The mouseys were all skinnier!
Ollie's true form was tiny—so small Jenna could hold him completely in one hand—so he could only swallow his pride and let Jenna play with him. He yelped for as long as she bathed him; when she was done, he went limp on his little mat like a deflated toy, as if his soul had taken a day off.
Jenna looked satisfied watching the little cleaned-up creature curl into his nest and tucked a cute handkerchief over him.
"Goodnight, Cub~ Sleep easy. I'll wake you up early tomorrow~"
Ollie was exhausted. He nudged Jenna's palm as a reply, then flipped over and fell fast asleep.
Jenna sent a photo of the sparkling-clean little hamster to Ned to let him know he was safe, then went back to practicing his cultivation.
At Ned's place, the four elders were crowded into a small wooden cabin, all hunched around a beat-up phone whose screen was crazed with cracks—an ancient thing.
They'd told Jenna not to go looking, but as old parents they couldn't help worrying about their Cub sneaking out at night.
They breathed easier only when they saw Ollie asleep on the tiny mat Zara had knitted for him.
Zara fanned her wings and blasted Ned—who took up the most room—right off his seat. She made the phone float closer with aura and stared at the picture of the little guy, her face soft with joy.
"I told you Cub would love the mat I made! He even takes it in his bag when he goes on shoots. Hmph—unlike some people. Cub probably forgot about you."
Ned, already angry from being flung, exploded the moment he heard that. He lunged for Zara, but she flew away effortlessly. Ned slammed headfirst into the wooden wall, making the rickety cabin shudder.
Stars danced in Ned's eyes. Before he'd fully recovered, someone smacked him with a tail. This time he'd learned his lesson: he pinned the tail with a claw before the owner could retract it, and bit down hard.
"Ah! Ned, what's wrong with you?! Let go, let go!"
Zara dove and slapped Ned with a wing so hard he finally released the bite, wheezing.
"Quinn, who are you to judge me? You're sick too, hush!"
"And you, Zara—just because I can't knit doesn't mean—what's the point of that victory lap? If Cub didn't like me, would he have my name? Please."
Quinn wrested the phone back and stared at the sleeping hamster for a long time before sighing, "Looks like Cub's lost weight. Told you city life down below wasn't great—maybe he's not getting enough to eat."
This time Zara and Quinn didn't protest; even Mira, who'd been watching the whole farce quietly from the corner, had to agree.
"Yeah, he does look thinner. I remember Zara's nest fit him perfectly before—see how it's leaving space now?"
Quinn picked up the half-knitted sweater and kept at it. On close inspection, you could see it was a ridiculously tiny beanie—obviously for someone the size of Ollie. "Can't we bring him back? Whatever's gone wrong, we can handle it. We're old, but if the sky fell we'd hold it up. We didn't die yet; he can't run into anything we can't fix."
Mira shook her head. "His fate lies out there. You and I have never feared fate—yet sometimes fate cannot be forced. To go against it would only ruin him."
"Don't get so anxious. He's actually having a good time, right?"
They'd watched Ollie grow from a hamster pup—he'd been rescued by Ned and raised by these Northridge elders. Even if his body hadn't changed much, they could always tell when their kid was genuinely happy.
Ned scuffled, unhappy. "Half a month and he only thinks to call me once. He's having too much fun out there—almost forgot us."
"Jiji's not like that. He's always filming or rushing to another engagement—so busy! Look, the kid's thinner. We should go check on him."
Quinn's lower body wasn't legs but a long, opalescent tail covered in jade-gold scales. Each scale shimmered like a polished gem under the light—an art piece that its owner didn't seem to care much about. Quinn swung it restlessly on the floor.
Ned wanted to go, but Mira had warned him long ago: Ned and Ollie were linked in ways they didn't fully understand. Until the time was right, they mustn't meet in person.
Zara, because of her own issues with uncontrolled aura, couldn't leave Northridge until she found a way to regulate herself.
Mira changed her lower body into two human legs and went to the table. She plucked a bone hairpin from her hair; the moment she removed it it sprouted into seven bone rods of varying lengths. She tossed them casually across the tabletop—where they landed would be the omen.
"Quinn can go. I could go too, but I don't want to leave. Quinn, go."
Nowadays many of their kind blended in with humans once things stabilized, but Northridge was always home. Mira disliked humans; unless absolutely necessary, she'd never set foot outside the mountain again.
Everyone had long accepted her stance. Ned and Zara looked at Quinn with envy; Quinn grinned, looking pleased with himself, which made Ned want to punch him.
"Remember one thing: you can watch, but do nothing unnecessary—even if it looks like that thing might help Cub."
Ollie had been taken in as a little hamster pup by Ned; the elders in Northridge had raised him bit by bit. He'd never been away this long. If it weren't for worries about his fate, would they have let such a small hamster wander the world for three years?
He'd been so helpless and pitiful then, a little kid forced to fend for himself—too sad.
"What? Nothing at all? Then can I at least send Jiji some money? He's too poor—look at where he's living!"
Zara fanned a wing and shot a jet of heat at Quinn, about to singe his long hair, when a soft teal glow pulsed around him. The burst of flame hit the shield and rolled off harmlessly.
"Idiot! I told you they're on a variety show. That setup was made by the production crew—Ollie's place was arranged by Evan Chase and that fox spirit they know. There's no way it's shabby."
Besides, Evan had arranged a little villa for Ollie in that neighborhood. But it was remote; Ollie often needed to fly to different places for work. It made more sense for him to live in the city center, close to the airport and the train station.
Quinn stomped his tail, unconvinced. "I still think it's lousy—the aura there is so thin."
"Enough arguing. When things actually happen you'll know what to do and what not to do. And this trip isn't for fun—remember to meet with the people from the Supernatural Affairs Bureau. Humans have had an uptick in strange incidents lately, and there's also the case of the missing good karma linked to poor Jian—those need looking into."
"Humans are useless. Jian's case has been dragging for over two years and there's still no news. He doesn't even need to reincarnate anymore—he's already become a cultivator." Ned bared his true claws and scratched the floor.
Humans fuss and stall. Even if they couldn't find whoever siphoned the good karma, the one indirectly responsible for Jian's death should have been dealt with. Two years on, no judgment—if this were their lot, they'd have done a soul-search, confirmed there was no use, and killed them.
"Jian was such a good kid. If he'd begun cultivating while alive, he'd be three to five times ahead by now. Such a shame…"
Jenna had returned Ollie's spirit—she'd literally set his soul right back down—and the four of them treated anything connected to Ollie as family. Jenna herself was an easy, lovable sort, so even Mira was fond of her. When Mira heard Jenna would be accompanying Ollie, she even asked Jenna to find some herbs for her.
Thinking how bruised Jenna had been when she first arrived here made everyone hot under the collar.
"Quinn, when you go warn the Bureau and Precinct One too. We're willing to cooperate with humans, but that doesn't mean we're pushovers. It feels like they've been taking us less and less seriously these years."
Mira didn't answer out loud, but she mocked them inwardly.
Humans had no reason to take their small group seriously. Their generation of ancient elders had slept through most of the ages. Bai Ze was missing, and a few beast allies had perished in the disaster eight years ago.
The monsters were waning. If the four of them weren't around, they'd summon back every spirit willing to return to Northridge and let Zara light a cleansing fire to take them all away. Without their suppression, the lesser monsters would eventually become human toys. Better to be a legend in some strange tome than to watch them be toyed with.
She disliked humans, but humans now ruled the world; after so many years she'd learned to accept what couldn't be changed.
Quinn buzzed with excitement all evening. Mira went back to her quiet pool; the other three clustered around Quinn, stuffing his pack with little trinkets Ollie might like.
It wasn't that Mira wasn't eager—she'd given up almost everything for one other spirit long ago, and what she could offer Ollie she'd already given.