted, looking at the two monster girls. "But here... everything feels more alive. Even the dirt seems to have an opinion."
Lunara laughed, a light, airy sound. She had taken off her boots to walk in the cool mud of the garden, her digitigrade feet leaving deep, powerful prints. "The dirt definitely has an opinion, usually that I'm too heavy for it. But I like your 'pipes,' Robin. They make sense."
She looked at him, her golden eyes warm. "You've been here for three days, and you've already changed the way we look at our own home. My father was right about you."
"He was?"
"He said you were a catalyst," she said, her voice dropping to a more serious, feminine tone. "Something that makes everything else react. I didn't understand it at first. I just thought you were a scrawny human who needed a guard. But now..." She trailed off, her tail giving a shy little flick.
Suddenly, the first trickle of water reached the end of the reed pipe. It splashed into the Moon-lily bed with a happy, gurgling sound.
Mina let out a squeal of delight, hugging Robin around the waist before she even realized what she was doing. She was soft, smelling of flowers and fresh earth. "You did it! The water is walking!"
[BOND INCREASE: MINA 15% (ADORES THE STAR-FALL)]
[BOND INCREASE: LUNARA 25% (DEEPENING TRUST)]
[SKILL UNLOCKED: FLUID DYNAMICS (LEVEL 1)]
Robin felt a surge of pride. He wasn't a warrior, but he was useful. He was needed.
As the sun began to set, the garden was transformed. The lilies were perking up, their petals glowing with a soft, lunar light. The three of them sat by the small pond at the base of the garden, sharing a basket of the square fruit Lunara had gathered.
"It's peaceful here," Robin said, leaning back against a mossy rock.
"It is," Lunara agreed. She was sitting close to him, her shoulder touching his. She looked at her hands, still stained with mud from the garden. "But the spider... it means the peace is a thin veil, Robin. The Weaver is coming. And when she does, Moon-lilies and pipes won't be enough."
"We'll be ready," Robin said, surprised by his own confidence. "We have the system, we have the tribe, and I'm not going anywhere."
Lunara looked at him, a slow, beautiful smile spreading across her face. She reached out and took his hand, her clawed fingers gently interlacing with his. "No, you aren't. Because if you try to leave, I'll just have to track you down again. And I'm much better at it than that spider was."
They laughed, the sound echoing through the quiet garden.
But as the shadows lengthened, a cold wind blew through the valley. The Moon-lilies flickered, their light dimming for a split second.
Robin looked toward the cliffs. High above, standing on a jagged peak, was a figure. It was too far to see clearly, but it was tall, slender, and had four arms that moved with a sickening, fluid grace. It wasn't a wolf. It wasn't a beast.
It was a woman, her skin as black as the void, her hair a web of silver threads that caught the moonlight.
She didn't attack. She simply raised a hand, pointing a single, long finger toward the garden.
Then, she vanished.
[SYSTEM ALERT: NEW ARC OBJECTIVE IDENTIFIED]
[THE WEAVER'S HARVEST: PROTECT THE TRIBE FROM THE FIRST BROOD.]
"Lunara," Robin whispered, his blood turning to ice. "Look up."
Lunara followed his gaze, her ears pinning back, her growl vibrating deep in her chest. "I see her. The Rogue... the Weaver's Hand."
She stood up, pulling Robin behind her, her feminine warmth replaced instantly by the cold steel of a protector. "Mina, go to the village. Now. Tell my father the harvest has begun."
The atmosphere of the garden, once light and filled with laughter, was suddenly heavy with the scent of wet copper and old meat. The war wasn't just coming; it had found the front door.